by Eve Gaddy
He tucked his hands in his pockets. “Hey, Maggie.”
“Hey, Tucker.” She delivered a particularly nasty roundhouse kick to the bag, dropped her hands and shook out her shoulders. He glanced away, reminding himself that he didn’t want to screw up their friendship.
“So, Tucker, why didn’t you tell me you were practically engaged when you agreed to marry me?”
“Come again?” He stared at her blankly.
“Isabella. Does the name ring any bells?”
“Where did you hear about Isabella? And I wasn’t engaged to her.”
“All but, according to my source.”
“Then your source is full of shit.”
Maggie laughed and took a seat on the weight bench. “You shouldn’t talk that way about your mother.”
“My mother told you I was engaged to Isabella? Why would she do that?” Especially since she knew it wasn’t true.
“Give the man a cigar. Yes, your mother and I had a lovely lunch today. Remind me to do it again, sometime. Like, maybe sometime in the next century.”
He took a seat beside her and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damn, I thought she took the news awfully well. I should have known.”
“Looks like. Why didn’t you tell me?” She struggled with her glove and Tucker took one of her hands in his to help her take it off, then tackled the other one, ignoring how she tried to jerk her hands free of him.
“Because I was not, and have never been, engaged or almost engaged to anyone, including Isabella. Before you, that is.” Okay, there was one woman, but that was a long time ago and not relevant to the discussion.
Maggie stood and paced away. “Your mother hates me. We can’t get married. It was a stupid, stupid idea anyway.”
“It wasn’t stupid. My mother doesn’t hate you, she just doesn’t know you. And she has some wacko ideas about who I should marry, but it’s none of her business who I do or don’t decide to marry.”
She turned back to him, frowning. “I don’t want to cause trouble between you. Especially because of a fake marriage.”
“You won’t. Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle my mother.”
“Tucker, are you sure you want to do this?”
He smiled. “Oddly enough, I am.”
“Well, then at the least we shouldn’t have the wedding at her house. Not considering how she feels about the whole thing. Let’s just go to the JP.”
“I’ll talk to her,” he repeated. “We’re still having it at my parents’ place. It will look better that way.”
“Oh, yes, let’s,” she said. “Just what I want to do is say vows in front of a woman who hates my guts.”
He walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. He turned her so he could scan her face and didn’t like what he saw. There was temper in her eyes, but there was hurt, as well. “She hurt your feelings, didn’t she? What did she say to you?”
She hunched her shoulder. “Nothing important. Just enough to let me know she isn’t in favor of the marriage.”
She wouldn’t bad-mouth his mother, no matter how well deserved. It didn’t surprise him, but it touched him. And it really burned him to know that his mother had chosen to hurt his bride, fake or not.
It took him a while but he managed to soothe Maggie’s fears and joke her out of the bad mood she was in. By the time she went off to shower he figured he’d taken care of one part of the problem. His mother would have to wait until morning, but he intended to pay her a call, bright and early.
THE NEXT MORNING Tucker showed up at his parents’ house so early he caught his mother in her robe. She looked happy to see him, fussing over him and asking if he’d eaten breakfast.
He sat down at the table. “Coffee’s fine. I’ve got to get to work. I just came by to ask you what the hell you think you’re doing, going behind my back to harass Maggie.”
Her mouth opened and closed like a guppy’s. “I did no such thing. I asked her to lunch to get better acquainted. If she’s telling you lies—”
He held up a hand. “Can the innocent act, Mom. Maggie wouldn’t tell me exactly what you said, beyond some damn lie about me and Isabella, but whatever you said, it upset her.”
“I told her you were all but engaged.” She sniffed. “Which is true, Tucker, you know it is.”
“Mom, I had a few dates with the woman. Trust me, we weren’t talking marriage.” She started to speak but he cut her off. “But she’s not important. Maggie, and the way you treat her, is what’s important here.”
