The door to their hotel suite crashed open as Mr. and Mrs. Tucker McBride spun into the room, locked in a wild, passionate embrace. Tucker had made a strategic mistake when he’d begun kissing her in the limo, but he’d never expected to lose control so quickly. It had never happened to him before. But then, Gillian had never happened to him, had she? Ten months of suppressed desire had coalesced into one raging hard-on.
His fingers scratched for her zipper pull. Hers shoved at the shoulders of his coat. He yanked the zipper. She wrenched her mouth away from his. “Don’t rip it!”
“Then get out of it. Now. But leave the shoes on.”
She shoved him away and shimmied out of her dress as Tucker shed his coat and vest. His gaze locked on her, and all he saw was red. Red bra. Red panties. The red haze of desire clouding his vision. He reached for his tie to yank it off, and she snapped, “No! Let me!”
Damned if she didn’t grab his tie and tug him into his bedroom.
They rolled and wrestled and finally, blessedly, lay naked. Neither one of them had the patience or desire to slow things down, and they consummated their marriage in a red-hot blaze of passion that didn’t burn out until the first rays of sunrise burst upon the eastern sky. Finally, sated, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Tucker awoke four hours later when the soft, supple warmth snuggled up next to him suddenly transformed to stiff and prickly.
“Oh, God.” His naked bride sat up and said, “What have I done?”
He pried open one eye, identified the expression on her face as horror, and quickly shut it again before she noticed. He considered pulling his pillow over his head and going back to sleep.
“My mother will kill me!”
Tucker stifled a sigh. It would have been nice to avoid this, but he couldn’t pretend to be surprised. She’d been humming on adrenaline when she’d agreed to his proposal last night.
She grabbed hold of his shoulder and shook him. “Tucker, wake up. We have to fix this. We have to undo this. Tucker!”
He opened his eyes. Hers looked a little wild as she stared down at him. He went up on his elbow. “C’mon, Gillian. That’s just mean. I know you enjoyed yourself. No way you faked all those orgasms.”
“What? No. I don’t fake it! Well, sometimes, maybe, but not with you. Not last night. I didn’t fake with you.”
“There you go.”
He started to pull her back down to him, but her full breast was dangling inches away from his mouth, so he reached up and took it.
A moment later, she shuddered a breath, moaned low in her throat, and surrendered. It was well over an hour later, after they’d rolled in the sheets some more, then dawdled together in the shower, and Tucker had confirmed that no, she did not fake it, that she brought the subject up again. She was wrapped in one of the hotel’s bathrobes and standing at the window, staring out at the Las Vegas Strip when she softly said, “It’s not about the sex, Tucker. It’s about the wedding. What we did was insane.”
“Why?”
She turned to face him. “You don’t just get married on a … purse high. You have to think it through, you have to plan, you have to tell your mother and buy a dress!”
Tucker tried somewhat hard not to be annoyed. “So, what’s most important really is the wedding, not being married.”
She winced and closed her eyes. “Ouch. I guess that when it comes to my mother, it is about the wedding and the dress. I’m her only daughter. If I eloped to Las Vegas without her there to see me get married, it would break her heart.”
“You did elope in Las Vegas, and she wasn’t there to see you.”
“That’s why we have to fix this, Tucker. We had a quickie wedding. Now we need to get a quickie divorce. Or an annulment. I’m sure they do that here.”
Now, it was Tucker’s turn to stare out of the window and think. Gillian and her wedding gowns and her mother. He shouldn’t be surprised or take it personally. This was how they made their livings. This wasn’t Jeremy’s “all about the wedding” accusation. She’d brought up two aspects of it, two critical pieces that were intertwined with the woman who she loved above all others. This wasn’t wedding obsession. It was maternal love. Had he made a poor battlefield decision last night? Was it time to retreat and regroup?
Maybe, but damn. He’d gained ground, and it went against his grain to give it up.
