The Feisty One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance Page 8

  Maryn repositioned herself in her seat. It was hard to not be able to relax fully against the cushions.

  “Are you sure you’re doing okay?” Tuck was next to her chair in a second.

  “I’m good,” she reassured him. “The story is taking my focus off of my back. Is that why you don’t like attention now?”

  He nodded and settled back into his seat, looking pleased that she seemed to understand. “When you’re a kid that basically hides in the background, it’s weird to have all these people suddenly care what you’re wearing, who you’re talking to, what you’re saying. Just because I came up with an idea and I have lots money.”

  “Our society is messed.”

  Looking at his clasped hands, he exhaled slowly then muttered, “Inside, I still feel like that little boy sometimes.”

  Mayrn loved that he told her that. “Well, you’ve grown into yourself nicely.”

  Tucker chuckled, met her gaze, and licked his lips. “Thank you.”

  She cleared her throat, embarrassed that she couldn’t help but compliment him, but he was miles from that chubby kid who hid with his computer. “So after you graduated high school?”

  “I got a scholarship to go to college, but I found out I could have even more benefits if I joined the Army. I really liked the idea of being active, of someone whipping me into shape. I went to the University of Idaho, up in Moscow, and that’s when I met Johnson. We were trained as snipers together and ended up being roommates. He was social and fun and everyone just loved him. I always claimed it was the dimples.”

  “It’s hard to not like those dimples.”

  Tuck arched an eyebrow at her. She rushed to say, “Not that I would want a man with dimples they just… make him more approachable.”

  Tucker’s eyes laughed at her, but luckily he was too much of a gentleman to question her about what she would want in a man. “They do. I designed Friend Zone hanging out at our apartment and listening in while all of Johnson’s friends used social media and praised or complained about different aspects of every site.”

  “Some people say you were the ultimate copycat.”

  “Oh, for sure. I took bits and pieces from every site and some ideas of my own and made it work. Johnson and his friends tested it for me for a year then I got deployed. Johnson made it to Afghanistan about six weeks after me. About a year later, we were in the middle of staking out a cave in the middle of the desert where many Al Qaeda leaders were supposed to be hiding. He turns to me and says, ‘Hey, I forgot to tell you, that site you designed, we did a huge shout out for it and I think you’re pretty wealthy now.’”

  Tucker shook his head. “Biggest shock of my life when I found out his shout out got me a million subscribers within a few days and then the thing went viral and it’s had huge success ever since. I can’t believe Johnson waited that long to tell me, but he said he was waiting for a moment when I really needed it.”

  He passed a hand over his chin. “Johnson gave Shane, one of his buddies, access to everything on the back end. He was our customer service and troubleshooter for the eighteen months we were deployed. Shane fixed so many problems. Dropped out of school because he was working so hard. We paid him ten million dollars and he’s never complained. Shane got a degree in Phys. Ed, married, and has three boys. He coaches a bunch of little league baseball teams to give his wife a little bit of space. It’s weird to be semi-retired at twenty-five.”

  Maryn’s eyes widened. “Wow. I am eating this up! So, you’re out sweating in the sand watching this cave for terrorists and Johnson drops that on you. What happened then?”

  His mouth turned down. “We were hiding in a cave ourselves. We waited for days. It was miserable and hot and we were going out of our heads.” He paused and studied his hands. “Our orders were to shoot every person that came out of the opening.”

  Her heart constricted in her chest. The pictures she’d seen. “Did you?” she whispered through a very dry throat.

  Tuck dropped his head. “Yes.” After several long seconds, he glanced back up at her. “I’m a monster, Maryn. I didn’t want you to know.”

  Maryn shook her head. “I can’t imagine how hard it was for you.”

  “It was dark when they came out. Looking through the night vision goggles distorts things and they were all armed. It’s no excuse.” He studied her for a second as if gauging her reaction. “I was so ready to finally be fulfilling the assignment, I didn’t pay attention to who or what I was shooting.” He ran his hands through his long hair. “It’s what we were trained for.”

