Marry Me Again (The Second Chance Love Series, Book 1) (22 page)

She started unpacking boxes and washing things before she put them away. The noise coming from the living room quieted a little when Tucker sent his father and Sammy out to pick up some take-out food for dinner.

"Divide and conquer," he explained to Rebecca as he hauled in another box of kitchen things for her to unload. "It's the only way to handle my parents. Together, they're impossible."

From what she'd seen today, she tended to agree. The air was thick with the constant backbiting, but they were oblivious to it.

She was sure this wasn't one of the worst arguments they'd ever had.

Tucker's mother started it by saying her second husband's aunt planned to spend the winter in Spain, so Tucker was welcome to stay at her house, forty-five minutes away, for as long as he needed it.

Nonsense, said his father. He needn't settle into anyone else's house when a friend of his father's owned rental property all over town. He was sure he could find Tucker something infinitely more suitable than what he had now or what he would find through his mother.

It went on and on, back and forth, angry strikes at each other masked as an offer to help their son. They didn't look at each other, and directed barely a word at each other. They talked through Tucker, and struck out at each other through him.

Rebecca hated for Sammy to hear even as much of the argument as he had. Her child, hers and Tucker's, had never been exposed to the kind of bitterness that must have been an integral part of Tucker's childhood.

Tucker sidestepped his parents' questions at first. He ignored them and kept hauling in boxes. When he looked ready to murder someone, he sent his father and Sammy out to find some food.

With Tucker's father gone, his mother continued to press her case.

It seemed his parents were determined to make Tucker choose between the two of them, and he refused to do it.

Rebecca was beginning to see why the place above the garage hadn't looked so bad to him.

She watched him and wondered if things had always been this way between his parents and why she hadn't noticed it before. She and Tucker hadn't spent much time with them, though. They'd been around for the wedding, of course, but she'd been so caught up in Tucker, she'd barely known her own name. Still, this kind of acrimony was practically impossible to miss. And she found herself wanting, oddly, to protect her husband, a man she'd never imagined needing anything like protection from her.

"Has it always been this way?" she asked him quietly when he hauled in yet another box.

"No." He smiled despite everything and kissed her forehead. "It used to be worse. They used to really hate each other. And when I was a child, I couldn't get out of their way as easily as I can now."

He said it lightly, and she saw a remnant of the happy-go-lucky man she'd married. But the whole thing had to hurt him. It had to.

"Do they always have to outdo each other?"

For all that she hadn't noticed them before fighting over their son, she knew about their tendencies well. Ever since his parents had rediscovered their grandson, they'd showered him with presents. When Rebecca's house wouldn't hold any more, and when she couldn't talk them out of sending more, she'd started taking the toys to a homeless shelter downtown.

All those presents, yet they'd found little time to spend with Sammy. Didn't they know that things couldn't make up for their time?

"Not always," Tucker said over his shoulder on his way back outside for more boxes. "My father wasn't that fond of paying child support after they split, and for the first few years, my mother couldn't match anything my father gave me. But my mother made a wonderful martyr then."

Rebecca could easily imagine his mother the martyr, but the idea that she and Tucker had struggled to make ends meet was a surprise. Tucker's father was a well-to-do man, and for as long as she'd known his mother, the woman had been married to a man who owned a department-store chain.

Of course, it probably explained why Tucker had insisted on paying alimony when they'd divorced. When Rebecca had refused to accept it, he'd paid a ridiculously large amount in child support, instead, no doubt thinking that it would be enough to support an ex-wife as well as a child.

Tucker wouldn't be very happy to know that Rebecca hadn't touched the money in years. It was accumulating in a mutual fund account for Sammy, whose net worth was definitely much higher than his mother's.

* * *

When Tucker's mother finally left, and with his father gone for pizza, Tucker stared at the boxes in his living room. He'd forgotten how bad it could get between his mother and his father. He hadn't had the misfortune to be in the same room with them for years. He knew better.

He scowled. His hands were displaying a fine tremor he didn't care for, yet couldn't seem to control. You'd think a grown man wouldn't let his parents get to him this way.

He heard footsteps behind him, then remembered that Rebecca was still here, that she heard the whole thing. Then he felt her hand on his back.

"I don't know how you stood it," she said.

He stiffened. "Don't pity me, Rebecca. It's the last thing I want from you."

Her hand stayed there, pressed against his back, stroking up and down in a soothing motion. It was the first time he could remember since his return that she'd reached out and touched him first.

"It's not pity," she said. "I'm just worried about you. And I'm wondering how I missed seeing all this animosity while we were married."

"I didn't want you to see it," he said. It had been a closely guarded secret of his, because his parents embodied the things he'd feared most for his relationship with her.

If he'd been a stronger man, he would have walked away from her before they ever got involved. He'd have been much safer with someone else, anyone else he didn't need as much as he needed Rebecca.

"I'm sorry." He closed his eyes. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

"It's all right."

She put her arms around him from behind and leaned her head against his shoulder. God, it felt good to have her touch him like this, no matter what the reason.