Gillian’s voice broke into his thoughts. “What’s so horrible about this is that given time, I think you and I could have something special. I don’t want to screw that up.”
Given time. Tucker turned around. His gaze sought his suit vest still lying on the floor where she’d tossed it in the early hours of the morning. He envisioned the watch tucked away in its pocket.
“I do too, Glory. I think you and I can have something outstanding.”
“Do you think we could fall in love?” The yearning in her voice broke his heart.
“I think we’re definitely approaching the tipping point toward that, yes. I am, for sure. You turned to me for comfort and support. You came to me when you needed arms to hold you. You made love with me last night like you meant it. It wasn’t just sex, Gillian. We are more than friends. Aren’t we?”
She nodded. Tucker crossed the room to her, reached out and tucked a strand of silky hair behind her ear. “I’ll be honest with you, Glory. I’ve never been in love before, so I’m not one hundred percent certain what it’s supposed to feel like. What I can tell you is that I’ve never felt this way about any other woman.”
She hugged herself and rubbed her arms as if she were cold. “Hearing that makes me feel both fabulous and afraid. It’s too soon for me, Tucker. A short time ago, I was ready to marry Jeremy. I thought I was in love with him. I couldn’t have been more wrong, so now I don’t trust my own emotions.”
“Understandable.”
“I am certain about one thing, though. I absolutely positively can’t go home and tell my mother I got married last night by Skinny Elvis!”
“I’m really sorry it was Fat Elvis’s night off.”
She closed her eyes and groaned a laugh.
“Maybe this thing between us is backwards from what you had before.”
“What do you mean?”
“You weren’t ready to marry me, and you’re not sure you are in love with me, so that means we’re perfect. This wedding was meant to be.”
“You’re crazy. Tucker, this is no way to begin a marriage. You need to be thoughtful and deliberate and certain. You need to plan.”
“Or maybe you need to turn the rules upside down. One thing the military taught me is the power of disruption.”
“This certainly was that. Backwards, upside down, disruptive? That’s not the way I roll, Tucker. No, this … impulse … can’t stand. We have to get a divorce. Like the saying goes, what happened in Vegas needs to stay in Vegas.”
“But—”
She implored him with a look. “Maybe if we take care with one another, we can navigate these waters without anyone being hurt. I want us to stay friends. More than friends. Who knows what will happen in time?”
Tucker bit back a sigh. Time. Strategy. Battlefield adjustments. Sometimes a strategic retreat ensured an eventual victory. Keep your eye on the prize, McBride. He gave their situation a few moments’ thought, then said, “Okay. We’ll do things your way. You oohed and aahed over the bathtub at one point last night. Why don’t you go soak and relax while I make some calls? I’ll order up breakfast and see what we need to do to comply with Nevada law.”
“That sounds great.” She went to him and went up on her toes and kissed him quickly. “Thank you, Tucker.”
When she would have retreated to the bathroom, he grabbed her arm and tugged her back to him and gave her a long, thorough kiss. “You’re welcome.”
His calls yielded some surprises that led to more calls. By the time breakfast arrived and he tapped on the bathroom door to let her know, he had a plan that worked for him and one that he hoped would appeal to her.
Over omelets, he outlined their options, beginning with the most complicated and ending with what he preferred. “In order to divorce here in Nevada, one of us needs to establish residency for six weeks prior to filing for divorce. I have a buddy who conducts intense, advanced survivalist training in the Nevada desert in the summer. He’s willing to switch places with me and take over my classes, so following Jackson’s wedding in June, I could move out here for the duration. After we file, I understand that we can get the deed done in a couple of weeks to a month.”
“Oh,” she said, her teeth tugging on her bottom lip. “Wow. You’re offering to spend the summer in Death Valley so that I don’t have to tell my mother about Elvis? I don’t know if that makes you my hero or an idiot.”
Tucker grinned at her and stole a slice of banana from the fruit cup she’d ordered with his fork. “Actually, what it makes me is determined to win.”
“Win what?”
