Chapter 6
T
ucker was a little surprised she’d agreed to leave with him. It was obvious what he wanted, which could only mean she wanted the same thing if she’d left with him so readily. When they were in the hall he took her hand, and she held on as he picked up his pace. He led her down another hall, where he’d spied an empty office earlier.
She didn’t ask any questions when he led her inside and closed the door.
He leaned her back against it and started kissing her. She immediately kissed him back while unbuckling his belt.
Yes. She was definitely onboard with this plan.
He tried to roll up her dress, but there seemed to be something else underneath. He tugged at it, but it didn’t move. Finally, he was distracted enough by the resistance to pull away and look down to examine the problem.
“What is this?” he asked, tugging at a black, shiny skirtlike thing under her dress.
“Compression wear. It’s like a New-Age girdle.”
“Why the hell are you wearing it?” She was perfect. She didn’t need a girdle, New Age or otherwise.
“It makes my butt look smaller.”
“Ridiculous. How do I get it off?” That was the more important question.
“Oh, uh. Well . . .” She tried rolling up the dress first and then the black thing, but it wouldn’t go.
“Just take the dress off and we’ll toss that thing in the trash.”
“No! I need it to fit into the dress.”
“Why didn’t you get a bigger dress?” he asked.
“I didn’t want to be an eight. I wanted to be a six.”
“Baby, I think if a six doesn’t fit without this other crap, then you’re really an eight,” he reasoned.
She frowned and rubbed her forehead. He could tell the hot moment was now over, ruined by an unnecessary undergarment.
“Riley is a two,” she mentioned, causing him to sigh and zip up his pants. It was definitely not going to happen now.
“Is a two found in the little girls’ department?” he asked, getting a tiny trace of a smile out of her. “I like my women to be . . .
women
. I especially like eights.” For the life of him, he didn’t know a thing about the numbers on the tags in women’s clothes. He only knew Nichole was hot as hell, whatever size she was.
She smiled wider and then lightly smacked his arm.
“You’ve never dated an eight in your life,” she challenged.
“Are we dating now?” he asked, truly wanting to know.
“No. You know what I meant.” No, he didn’t.
She began straightening her dress and smoothing her hair.
“Will you come to my room tonight?” He wasn’t giving up easily.
“No.”
“Can I come to yours?” he tried again, sounding desperate. He was desperate.
“No.” With that, she opened the door, peeked out, and left.
He leaned against the wall in the dark for another moment, waiting until he could walk safely without impaling himself.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been confused by a woman. Every guy knew he was at a disadvantage when he tried to master the female mind. But it didn’t keep him from trying over and over. He already knew he would try again with Nichole.
When his pants were a bit roomier, he went to find his brother.
“Come on, I’ll buy you your last drink as a single guy,” he offered.
They walked to the bar, where Cooper frowned.
“We don’t need to—”
“Shut up. I don’t get to be the best man; you can at least let me buy you a drink.” Tucker nodded at the pretty bartender. “Triple malt Scotch for him and a virgin strawberry daiquiri for me, hold the stupid umbrella.”
“How about a sword?” the little brunette asked.
“I wouldn’t call it a sword really.” He winked at her, making her blush.
“No. We use little plastic swords in our drinks,” she explained with a glint in her eye. Too bad he wasn’t interested in her. Not for anything more than flirting.
“Ah! Yeah, I definitely want a sword.”
Cooper was staring at him as he sat on the stool next to him.
“What?” Tucker asked, holding out his hand innocently. “I like strawberry daiquiris.”
“That’s not what I was concerned about.” Cooper frowned as he glanced over at the bartender as she started up the blender.
“I’m sorry; you said I couldn’t mess around with the maid of honor. You said nothing about the bartender, or anyone else for that matter.”
“Are you even supposed to be in a relationship yet? I seem to remember your therapist saying you should put that off until you were more stable.”
