Authors: Mackenzie Crowne
If she hadn’t been a fan before, she was now. The theater began to clear, and she wore a happy smile as their group made their way backstage.
Tuck knocked on Jessi’s dressing room door, and they filed inside. Jessi looked over, grinned, and raced across the room to throw herself into Tuck’s arms. “You came!”
He laughed and kissed her cheek. “I told you I would.”
She dipped her head to the side to peek around his shoulder. “Who’d you bring with you?”
New England roots were evident in her soft voice, so different from the powerhouse pipes and larger-than-life personality she presented on stage. He loosened his arms, and she slid to her booted feet.
“A couple of friends.” He tossed an arm over her shoulders and turned. “CC Calhoun, meet my squirt cousin, Jessi Tucker.” He pinched a long, dark auburn curl between his fingers and tugged.
Jessi slapped his hand away, but her deep blue eyes twinkled with happiness. “A pleasure.”
“The pleasure’s mine. The show was incredible.”
Twin dimples dented the flawless skin of her piquant smile. “Oh, aren’t you good for the ego.”
“And this is Amy….” A wince twisted Tuck’s lips. “I’m sorry. Max didn’t mention your last name.”
“It’s Dunn.” The tall redhead smiled. “CC’s right. You and Spence put on quite a show.”
Jessi’s tinkling laugh was self-depreciating, and she dipped her head conspiratorially. “Spence was great, as usual. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m a complete weenie. I suffer from horrible stage fright.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
All eyes shot to Max. Typically, an easy smile rode his tough guy features.
Tuck bumped his chin in his friend’s direction. “Uncle Ryan would tear me a new one if he knew I was introducing you to thugs, but this one’s name is Max Grayson.”
Max bared his teeth in a feral smile. Tuck returned one of his own. Jessi flicked Tuck a disapproving scowl, then turned back to Max. CC followed her gaze, eyeing Max’s cropped hair and the dark curve of the tribal tattoo climbing out from beneath the collar of his dress shirt to twine around the back of his neck.
“Don’t be mean, Tuck.” Jessi’s wide-eyed gaze roamed over Max in a bold survey. “Why, I’m sure your friend is a big ol’ teddy bear.”
Tuck choked on a short laugh. “You got the bear part right.”
She waved him off with an airy swing of her hand and fluttered her lashes at Max. “Did I really?”
Confusion crinkled Max’s brow. “Did you what?”
“Fool you?” She grinned and cocked her head. “You don’t look like the kind of man who’d be easily duped.”
Tuck turned on her with an arched brow. “You know a lot about men, do you, little girl?”
Jessi blushed and dropped her gaze to the floor. CC stifled a groan. Men could be such idiots. Clearly he hadn’t noticed the fresh light of feminine interest in Jessi’s young eyes as she stared at Max. From the indulgent curve of her lips, Amy had.
Max rubbed a palm over the dark stubble shadowing his chin and bent his knees until he could catch Jessi’s gaze. “You’re right. Not much gets past me. That’s why I’m having a hard time buying the stage fright story.”
She jerked up straight, and the wounded look in her eyes squeezed CC’s heart. Obviously, pride was another family trait. Jessi poked out her chin at a stubborn angle, and the hurt gave way to a pointed glare.
Before she could blast him, he held up a hand. “Hold on. That wasn’t an accusation.” He shook his head, and his smile softened. “What I should have said is, anyone who can wow a crowd the way you just did has nothing to be afraid of.”
Tuck smirked. “Spoken like a true teddy bear.”
“Fuck you.” A grin stretched Max’s lips. “Didn’t you say something about a late dinner? I’m starving.”
“Max!” Amy’s censorious gaze darted to Jessi, then back.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Tuck squeezed his cousin’s shoulders. “The squirt grew up in the Tucker clan. She’s heard much worse.”
Jessi stared at Tuck’s friend without blinking, and her melting smile spoke volumes. A twinge of embarrassed guilt made CC bite her lip. Like an unseen voyeur, she watched in helpless fascination as the young starlet lost a little piece of her heart.
Dismay weighed heavily on CC’s shoulders as her gaze sliced to Tuck. She knew just how little Jessi Tucker felt.
Chapter 13
“CC? You’re awfully quiet. You okay in there?”
