by Eve Gaddy
His mother choked on her wine. His father shot him a keen glance, then said, “Congratulations, son.” He shook hands with Tucker and when Maggie offered hers, he smiled and took it, then bent to kiss her cheek. “Congratulations, my dear. His mother and I happen to think Tucker’s pretty special.”
“Thank you. So do I,” Maggie said, surprising him.
“Married?” Eileen said faintly. “You and—and—You and Maggie are getting married?”
“Show her the rock,” Tucker said to Maggie.
“Tucker.” Maggie gave him a warning glance before turning back to his mother and smiling down at her a little anxiously. “I know it’s kind of a shock.”
Eileen stared at Maggie, then patted her lips with a napkin. “Yes, you might say that. I wasn’t aware you and Maggie were even seeing each other, Tucker,” she said, her voice having regained its strength. “This is very sudden, isn’t it? Is there a particular reason you’re in such a rush?”
“Relax, Mom. Maggie’s not pregnant.”
Maggie kicked him.
“Ouch.” He rubbed his shin and grinned at Maggie, whose eyes were dark green and flashing him death threats. “I was only saying what she was thinking.”
“Really, Tucker, that was uncalled for,” Eileen said. “I thought no such thing. I simply wondered why I had heard nothing of this.”
“Why don’t we sit down and talk about it?” Harvey asked. Tucker and Maggie sat on the couch while his dad took the other side chair.
Tucker took Maggie’s hand again and told his parents the same thing he’d told Maggie’s parents. “I’ve been asking Maggie to marry me for almost a year now. Since shortly after I moved to Aransas City and we got to know each other again. It took me this long to convince her to marry me. I’m not waiting for her to change her mind.”
Neither of them looked as if they were buying that lie. But neither Maggie nor Tucker could think of a better one, other than that Maggie was pregnant and they’d already blown that one by telling her parents she wasn’t.
“If Maggie isn’t certain about the wedding perhaps you should wait,” Eileen said, looking hopeful.
“Well, Maggie? What do you say?” He tilted his head and considered her.
Her lips curved as she looked at him. “I’m sure. What about you?”
“Absolutely.” Since it seemed necessary, he kissed her lightly.
“Sounds like we’re having a wedding, Eileen.”
“Yes, it does.”
She sounded resigned. Maybe she wouldn’t be as difficult as he’d thought.
“This Friday?” Eileen repeated. “And you want to have the wedding here? At our house?”
“That was Tucker’s idea,” Maggie said hastily. “It’s no problem if we can’t. We’ll just go down to the justice of the peace’s office.”
Tucker nearly laughed. She couldn’t have said anything more calculated to give his mother palpitations. Harvey and Eileen Jones’s only offspring getting married at the JP’s office?
Eileen gave a faint moan. “No, no. If you insist on getting married in this—this rushed fashion, you’ll have it here.”
“Thank you.”
“How many people are you inviting?”
“No more than fifty. Maybe not that many.”
“Definitely not that many,” Maggie said, sending him a severe glare. “We just want family and a few friends.”
His dad hadn’t said much. He was still watching them closely, though. Sometimes Tucker wished his old man wasn’t so observant.
“About the decorations, the flowers and such, do you have a theme in mind?” Eileen asked Maggie.
Maggie threw him a panicked glance. “Theme?”
“We just decided this yesterday, Mom. Maggie hasn’t had time to think about all that.”
She waved him aside. “Nonsense. Maggie’s close to your age, isn’t she? Surely she’s thought about what she wants her wedding to be like. Haven’t you?”
“Not exactly,” Maggie said.
“Is this your first marriage?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Just curious, dear.” She laughed again. “I can’t imagine not having thought about my wedding at your age. Why, I had mine planned from the time I was fourteen.”
“Tucker, would you mind looking at something for me?” Harvey said. “In my office.”
“Sure, Dad.” He hated to leave Maggie but his mother seemed to be behaving herself and Maggie was doing all right. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he told her.
“Take your time,” Eileen said. “Maggie and I will get all these details ironed out.”
