Unfortunately, and with a smug laugh, Tucker pulled away. Wiping her slobber from around his mouth with his fingertips, he winked and nodded to her plate.
“Eat up, sugar. After that kiss, I have a feeling you’re gonna need to stock up on all the energy you can get for later.”
If later involved taking off all her clothes and getting horizontal with him, then he was right, she needed to chow down in preparation for the main event.
***
“Seriously, just try it!” Talia shoved her drink in his face—turns out, Ginger, the ridiculously beautiful bartender and apparently HBIC knew exactly how to make a fuzzy navel.
“I told you, no girly drinks.” Tucker shoved her hand away, laughing as he twisted his head to the side to avoid the straw she was attempting to jam down his throat.
Talia pursed her lips. “Fine. Whatever. But you are missing out. This thing is delicious. Heaven. Mmm,” she moaned around her straw, sucking the fruity drink right up. She didn’t stop until it slurped the bottom of the cup, indicating she’d drank it all. Bummer.
Looked like it was time for another!
“Just where do you think you’re going?” Tucker asked as she tried to stand and failed. Tried again and failed just as badly.
“I need a refill.” If only her damn legs would get with the program. For crying out loud, who’d attached weights to her ankles. It wasn’t leg day! Or was it…Nope, she had two days until the dreaded squats and burning and holy mother! started.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Tucker flattened a palm on her chest, holding her down. Not that he needed to, considering her entire body was a loose noodle incapable of holding her up. “I think you’ve had more than enough for one night, sugar.”
“Excuse you, buster. I know when I’ve had enough, and I’m at least…I’m…” She scowled at the ground. “What was I saying?”
Tucker chuckled. Removed the empty plastic cup from her hands and pitched it into a nearby trashcan, looking all NBA pro and shit. Show-off.
“You were sayin’ goodnight.”
“But I’m not even tired,” she whined as he bent down and looped his arms under her, lifting her up out of her seat.
“Oh, sugar, you don’t need to be tired to go to bed.”
She frowned again, not understanding him at all. Maybe it was the accent. That southern drawl was smooth as molasses on a hot summer day.
On the way across the expanse of lawn and concrete, Talia waved at everyone, shouting goodnights and farewells to all her new friends. Everyone was so nice, so accepting. For a time, she’d wondered if they would be so friendly if they knew who she really was. A handful of drinks fixed that right up. Now she didn’t have a care in the world. Nope. Everything she needed she had right in front of her.
“You have nice eyes,” she said, staring up at Tucker, who wasn’t even winded, which she also loved. It made her feel small, like a tiny China doll, all fragile and pretty and most importantly, lightweight.
“Thank you, sugar. I like your eyes too.”
“And your smile. I like that a lot too. Oh, there it is!” she shouted, grabbing his cheeks between her fingers and smooshing them together until the smile turned into a fish face. “You have such nice lips. They’re not even chapped. What kind of lip balm do you use?”
Gently extricating his face from her grip, Tucker continued smiling as he said, “You, sugar, are drunk as a skunk. Which is a cryin’ shame, because I had plans for you tonight.”
“Plans? What kind of plans?” She gave him her sultry stare. “Naughty plans? Because I like being naughty, especially with you. You’re a naughty boy,” she cooed, walking her fingers between his flexing pecs to the hollow of his neck then lightly tracing his collarbone.
“It’s practically my middle name. Hey, Blake, hold the door!” he shouted in her ear.
Talia closed her eyes, brows reaching her hairline. Opening her mouth, she plugged her ear with her finger and gave it a wiggle. “Holy cow, tone it down would ya? That’s my ear you’re yelling into.”
“Sorry, sugar. But fyi, it was the other ear.”
With a sheepish smile, she realized that she was rubbing the wrong one.
Assuming it wasn’t just in her imagination, Tucker’s gaze warmed and he held her a little closer as they entered the clubhouse walls.
The giant man with the dark facial hair and eyes full of sin followed in behind them, his gaze fixed on her. Probably because she was staring like a love-struck buffoon.
“You’re beautiful,” she breathed.
A smirk filled out his face, creating tiny wrinkles around his eyes.
“Again, thank you,” Tucker responded.
“Not you, cowpoke. She was talking to me,” Blake corrected him.
Tucker whirled around, making Talia’s world spin with him. “Weee!”
“You hittin’ on my lady?”
“Not on your life. Then again, you don’t have a lady, so that goes double.”
Tucker stiffened against her, and a muscle in his jaw pulsed. Talia watched the standoff like it was a live taping of the Jerry Springer Show. Where was the popcorn when you needed it?
“You know what I meant.”
“Hmm, do I? Because I don’t think I do. You might have to spell it out for me.”
Talia’s new best friend, Gabby, appeared at Blake’s side, placing a hand on his arm. “Everything okay here, honey?”
“Just peachy, teach. Tucker was just telling me all about his lady here. Talia, right? Have you two met?”
A knowing look lit her eyes as Gabby appraised Tucker and Talia and how closely he was holding her to his chest as if he was afraid someone might steal her away at any moment. “We got acquainted earlier, no thanks to either of you,” she admonished the men. “Country, where have you been hiding this gem? I just love her. You two definitely need to come by sometime for dinner and hang out. Lord knows we don’t get out too often anymore, what with work and Ash and trying for another baby.”