Her face crumpled. “Tucker, you can’t really mean to marry that woman. Maggie Barnes?” she said, with just enough attitude to really piss him off.
He stood up. “I’m marrying Maggie tomorrow. We can either do it nicely and happily here or we’ll do it at the justice of the peace’s office. In which case you won’t be invited.”
“Tucker!”
“You’ve got a choice, Mom. You can either accept Maggie and treat her with the respect my bride deserves or you can forget about seeing me anytime in the foreseeable future.”
“Tucker!” Her eyes were wide with shock. “You’d disown your own mother?”
Since he’d vented, most of his anger had passed and he looked at her in exasperation. “Of course I wouldn’t disown you. You’re my mother, regardless of what you say or do that I don’t like. But I won’t put up with you disrespecting Maggie. Not now when she’s my fiancée and not later, when she’s my wife. Are we clear?”
His mother stood, as well, pulling herself together. “Perfectly. Your father and I insist you have the wedding here. I’ll talk to Maggie and apologize for whatever I inadvertently said to upset her.”
Inadvertent, his ass. But he let it pass. He had to admire how quickly and gracefully she’d bowed to defeat. “I’d appreciate that. I’ll give you the number of guests who’ll attend as soon as we know.”
Getting married was more complicated than he’d realized. He wondered if being married would be just as complex. Or would it be worse?
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE NEXT DAY, Maggie and Tucker recited their vows in the Joneses’ living room. Maggie thought the whole thing had a little bit of a surreal feel to it. Almost as if it were happening to someone else.
“You may now kiss the bride,” Reverend Crane said.
Tucker took Maggie in his arms and kissed her. It was brief, but it felt more real than anything else that had happened that day.
He smiled down at her and said, “You clean up good.”
She laughed. “Flatterer.”
“If you want the truth, you look gorgeous.”
She ignored the note of sincerity in his voice. Best not go there. “All brides are beautiful. It’s a requirement,” Maggie said, getting her stride back. She couldn’t help smiling. “But thanks.”
“You’re as beautiful today as I’ve ever seen you,” he said and took her hand as they turned to face their families and friends.
He’s just being nice, she told the fluttering in her stomach. Don’t make too much of it.
“Maggie, you look stunning,” Delilah said a short time later as she hugged her. “Your gown is absolutely perfect for you.”
Maggie was glad she’d listened to her mother and bought the long white gown that she’d seen at the first shop they’d entered. She’d fallen instantly in love with it. Strapless and slim-fitting, it was deceptively simple except for a little beadwork on the bodice. Though it wasn’t traditional, she thought it suited her. And judging from the appreciative expression in Tucker’s eyes whenever he looked at her, he more than agreed.
And she was glad she’d asked her pastor to marry them, after all. After thinking it over, she’d decided that she should. Once they’d decided against doing the deed at the justice of the peace’s office, there really hadn’t been a choice. First of all, her parents wouldn’t have understood why she didn’t ask him, and worse, the reverend himself would have been terribly hurt if Maggie, who’d grown up going to his churc
h, didn’t ask him to perform the ceremony.
If she’d thought about Vegas in time all this would be over by now. But neither she nor Tucker had. Maybe she was traditional, after all. She stifled a tiny pang, wishing that she could have been in love and getting married for real. Focus on your goal, she reminded herself. She shot a glance at Tucker, who was smiling at her. The side benefits weren’t too bad, either, she conceded. It was going to be very interesting being married to Tucker.
“Thanks,” she said to Delilah as Cameron hugged her and then claimed the right as one of her oldest friends to kiss the bride.
“You look incredible, Mrs. Jones,” he said, his gray eyes twinkling. “And very happy.”
“I am,” she told him, realizing it was true.
“I’m really happy for you,” Lana Randolph, Cam’s sister-in-law, said as she hugged her. “But I’m still sad you’re moving.”
