Marry Me Again (The Second Chance Love Series, Book 1) (20 page)

The old Tucker would have had her undressed and on the floor beneath him by now, or maybe on the kitchen counter. They'd argued more than once and ended up one of those ways or the other.

He'd fought ruthlessly back then, with his charm, with his passion, with whatever advantage he had that worked best at the moment, to get whatever he wanted at the moment.

This man was standing before her, holding out his arms to her in silent invitation, waiting for her to decide what she wanted, even though he knew exactly what he wanted and that he could get it. This man, she didn't know.

But she wanted to know him. She couldn't stop herself from wanting to know everything about him.

Drawing deep down inside herself, looking for courage, she eased forward across the abyss of doubts and fears, across the mere inches that separated them until they were almost touching.

She waited there in full surrender while his arms moved ever so slowly to fold her into a tender embrace. One hand settled her body against the strength of his while another pressed her head against his shoulder.

She breathed in the scent of him, felt the warmth of him, the strength and gentleness and patience—she'd never known patience like this from him, except when they were in bed.

One of his hands made small circles against her back and the other one was caught up in her hair, a soothing touch, a loving touch.

She let herself melt against him, gave herself up to the comfort and the reassurance he was offering.

They stayed there for a long time. She lost all track of time, lost a little of her fear of him, but none of the longing she had for him. That had only grown stronger.

His hands ran over her body then, over her arms and her shoulders, her back and finally her hips. With the slightest pressure, he eased her lower body against his.

She gasped as she felt his arousal pulsing between them, but she wasn't afraid of his passion anymore.

He was going to give her time to get used to this, a gift that she'd never expected from him.

He kissed her once, slowly, sweetly, thoroughly, and set her to trembling. If her legs could barely hold her, it didn't matter, because he was holding her. He wasn't going to let go.

He ended the kiss, but stayed close, with his lips just a breath away.

"Give me another chance, Rebecca."

She would have given him almost anything right then. She chose to give him her honesty.

"I'm so scared."

"So am I, but there's nothing new about that. You've always scared me to death."

She doubted that. He'd never been afraid of anything—not until that first night he'd come to see Sammy, at least. She would have pondered the idea of Tucker actually being afraid of her, but he kissed her again. He kissed her like a man who had all the time in the world and wanted to do nothing but kiss her, and she gloried in it.

"Just a chance," he whispered against her lips. "Give me that."

"All right," she said, a moment before his lips took hers again.

* * *

It was too hot to sleep that night, and Rebecca stayed awake long after he left.

She hadn't forgotten anything about the years she and Tucker had spent together. It would have been so much easier if she had.

But now, things were changing.

She still felt the pain from the bad times, though it wasn't as immense now that so much time had passed, and the present seemed so much more important.

At times, he was so much like the man she had married—gorgeous, charming, full of flattery, so sure of himself. And then at other times, she saw a new seriousness and sensitivity in him, a sense of purpose and of responsibility, a vulnerability and a determination to make things right between him and Sammy.

She wasn't worried about him and Sammy anymore. They were wonderful together, happy together. And she believed that they would always be together now, which meant that she and Tucker were going to have some kind of relationship, no matter what.

A chance?

He wanted another chance with her.

She drew the green silk robe closer to her, missing Tucker's own special brand of warmth, despite the heat of the night.

She'd agreed to give him a chance.

A part of her still wanted him, in a way she'd wanted no other man in all the time they'd been apart. A part of her was still terrified of being hurt again.

Now that he wasn't holding her in his arms, setting her blood to boiling, she wondered whether her fear or her desire would prevail.

* * *

He came to her that night in a dream. She thought it was a dream. He was the man he had been when she'd first seen him, the man who wanted her desperately, the one she'd married. The one who'd been happy with her in the beginning, the one who hadn't hurt her yet.

He smiled the way only Tucker could smile, stared at her in a way that made her think she was the only woman in the world and warmed her whole body before he ever touched her. Her breath caught in her throat. Her body came to tingling life. She watched his mouth, wanting it on hers, on her neck, nibbling delicately on her collarbone.

He peeled her clothes off her shoulders while she tugged at his tie, undid the buttons of his shirt, reached for his belt buckle.

He kept kissing her, running his big, warm hands over her heated skin, teasing, stroking, pleasing. Her husband. Her only lover. The man she loved. Hers somehow, when she truly thought he never would be.

Time moved in fits and starts. She put her hands on the bare skin of his chest, admiring the sleek lines, the heat. He was golden, a man who liked to run outside in the sun, sometimes without his shirt on, and it left him with honey-colored skin that she loved.

He nudged her back against something. The kitchen countertop? The bathroom? She couldn't be sure. Then he palmed her hips and lifted her onto the edge of the countertop, nudging her thighs wide. Eagerly, she wrapped her legs around his hips, felt one of his hands between them, stroking, teasing her, making her wait while he kissed her some more and her hands tightened on his hips, urging him closer.

