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Thunder Rolls: Episode 8 (Rising Storm)

Page 5

by Dee Davis


  How in hell had she let this happen?

  “You need to leave,” Tucker growled at his brother, the two of them circling like angry cats. “Now.”

  “Like hell. You’re the one who doesn’t belong.”

  “I beg to differ.” Tucker waved at the rumpled bed behind him.

  Hannah bristled despite the situation. They were talking as if she wasn’t there.

  “In case you’ve both forgotten, this is my house. And it’s my choice who belongs here.” She drew herself up, at the same time reaching for Tucker’s T-shirt, which was the closest of all their discarded clothing.

  For a moment, they turned to look at her as she slipped into the T-shirt, and then Tate launched himself at Tucker, his fist connecting soundly with his brother’s jaw.

  “She’s mine, you bastard,” Tate snarled. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  “That I wanted her and that she wanted me.” Tucker countered with a blow to Tate’s gut.

  “You always want everything I have.” Tate shoved his brother back against the wall, knocking the lamp from the dresser. They didn’t even seem to notice.

  “This has nothing to do with you.” Tucker pushed back against his brother’s shoulders. “And everything to do with Hannah.”

  “But I’m your brother.” This brought a new round of scuffling, both men exchanging blows.

  The dogs, alerted by the fighting, had rushed into the room, barking for everything they were worth. Digger and Fred, God bless them, came to a protective halt between the two men and Hannah, who was now standing next to the bed wearing Tucker’s thankfully overly large T-shirt.

  Pooh was yapping at both men’s feet as if he thought he might be able to aid one of them somehow, although the jury was out as to whose side he was actually on. If the whole thing hadn’t been so incredibly serious, Hannah would have laughed. But then she’d probably cry and that wasn’t going to help anything.

  She’d never been the kind of woman to have men fight over her. And in all honesty, she’d rather not have them fighting now. But she’d brought it on herself. She’d let her attraction to Tucker override what she felt for Tate. And the awful truth was, she didn’t regret it one bit. Not even now, when the two of them were tearing each other apart.

  Tucker had Tate against the wall now, his big hands resting on his brother’s shoulders. “I didn’t set out to hurt you. But this thing between Hannah and I has been a long time coming.”

  “Well, maybe the two of you should have let me in on the secret.” Tate’s face was flushed with anger.

  “There’s no secret,” Hannah said, her voice coming out on a raspy whisper. “Nothing happened.” She looked down at herself in Tucker’s shirt. “Until tonight. He found Fred and I…”

  “Wanted to show him how grateful you were?” Tate pushed away from his brother. “I didn’t think you were that big of a whore.”

  Tucker spun around, eyes blazing. “You don’t mean that. Tell her you don’t mean that.”

  Hannah had never seen him so angry and her gut lurched at the thought that all of this was her fault. “Stop. Both of you. This isn’t helping anything.”

  Tucker stood his ground, all three dogs grouped around his feet, barking at Tate.

  “I guess they’ve chosen whose side they’re on,” Tate said, his face full of disgust. “And I was beginning to think I was actually falling in love with you.”

  Hannah winced, but squared her shoulders. “If our relationship had been meant to be, you wouldn’t have been thinking about it, Tate. You would have known.”

  “Yeah, well, now I don’t have to think about it at all. Do I?” He eyed her a moment more and then, shaking his head, he turned to his brother. “And just so you know, brother, she isn’t worth it.”

  Tucker’s hands flexed, but he didn’t move. Didn’t say a word.

  Tate shifted his gaze back to Hannah, moving slowly from her feet to the top of her head, his smile derisive. “And believe me, I should know.”

  Hannah took a staggering step backward, feeling as if he’d physically struck her.

  “Get the hell out of here, Tate,” Tucker said, taking a menacing step toward his brother.

  “No worries.” Tate held up his hands in mock defense. “I’m going. The two of you deserve each other.”

