Marry Me Again (The Second Chance Love Series, Book 1) (29 page)

"I'll be right there." Tucker turned back to Rebecca, watched her as she sat there white-faced and refused to meet his eyes. "Rebecca, this won't take long. Please don't leave."

She peeked at him, then looked away without saying a word. No promises there.

Tucker took a deep breath and walked down the hall. He met Brian halfway and wondered if he would lose his job if he decked the man in the hallway.

Probably.

And Rebecca would probably be mad as hell about it.

Plus half the town would be talking about it come morning.

"Damn you," Tucker said as he shouldered his way past the man.

And he damned himself while he was at it.

* * *

Rebecca sat in Tucker's office, wondering how long it would be before she stopped shaking just thinking about that horrible day when she'd known, absolutely, her marriage was over.

She had never wanted to think about it, had done her best to avoid the whole subject since Tucker had come back.

How many surprises did he have left for her? "Rebecca?"

She looked up to find Brian in the doorway.

"He told you, didn't he?"

"Yes."

Brian came in and closed the door. "Let me—"

Rebecca slapped him on the cheek, surprising him at least as much as she surprised herself. She was horrified, actually, at herself.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"I'm sorry, too."

"I mean about everything."

"Me, too."

Rebecca looked at him, looked hard and wondered why she couldn't have just loved him, why she couldn't have married him years ago and been happy with him.

"I wish—"

"There's nothing left to say, Brian."

He nodded slowly, and he didn't try to stop her when she walked out the door.

Chapter 17

Rebecca brooded all evening, then decided she wanted to talk to Tucker. So she bundled up a sleepy Sammy and took him to her parents' to spend the night.

She paused after closing the front door to her parents' house and looked over at the garage and the apartment where Tucker was staying.

Now that she was here, she could see his car was missing and no lights were on at the apartment.

She walked around the house to the patio, then out among the roses in the garden. The last ones of the season were in full bloom.

Rebecca bent over one peach-colored bloom and inhaled deeply, remembering the scent, remembering the day when Brian had returned home to find her married, pregnant and miserable with her husband.

She looked back toward the house, with its darkened windows and doors, and wondered where Tucker had been standing when he'd heard Brian say that he loved her and wanted her back.

And she wondered what she would have done if Tucker had simply asked her what she wanted to do. If he had offered her a choice—him or Brian—instead of making that choice for her.

She wasn't sure about then, but now, knowing what she did after years spent trying to be happy with Brian, she knew what she should have done.

She should have stayed with her husband. Maybe they would have made it, and maybe they wouldn't have. If they hadn't, it wouldn't have been all Tucker's fault. Rebecca had been so young, insecure, overwhelmed by her powerful, self-assured husband.

Most of all, she'd never felt quite secure in his love, never understood why he'd chosen her, and always wondered when he'd see for himself that he'd made a mistake.

So she hadn't been very surprised to find him with Cheryl Atkinson that day. It had confirmed every insecurity she'd ever had.

Rebecca shook her head as if to clear it of the memories. She looked up at the moon, at the starlit sky, and told herself that it was time, once and for all, to look ahead and not behind her.

She wasn't that young, insecure girl anymore.

And Tucker wasn't the same man, either. She believed that.

She'd gone back into the commission's chambers and watched him arguing his case. He was so calm, so self-assured, so passionate about it all.

And she'd been proud of him and of the work he was doing. She'd never felt that before about his work.

And she loved watching him with Sammy. They were still a little unsure of each other, still a little wary, but there was a bond. There was love between them, and it grew stronger every day.

Rebecca wondered now if...

She turned at the sound of a car driving up and got a funny, fluttery feeling in her chest.

The door slammed, then footsteps sounded on the driveway and the steps leading up to Tucker's apartment.

Time to face him.

Time to face up to her feelings and decide what she was going to do.

* * *

Tucker was taking off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt when he heard a knock at the door.

"Rebecca?" He went still for a minute when he saw her. He would swear that his heart lurched to a halt, then started pounding twice as fast as it should.

He turned away, left her there in the open door, because he was aching to touch her, aching to pull her close and tell her one more time that he loved her.

What if he never got to do that again?

This afternoon—that whole scene had shaken him badly, and he knew it had shaken her. He had a feeling he was about to find out how much.

"Come on in," he said over his shoulder. "I thought that was your car in the driveway. Everything all right with your parents?"

"Yes," she said softly. "I left Sammy over there because I wanted to talk to you."

His heart stopped again. He couldn't bring himself to look at her because he could always see so much of what was in her heart in the expression on her face.

And he was scared of what was in her heart now.

Tucker closed his eyes and shoved his hands into his pockets. God, he wanted this woman back.