  “What happened when you realized it?” She felt so guilty asking more of him, but it seemed like he needed to get it out.

  “Johnson and I both saw therapists. They discharged us early because of mental instability. It was tough.”

  “How did you get the pictures?”

  He cleared his throat. “Computer geek, remember?” He gave a self-deprecating shake of his head. “I knew the Army was scoping out that cave. I cracked into the satellite imaging and went back over the two weeks before our hit. We did end up taking out a bunch of Al Qaeda leaders, but I found and printed off the pictures of the children. There were seven...” He trailed off.

  Maryn swallowed and whispered, “You did that to yourself?”

  He nodded, pressing his lips together.

  “Oh, Tucker, I wish I could help.”

  He met her gaze. His eyes so full of sadness, regret, and self-recrimination. “Are you offering?”

  Maryn smiled to try to lighten the mood. “I’m no professional, but I do know how to pray pretty good.”

  Tucker arched an eyebrow. “The Lord doesn’t want to hear from me.”

  “You’re wrong. He wants you more than you understand.”

  Mama Porter bustled through the door supporting a tray overflowing with yummy smells. Tucker seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. He jumped up to help Mama and then served Maryn the tantalizing boneless spare ribs, red potatoes, broccoli, and homemade rolls.

  “Thank you,” Maryn called to Mama as she hurried away again. “I hope she doesn’t spoil you like this all the time.”

  Tucker shook his head. “Only when we have a guest.” He cracked a smile. “And we never have guests.”

  “Well, I feel privileged.” Yet she didn’t feel like a guest. She felt like part of a family, something she’d only dreamt of. She tried to cut some meat. Tucker stood and cut everything up for her. “I feel like a little child,” she complained.

  “You don’t like anyone taking care of you, do you?”

  Maryn bit at her lip. “Never really had anyone taking care of me, well, besides Alyssa.”

  “You mentioned her before. Tell me about Alyssa.” Tucker sat down and tore a bite off the roll.

  “We’ve been best friends our whole lives. Kept each other alive through college and starting careers. She’s a sweetie and an amazing photographer. You have one of her pictures in your room. The one of the old man and little girl.”

  “She’s A.A.?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s crazy. I have some more of her work in my Laguna Beach house. I like the way she captures people.”

  Maryn nodded. The bite of ribs melted in her mouth. “She’s super talented, but she got married this past summer so I’m a loner again.”

  “The men in L. A. must be idiots if you’re a loner.”

  Maryn smiled. She wasn’t a loner because she couldn’t get dates, but because she really didn’t have the deep, lasting relationships she dreamed of. James and Alyssa had always been there for her, but the rest of her friends were more fun or convenience. James was probably worried sick. She hadn’t called him yesterday. “Did you get a hold of James?”

  Tucker’s eyes darkened. “James, the boyfriend?”

  “No, James my publisher.” And semi-boyfriend, but she didn’t want to get into that again.

  “Yeah, Johnson said he got a message through and they were concerned for you and wanted him
to keep them up to date. I’ll make sure he calls again tonight.”

  “Thank you.” James’ blue eyes and blonde hair were getting a bit fuzzy as she stared at the dark-haired man before her. Alyssa’s Granny Ellie would say Tucker was, “Lots of man.” She smiled to herself. She missed Granny Ellie, who had passed away last spring. Alyssa and her husband, Beckham, were in Honduras for a few more weeks so they wouldn’t notice if Maryn didn’t respond to an email or text for a couple of days. How was she going to find all her contacts with her cell phone missing?

  “What’s the frown for?” Tucker asked, taking a drink of water.

  “Just thinking about what a pain it’s going to be losing my cell phone. Without the SIM card I won’t have any of my contacts.”

  “If we can’t find the phone, you can at least look at your cell phone bill and it will give you the numbers you’ve called.”

  “Oh, good idea.” Maryn ate a piece of potato, loving the buttery flavor and perfect texture. “Mama Porter is amazing. Can I take her home with me?”