She chewed her lower lip and her forehead wrinkled as she peered over her shoulder into the trio of mirrors. Hell no, she wasn’t okay. She tugged at the red lace thong bisecting her ass cheeks like crimson dental floss. How did strippers stand these things? And how had Tuck ever persuaded her to agree to this embarrassing exercise? She spun around and popped her head through the slit in the dressing room curtain.
“I’m not stepping one foot out there in this thing.”
Like a pasha taking his ease in his private harem, Tuck was sprawled on a soft leather couch surrounded by a half dozen, iridescent silk pillows. Fingers laced on his flat belly, his thickly muscled chest tested the seams of the black, short-sleeved T-shirt molded over his upper body. Beneath khaki shorts, one tanned calf was propped over the other knee.
He shot her an innocent smile. “Aw. Come on. You showed me the others.”
True, and the private fashion show had proven a costly mistake. Wasn’t her willpower already shaky enough? Self-sabotage wasn’t only stupid, it was dangerous. Holy crap, she was playing with fire. But geez, how was she supposed to stay focused on holding him off when everything within her cried out to step into his arms and discover what all those sensual promises in his eyes and kisses were about?
Still, who knew standing before a man in a tiny bikini would be so…titillating? Or that the blatant desire in his eyes would deliver an irresistible sense of feminine power? Uh-huh, and that feminine power had nothing on the tempting fantasies his heated gaze produced.
She winced and tugged the curtain tight around her face. “Yeah, well, the others had actual material. This thing is nothing more than a couple of strings and three quarter-sized scraps of lace. I’m practically naked.”
The smile slid from his face. Ruddy color bloomed on his cheekbones, and his eyes blazed with wicked intent. He dropped his foot to the floor, and his palms went to his knees as he sat forward. “Then I’ll join you in there.”
She nearly ripped the curtain down as she jerked an arm through the panels and held out her hand, palm forward. “Don’t you dare!”
His lips turned down in a pout worthy of a five-year-old, but to her immense relief, he remained seated. “That’s not fair. I want to see.”
“I mean it, Tucker. Don’t get off that couch.”
He shook his head. “That’s just mean, sunshine.”
Mean or not, she meant what she said. If he thought she’d let him, or anyone else, get a peek at her in this obscene excuse for swimwear, he was off in the head. He sprawled back on the couch, but she didn’t trust his acquiescence for a second and hesitated closing the curtain to rid herself of the stripper suit. Thankfully, the boutique owner provided a timely diversion. She entered the private salon and bent to slip a napkin and a glass of sparkling wine on the low table in front of him.
“Is there anything else I can get you, Mr. Tucker?”
His trademark dimples flashed and boyish anticipation sparkled in his eyes. “Well, Alison, now that you mention it. Got any pizza in that back room?”
The stylishly dressed merchant didn’t blink an eye at his ridiculous request. No doubt the dollar signs spinning in her eyes had caused her lids to malfunction.
“Pizza can be arranged. What toppings do you prefer?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” CC yanked the curtains closed and tore at the strings of the miniscule top barely encasing her nipples. She stripped the thong from her hips and tossed the offending garment onto the tufted couch. Grabbing her panties, and shoving her legs into them, she grumbled beneath her breath. “You’re an idiot, CC, and he’s the devil.”
Shorts pulled on and buttoned, she snatched up her blouse. The couch held half of the two dozen colorful bikinis she’d voluntarily donned and modeled over the last hour and a half. Her gaze fell on a silky, teal number, and she shivered, recalling the male appreciation in Tuck’s eyes as she modeled it.
She frowned.
There’s nothing wrong with your old suit. Lots of women wear a one piece.
Her shoulders sagged on a weighty sigh. She was in trouble. Big trouble. Tossing the strap of her purse over one shoulder, she exited the changing room and stalked by him without glancing his way. He leaped to his feet and, laughing like a loon, trailed after her as she headed for the nearest exit. Before she could reach the front door, he wrapped his fingers around her arm and tugged her to a stop.
The boutique owner spoke behind them. “Oh, dear. Is there a problem?”
He turned and brought CC with him. “No problem, but you can cancel that pizza.”
With precise bearing, the shop owner clasped her hands at her waist. She didn’t even glance CC’s way. “Have you made your choices?”
He turned to CC and cocked his head. “Have we?”