  Silence filled the room. Even the three dogs had gone quiet, looking between Hannah and Tucker as if waiting for direction. Molly and Engine peered around the edge of the door. Astaire no doubt was watching the whole proceedings from somewhere on high.

  “Menagerie to the rescue,” Tucker said, closing the distance between them. “Are you okay?”

  “I…I…honest to God, I don’t know. On the one hand, I feel terrible. I mean, I just screwed your brother over royally and fucked up your relationship with him big time.”

  “Apropos choice of words.” He stroked her cheek. “And on the other hand?”

  She sucked in a shuddering breath. “On the other hand, I’ve never felt the way you made me feel tonight. So alive. So…”

  “Amazing?” His smile was colored with regret.

  “Yeah. That.”

  “So what do you want me to do?”

  “Stay forever?” She covered his hand with hers, his fingers warm against her cheek. “Honestly, Tucker, I don’t know where we go from here. You need to deal with your brother. Family is everything. And yours isn’t like mine. It’s practically perfect. Or it was.”

  “Family is important. But what’s happening between us is important, too. Are you sure you don’t want to try to make things right with my brother?”

  “Of course I want to make things right.”

  His face hardened and he tried to pull his hand away, but she held fast.

  “I want to apologize for not seeing the truth sooner. For leading him on. I want to make him understand how big what I feel for you is. But I don’t want to go back to the way things were. I want this. I want you.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She nodded, her heart threatening to break out of her chest. What if he didn’t want her? What if this was just a one-off for him? “And you?”

  His grin was crooked, his eyes so full of emotion her knees turned to jelly. “I’ve wanted you so long, Hannah, that your fucking name is engraved in my heart. And now that we’ve found this… I’m not walking away. Not even for Tate.”

  “Then you need to go to him. To try and make him understand. We can’t start out together if we don’t at least try. He may never want anything to do with me again, and I can live with that. But you’re his brother, Tucker.”

  He held her gaze for a moment longer, then gave a single nod. She reached up and stripped off his shirt. And before she could pull on her own, he pulled her into his arms, his lips hard and demanding. A promise of things to come.

  “I’ll be back,” he whispered as he released her.

  “I know.” She shot him a tremulous smile. “Now go.”

  * * * *

  “So can you feel the baby yet?” Logan Murphy asked as they sat in a corner booth at his father’s pub.

  It was an oddly intimate question. Although Celeste Salt asked Ginny the same almost daily. And Ginny had been weirdly reluctant to share something so wonderfully private with the woman, even if she was Little Bit’s grandmother.

  But this was Logan and because he looked simultaneously fascinated and repulsed—not to mention completely adorable—she decided to share. “I haven’t felt any kicking or anything. But sometimes I can feel a fluttering. Like teeny, tiny little wings moving inside me.” She automatically covered her expanding tummy with her hand. “I actually haven’t told anyone. Like if I say it out loud, it’ll jinx things or something. Is that weird?”

  “Not at all,” Logan said, reaching across the table to cover her hand with his. “I think it’s cool. The miracle of life and all that. Pretty damn amazing. And in light of everything I’ve seen, probably pretty damn wonderful.”

  “Still, it�
�s got to be weird for you, dating someone who’s pregnant.” The words just sort of came out, and Ginny immediately wanted to pull them back. Their relationship was so new. And yet here they were talking about flutters and kicks and babies. Everything completely backasswards, as her dad used to say.

  Her eyes pricked with tears. Even after all this time, she still had moments when she missed her parents so fiercely. And now, with hormones raging, it seemed like she missed them even more than usual. What she wouldn’t give to have her mother here with her. Not that Celeste and Marisol weren’t trying. It just wasn’t the same.

  “Hey, you know I’m okay with all of it. Little Bit is part of you. It’s a package deal. And I’m not one to back down from a challenge.”