“Your heart.” She fumbled her fork at that. Tucker held her gaze and declared himself. “I don’t want any misunderstanding. I’m being completely honest and transparent here. I will cooperate with this divorce because I don’t want you to feel manipulated or forced into a marriage you don’t want. However, I don’t want a divorce. I want marriage and babies and Christmas with your family and Thanksgiving with mine. The whole tamale.”
“But, Tucker, how can you be so certain that I am—”
“Dammit, Gillian, the only thing I’m certain about is that nothing in life is certain. I was certain I would spend my entire career in the military. I was certain when I met you that you were beyond my reach. But here I am and here you are, and fate and Elvis have dropped you into my lap. I’m going to do my best to keep you. Consider this fair warning. I’m showing you my battle plan. I intend to spend the weeks between now and Jackson’s wedding wooing you. I don’t really want to spend July in Nevada. A honeymoon in Alaska sounds much nicer.”
“Alaska!”
“Remote. Beautiful days. Nights made for snuggling.”
She lifted her chin and gave her hair a toss. “I will not spend my honeymoon in a tent around grizzly bears, Tucker McBride.”
Ah-ha! He had a nibble at the hook. He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m open to negotiation on honeymoon destinations.”
She took a sip of orange juice before saying, “Tucker, last night was … was…”
“Fabulous?” he suggested. “Beyond compare? The best you’ve ever had?”
She gave a little laugh. “Yes, yes, yes. But, we’re talking about marriage here, not sex. We got married on impulse. I’m a planner. I don’t do impulsive.”
“I’d argue the point, but let’s not get sidetracked. I laid out our options. This is the cleanest option we have if we want to keep the process all American. If we do this, we go home. We see what happens. If I can’t convince you to stay with me, I deserve to spend the summer with the kangaroo rats.”
She grimaced and shuddered, and in that instant, she reminded him of Haley, the girliest girl in second grade. What he wouldn’t give to have a daughter with this woman. Tucker held his breath, waiting for her decision, sensing he’d pushed as hard as he should right now. Damn, but he wanted her to say yes.
“How would we do it? Would we, well, date? Out in the open?”
“Why not?”
Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip as she considered. “We’d face nonstop questions. It’s life in the small town fishbowl. I know I’m already on top of the gossip charts, but I’m not accustomed to lying. I’m not very good at it. I’ll screw it up.”
“So, we don’t go public. We keep our relationship secret, have a clandestine affair. Although, does it count as an affair if we’re already married?”
“You mean have a real affair? Tucker, we can’t have a secret affair in Redemption. Small town fishbowl, remember?”
“You forget I am an expert at clandestine infiltration and exfiltration. No one will know, I promise. It might be fun, add a little spice.” When she looked like she was going to protest, he said, “Honey, I don’t think we can go back to being lunch buddies. Not after last night. We are going to want to share marital relations.”
She rolled her eyes at the term, but confessed, “We are good together in bed.”
“Dynamite. In the shower too.” Tucker reached across the table and took her hand. “Give it a try, Glory. Give me a chance.”
“Oh, Tucker. I want to be clear. I don’t want to lead you on. It’s just too soon for me to know—”
He interrupted. “I’m not asking for promises now, only time. Give us time. Let’s take what happened in Vegas home with us. It’ll be our little secret. And when June rolls around if you still want this divorce, you’ll get no pushback from me. You have my word.”
“And you don’t lie.”
“Neither do I cheat. Not at golf or any other aspect of life.”
Her lips twitched, she looked down at their clasped hands, and eventually, she nodded. “Okay.”
Tucker wanted to shoot his fist into the sky and holler, “Yes.” Instead, he gave her hand a squeeze. “Come back to bed with me, Glory. Let’s celebrate.”
And so commenced Operation Horny Toad, Part Two.
Back in Redemption, Gillian felt more than a little wicked. Twice during those first few days following the Las Vegas weekend, she came close to telling Maisy about what happened there. Once, she almost told Caroline. Each time, she stopped herself. What happened in Vegas absolutely had to stay in Vegas.