“Dude, I thought you said—”
“And that’s our cue!” Blake slapped his hands together, his eyes wide and frantic. Wrapping his arm around Gabby, he said, “Goodnight, you two. Have fun. And don’t forget to take a bucket, Tuck. I have a feeling that one’s gonna need it later.”
Talia scowled. She didn’t feel the least bit sick. Men. Never trusted a woman to know how to hold her liquor.
“Bye, guys,” Gabby waved.
Talia grinned and waved back. What a sweet woman. “We are so going to hang out. She’s amazing. Your friends are amazing.” She caught Tucker’s eye and her insides instantly turned to mush. “You are amazing.”
His answering smile said it all. Leaning in for another kiss, she grasped the back of his neck and leveraged herself closer…and that’s when the night went straight to hell.
FOURTEEN
Almost everyone had a bucket list, things they’d never done but wanted to do before they died. Well, Tucker could officially say that he had never wanted to have someone throw up in his mouth. That didn’t stop it from happening, though.
He should have cut Talia off four drinks ago, but she’d insisted that she could hold her shit, which she had not. He now wore the proof of that all over his chin and leathers.
It took literally everything he had in him not to dump her onto the floor and run screaming for a bathroom. Instead, he’d stood stock still, stunned by what had happened for as long as it took one of his brothers to come to the rescue while several more stood off—way off—to the side in complete hysterics.
Their sensitivity knew no bounds.
Bunch of assholes.
Thank God for Taco, though. He’d always come through in a pinch, and tonight was no different. While Tucker stood in front of his bathroom sink, his hips wrapped in a towel, and scrubbed his mouth out with toothpaste, gagging at the mere thought of the trial he’d just been through, Taco pushed Talia into a hot shower and began washing the chunks of partially digested food down the
drain.
“Dude, seriously, you should have kept a better eye on her. She’s a total mess. Hold onto my hand, sweetheart, so you don’t fall.”
Tucker shot daggers at his reflection in the mirror. Spitting a gob of toothpaste into the sink, he said, “Fuck you, Taco. I was watching her. It’s not my fault she doesn’t know her own limits.”
“No, it’s not, but she’s with you; therefore, it’s your responsibility to see to it that she’s taken care of.”
“I’m not her old man.”
“Maybe not, but you’re something,” Taco muttered.
Tucker turned and stared holes through his brother’s back. “Care to say that to my face?”
Taco ignored him completely and focused on washing Talia. “These clothes need to come off,” he said, although Tucker couldn’t tell if he was addressing him or just speaking in general. But there was one thing he was certain on.
“No way are you sticking around for that. I’ll take it from here.” He pushed into Taco’s space and reached inside the stall to take hold of Talia’s arm. She looked miserable, her eyes closed, her hair a wet mop obscuring most of her face, and her body a heavy weight. She looked as if she might keel over any moment.
“Oh, sure, let me do the dirty work then slide in and play the hero right when it’s about to get good. I see how it is.”
Any other person and Tucker would have bristled. But this was Taco they were talking about. The guy didn’t know how to be offensive, even when he was clearly trying.
Or maybe it was just that Tucker didn’t view him as a threat. Whatever. It didn’t matter.
What did matter was that his friend was not going to see Talia naked. That right was reserved specifically for him.
And he wasn’t about to start analyzing why he suddenly felt the need to shield her from other men when he clearly didn’t give a shit with any other woman before her.
Uncaring if Taco saw him naked, Tucker dropped the towel and stepped inside with her, ignoring the shout of dismay from his brother. “Dude! Warn a guy before you drop trou!”
“Don’t know why you’re complaining,” Tucker said as he whisked the curtain closed. “You know my ass is the best you’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“Dude, Stephanie was in my bed last night.”
“Exactly.”
“Fuck you, bro,” he said with a laugh. “I’m outta here. You cool then?”
“Cool, man. Catch you later.”
Taco muttered another insult that Tucker didn’t quite catch as he left.
“Hey, make sure you lock the door on your way out!” The last thing he needed was someone walking in unexpected and uninvited. He’d seen Bambi wandering the grounds tonight, her eye never quite leaving him. He wouldn’t put it past her to pull some shady shit, and he’d already had a hell of a night. No need to compound it.
Talia swayed a little, and Tucker banded an arm around her waist. Brushing the wet hair from her face, he tilted her head back to get a better look. Her eyes cracked open, lids heavy. “How you doin’, sugar?”
“Better, I think.”
“You’re not going to throw up on me again, are ya?”
Her head shook side to side. She groaned. “God, I feel like crap.”
He felt bad for her, he truly did. More than once he’d experienced the effects of losing control. It wasn’t fun, which was why he’d learned to limit himself. Never again did he want to feel the rotation of the earth beneath his feet or have his head shatter at the sound of a pin drop. It just wasn’t worth it.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”
She nodded, then groaned again. “Can you please tell the room to stop spinning.”