Tucker followed his dad to his office. Harvey shut the door and said, “I don’t have anything to show you. I just wanted to ask you what’s going on.”
“I’m getting married. I thought it was pretty self-explanatory.”
Harvey crossed his arms and leaned back against the edge of his desk. “Not this time. You’re not in love with Maggie, Tucker. And you said she wasn’t pregnant. So I have to ask, why are you marrying her?”
Crap. He should have known his father would see through the lie. He wanted to tell him the truth, but he’d promised Maggie. Besides, he wasn’t entirely sure his father wouldn’t let it slip to his mother. And if she knew, that would be a disaster.
“You’re wrong, Dad. I’ve been in love with Maggie for months.”
“Which is why you’ve been dating a number of other women all this time,” he said drily. “Including, your mother tells me, Isabella Jensen. Your mother thought you were serious about her.”
“No, not at all. I told you Maggie wouldn’t marry me. I was trying to forget about her.” Tucker figured the less said about other women, the better. “I want to marry Maggie. I’m thirty-five, Dad, I know what I’m doing.”
“You should, but I’m not sure that you do.” He considered Tucker a moment, then smiled. “She’s a beautiful woman. Unusual.”
“Yeah.” Tucker smiled, too. “Maggie’s one in a million.”
“Well, as you pointed out, you’re a grown man. Let’s go rescue your bride-to-be from your mother.”
Tucker laughed. “Mom seemed to take the news pretty well. Better than I’d expected.”
Harvey laid a hand on his shoulder. “With your mother you can never tell. I wouldn’t be too complacent.”
“Maggie’s a cop. I’d back her against Mom anytime.”
ARMED ROBBERS. Murderers. Thugs. Bangers. Psychos. Oh, why couldn’t the chief call and tell her he had an emergency? Anything would be better than being interrogated by the dragon lady, Maggie thought.
That nice, slightly puzzled demeanor she’d displayed while Tucker was in the room had vanished the instant he left. She’d begun firing questions at Maggie like a general marshaling his troops. Oh, she hadn’t been overtly rude, but it was clear from her questions that she thought Maggie was a damn poor choice as a bride for her precious son. Her attitude annoyed Maggie but she felt guilty, too. Eileen Jones only wanted the best for Tucker and she had no idea this so-called marriage was a sham.
“So we’re agreed on white roses?”
“That’s fine. I really don’t want you to go to a lot of trouble, Mrs. Jones. I told Tucker we could—”
“Please.” She raised a hand with a look of revulsion. “Don’t mention the justice of the peace again. My son will not be married in an office.”
Maggie bit her tongue. Eileen had pulled out paper and pen and started making a list. “Now, about the food. Did you have anything special in mind?”
Maggie looked at her blankly. She had no idea what to serve at a wedding reception. “I’m sure my mother could bring something. She loves to cook.” Unlike Maggie, who considered it torture.
Eileen looked up from her list. “Home cooking?” She laughed, that short, high-pitched tinkle that made Maggie long for earplugs. “Really, Maggie, I hardly think that will be necessary. We’ll have it catered. I’m sure I can find someone who’ll help out on the spu
r of the moment.”
Maggie fidgeted. “Have it catered? Won’t that be expensive?”
“Expensive? What has that got to do with it?” She looked as if she’d never heard of the concept.
“I thought all this was the bride’s responsibility.” Maggie gestured to include the huge room. “You know, the reception and all that.”
“Yes, I suppose it is. Traditionally. But yours is hardly a traditional wedding, now, is it?” She gave her a superior smile. “Don’t worry, dear. We’ll take care of it. I’m sure you can’t afford this sort of thing on the salary of a public servant.” She said the last two words with an audible sneer.
That fired Maggie’s temper. You’re a cop, she thought. Where are your ovaries? She stood. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m paying for the reception. I’ll order the flowers. And my mother can be in charge of the food. Tucker and I will deal with the drinks, too.” She entertained a brief, but satisfying, image of a keg of beer smack in the middle of Eileen’s elegant white living room. “You won’t have to worry about anything except to tell people where to put things.”
