Trust in Me (50 page)

“Car’s lookin’ good,” he heard from the front of the garage.

Tucker’s head snapped up. “Yeah, kid, it’s as good as new.” Playfully he narrowed his eyes on the boy. “Don’t have no knife on you, do you?”

Ron grinned at the question. “Nah.” He shuffled into the garage, appearing young in baggy denim shorts and an Indy T-shirt. Jamming his hands in his pockets, the boy studied the Jag, then met Tucker’s eyes. “I never said...” he scanned the garage. “...I mean, I never told you I was sorry about what I did to the car.”

Tucker straightened, gripping the wrench. “This comin’ from your uncle’s sermon this morning?”

“Sort of. Other things, too.”

Intrigued, Tucker set down the wrench and leaned back against the side of the Jag. Crossing his arms over his own Indy T-shirt, he cocked his head. “Wanna tell me about it?”

Ronny held his gaze. “I was a shit about everything.”

“You had reason.”

“Not really. I just didn’t know it, then.”

Tucker nodded, feeling his heart swell at the reiteration of the fact that Ron did not hold him responsible for his daddy’s death. That had gone a long way to helping him forgive himself. Guess he’d listened to Linc’s sermon, too. “You already told me this, kid.”

“Yeah, well I wanted to say it again.”

When Ron just stared at him and didn’t say any more, Tucker asked, “Wanna stay around awhile and hang out? Doc’s out in the boat with Gerty, but they won’t be gone all day.”

“No, Lily’s waiting in the car. Her and Sammy and me are spending the day with Mr. Johnson at his cottage. The police found out that Loose and Maze had sabotaged Mr. Johnson’s car. He’s really lucky to be alive.”

“How’s he doin’?”

“Good. The physical therapy’s really helping. Lily loves playing with his baby.” Ron rolled his eyes. “Women.”

Tucker chuckled.

“I gotta ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“I want the truth.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“Oh, yeah, I believe that one.”

Sober, Tucker said, “I’ll never lie to you, Ron. I promise. You can trust me.”

The boy’s eyes were wide with belief “My mom? I wanna know if you...if you’re...” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “How do you feel about her, man?”

Tucker had talked to Beth on the phone every night since the incident with Maze and Loose. She’d told him she’d spoken frankly to Ron about her feelings for Tucker, and she’d made it clear she wasn’t giving up on a relationship with him. Tucker had told her in return that he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize Ron’s state of mind now, and they needed to hold off for awhile. But he wasn’t giving up either. He’d tried to take solace in the hope they gave each other, but it was hard waiting to be together.

At Tucker’s long hesitation, Ron shook his head. “You said you’d be honest.”

“I love your mother, Ron.”

“You mean it? Sometimes guys say that to chicks...” Ron didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t have to.

Tucker bit back a grin, wondering what Beth would think about her son calling her a
chick
, much less what she’d think about him coming out here asking after Tucker’s intentions.

“I mean it.” Tucker eyed him. “But we didn’t lie to you, either. My feelings for her have nothin’ to do with you.”

“I know that. Lily said it was a stupid thing to think in the first place.”

“We all do stupid things.”

Ron shrugged. “I guess I should go.”

Tucker nodded. “Thanks for comin’ out here.”

Slowly, Ron crossed to him and stuck out his hand. Tucker clasped it. They held on tight. Ron said, “My mom...She’s home alone now. The diner closes at two on Sundays.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He wondered how fast he could shower and drive to town.

Tucker watched Danny Donovan’s son turn and leave the garage, his step light, his bearing easy, like an ordinary seventeen-year-olds should be. Just before he got out of sight, he turned back.

“So I’ll be seeing you around, right?”

“You’ll be seein’ me, son. That’s a promise.”

o0o

THE dream came, bathing her in its erotic shroud. Tucker was in her bedroom, sitting on the edge of her bed, brushing back her hair.

Turning to the side, she grasped his hand and brought it to her breast. His moan was loud and lusty and so sexy it made every part of her body hurt. She arched into his palm.

His touch intensified as he flicked a thumb over her bare nipple. It was her turn to moan. She felt his hand slide lower, caress her stomach, which he leaned over and kissed.