She didn't want to wait. Even in the dream, she knew this would not end well. He would hurt her. Leave her.

But this was Tucker, and she'd loved him desperately, had nothing but her memories of him for so long, and she hadn't even allowed herself the memories for so long.

So she urged him on, even though she knew that would likely only make him slow down. He loved to tease her, and his patience seemed infinite compared with her own.

"Please," she pleaded, as she so often had, and he deliberately slowed the pace.

It had been so long, she knew, and she was afraid. If they didn't hurry, she might wake up. She might start to remember, not the man she'd loved, but the one she'd tried so hard to hate.

"Please, Tucker," she said again. "Please."

"Did you miss me?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"I missed you so much. Say you're still mine," he demanded. "Say you still belong to me."

Oh,
she couldn't do that. Not even for this moment from the past. She couldn't.

"You do," he said, the man used to getting exactly what he wanted. "I know you do."

And then he stopped teasing. He moved against her, his big, hard body pressing home. She groaned, remembering how it felt when he was deep inside her, as far as he could possibly go. Her whole body gripped his like she'd never let him go. Time stopped, and the world seemed perfect, just for those moments.

She had no doubts, no fears, no insecurities.

He was hers, her husband, and she loved him so much.

He stroked and teased some more, kissed her and whispered in her ear how beautiful she was, how perfect.

"Rebecca. My Rebecca."

She was. She was his again.

Oh, she'd waited so long.

To feel this way again, to be in his arms, to be this woman.

She clung to him, buried her face in his neck and called out his name, her whole body awash in sensation, pleasure zinging along every nerve ending in her body.

She was so happy.

And then as she rested on the countertop, breathing heavily, her back against the big mirror of the bathroom, completely spent, he pulled away from her, calmly pulled his clothes back on, turned and walked way.

It was like the bathroom door opened into an expanse of empty time and space. He disappeared through it and kept walking, even as she called out his name, as she cried and begged him not to leave.

Chapter 12

Three days later, Rebecca hung up the phone and stared at the man who'd so completely thrown her off balance, again. This was becoming her normal state of mind when Tucker was around, and even more disturbing, in her dreams, which became more vivid each night and always ended the same way. With him walking away from her, not even looking back as she called his name and begged him to stay.

"I guess you just found out where I'm living," Tucker said.

"No, I just heard about where you worked in Louisiana."

He gave her a wicked grin, one that the devil himself would have been proud of. Tucker enjoyed throwing her off balance, always had.

"Surprised you, didn't I?"

"Yes," she said, growing more and more uneasy.

He'd been working for a coalition of Gulf Coast residents seeking reparations for the damages from an oil spill—a monster of a task, taking on one of the largest companies in the world. According to a friend with the Sierra Club in Baton Rouge, Tucker had done an incredible job.

Rebecca couldn't believe it.

She did believe Tucker had taken the job here in Tallahassee because he wanted to be near her and Sammy, but working for an environmental task force for the past year and a half? That couldn't be.

Unless he really had changed, in more ways than she thought possible.

She stared at him, wishing she could see into his soul the way he seemed to be able to see into hers. But she couldn't begin to understand him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

He shook his head, as if he didn't know himself. Finally, he asked, "Would you have believed me?"

"Probably not."

"And even if you had believed me, I didn't think it would have mattered, not at first." His arms slipped around her waist, and he moved a step closer. "I hope it matters now."

After the other night.

He didn't say it, but he was thinking it.

She hadn't seen him in three days, and she'd been bracing herself for the meeting. She'd been uneasy.

Their relationship had changed. She'd agreed to give him another chance, a decision that haunted her nightly. And she wasn't even sure what she'd agreed to or what he would expect from her now.

How did a woman go about getting to know a man all over again after she'd been married to him, had a child with him and divorced him?

She stared up at him and felt an awful push and pull inside herself, felt herself swaying toward him, wanting him, coming alive in his presence, yet at the same time wanting to run from him, for fear he'd hurt her again.

She kept trying to hold on to her memories of him and that woman she'd caught him with in his office, despite thinking of him, missing him, wanting him. She'd have thought that woman was more than enough to cure her of any desire she might have for her ex-husband. Because it still hurt.

But it was so hard to hang onto those images, those feelings, when she saw him as he was now. As he seemed to be. Especially when he was with Sammy. Especially when he kept surprising her, like he had today.

She couldn't quite make herself not want him, not want to know everything about him now.

"I still can't see you leaving private practice to go to work for the state."

He smiled, sly as a fox, and she had a feeling she'd just walked right into his trap.

"You mean you can't see the man you
used
to know leaving private practice to go to work for the state."