Tucker and his father came back into the room just then. Irrationally, Maggie wanted to kick Tucker. She contented herself with glaring at him instead.
“What’s going on?” Tucker said.
“Why nothing, darling,” his mother replied, unperturbed by Maggie’s statement. “Maggie here is insisting on paying for the reception and arranging everything herself. I had merely offered her my assistance, but she obviously doesn’t want my help.” She sniffed, clearly offended.
Maggie gritted her teeth. She wasn’t backing down on this one and if Tucker thought she would he could kiss her lily-white—
“We’ll talk it over and let you know tomorrow, Mom. We need to get going. Maggie has the early shift in the morning.”
Harvey gave her another kiss on the cheek before they left. Maggie really liked Tucker’s father. But his mother was going to take some getting used to. It was a very good thing that the marriage was only temporary. Otherwise Maggie would have to face a lifetime of being detested by her mother-in-law.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IT TOOK MOST OF the next morning for Maggie to fill out a report on a cow that liked to walk through town and drop cow patties along Main Street. She’d cited the owner repeatedly, but because the man had known her since she was in diapers, he didn’t pay much attention to her. With long practice, Maggie ignored the almost continually ringing phones until Dottie, the receptionist, buzzed her.
She picked up the receiver, cradling it on her shoulder as she typed. “Officer Barnes.”
“Maggie, dear, this is Eileen.”
For a minute she drew a blank. “Hello, Mrs. Jones. What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to take you to lunch, if you’re free. We can discuss some details about the wedding.”
“I don’t think Tucker—”
“Oh, no, just us girls. Why don’t you come to the country club, around one?”
Oh, right. In my uniform? They’d faint. Glad for the excuse, she said, “I’m sorry, I only have a short lunch hour. Maybe we should try another—”
Again, she was interrupted before she finished her sentence. “Then I’ll come to you. Where do you suggest we meet?”
Why had she even mentioned having a lunch hour? Trapped, Maggie said, “We have a decent Mexican place and the Scarlet Parrot bar and grill. Oh, and there’s a pretty good burger place.” Which she could not see Eileen Jones going to, but it gave them another choice.
“I’ve eaten at the Scarlet Parrot with Tucker before. Let’s go there.”
“All right, I’ll see you at one.” Something told her she was not going to enjoy this lunch. But maybe that was just her suspicious mind. Maybe Mrs. Jones just wanted to get to know Maggie better. How bad could it be?
NATURALLY, she was late. Only by about ten minutes, but still, not the best way to impress your future mother-in-law.
“Maggie, hi,” Delilah said when she walked in. “Are you alone?”
“Ah, no. I’m meeting someone.” She looked around, spying Eileen by the windows. “There she is.”
Delilah turned in the direction Maggie was looking as Eileen waved. “Isn’t that Tucker’s mother?”
“Um, yes.”
“And you and Tucker were just here the other day.”
“Uh, yes,” she said again.
Delilah raised a brow and said, “Really. I know there’s a story here.”
Oh, for God’s sake, Maggie thought, feeling her face heat. I’m blushing and I never blush. “I’ll tell you about it later. I’m late.” She hurried over to Eileen’s table. “Sorry for keeping you waiting. I got tied up at work.”
“That’s quite all right, dear. Think nothing of it.”
Maggie relaxed marginally after they ordered drinks and food. Eileen seemed to be going out of her way to put Maggie at ease, chatting away about nothing in particular. So why did she get the feeling that a Mack truck was about to hit her dead between the eyes?
The feeling persisted as their food was served. Maggie took a bite of shrimp, washed it down with a sip of tea, then said, “Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about? I mean, about the wedding details?”
Eileen had taken a bite of her shrimp salad and looked pleasantly surprised. “This is quite good.”
“Best on the coast,” Maggie said with pride, as if she owned the restaurant herself. “The owner and his wife are good friends of mine.”