No way could she ever tell her mother she got married on a purse whim. Barbara Thacker would be crushed.
Luckily, Gillian didn’t face too much of a grilling upon her return. She’d summarized the exchange with Erica in a note she’d left for her mom when she’d fled Bliss, so Barbara had understood her sudden need to get away for a few days. When she’d pressed Gillian for information, her questions concentrated on Gillian’s emotional well-being, not where she’d gone or what she’d done. Luckily, Coco hadn’t spread word around town about how Gillian had departed. Caroline had known more details, of course, and when Gillian picked up Peaches from Caroline and Jackson’s house, Caroline had offered to listen if she needed to talk. Gillian had appreciated her restraint. Maisy had been more focused on discussing Jeremy’s perfidy and Gillian’s mental health than where she’d spent her weekend.
According to Maisy, Jeremy and his new fiancée were the talk of the town. Erica had been quick to spread the word that she’d bought the dress for her imminent wedding at Bliss. Gillian received quite a few pitying looks, but no one as of yet had the temerity to bring the situation up to her face.
She took it all with a grace that surprised herself, and she suspected her strength had a lot to do with how she spent her evenings. She’d come home from work on Monday afternoon to find a wrapped gift on her bed. Always a fan of presents, she ripped open the package and discovered new sheets. Red sheets. She’d rolled in them with the gift giver every night this week.
So far, Tucker had lived up to his claim of having secrecy superpowers. Not even Peaches heard him sneaking in at night.
“I think you need a name,” she told him on Thursday as she snuggled up against him in the aftermath of lovemaking. “Like the Phantom. Phantom of Fulfillment.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but phantoms don’t work for me. Phantoms are shadowy and fuzzy and airy. If I were going to have a superhero name, I’d need it to be something more corporal. Something strong and manly. Superman is strong. He’s the Man of Steel. Iron Man is strong.”
“See, I disagree. Phantoms are sexy. And sneaky.”
“Sexy and sneaky are good, but you have to get the strong in there too.”
He pulled her on top of him and began nuzzling her neck. She felt him harden against her yet again and observed, “I guess Phantom Energizer Bunny doesn’t work for you?”
He nipped her neck and slid into her, and she laughed. “The Stone Obelisk Phantom?”
“There’s nothing phantom about my obelisk,” he declared before proving his point yet again.
Tucker stayed the entire night, and Gillian awoke on Friday morning to the aroma of frying sausage, feeling deliciously rested and at peace. It was early, a little past dawn judging by the soft light beaming through her bedroom window. She rolled out of bed, showered, then strolled into her kitchen to find the coffee made and the makings for breakfast tacos on the kitchen island.
Tucker tossed Peaches a hunk of sausage and gave Gillian a warm smile. “Mornin’, Glory.”
“Mornin’, handsome. You’re up early.”
“We have a three-day class this weekend, and it begins this morning at eight in the classroom. I need to do some prep work I’ve neglected.” He spooned salsa onto his taco fixings and said, “We’ll move out to the canyon campus around midafternoon. It’ll probably be late before I’m through tonight, and then tomorrow’s class begins extra early. I’m not camping with them, though. Why don’t you come out to the canyon and spend the night with me in the Airstream?”
“Sorry, but I can’t. It’s my dad’s birthday. My brother and I are taking Mom and Dad out to dinner, and then we’re doing game night at their house. My dad is a Monopoly maniac. I’ll probably end up sleeping over there.” Tucker made an exaggerated crestfallen face, which caused her to grin. “You’ll survive one night without me.”
“It won’t be easy.”
Since he’d cooked, she cleaned up after, while he took a quick shower, kissed her goodbye, and made his stealthy exit from her house. With a couple of hours to kill before she needed to get ready for work, she decided to take Peaches for a walk. Without conscious thought, she selected her red yoga pants and matching shirt to wear. She chose the red retractable dog leash for Peaches and headed outside.