  Tuck shrugged. “Can we all come?” He studied her as if gauging her answer. Her heart rate picked up and she wished with everything in her that she could take him home.

  “Sure, but my apartment is just a bit smaller than this place.” She held up her first finger and thumb about an inch apart.

  Tuck laughed.

  “So back to the story.” Her back and head were starting to ache. Maryn knew she had a few more bites of dinner and a few more minutes of learning about Tuck before she’d have to beg for more pain pills and a ride in Tuck’s arms back up to bed. At least the ride would be pleasant.

  “I thought we finished the story,” Tuck muttered.

  “Not when you obviously haven’t forgiven yourself.”

  Tuck set his fork down. “You know there are two types of men who want to be in the armed forces?”

  “No. Explain.”

  “There are those who want to be the hero, save the little old lady and the children, right the wrongs of the world, and there are those who want to kill the bad guy.”

  She bit at her lip. “You were the hero?”

  “I thought so. The psychiatrist explained that was why this was all so hard on me and Johnson. We thought we were protecting the innocents, not murdering them.” His mouth drew into a thin line.

  “You could claim that those innocents could grow up to be terrorists.”

  “You could.” His dark eyes were full of misery. “Would you believe that if you pulled that trigger?”

  “Probably not.” Maryn felt her strength leaving her. She wanted to reassure Tuck and help him, but she had nothing left.

  “I didn’t either.”

  “Only the Lord can help you forgive yourself.”

  Tuck’s eyebrows arched. “I didn’t figure you for a believer.”

  “Of course I’m a believer. If I wasn’t I’d be hamburger in that bear’s paws.”

  “You kind of were hamburger.”

  She pushed a hand at him, but it tugged at her stitches and she cried out.

  “You need to get back into bed.” Tucker pushed away from the table.

  “We can’t leave all this food. Mama Porter would feel so bad.”

  “I’ll come back for it. Could you eat some more if I get you upstairs and settled in the bed?”

  “Maybe.”

  Tucker lifted Maryn into his arms and scaled the stairs. Warm tingles spread through her as she lay against his chest. He waited for her while she used the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and washed her face. Then he helped her take another pain pill and get settled comfortably in the bed.

  “Where are you going to sleep?” Maryn asked groggily.

  “Maybe I’ll climb in there with you.” His smile said he wouldn’t.

  “There’s plenty of room.” She shouldn’t have said that.

  Tuck sat down in the chair he’d pulled close to the bedside and leaned forward. His face was close to hers. “Don’t worry about me. I can sleep anywhere.”

  “Good talent to have.” She stared into his brown eyes, finding herself lost in them. It wasn’t even dark outside and yet she was sure she could sleep for hours. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

  “You’re easy to take care of.”

  She laughed weakly and her eyes drifted closed of their own volition. “I know that’s a lie.”

  “It’s not.” She heard the leather of the recliner squeak as he leaned forward and then she felt his lips brush over hers.

  Maryn’s eyes popped back open. The contact had been brief, but she could still feel the impression of his lips on hers and wished she could sit up and kiss him again. “I liked that,” she murmured. “A good night kiss is part of your taking care of the guest package?”

  “If you weren’t in pain and on drugs I’d give you a real goodnight kiss.”

  Maryn wished she could concentrate, but that OxyContin was hitting her hard. “I have something exhilarating to look forward to tomorrow night then.”

  Tucker’s slow grin was the last thing she remembered as she dozed off.

  Tucker hid in a cave. Sweat dripped down his face despite the fact it was much cooler in the darkened interior than outside with over a hundred degree temperatures and that blasted sun that would never stop. He was alone, but it made no sense to him. He was never alone. Johnson or one of their other troop members was always by his side.

  Johnson walked into the entrance of the cave, barely enough light to see his dimples. He grinned at Tucker. “Hiding out like a wussy boy, eh?”

  The ground rocked and the blast of light nearly blinded Tucker. He yelled a warning to Johnson, but as his friend’s body was thrown next to him on the rocky ground, he knew it was too late.

