Marry Me Again (The Second Chance Love Series, Book 1) (14 page)

He nodded. He remembered now.

"Funny," she continued, closing in on him. "All those weeks there, and I never saw you with that woman you were supposed to be seeing. You came in at dawn, worked through lunch, left long after dark, and I never did understand when you had time to see her."

"Margaret, what's the point?" He surrendered. " I can't go back. I can't change it."

"You knew Rebecca was coming to the office that day. She always came on Wednesdays to go to lunch with her father. They'd been meeting like that since she was twelve. He never came home, so she always had to go there if she wanted to see him. You knew she was coming on Wednesday, and you're not a stupid man, Tucker."

He laughed, bitterly. "Maybe not anymore, but I was then."

"So why did you do it?"

Tucker had to admire her tenacity, though he could have done without it right now. The past was past. Done was done. Regrets were a waste of time, so he made no time for them. "Look, can we just drop this, please? It doesn't matter anymore. It's over. It's too late."

"It's never too late."

"Maybe not for me and Sammy. I hope it's not, but... I lost Rebecca years ago, long before we finally gave up on the marriage."

"No," Margaret objected. "You deliberately pushed her away, and I've never understood why. But I'll never believe that you simply couldn't keep your hands off that other woman.

"Tucker?" She moved in for the kill. "I think now that you're finally being honest with yourself, it's time you were honest with Rebecca, too."

* * *

Rebecca knew Tucker well enough to know when he was going to make trouble, and when he returned that night, she knew there was going to be trouble.

She tried to collect herself while he looked in on Sammy, but she simply didn't have enough time. Tucker could have stayed up there a week, and she wouldn't have had enough time.

She groaned when she heard his footsteps coming back downstairs. She waited until the footsteps stopped, waited for him to say something, but he didn't. Rebecca closed her eyes and held her breath while she searched her brain for something, anything that could possibly have upset him so much. She couldn't figure it out.

Tugging the ends of her green silk robe more tightly around her, she realized she should have gone upstairs and changed while he was in with Sammy. She simply hadn't thought about it—not until she turned around and found him staring at her in the cool, thin silk.

"We've got some things to talk about, Rebecca."

He was quiet again, so quiet. She worried when he got this way, and she wasn't up to another confrontation with him.

Playing for time, even just a few moments, she backed into the kitchen, talking as she went. "Would you like some hot tea? I was just going to make some."

"No, I don't want any tea."

She filled the pot with water, then reached for a mug on the top shelf. "Coffee, instead?"

He came up behind her, closing the cabinet only a moment after she opened it. She felt his presence, felt his heat right behind her, and all of a sudden it was hard to get enough air.

"I don't want anything to drink," he said. "I just need some answers."

Rebecca didn't want to turn around. She knew it would be a mistake. He hadn't moved. He was right there, so close she could feel the air coming out of his lungs stirring the strands of hair that had come loose from the chignon she'd hurriedly created once she got out of the tub, just before he arrived.

And then, out of nowhere, she remembered he loved seeing her hair like this. She could still hear his deep, soft voice, thick with emotion, telling her that, so long ago. He liked this style because it made it so easy for him get to her neck and her shoulders with his mouth.

He liked to tease her by nibbling on them very gently. He'd catch her from behind and hold her there, refusing to let her turn around, until she was putty in his arms.

A shiver ran down her spine. She remembered a time when he'd caught her, just like this, in their kitchen with her hair piled up on her head.

She wondered if he remembered that now, wondered if he ever thought about such things.

Tucker put his hands on her arms, and she jumped at his touch. God, what had she been thinking about?

He let go immediately, and that reassured her for a moment.

"Turn around, Rebecca. Please."

She stood there for another moment, her head bowed, her hands trembling and her heart pounding, while she searched her brain, trying to figure out what in the world was going on.

She wished she weren't so aware of him, so caught up in this mess with him. She wished their lives weren't still intertwined when she'd have sworn they'd severed all ties years ago.

"Rebecca, why didn't you marry him?"

Anguish—she heard anguish in the question. She closed her eyes and tried to close her heart to it. Why did it even matter? Why was it so important to him?

"I... We're engaged." She lied more easily than she would have thought, then tried to pacify her conscience by reassuring herself that it really wasn't any of his business, anyway.

"Engaged?"

She nodded weakly, her back still to him.

"For six years?"

"The better part of it."

He turned her around gently, with two hands on her shoulders, then grabbed her left hand. "Where's the ring?"

It was in a drawer somewhere. Brian wouldn't take it back, and she hadn't felt comfortable wearing it in a long time. Nothing had felt right in a long time.

"Why is he in Naples when you and Sammy are here?"

She pulled her hand free.

"It doesn't have anything to do with you, Tucker."

His eyes blazed, and his jaw tightened. It was definitely the wrong thing to say. He laughed sarcastically, shook his head, went to back away and then changed his mind. Suddenly he was closer than ever, leaning over her, trapping her between him and the kitchen cabinets.

"I can't believe you said that."

"It's not—"

"You loved him, Rebecca. You married me, loving him. And when you left me, you went straight to him."

Rebecca was too shocked to protest. She'd had no idea he'd thought this, and she couldn't understand why he did. She loved Brian; she'd loved him forever. But it wasn't anything like what she'd felt for Tucker from the very beginning.

She would have never believed he was jealous of Brian, that he could be jealous of anyone. Tucker was too sure of himself to have the kind of doubts that led to jealousy.