"Rebecca, I'm so sorry about that scene at the office today."

"I know."

"I wish I'd told you the whole thing sooner, but... I just wanted some time. I wanted us to have some time together." He waited, knowing that whatever came out of their conversation tonight would rock his world.

"I wish you'd told me six years ago," she said.

He turned to face her at that, seeing less of her feelings than he expected in her big green eyes. Or maybe she was getting better at hiding them from him.

"I wish I'd never done any of that in the first place," he said. "If I could take it back. If I could have been a better man, a better husband, from day one... God, I wish I could."

She walked a little further inside the room, which was crowded now, even with the little bit of furniture he'd brought.

He didn't care. He hadn't expected to spend that much time here.

He'd hoped that before too long he and Rebecca and Sammy would be finding their own house to share.

He wondered now if they ever would.

"I've been wondering," she said, "what I would have done if you had given me a choice."

Him or Brian the wonder boy?

Tucker had never felt he could give her a choice. What if they had stayed together? They had probably been on the way to making Sammy as miserable as his parents had made him.

She came a little closer, and he was glad he had his hands in his pockets, because he wanted, so much, to reach out and grab her, to hold her to him and never let her go.

"I don't really know what I would have decided," she said.

Tucker pulled on one end of his already-loosened tie until it was free of his collar, then walked to the door of the bedroom and threw it inside on top of the bureau.

He thought about going into the bedroom, putting some distance between her and him, but—

The phone rang, and he looked at his watch and wondered if everything at work could have come together this fast.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I think it's the bottling company thing. I've been working on this all night, and something may have broken."

He picked up the phone by the bedside table. It was Bill Marshall, his contact in the state Senate. Political leaders were on board.

He hadn't had time to talk about it even with the commission chairman before the meeting, so he'd had to ask for the delay on the hearing.

Now he'd spent all evening working on the plan: to levy a fee on any company wanting to use the state's natural resources—and water was definitely a state resource—for private gain. If the water was ever needed for the general public, the bottling company's permit could be suspended.

He was almost positive the plan would make the water bottler rethink its project.

"Thanks, Bill," he said into the phone. "I'll call you first thing in the morning, as soon as we can get everybody together."

He stared at the wall in front of him and wanted to tell her, wanted to share this with her. But he didn't, because no victory would mean anything if he lost her for good. And that was what he was facing tonight.

"Is everything all right?" She came up behind him, and he froze there, looking at the bed.

He'd been so hopeful that night he'd spent in her bed. And he'd barely slept since. He'd just relived that night, and thought about all he wanted to share with her in the future.

"Yeah. Things are good." He gritted his teeth and said, "Tell me about you and Brian."

She put her hand on his arm, surprising him. "Tucker, it would have been a mistake for me to be with Brian. I know that now."

He didn't say anything. He couldn't. He wanted so much...

"Ask me why," she said.

He turned to face her.

She surprised him again by putting her palms flat against his chest. One thumb slipped in between the ends of his shirt that no longer met, and rubbed up and down, so slowly.

"Why?" he asked, his voice as rough as gravel.

She stood there with one of her palms over his heart, his runaway heart.

"Because I never loved him the way I loved you."

Loved,
he told himself before he could get too hopeful. She said
loved.
Not
love.

"I tried to make it work for the longest time, but it just didn't. And I thought for a while it was me—that something was wrong with me, but it wasn't. It was Brian and me—we just weren't right together."

Tucker couldn't stand it anymore. He took her by the shoulders and held her there, where she was, about six inches from his chest.

He didn't want her to get any farther away than that, but he was afraid to pull her any closer.

"What about now, Rebecca? What about us?"

She hesitated. It seemed to go on forever, and the whole time he eased her closer, and the whole time he was surprised that she didn't protest.

He let himself kiss her once, softly, then again, like a starving man face-to-face with a king's feast.

"I still love you, Rebecca," he said against her lips, then kissed her some more.

He tasted her again and again, wondering how he'd managed to go so long without the taste of her lips on his, wondering how he'd ever manage again.

"Rebecca. Tell me something."

She eased away from him, and he stopped her when she would have gotten too far away.

"I'm not ready for that, Tucker. I can't tell you yet that I love you."

He looked away at that and wondered if he'd have to literally pry his hands off her upper arms.

God, he was going to have to let her go.

"But," she said, tilting his head back toward her so she could look at him, so he had no choice but to look at her, "I think I want to try."

Tucker almost fell to the floor.

She smiled at him, and he was surprised he was still standing.

"What would that look like? If I wanted us to try again?"

"What do you want it to look like?" he whispered. "It can look like anything you want. Just tell me. Anything."