“Please...more,” she whispered into the dreamy darkness.

A male chuckle.

His hand went lower. He cupped her boldly.

She cried out. “Tucker!”

Then his mouth was at her ear. “Wake up darlin’. You’re killin’ me, here.”

From outside of the dream, she could see her head move back and forth on the pillow. “No, no. Don’t want to wake up.”

Butterfly soft kisses on her cheek. A mouth on her neck.

She raised her hand and clasped his nape, anchoring him to her, trying madly to hold on to the dream.

It was the smell that woke her. The woodsy, just-applied,
very real
smell of aftershave.

She opened her eyes. “Oh, my God.”

He drew back. His gaze was filled with an odd combination of lust and amusement. “Sweetheart, if you’re this sexy asleep, I can’t wait to get my hands on you when you’re awake.”

She glanced down her body, naked beneath the slipping sheet. Then she looked back up at him. Never in her life had she wanted a man more. “I...”

Standing, he dragged his blue and white striped dress shirt out of his navy pants. His big hands released one button on the placket, then two. “The door was unlocked. You should be more careful. No tellin’ who’ll come in and find you in bed, all lazy and warm, in the middle of a Sunday afternoon.”

“Careful?” Her mouth went dry when the entire set of buttons was undone. Better than a Chippendale, he shrugged out of the shirt slowly. A mass of curly dark blond hair drew her gaze like a magnet. It dropped lower when his hands went to his belt.

“I locked up the house, of course,” he said matter-of-factly.

Jingle, jingle. The belt was unfastened.

“And the bedroom door’s locked, too, just to be safe.”

“Safe?” she whispered hoarsely over the audible rasp of a zipper being undone.

“Hmm.” Plop. Plop. Shoes hit the floor. “And I closed all the blinds and unplugged the phones.”

His pants dropped to his feet revealing navy blue silk boxers. “We’re all alone, Mary Elizabeth. Just you and me.”

His thumbs hooked into the waistband of his shorts, he gave her an I’m-yours-baby look. She knew she should ask him something, but she couldn’t think straight, could only stare at the road map of muscles rippling his chest, cording his arms and bare legs. All of him was lightly dusted with the dark blond hair, as if God had sprinkled it himself in just the right places.

“Don’t stop there,” she whispered achingly.

“Your son came to see me today.” He eased the Calvin Kleins down an inch.

She swallowed hard. “Do I have a son?”

He chuckled and the sexy sound made her toes curl.

Another inch was bared. Oh, God.

“He asked me what my intentions were with you.”

Her gaze flew to his face. “And you told him?”

“Not about this.”

Her gaze dropped to
this
.

One more inch and he stopped. “Look at me, darlin’.”

“I am, Tucker, oh, I am.”

“Look at my face.”

Reluctantly her gaze traveled up his body. She took pleasure in the way it flushed as she perused it.

His voice was husky as he said, “Before we do this...” He stared at her. “I want you to know I told Ron that I was in love with you, Beth.”

“Tell me.”

He smiled. Dropped his shorts, and stood before her eloquently aroused. After giving her a minute to look her fill, he whipped back the sheet, took his own sweet time letting his eyes travel over the contours, dips, and curves of her body then placed a knee on the bed.

Finally, he covered her with his weight; he drew her arms up so they bracketed her head and linked his hands with hers. “I love you, Beth. The kid’s okay with it now, but even if he wasn’t, I didn’t plan to let you go. I want to marry you.” He bumped his middle with hers, giving her a sample of his impressive anatomy.

She bumped back. “Yes.”

“Yes? Just like that?”

“Uh-huh. Don’t take no time at all for Bonnie Parker to make up her mind, Mister.”

Just before his mouth closed over hers, he whispered, “Good. Maybe we can work on a little brother or sister for Ronny.”

Sexily, Beth smiled. “Ronny would like that.”

Tucker smiled back. “So would The Menace.”

o0o

“THIS is Margo, leave a message.”

“Come on, honey, pick up.” Sneakered feet propped up, Linc lounged back at his desk and stared at the wall, at the cross she’d given him. No answer. “Aw, hell, where are you at five o’clock on Sunday night? Do you realize you haven’t talked to me in a month? I miss you, Mary Margaret.”