“Hmm. Yes, now about the wedding.” She leaned forward and smiled, but it wasn’t sweet. In fact, Maggie imagined fangs sprouting. “Why don’t you tell me just exactly what you think you’re doing, luring my son into marrying you when he’s all but engaged to another woman?”
Maggie simply stared at her. She wasn’t easily blind-sided, but the accusation had come out of nowhere. “Tucker said nothing to me about being engaged to anyone else.”
“He wouldn’t. Not if you were pregnant and he felt obligated to marry you.”
“He told you I wasn’t. Are you calling your son a liar?”
“No, I know my son. And I also know lying, scheming, manipulative women.” She sat back and sipped her tea delicately.
Maggie’s temper blazed but she held it back. “Meaning me.”
Eileen inclined her head regally. “If the shoe fits, and all that.”
Carefully, Maggie laid down her fork, determined not to give the woman the satisfaction of losing her temper. “If Tucker was engaged he’d have told me.”
“He wasn’t engaged. Technically. But Isabella and I have been expecting him to ask her any moment.”
Isabella. He had said he’d been going out with someone, but he hadn’t implied it was serious. The opposite, if anything. “Maybe you should talk to Tucker. It doesn’t sound like he’s on the same wavelength as the two of you.” And if he had been, she was going to clean his clock for saying he’d marry her.
Eileen’s expression changed to one of bewilderment. “I don’t understand it. Why on earth would Tucker want to marry you?”
Maggie put her hands together in her lap and squeezed. You must not slap her, no matter how much she deserves it. “As opposed to sleep with me and dump me?” she asked sweetly.
“That’s not what I said, or meant. I simply wondered why he wants to marry you.”
“Ask Tucker.” She stared at Eileen as her lips tightened. “Oh, I get it. You’re afraid to go after Tucker. So you thought you’d take me down and solve the problem.”
“Take you down?” She looked horrified. “What a vulgar expression.”
“Yeah, that’s me. Just call me Officer Vulgar.” Maggie got up, threw her napkin down, fished money out of her pocket and tossed it on the table. “That should cover my lunch. Just so you don’t think I’m also a mooch. I suggest you talk to your son if you want the down low and dirty. You’re not getting it from me.” She marched out of the restaurant, head held high, holding on to her
anger so she wouldn’t have to admit to the hurt.
By the time she got home that afternoon, her anger, which she’d been forced to put aside while she worked, returned tenfold. What was Tucker thinking to tell her he’d marry her if he was involved with someone else? And even if that wasn’t true, and she suspected it wasn’t, what was he doing having a mother who was such a pain in the ass? Maggie had known Eileen didn’t like her, but she hadn’t honestly thought she detested her.
She pulled on her shorts, tank and boxing gloves and went to burn off some of her mad.
AS THEY’D ARRANGED, Tucker went to Maggie’s after he left the office so they could work on the guest list. It still felt a little weird to think he was getting married in just a couple of days, but knowing he was helping Maggie made him feel good. Besides, it wouldn’t last forever and then they could get back to their lives.
Maggie was undoubtedly right that they shouldn’t have sex. I mean, how hard could it be? He’d just think of her as his buddy, as he’d done since high school. Almost one of the guys. Simple. All he had to do was forget about the way she kissed him. And his reaction when he saw her at the restaurant. And…He shook his head. From now on any thoughts of Maggie in a sexual manner were strictly forbidden.
He heard the beat of the music through the front door. Finding it unlocked, he opened it and walked in. Really old, classic rock. He wouldn’t have figured her for a classic-rock kind of girl, but the Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil” blared out amazingly loud. He found her in a bedroom she’d obviously converted into her workout room. Halting on the threshold, his mouth went dry. Oh, Mama. She wore a skimpy tank top, short shorts and boxing gloves and was whaling on a punching bag. She didn’t look like one of the guys, that was for damn sure. She looked…Oh, man, she looked hot.
Hands off, he told himself. He watched her for a moment and since she obviously didn’t see him, he walked over and turned the music down. She glanced at him with anything but a friendly expression in those amazing green eyes of hers.