Dew glistened like diamonds on the green blades of Bermuda grass lawns in her neighborhood. Someone was frying bacon for breakfast. About half of the houses she passed had windows open to take advantage of the fresh morning breeze, so the sounds of everyday family activities drifted on the air. Mom, where’s my history book? Honey, have you seen my wallet? Megan, put the dogs outside before we sit down to eat.
Gillian smiled with pleasure in the morning. Redemption, Texas, really was a nice little town, and she was happy to live here. Somehow, someway, she would figure out a method to peacefully coexist with her ex and Erica and their little bundle of joy. Maybe she’d spend a bit more time in Enchanted Canyon in search of peace for her troubled soul.
Maybe she should try to cut game night short and accept Tucker’s invitation, after all.
As far as the situation with her lover went, well, it was way too soon to make any decisions beyond keeping Vegas in Vegas. This whole secret affair thing was a new experience for her, and she was having fun with it. While skittering around the truth with friends and family did not come naturally to her, and the vague explanation she’d given of how she’d spent her weekend didn’t roll smoothly off her tongue, she was an adult. Secret wedding aside, she didn’t owe anyone all the details about every aspect of her personal life.
She reminded herself of that later when the fiancée of one of Jeremy’s friends arrived for her two o’clock appointment at Bliss and spent as much time digging for dirt and flinging sand in Gillian’s face as shopping for her wedding gown. Luckily, Gillian had worn red panties beneath her usual black slacks, so she continued to keep her power attitude on. By the time the bride left the shop, Gillian had decided a bit of online shopping was in order. She needed to supplement her limited supply of everyday panties—in the color red.
Later, as she chose her dinner outfit, she debated whether or not to wear the dress that Tucker had given her in Vegas. It was a date-night dress, not an out-with-the-parents dress. Wearing it, knowing its history, would be a little weird, wouldn’t it?
She could see it now. Her mother would say, “Gillian, I know I haven’t seen you wear that dress before. Where did you get it? It’s fabulous.”
“It’s my wedding dress.”
Yeah. Right. Not gonna happen. Gillian pulled her usual black number from her closet and laid it out on the bed. Her phone rang as she was finishing her makeup. Maisy. “Hey, Maisy. What’s up?”
“Nothing good,” her friend replied. “I heard some news and figured I should give you a heads-up. Your dad’s birthday dinner is at Otto’s tonight, isn’t it?”
Warily, Gillian responded, “Yes. Our reservation is in an hour.”
“Well, Marilee Hawkins stopped in with a message for you.”
Gillian’s stomach sank, and she closed her eyes. It was easy to guess what Maisy was about to say. Marilee Hawkins worked as a hostess and handled reservations for Otto’s.
“Jeremy has a reservation tonight.”
Bingo. Gillian walked out of her house forty minutes later wearing her red underwear—and her red wedding dress.
Strength and power and passion.
Her mother loved her dress. Gillian told her it was a retail therapy purchase and changed the subject. The Thacker family was seated and enjoying drinks and appetizers when Marilee escorted Jeremy, Erica, and another couple to a table on the opposite side of the restaurant. Visiting with her mother and with her back toward the restaurant’s entrance, Gillian didn’t notice their arrival, but when her father—a man who rarely cursed—muttered an invective, she knew what it meant.
Her brother, Mike, who didn’t share his dad’s disdain of foul language, spat out a string of colorful words beginning with “that lowdown” and ending with “sorry sonofabitch” before adding, “The guy’s been needing an ass whipping for months. Tonight might just be the night.”
Barbara Thacker reached out and gave Gillian’s hand a comforting pat. Her father said, “I’ve lost my appetite for German food. Why don’t we pay our check and get an early start on Monopoly?”
Running from Jeremy Jones? The very idea of it made her see red. Feel red. She heard the echo of Tucker’s voice in her mind—Remember that red really is your color.