Still no answer.

“You know, I feel like I’m having an affair with your answering machine.” Under his breath, he murmured, “Is this like cybersex?”

He could swear he heard her chuckle. Geez, he was really losing it.

“I love you, damn it, and I’m not letting you go. I’ll storm down to New York, throw you over my shoulder and drag you back here if I have to. Like I did when you and that freaky guy in college were planning to go cross country.”

“I remember that.” Her voice was husky.

“Oh, thank God.” She’d picked up. “I’m mad at you, Margo.”

“I’m sorry.”

Something was wrong here. “You sound funny.”

“You look funny sitting there with your feet up on your desk talking to an answering machine. The new jeans I bought you fit great, though.”

His feet hit the floor with a thud, and Linc whirled around in the chair. His jaw dropped.

“Close your mouth, Rev, or you’ll catch flies.” Full of sass and dressed like sin, she lounged in his open doorway. Dusk was falling, and he devoured the sight of her. Black pants to just below her knees gave way to an expanse of shin and ended in three-inch mules. A leopard-skin Spandex top hugged her curves.

He wondered how quickly he could get the outfit off of her.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asked softly.

She sidled inside and closed the door. “It’s a long story.”

Standing, he walked toward her. Probably because of the look on his face, she backed up to the door. When he reached her, he snicked the lock and braced his hands on either side of her head, palms flat against the wood.

Then he took her mouth. It was a hot, sexy kiss that had her whimpering. His last thought before irrationality claimed him was that at least he still had the touch to send her up in flames.

The kiss went on a very long time. When he pulled back, her eyes were slumberous, her body soft and pliant.

“Come on, baby.” He drew her to the couch. “Sit.”

She sat.

He dropped down next to her. Taking her hand, he held on tight. “What’s going on? You got me dyin’ here.”

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “I had a lot of thinking to do, and being with you confuses the issues.”

He scowled. “What are the issues? What’s been happening?”

“I quit my job.”

“What?”

“I quit CompuQuest.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“I got all night.”
The rest of my life
.

She tapped her do-me high heels on the floor. “You were right about Philip.”

Son of a bitch
. He forced himself to remember he was a man of God. And her stricken look softened him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t want to be right.”

Sighing heavily, she just stared at him.

“Did he force you out?”

“Nope. As a matter of fact, Jack Sheer asked me to reconsider when I handed in my resignation yesterday.”

The information hurt. She’d made monumental decisions without consulting him. But hell, he got what he wanted so why did he care? “Start from the beginning.”

She lay back on the cushions. He noted the smudges beneath her eyes and the lines of stress around her mouth. “It started just where you said it did. The pressure was all very subtle.”

Still holding her hand—and
please God let me keep my big mouth shut
—he listened to her tell him about the remarks Philip made, the actions he took and the culmination which, ironically, led to her appointment as vice president of engineering.

“That’s exactly what you wanted, Margo. I can’t believe you threw it back in their faces.”

“Neither could they.” She sighed. “It feels good, though.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“Because I realized I didn’t want that life anymore. Good people like Jack Sheer are trapped by it. Even he can’t do the right thing in a situation like this. It’s an empty life. And unfulfilling.”

Linc rubbed her hand with his thumb, noting the cut she had on her middle finger. He wondered how she’d gotten it. Oh, God, this was lame. He wanted to know every single thing there was to know about her. “So, where do we go from here?”

Her whole body tensed. “I’m not sure. I gotta tell you something else, before we decide.”

Stoically, he readied himself for the emotional blow.
Please, God, let me handle this okay
.

“I...um...” She gave him a soulful look. And then, shockingly, her eyes filled.

He’d only seen her cry once before, when he’d told her he was going into the ministry. And, for the first time, Reverend Abraham Lincoln Grayson did not know what to do. He did not know how to give comfort to the woman whom he loved, next to God, more than anything else in the world. “Margo?”

She linked their fingers. “I heard your sermon this morning.”

It was the last thing he expected. “What...where...I didn’t see you.”

“I stood behind that big bulletin board just outside the sanctuary.”

The picture of her in this get-up, almost in church, blew him away. “Why did you come there?”