  “But that’s not all I am, right?” Ginny hated how needy she sounded. She’d always prided herself on her independence, but with the affair, the accident, the pregnancy, and Jacob’s death, nothing seemed certain anymore. As if she’d fallen down Alice’s rabbit hole and was surrounded by time-keeping rabbits and hookah-smoking caterpillars.

  “Of course not. You know better than that. You’re one of the bravest, most caring, most honest people I’ve ever met. You’re amazing.”

  Ginny swallowed as guilt reared its ugly head. She was none of those things. But there was no way to admit to any of it now. She just had to pray that the baby was Jacob’s. And if it wasn’t, pray that no one else ever knew. The die had been cast and nothing good would come from confessing to any doubt. At least not now.

  “You’re the amazing one,” she said, lifting her gaze to his. “I mean, after everything you’ve been through, you deserve something more than the chaos that’s my life. And if I’m strong at all, it’s only because you’re here to help me cope.”

  “And the two of you sound like a Hallmark commercial.” Patrick Murphy stopped beside the table with a smirk on his face.

  “You’re just pissed that I’m going to be a father before you are.” The remark was clearly meant to be a jibe, but all three of them froze for a moment. Logan and Ginny hadn’t talked at all about what came next, both of them convinced that it was easier to take it day by day. They hadn’t even slept together, for goodness sake. Although that wasn’t for lack of desire.

  It was just that between the Salts and the Murphys, there wasn’t exactly a lot of opportunity for alone time.

  Case in point.

  “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” Logan looked chagrined. “I mean, well I did, but I didn’t.” He looked to Ginny in apology. “Hell, I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

  “That you put your foot in it?” Patrick offered helpfully.

  “Shut it, bro,” Logan responded. “This is important.”

  “It was a slip of the tongue,” Ginny smoothed over, not certain how she felt about the idea. She really cared about Logan, but she was still grappling with losing Jacob—not to mention the whole nightmare of the senator. “A totally understandable one under the circumstances. Going out with me means a lot of baby talk. And I don’t mean that in a cutesy kissy way.” She grimaced. “I mean, really I’m lucky you haven’t already run screaming into the woods.”

  Patrick grinned at them both. “We Murphys are made of pretty stern stuff.” Logan glared at his brother.

  “Not that I meant… ah hell, I brought you another beer and Mom thought you might like a ginger ale, Ginny. Said it helped her keep her stomach calm.” He practically threw the glasses on the table and walked away again.

  “Well, at least now I know how to confound a Murphy. The males anyhow.”

  “Ginny, you know I didn’t say that because I’m trying to push you or anything. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind and I’d never want to make things more difficult than they already are.”

  “Logan, you’re the one thing in all of this that’s truly good. If I didn’t have you, then I don’t know what I’d do.”

  “You’d carry on. And you’d find a way to do what’s best for the baby. Like I said, pretty damn amazing.”

  Ginny ducked her head, her emotions rioting. Logan made her feel things she’d never felt before, not even with Jacob, and while the idea made her feel guilty, it also stirred up a whole host of other, more provocative reactions.

  “So, since we opened the whole ‘where the hell are we heading’ topic,” Logan said, his waggling his eyebrows as he gave her a crooked grin.

  “Oh, is that what we’re doing?” Ginny asked, her heart rate ratcheting up a notch.

  “Besides being embarrassed by my brother, yeah… that’s what we’re doing.” He reached out to squeeze her hands. “And I’ve been thinking that it might be good for our relationship if I had a place of my own. Somewhere we could go to be alone—if we both wanted to, that is.”

  He looked so adorably uncomfortable it was almost worth continuing to leave him hanging, but he was right about one thing: she did care—about him. “Oh we definitely want.”

  For a moment they just sat there, gazes locked. “So then you’ll help me find a place?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded, suddenly everything right with her world. “I’d love that.”

  He took a long sip of his beer and then lowered the glass, his expression serious again. “And when the time comes for you to have classes or whatever it is they’re called, I’d really like for you to consider letting me be there with you. I know that Marisol and Mrs. Salt probably have already asked you, but—”

  “Oh God, Logan, I’d love for you to do it. If you’re really sure you want to. I mean, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have there with me.”