“I’m not moving very far. I’ll still be living in Aransas City,” Maggie said, returning the hug. She reflected that she was lucky to have friends like Lana and Delilah. Neither had said a word to her, although they had to suspect the real reason for the hasty marriage since they’d both seen her with Grace and, furthermore, knew she hadn’t been dating Tucker. Lana, who was a doctor at the clinic in town, had even examined the baby for Maggie and pronounced her healthy. And Delilah witnessed the scene at the restaurant, so she definitely knew something was up.
But apparently, neither of her friends had given voice to their suspicions around their husbands. Gabe wouldn’t have said anything, but Cam, at least, would have ragged on her about her decision to marry Tucker so suddenly if he knew the truth.
“But you won’t be living next door to us. It’s not the same,” Lana said.
“Move over and let me kiss the bride,” Gabe said, and did so as Lana talked to Tucker.
“You’re a lucky man, Tucker,” Gabe said a moment later.
Tucker grinned as he shook hands with Gabe. “You got that right.”
Maggie wondered if he really felt lucky or he was just agreeing for form’s sake. He seemed happy, laughing with their friends. He wore a navy suit with a white shirt and a beautiful silk tie, and he looked to-die-for handsome.
Later, they went outside to have a brief moment alone. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?” Tucker asked her.
“Once or twice. Do you mean it?” Well, now she sounded pathetic. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”
“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. Come on, Maggie. You had to look in the mirror.” He put his hand on her shoulder and rubbed it gently. “You know you look gorgeous.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she changed the subject. “Tucker, I don’t want you to regret this.”
“Marrying you?” He gave her a charming smile. “Maggie, the only thing I regret is that I’m not going to be taking that beautiful dress off my gorgeous bride tonight.” He paused and added, “Am I?”
Maggie laughed. “You know the answer to that.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I was just checking to see if you’d changed your mind.”
She smiled. “Nope. Why, are you having second thoughts?”
“It’s hard not to when the bride in question looks like you do.”
Gazing into his eyes set her stomach to fluttering. Tucker grasped both her shoulders gently and stared at her a long moment. She knew he was going to kiss her. Instead of backing away, which was the smart thing to do, she stood still and willed him to do it.
“Tucker, really,” his mother said from behind them, clearly disapproving.
“Just as well,” he murmured so that only Maggie heard, and kissed her briefly. He smiled at Maggie and released her. “What’s wrong, Mom? Can’t a man kiss his bride?”
Maggie sensed a tension between them. She hated that she was the cause of it, and she knew she was even though Tucker would deny it if she said anything.
Maggie knew nothing less than the fear of losing her son would have made Eileen Jones apologize to her for “upsetting” her as she’d done the day after their abortive lunch. She had to give the woman credit. She’d swallowed her pride and begged Maggie’s forgiveness very nicely. If Maggie hadn’t been a cop who dealt with good liars on a daily basis, she might have believed she meant it.
Eileen didn’t respond to his question. Instead she spoke to Maggie. “Were you planning on throwing the bouquet?”
“I hadn’t, but I can do it if you think I should. There aren’t many single women here, though.” In fact, she could only think of three, not counting Maggie’s spinster aunt, who was at least seventy-five. Oh, Lord, that would be a hoot to see. Aunt Martha would probably knock over the other women in her haste to get to the thing.
“That’s entirely up to you. But if you’re going to throw the bouquet and garter you’ll need to do it soon. Tucker said you had to leave in an hour to catch your plane.”
“Are you wearing a garter?” Tucker asked with interest.
Maggie sent him a mischievous smile. “Of course. It’s my something blue.”
“In that case, Mom, lead the way.” He took Maggie’s hand and they walked toward the living room.
“The house looks really beautiful, Mrs. Jones. I love the way you arranged the flowers,” Maggie said, mindful of her resolve to get along with Tucker’s mother. “Tucker and I really appreciate you letting us hold the wedding and reception here. It was so sweet of you and Mr. Jones.”
Eileen smiled and for the first time Maggie didn’t feel her disapproval. “Thank you, dear. We were happy to do it. And call us Harvey and Eileen, please.”