Rebecca should know. She had been the queen of self-doubt, and as it turned out in the end, with good cause.

"I didn't leave you," she told him coolly, her pride still stinging with the wound. "You left me, and you didn't even have the courtesy to tell me."

Rebecca's cheeks burned. She didn't want to bring that up, not ever, but he'd backed her into a corner, and she wanted out.

They stared at each other for a moment, each backing down. They'd never had it out over that woman. Rebecca hoped they never would. There was no point to it, nothing he could say to explain it and nothing she could do to change it. There was simply too much pain there to deal with.

"I was just..." He raked a hand through his hair and looked absolutely lost. "I was sure you wanted him, that you'd marry him, and he'd be a father to Sammy. Why didn't you marry him, Rebecca?"

She nodded, beginning to understand now. He'd wanted Brian to be the father that he could never be to Sammy. She'd wanted that, too. Truth be told, it was one of the reasons she'd tried for so long to make her relationship with Brian work out—because she wanted very much for Sammy to have a father.

Yet she hadn't been able to bring herself to marry Brian, and she wasn't about to explain her reasons to Tucker.

After all, what could she say? That Brian wasn't Tucker? That he didn't make her feel the way Tucker made her feel? That she just didn't love him the way she'd loved Tucker?

No, she couldn't begin to explain it to him. She wasn't going to reveal that much of herself to Tucker.

"I just can't talk about this with you. I won't," she said.

"You loved him, Rebecca. You took my name. You wore my ring. You slept in my bed, but you loved him."

"I loved you," she said, because it was true and because maybe, once he heard that, he'd drop the whole conversation.

But he didn't.

"God, what's the point?" he said. "You don't have to pretend anymore. I heard you with him in the garden that day, right after he came home."

Rebecca was stunned. She'd had no idea that Tucker had been there. It had been near the end, when she'd almost given up on her and Tucker. But she'd been pregnant by then, and she'd been hanging on because of Sammy. They'd both been hanging on, barely, desperately.

And then Brian was back. She'd been so glad to see him and so sad, too, all at the same time. She'd hurt him more than she could have imagined by marrying Tucker while he'd been away.

She and Brian hadn't been engaged or anything like that. But she'd thought she was going to die when he left to go to the Peace Corps. She'd been crazy in love with him at eighteen, but Brian had dismissed that, arguing she was too young to know for sure what she wanted then. He'd wanted her to be sure. So she'd watched him go away, full of hope that when he came back, they'd be together.

But she hadn't waited for him. She'd barely thought of him once she met Tucker.

"Do you remember what you said to him, Rebecca?"

She shook her head. She wasn't sure exactly what she'd said to Brian that day. She just remembered how much it had hurt, both him and her, and how hopeless her life with Tucker had become.

"I remember," he said bitterly. "I remember every word."

* * *

They'd been in each other's arms in the rose garden, in broad daylight. Tucker had come by to go over some papers with Rebecca's father, who'd been home sick that day.

He'd heard about the two of them and this garden, how they'd played there together as children. He'd heard how they'd always been together, and how amazed everyone was that Rebecca would ever marry anyone but Brian.

Tucker had hated Brian Sandelle before he even laid eyes on the man, hated Brian even more when Tucker found him standing there with Rebecca in his arms.

But that hadn't hurt nearly as much as what Rebecca had told Brian—or rather what she hadn't told Brian.

It hadn't been so bad, at first. Brian had been furious, and Rebecca had been trying to pull away from him.

"Tell me that you love him," he'd demanded.

"I do," Rebecca told him. But she'd said it so quietly, sadly, with so many regrets.

"Tell me that he's made you happy."

And she hadn't been able to say it. Tucker had waited, his jaw clenched, the muscles in his hand starting to ache because of how tightly he'd been gripping his briefcase.

She couldn't say it.

She wouldn't, because it would have been a betrayal to admit it, and she wouldn't betray her husband. But she wouldn't lie to Brian, either.

So she'd said nothing.

And Brian had known. Tucker had been able to see that. Brian had known she wasn't happy, and the man had become hopeful then.

"Now," Brian had said to Rebecca, "tell me you don't love me anymore."

And again, Tucker's wife hadn't said a word. She didn't have to. Her silence spoke volumes.

* * *

Tears were running down Rebecca's cheeks when Tucker was done. She'd remembered only the pain, but now she heard her own words come back to haunt her. And for the first time, she saw them for what they really were—a terrible betrayal of her husband and their marriage vows.

She'd stood there in the garden, pregnant with her husband's child, but in the arms of another man, a man who still wanted her, who even wanted to marry her and be a father to her child.

It had been one of the saddest days of her life. She'd looked at Brian and questioned every decision she'd made since he left, regretted most of them.

But it was too late, she'd told him. She'd chosen her path, her husband. They were having a child together. And most of all, despite all their problems, she loved Tucker. She just didn't think she'd ever be the woman who could make him happy.

Rebecca wiped her tears away and took a long, steadying breath.

"I loved you when I married you, Tucker. I didn't love anyone but you."

That mollified him, and as she saw it, the admission was a small price to pay to calm him down a little.

"And I didn't love anyone but you," he said.

Not at first, anyway. She closed her eyes against the pain. It was always there, waiting for her whenever she thought of him and that woman.

"Can we just drop this, please?"

"As soon as you explain to me why you're still a single woman."

"Tucker—"

"All these years, I thought you were married. I thought Sammy had a father."