“I
am
stable, and I’m not in a relationship. God! You just have to find things to worry about with me, don’t you? You can’t be happy that I’m fine?”
“Trust me, I would be thrilled if you were fine.”
Tucker doubted that. His brother loved to fix things for people. Hence the reason he became a lawyer; so he could help people. Instead of fighting with the groom, Tucker let out a sigh as the girl set down the drinks in front of them. A blue plastic sword was speared through a strawberry, a piece of pineapple, and a strip of paper with her number on it.
“Unbelievable,” Cooper said, rolling his eyes.
“Do you want me to see if she’d be up for both of us?” he asked, just to mess with his brother.
Cooper took a sip of his drink without any reaction. He’d long become desensitized to Tucker’s humor.
When their glasses were empty, they walked to the elevator. “Thank you for being supportive of my decision to get married. I was expecting more of a fuss from you.”
“A fuss?”
“You know, picketing, statistics on unsuccessful marriages, that sort of thing.”
“I was planning on it, but then I saw you with her, and I knew I didn’t have anything to protest. She makes you happy. Even an idiot like me can see that.”
Cooper smiled as they got off the elevator on the top floor, where their suites were.
“Speaking of the lovely bride, I thought Roslyn would be staying in the suite tonight,” Tucker said.
Cooper’s smile grew wider. “She is.”
Tucker laughed at his rule-abiding brother breaking a cardinal rule the night before his wedding.
“It was a stupid tradition anyway,” Tucker said with a nod and headed back to his own suite. Alone.
The next day was perfect for a wedding. It was a little brisk, but the sun was shining, the sky was blue, and there was no ice in sight.
Nichole showered and dressed in jeans and a sweater. No need to get dressed up quite yet. It was only breakfast.
She took special care to cover the dark circles under her eyes, evidence of her restless sleep. She’d tossed and turned most of the night. Twice she got out of bed, ready to go to Tucker’s room and beg him for sex.
The only thing that kept her from going was her worry he had found someone else to take her place when she’d turned him down.
She rode down in the elevator with Riley and her mother, Pam. Pam was complaining about how much everything cost.
“Mama, they want to have a nice wedding. And they didn’t ask you for a dime, so why are you making a big deal?” Riley rolled her eyes as she smiled at Nic. “Mothers,” she grumbled under her breath as they all exited the elevator and headed toward the smell of French toast and bacon.
Nichole found herself wishing she and her mother only had disagreements about how money was spent.
Davinia Maureen Rhodes Atherton-Welles-Donaldson-Roth had an opinion about everything. And in that opinion, she found Nichole to be a colossal disappointment time and time again.
Nichole tensed when she remembered she would be seeing her mother today. Cooper had invited her, not just because she was Nichole’s mother but having been divorced three times had made her one of Cooper’s best clients before he’d changed firms. Now she went to him for her real-estate dealings instead.
She met up with Tucker, who was waiting in line at the buffet, his dark hair messy, his jaw covered with sexy stubble. She stood behind him with her plate, and he turned to frown at her.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked.
“Great,” she said with a big cheery smile.
“My ass,” he said and turned back to pile sausage and bacon on his plate. “Any regrets?” He was smiling down at her.
“None.”
“Uh-huh. Anyone ever tell you you’re a horrible liar?”
She ignored him so she could focus on some wheat toast and fruit salad.
He looked down at her plate with a frown. “If you think a piece of bacon or a number on the tag inside your dress make a difference when it comes to me wanting to see you naked in my bed, you aren’t as smart as I thought, Dr. Atherton.” He gave her a haughty look and left to take a seat over by the window.
Cooper and Roslyn were sitting with their mothers, who seemed to be bickering over the two of them seeing each other before the wedding. She didn’t want to sit there and have to weigh in on that. She glanced around the room and found the minister open. That didn’t seem appealing. What would they talk about? How she was lusting over the other groomsman?