“I don’t need—”
“Admit it. You liked the pink one.” He dipped his head, bringing his face closer, and dropped his voice to an intimate croon. “And the sexy teal one. So did I.”
Heat fired in her chest and raced to her cheeks. The devil had the audacity to grin, and without waiting for a response, instructed Alison to ring up the two suits.
* * * *
An hour later, Tuck wheeled the Jeep into a private, gated community. Waved through by the smiling guard manning the booth, they passed the sculpted lawns of spectacular homes, each one grander than the next.
“Where
exactly
are we going?” When they’d swung by her place to pick up Walter and she asked where they were headed, he’d answered simply, “the beach.” She’d assumed they were headed for one of New Jersey’s many public beaches, but homes like these didn’t occupy the coastline where the throngs spent their days sunning and surfing. The moneyed set had their own exclusive real estate and guarded it well.
“A friend of mine has a place on the water. It’s beautiful. You’ll love it.”
Before she could comment, he turned the Jeep onto a cobbled drive and stopped before a ten-foot-tall curved iron gate. He punched a code into a panel inset in a brick wall, and the gate swung open. Her jaw nearly dropped when the sprawling mansion, looking more like a five-star resort than a private home, came into view.
At least two dozen chimneys rose from a series of pitched roofs, above what she estimated was close to one hundred windows. A second, smaller version of the grand structure sat in the distance. She’d been raised by a rock star, at least until she was nine, and had experienced the creature comforts that came with the kind of wealth most people only dreamed of, but this was ridiculous.
“Who
is
this friend?” She dipped her head for a better view through the windshield as he brought the vehicle to a stop. “A Kennedy?”
He laughed and twisted his upper body to tug a pair of red swim trunks from beneath Walter, where he perched on the backseat. “Nothing so glamorous. He spends his time on Wall Street, not Pennsylvania Avenue. Come on.”
Walter leaped out of the Jeep after him and loped off to investigate a row of crisply sculpted shrubs. Tuck rounded the hood as she slid out the passenger door. The blue of the Atlantic sparkled beyond the canopy of lush trees. He guided her down a brick path, and they left the buildings behind.
“Aren’t you going to stop in to say hi and at least let your friend know we’re here?”
“I would if he was in residence, but he’s not. We have the place to ourselves.” He slowed his steps. “Did you want a tour before we hit the beach?”
She shot a quick glance over her shoulder and shook her head. “The sun would be down before we finished.”
He grinned and grabbed her hand.
They passed through a second gate at the back of the property, and like a postcard, a half mile cove of pristine sand and surf greeted them. A flock of gulls skittered back and forth at the edge of the water. Walter spotted them and raced off to give chase. Far off in the distance, a lone figure cast a line into the churning surf, but otherwise, the beach was empty.
She glanced around with a frown. “There’s nobody here.”
“Yeah.” A satisfied sigh lifted his chest. “Ain’t it great?”
To their left, a glass-fronted bungalow edged the sand. Several lounge chairs occupied the charming wraparound deck. He produced a key from the pocket of his shorts and tugged her up the steps, then paused. His shrill whistle pierced the air. Walter pivoted in a wide arc and raced back.
The open floor plan included a comfortable seating area, a small kitchen, and a full bar.
“There’s a bathroom through there where you can change.” He bumped his chin toward a set of double doors at the back of the room and moved behind the granite island to the bar. He bent to open a mini-fridge. “Do you want something to drink?”
“I’ll take a bottled water if they have it.”
He straightened with a beer bottle in hand. One sandy blond brow arched over his laughing eyes. “Water?”
She shrugged. “It’s important to stay hydrated.”
He shook his head and pulled a water from the fridge. “Puritan.”
She snatched the bottle from his hand and ignored his chuckle to stalk toward the double doors. Inside the full bathroom, decorated in a beach theme of pale blue and yellow tiles, she blew out a heavy breath and sagged against the closed doors. An afternoon spent alone on a private beach with Tuck wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she proposed her dating theory and, after that bikini fashion show, was far too intimate a prospect for her shaky equilibrium.
They needed to have another conversation on the fundamentals of her dating theory, but after his whispered comment the other night, she was reluctant to bring up the subject.
We’ll get to the fucking…soon.
That was what she was afraid of or, more precisely, not afraid enough.