  And, surprisingly, she was certain of the fact. Logan had come to mean so much to her in such a short amount of time. She wanted—no, she needed him there beside her. And the idea that he wanted that, too. Well, it was pure heaven.

  Now if only everything else played out the way it was supposed to. The baby just had to be Jacob’s. Because if it wasn’t—well, she couldn’t let herself go there. Because if the baby looked like the senator, then her whole world was going to fall apart again, and this time, Ginny wasn’t sure she’d be strong enough to put the pieces back together.

  CHAPTER 6

  “How could you have done something like that to me? I’m your brother, for God’s sake.” Tate stood on the rise overlooking the Double J, his anger apparent even in the predawn shadows.

  Behind him the sky was just starting to pinken, black, blue, and purple giving way to the inevitability of morning. One or two stars still glistened high in the sky, but the sound of birds and the lowing of cattle in the distance signaled the end of night.

  A hell of a long and emotional night.

  Tucker had spent the better part of that night looking for his brother. First Murphy’s. And then Tate’s office, his apartment, and finally the ranch. Of course he should have known from the beginning where his brother would be. Since he was able to saddle a horse, Tate had always come to this spot to lick his wounds.

  Tucker held up a hand in supplication. “It wasn’t about you, Tate. It was about me—and Hannah. You just got caught in the crossfire.”

  “But Hannah is mine.” His brother took a threatening step, then backed off, fists clenched.

  “Hannah isn’t anyone’s. She’s her own woman and she gets to make her own choices.”

  “Well, she wouldn’t have looked at you twice if you hadn’t come sniffing around with your quiet swagger and your damn cowboy ways.” Tate said the last as if it was a curse. But then his brother had never had much time for ranching.

  “If anyone has swagger it’s you,” Tucker scoffed. “You’ve always been first in everything. You’re smarter. You’re slicker. And you’re a hell of a lot more successful.”

  “Bullshit. Daddy worships the ground you walk on.”

  “Only because you refused to walk on it.” And there you had it. The core of their problems. Zeke Johnson. No question Zeke loved both his boys, but as far as Tucker was concerned it had always been about
Tate. Maybe because he was the oldest. Or maybe because he was more outgoing. But Zeke had anointed him as heir before he could even walk. Tucker had never been more than the spare. Until Tate finally made his stand. Handed Zeke the boots and spurs, so to speak, and gone off to law school.

  Tucker had been quick to step in. Happy that his brother had found his freedom and happy to take the empty reins. He’d always loved the ranch. But he also knew that he would always be second best as far as Zeke was concerned.

  But none of that had anything to do with Hannah. What he felt for her had been a part of him so long he couldn’t picture himself without it. And if she wanted him too… well then, it was his time to take what he wanted. Consequences be damned.

  “I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to talk to you.” Tate turned his back just as the sun broke over the distant hills.

  “Look, Tate, I’m sorry you had to see us like that. And I’m sure as hell sorry to have hurt you. But I’m not sorry I was with Hannah. I’ve had feelings for her as long as I can remember. Hell, I tried to push them aside. Pretend they didn’t exist. I even tried to be happy for the two of you. But when I realized that she might actually have feelings for me, I couldn’t step back. I had to know. Maybe I didn’t handle it as well as I could have, but I won’t apologize for being with Hannah.”

  “Goddamn you.” Tate rushed at Tucker, fire in his eyes as he swung, his fist connecting with Tucker’s lip. He felt the spurt of blood as he responded with a left cross, the satisfying crack of his knuckles against his brother’s head interrupted when their father’s voice broke through the growing cloud of anger and testosterone.

  “Cut it out. Both of you.” The six words acted as no other deterrent could and both men froze in place. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here? Don’t you think you’re a little old to be beating the shit out of each other?”

 

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