Lexi—the other bridesmaid—was sitting at a table with her husband. They had a new baby and this was a romantic getaway for them. She didn’t want to crowd them.
There were some other strangers. Aunts, uncles, cousins. She couldn’t remember ever meeting any of the Matthews relatives, so she wasn’t sure who belonged to Cooper and who belonged to Roslyn.
Finally, she just gave up and went to sit across from Tucker. He smiled at her crookedly.
“Good to know I won out over the minister,” he said with his mouth full.
“Shut up and eat your breakfast.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He was only silent for a few bites and then he tilted his head to the side.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask,” she said, making it clear she might not answer.
“Was your wedding like this?” He waved his fork around the room. “Fancy?”
She laughed once and then nodded.
“I didn’t technically have a wedding, but yes. It was really bad.”
“Right, because your mama has a lot of cash.” He nodded.
“Yeah. And so did his parents.”
“And you really didn’t know he was gay?” He sounded doubtful.
“No.” She thought over the question. “Maybe I did and didn’t want to face it?” She shrugged, unsure.
“It hurt,” he said.
“Yeah. It did.” It still did. She’d had plans. Someone in her life, and it was all . . . wrong. The worst part was that despite how wrong it had been, she wanted it back. Or at least she wanted someone to share her life with. Someone to come home to and talk to about her patients. Someone to reach for in the middle of the night.
The truth was, she needed to learn how to be alone. No matter how much it terrified her. She was determined not to settle for just anyone. She was going to wait for the right person.
“Well, I’m told I need to be ready by one for the pictures that won’t start until two for the wedding that doesn’t start until three,” Tucker announced as he stood up to go.
“Me too.”
“I’m going to go for a swim and then take a nap.” He stopped and turned back to her. “Unless you want to—”
“Have a nice nap,” she said quickly, before he was able to tempt her. At this point, it wouldn’t have taken much.
“Okay.”
After breakfast she checked in with Cooper twice to see if he needed anything. Both times she was told everything was ready.
“Go relax. You’ve done more than enough. If it isn’t perfect by now, it will be good enough. To be honest, I just want to get it over with so we can start the fun part.” She wasn’t certain if he was speaking of the honeymoon or the rest of their life together.
With two hours of nothing in front of her, she purposefully walked past the pool. Tucker was sitting on a chaise against the far wall with a towel over his head. She only knew it was him because she recognized the tattoos on his bare chest.
Unless some other guest had a dragon over their heart or Sanskrit up their ribs.
As if sensing her presence, he picked up the towel and smiled at her as she peered through the tiny window.
“Shit.” She was busted.
She opened the door and walked in, the strong smell of chlorine burning her nose as she moved around the pool and sat next to him.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Nothing. I’m bored.”
“If I remember correctly, I did offer to make the day more exciting.”
“Don’t you ever stop being a dog?”
“No.”
“Not even during conversations with ministers?” she asked, raising her brow. He’d shared the story with Cooper, who’d shared it with her.
“That disloyal bastard,” he mumbled with a chuckle.
“You know Cooper loves me more than he loves you.” She scrunched up her nose.
His movements like a cat’s, he got up from his chaise. She was still laughing until his arms slid under her and he picked her up as if she weighed ten pounds.
“What are you doing?” she asked, afraid he might kiss her but maybe wanting him to anyway.
He didn’t kiss her.
He smiled and then dropped her into the deep end of the pool.
Even as the bubbles swirled around her vision, she couldn’t believe he’d done it. She coughed when she broke through the water and swiped her hair out of her face.
“You asshole! I can’t believe you just did that!”
“I was only going to hold you over the water to scare you, but that piece of wheat toast must have put you up a pound and I just wasn’t strong enough to hold you anymore. Sorry.” He sure didn’t look sorry.
She swam over to the ladder and climbed up, her jeans weighed down with water, her cashmere sweater hanging oddly. No doubt the gift from her mother would never be right again.