“Afraid it’s not the room that’s moving, sugar. Lift your arms for me.” As he struggled to help her out of her sopping wet clothes, Tucker couldn’t ignore the feeling stirring inside of him. He’d never so much as had a girlfriend before, hoping to avoid things like this where he was cast as the protector and caregiver. Now here he was, doing all those things.
He thought he’d hate it, but for some reason, taking care of Talia, washing her hair and body, taking his time drying her off, then shuttling her off to his bed and tucking her in beside him felt good. It felt right.
It was something that should have sent him running. He could have called a cab and sent her on her way. He could have pawned her off on one of the bunnies; Ginger definitely would have seen to it she was taken care of. He could have done a number of things, all of them absolving him of any responsibility so he could go on with his night.
But for some reason, he did feel responsible for her. Just the idea of sending her away for someone else to watch over pricked at his insides, making the predator in him rise up and take point. Even now, all alone in his room, he wanted to pull out his gun and dare someone to try and come through that door. The slab of wood didn’t feel like enough separation from them and everyone else. No one should see her in this state—naked and vulnerable.
And for some reason, she was trusting him to take care of her, to watch over her, to protect her. He couldn’t recall a time when anything had felt better. Not even when he’d been accepted into Spec Ops. Not even when he took down a bunker full of bad guys plotting an untold number of crimes that would have resulted in hundreds if not thousands of lives lost.
Somehow, lying there with Talia, holding her in his arms, felt infinitely more important. So that’s exactly what he did.
***
It wasn’t the first time Tucker had spent the night with the woman. Probably wouldn’t be his last, either. But he certainly had never spent any of those nights holding anyone’s hair as they retched over his toilet, and he definitely had never rubbed anyone’s back and tried to soothe them in any way. This was all new territory for him.
He was surprised when he found that it wasn’t exactly the worst night of his life. In fact, he was proud of himself. He hadn’t complained once, hadn’t even wanted to. It just felt like he was in the right place, as if he was meant to be there with Talia, caring for her in her time of need.
And how fucking strange was that? He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d just wanted to hold someone and make them feel better. Sure, he took care of people before, but they’d all been men from either of his teams—the Ops and the Spartans. Something about it being a woman, this time, struck him as profound.
He wasn’t sure why, but there it was.
Talia had risen twenty minutes ago and, with a sheepish look, excused herself to take a shower. She needed it. Badly. Knowing that she was in the shower, naked as the day she was born, he was surprised to admit that he wasn’t even the least bit turned on. Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true, because Talia’s tits were phenomenal. Almost as nice as her round, juicy ass, but she was in no state to be plundered, so he was backing off, keeping his inner tiger on a leash.
There would be time to dish out some good hard lovin’, but not before he got some food into her and made sure she couldn’t be knocked over by a strong wind first.
Finding a pair of sweats, Tucker pulled them on and left the room in search of sustenance. After the night they’d both had, something hearty was in order.
“Hey, momma,” he greeted when he caught sight of Ginger coming out of the kitchen.
“Hey, sweetie. What are you doing up so early?”
“Never really went to sleep.” He scratched fingernails through mussed hair. Noting what she was wearing, or not wearing, as it was, he quirked a sandy brow. “What are you doing up so early?”
She had on a silky pink babydoll camisole that barely reached the top of her thighs and nothing else. Her hair, much like his, was in disarray, and she had a certain look in her eyes that every woman who’d braved his bed left with.
Her cheeks didn’t pink up like Talia’s would have when she replied in kind. “Never really went to sleep either.”
Tucker grinned. He didn’t have to ask, but it did make him wonder who was behind that
smile. His gaze strayed to the hall behind him.
Ginger cleared her throat. “Are you heading into the kitchen?”
Snapping out of his musings, Tucker turned back to face her. “Yep. Talia’s going to need some food soon. Pretty sure she left it all in my bathroom last night.”
“Had too much to drink last night, eh?”
“As if you don’t already know. I thought bartenders were supposed to cut people off when they’ve had too much.”
“Hey, I’m nobody’s mother. It’s not my job to police everyone who walks through that door.”
Tucker held up his hands in surrender. “Didn’t meant any offense.”
“Just runnin’ that big mouth again,” she replied with a scowl.
Sensing that he was on a precipice, Tucker decided to back away from the edge. “Any prospects up?” He pointed to the kitchen.
“Prospects?” She chuffed, as if the very idea was absurd. And yeah, after a party like last night, she was probably right. Most of the club would be down for the day. He’d be lucky to see a single one of them before dinnertime. “A couple of the girls came in early to help with the cleanup and start breakfast. If you ask real nice, I’m sure they’ll whip you up something tasty. And by tasty,” she said, her tone suggestive, “I don’t mean food.”
“Then I’d better not keep them waiting.” He winked, then started walking. “Tell Repo I said congratulations.”
“Nice try, but I don’t kiss and tell,” Ginger called back as she walked away.
“Had to give it a shot,” he returned. It really did nag at him to know, without a doubt, that Repo was the man behind that satisfied look she wore, but it wasn’t any of his business. Shaking his head, Tucker slapped a hand against the partitioned door and proceeded inside.
Mettle: (Spartan Riders #2) Page 10