"Tucker? Did you really think we'd end up like them? That we'd hate each other just as much? That we'd make Sammy as miserable as you must have been?"

"Maybe."

He wished she'd just drop it. He wished she hadn't seen what she had seen. He wished she'd just hold on to him for a while and let him believe that in the end, she was going to be his again.

"Is that why, Tucker? I need to know."

He searched for the right words. He tried to remember that crazy, mixed-up time in their lives. And he had to be honest with her. He'd made a promise to himself and would make one to her when she was ready to hear it. He was going to be absolutely honest with her.

"When it came right down to it, Rebecca, I just couldn't take that risk."

She held him, still, and he breathed a little easier now that he'd told her. Maybe she would understand someday. Maybe she could forgive him. And then they could start over.

"Do you believe me?"

She was a long time answering, and he wished he hadn't pushed the issue.

"It's just that— It's so hard for me to imagine you being afraid of anything. I thought I was the only one who was scared."

"Oh, Rebecca." He turned around and held her lightly, at arm's length so he could look down at her beautiful face. "You scared me to death. You always have."

He couldn't have surprised her more. It was evident from the look on her face.

"I couldn't get you out of my mind. I couldn't have you. I couldn't stay away from you. I knew you were so young, so inexperienced, and I knew that it would have to be marriage or nothing with you."

She lowered her head, and her lashes fanned down over her green eyes, shielding them from his gaze.

He held her as he continued. "I didn't want to get married because I knew how it could end up, and I didn't want to take that risk. But in the end, I couldn't walk away, either."

"And now?" she said, without looking at him.

Tucker smiled and tilted her chin up. "I can't live the rest of my life without you. Sometimes I don't think I can make it another day."

She looked frightened by that—not the reaction he'd been hoping for.

He held her, anyway. He wished, for a moment, that he'd never promised they'd take things slowly, that he could haul her into his arms, carry her to his bed and make love to her until dawn.

They'd always tried to overcome their anger and their fears with their passion. It had worked, but not for long.

It wouldn't work now. He knew that.

So he just held her and waited. He would wait for the day when she wasn't afraid anymore, for the day when she decided that she could trust him, even a little.

The day would come. He believed that. He had to believe it.

* * *

Soon after, Tucker's father and Sammy came back with half-warm pizza. They ate a little, and then Tucker's father left.

Rebecca and Sammy were getting ready to leave, too, when she heard Tucker's stomach growl, and she laughed. It hadn't been the greatest dinner in the world, and they hadn't eaten much of it.

She took pity on him, here in this empty apartment with the empty kitchen, and invited him back to the house for whatever they could find in her freezer. But they hit a delay before they could get to her kitchen. They arrived at her house and found a little boy on the front porch.

The infamous Jimmy Horton, trouble incarnate, was huddled in a dark corner of the porch, looking angry and defiant, all at the same time.

Chapter 13

Jimmy Horton wouldn't tell them anything, except that he'd been on their porch for a while and his mother didn't know where he was.

Rebecca tried to call his mother, but the line was busy. She tried to get something out of Jimmy, but had to give up. She gave Sammy and Jimmy some homemade chocolate caramel brownies and milk, then sent the boys upstairs so she could try Mrs. Horton again. Ten minutes later, she finally managed to get through to the boy's frantic mother, who'd been on the phone calling everyone she knew, trying to locate Jimmy.

Rebecca reassured the woman that her son was safe, though clearly upset about something. And then Rebecca found out why.

"What is it?" Tucker asked. He was beside her in an instant.

"Damn!" she said softly as she hung up the phone. "We're in trouble."

"What?"

"Jimmy Horton's dad moved out again, for good this time, his mother says."

Tucker cursed, more pungently than she had.

"Sammy's not going to take this well."

"No," Tucker said. "And there's no telling what kind of crap that kid's telling him now."

Their eyes met and held. Jimmy Horton was right up there with God as far as Sammy was concerned. They both knew that. Sammy believed every word the kid said.

"Come on," Tucker said. "We've got to get him away from Sammy."

They headed for the stairs, but knew they were too late when they walked into Sammy's bedroom.

Both boys turned tear-filled eyes on Tucker. Jimmy Horton glared defiantly at him. Sammy, with his lower lip trembling and tear tracks on his face, looked like he'd lost his best friend in the world.

"He will," Jimmy Horton said, glaring at Tucker.

"He won't," Sammy said, though he didn't sound nearly as certain.

"Will, too." Jimmy retorted.

Tucker felt sorry for the poor, mixed-up kid, but still could have strangled him right then and there.

"I will what?" he said, bracing himself for the answer.

Jimmy Horton faltered for a moment and looked as if he might start crying again, but he didn't. He just got mad all over again.

"You'll leave, too," Jimmy insisted. "Just like my dad."

Tucker watched Sammy's face the whole time. He was confused and vulnerable. Their whole relationship was so frail at this stage.

Tucker knew that Sammy liked him, enjoyed spending time with him, but his son just didn't know him that well yet. The bond between them was still so fragile. The trust hadn't had the time it needed to take root.