It struck Maggie where she’d seen that smile before. Tucker looked like his father with the dark hair and blue eyes, while his mother was a petite blond beauty. But he’d inherited his smile from Eileen.
Just before they walked into the room Tucker released Maggie’s hand and put his arm around his mother, hugging her. “Thanks, Mom.”
She looked up at her son and placed a hand on his cheek. “I want you to be happy, Tucker.”
“I am,” he said and smiled at Maggie. “Trust me, I am.”
“Then that’s all that matters. I’ll go gather the women for the bouquet tossing.”
“Tucker, wait.” Maggie put a hand on his arm to stop him from entering the room. “I don’t want to cause trouble between you and your mom.”
“I told you before, you won’t. We’re fine.”
“What did you say to her, Tucker?”
“Nothing for you to worry about. I told her that you were about to become my wife and she needs to treat you with respect.”
“That was sweet of you.”
“Like I said, babe, anything for you. Let’s go take that garter off,” he said.
TUCKER HAD WANTED to stay at The Mansion in Dallas, but Maggie had vetoed it as too expensive and suggested they stay at one of the D-FW airport hotels. He gave in, even though he didn’t intend for her to pay for anything involving the honeymoon. That part had been his idea and he was paying for it.
Tucker wheeled their bags in behind her and took them to the bedroom. One nice big bed. And a sofa bed in the other room, he thought regretfully.
What was wrong with him? He’d agreed to marry Maggie and live with her as a friend. He had no business thinking of sharing her bed, taking off her wedding dress…He shook his head to clear the image of peeling Maggie out of that long, slim, white dress. It’s just the circumstances, he thought. Bride and groom, honeymoon, yada yada. Once they settled in to day-to-day life, he’d be able to see her as he always had. A good friend.
Who happened to be gorgeous and totally hot.
Damn. He left the bags and came out of the bedroom. Maggie had immediately kicked off her shoes and had gone to look out the window. Their room was on the side of the hotel that overlooked a garden, fortunately, instead of a parking lot.
She’d changed out of her wedding dress, much to Tucker’s disappointment. She still looked great, th
ough. She wore a short, sexy skirt and a V-necked sweater that clung to her amazing curves. Curves he needed to ignore. He’d changed into khakis and a button-down shirt, since he saw no point in taking a suit he wouldn’t wear to Colorado.
He went to the minibar and popped the cork on the bottle of champagne, then poured a couple of glasses and walked over to Maggie.
“Did you arrange this?” she asked, accepting a glass.
“It seemed appropriate. It is our wedding night.” He clinked his glass against hers and said, “Bottoms up.”
She laughed and sipped. “Very romantic. Is that how you wow all the women?”
He smiled and took a seat. “No, but romance isn’t the point of our marriage, is it? I should have said, to Grace.” He raised his glass and they toasted the baby.
She sat beside him and sighed. “Are you sorry I got you into this?”
“No, I’m a big boy. I could have said no.”
“Why did you agree, Tucker?”
He considered her. “Are you having cold feet again, Maggie?”
“No. Not really. But I’m wondering how you’re going to deal with several months of celibacy.”
He shrugged. “It’s not that big a deal. I haven’t had a relationship in—” He stopped and thought about it. “Seven months. About. Maybe a little longer.”
“You don’t have to have a relationship to have sex,” she said.
“I do. At least, I do now. I like to get to know a woman before we go to bed together.” Her expression was so deeply suspicious he nearly laughed. “I told you I wasn’t in to meaningless sex.”
“What about Isabella? You dated her several times, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. But we hadn’t made it to that stage.”
“Why?”
“Is this how you grill your suspects?”
“I wasn’t grilling you. I’m just curious about the woman your mother said you were practically engaged to.”
“She’s a nice woman. But she wasn’t anyone I wanted to be serious about. Which I think she knew. And that’s why I didn’t sleep with her. My mother—well, you have to take what she says with a grain of salt.”