  Tuck jerked awake, panting and sweating. He looked slowly around the dark room. Snow still fell gently outside, but there was an almost ethereal light to the scene. Maryn slept soundly in the bed. She’d rolled onto her back and he wondered if he should move her, but it didn’t seem to be hurting her. Braxton kept reassuring him that the cuts weren’t that deep and Maryn would heal quickly. He hoped so.

  Standing and shaking out his arms, he tried to shake off the dream. He had them often, and usually Johnson was killed in them. He didn’t know what that meant and hoped if he and his friend were ever in danger again, Tucker could protect him. He’d actually saved Johnson’s life in a scrimmage in Afghanistan, so maybe the dreams were just aftereffects of that.

  Rolling his neck, he knew he needed to lie down and get a decent night’s sleep. He went into his bathroom, brushed his teeth, and put on a clean t-shirt and some sweats. Walking past his bed, he told himself to go down to one of the guest bedrooms, but he didn’t want to leave Maryn. He loved being around her and if she should awaken and be scared or need something, he wanted to be here.

  He circled the bed and lay down on top of the covers. It felt so good to stretch out his back. Glancing over at the beautiful woman sleeping next to him, Tucker gently placed his hand over hers. He smiled to himself. He could get used to sleeping like this.

  Maryn’s sleep was weird. Dreams about Tuck and James fighting over her. In the background there was this scary bald dude who was following her and James. Sometimes the bear would appear and Max would be snarling and jumping at the grizzly then she’d see Tuck again like he was that night—so strong and majestic with the gun in his hands. She awakened and realized she’d rolled onto her back. “Ouch,” she whispered.

  “Maryn?” Tucker was not in his spot in the chair, he was in the bed right next to her. Oh, my. This could be interesting.

  “Hey,” she groaned. She didn’t want to roll away from him so she sat up, grateful the motion didn’t hurt too much. “Did I wake you?”

  “No.” Tucker sat up next to her. “I just laid down to… stretch my back out.”

  “You should be able to sleep in your own bed. I’ll go down to one of the other rooms. You didn’t get any sleep last night because of me
and now you’re hurting your back. Man, I’m an insensitive jerk.”

  Tucker smiled at her in the dimly lit room. Maryn’s breath caught. He was a beautiful man and that rugged edge with the longish hair and huge body really did it for her. She glanced around. This was really intimate. She didn’t know him that well and she’d definitely overstayed her welcome in his bed. She should go.

  “I was too worried to sleep last night and I didn’t want to leave you tonight in case you needed something. Do you need medicine or a drink or food? You hardly ate anything.”

  “I’m feeling okay,” Maryn said. “Besides, what are you doing sounding like me, talking too much and too fast?”

  He laughed. “I guess I feel a little awkward that I laid down by you. Would your boyfriend mind?”

  Maryn scowled, wishing she hadn’t said anything about that earlier. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she said too forcefully. “He thinks he is, but honestly I’m not committed to anyone.” Silence fell for a little while and it felt stifling. “I’m sorry I’ve taken over your bed. I’ll get out of here.”

  “No, please. I…” he cleared his throat. “Want you close.”

  Her breath caught at the honesty of his admission. She wanted him close too. For some reason, she knew she could sleep soundly with him there, and maybe the nightmares would disappear. “I need to stay on my right side. Would you mind, holding me there?” She swallowed, that had been really forward, even for her.

  Tucker regarded her solemnly. “It would be a pleasure, Ms. Howe.”

  She smiled and laid down on her right side. He placed a pillow behind her backside. Resting her bum against it, she felt much more relaxed and grateful that he was going to keep some distance between them. Then he scooted up behind her. Tingles spread over her skin even though his body wasn’t touching hers. It was close enough to feel the heat from it. He placed his hand gently on her hip to avoid the stitches. She reclined her upper body and her uninjured shoulder rested against his chest.

  “Ah,” she said. “This is comfy.” It was so much more than comfy. She had no clue if she’d be able to sleep with all the nerves firing in her body like this. If she wasn’t injured and was feeling a little more brave, she would’ve rolled over and kissed him.