Strength and power and passion. Gillian lifted her chin. “No, we’re not leaving.” She shot back her chair, rose from her seat, and gave her parents a reassuring smile. “I must go congratulate the happy couple. If our server arrives before I return, order the New York strip for me, would you please?”
“Not the duck schnitzel?” her brother asked. “You always order the schnitzel.”
“Tonight, I’m in the mood for red meat.” She turned on her snakeskin stilettos and started across the room.
Gillian felt the eyes of everyone in the restaurant on her. A wave of anticipation rippled through the room. Jeremy saw her and his eyes rounded in surprise, and then went wary. Erica’s eyes narrowed to slits.
Gillian bolstered her defenses by fantasizing Tucker lying naked in her bed, and then she formed a smile. She nodded to the mother-to-be. “Good evening, Erica.” Meeting Jeremy’s gaze, she said, “I understand congratulations are in order. I wish you much happiness in your marriage and family life.”
“Uh … uh … uh,” he stuttered. “Thank you.”
Gillian nodded regally, turned, and with her head held high, and her smile genuine, returned to her table. Her only regret was that Tucker hadn’t been there to see it.
The Thacker family took their cues from her, and throughout the birthday meal, conversation remained lighthearted and fun. Gillian’s father and brother didn’t ignore her ex’s presence, but instead, entertained themselves with creative suggestions on ways they could give him his just deserts.
They were lingering over cheesecake and after dinner port when the Jones party of four departed. The Thacker family agreed that for the gossips in attendance, the score was Gillian one, Jeremy zero.
The board game battle lasted until midnight, and as her parents prepared for bed and her brother declared his intention to go home rather than stay the night, Gillian took advantage of the opportunity to do the same. A light was still burning in Tucker’s Airstream trailer when she knocked on the door at a quarter to one. He opened the door wearing nothing but a knowing smile. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“I told you not to do that.”
“I knew that houses and hotels on Boardwalk and Park Place wouldn’t hold a candle to a trailer in Enchanted Canyon.” He took hold of her hand and pulled her inside. “You look happy. Did you win at Monopoly?”
“No. Nobody beats my dad. That’s why he loves the game so much. I am happy, though, and let me tell you why.”
She gave him a blow-by-blow report of the events at Otto’s and his “Atta girl” at the end of the telling had her glowing with pride.
Then he put his hands and mouth on her, and she glowed from a different source entirely.
Days drifted into weeks, and Gillian was as happy as she’d been in a very long time. She ran into Jeremy twice, once in the grocery store and once on Taco Tuesday at the Marktplatz. She handled both occasions just fine. She did suffer a bit of emotional angst when he married Erica and honeymooned at the same island destination where they’d planned to stay, but her friends, her mother, and her lover supported her through it, so she managed all right.
Through it all, she and Tucker continued their secret affair. The school kept him wickedly busy, which was a good thing, she thought. It kept him distracted. He wanted to begin dating her publicly, but she simply wasn’t ready for that yet.
She liked Tucker very much. He made her laugh, made her think, made her reach. He was funny and smart and oh, so sexy. She had feelings for him, yes, but what label to place on those feelings she couldn’t say. She no longer trusted herself to know. After all, she’d believed she’d loved Jeremy, yet here she was less than six months later with her heart all aflutter over another man.
She was daydreaming about said other man the first week of June when he called her to tell her he wouldn’t be sneaking into her bedroom that night. “Boone called a little bit ago. He’s on his way to Texas, and he asked if I’d camp with him for a couple of nights in the canyon. Something’s going on with him. I’m not sure what. He said that Celeste told him he needed a dose of Enchanted Canyon’s peace.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious,” Gillian replied.
“Me too. Boone didn’t sound at all like himself, and it’s beyond strange for him to make the trip when we’re all headed to Eternity Springs next week for Jackson and Caroline’s wedding.” Tucker exhaled a sigh, then added, “Sorry to cancel on you, Glory, especially tonight when we had the season three finale of ‘Pretty Cowboy’ lined up to watch. If you want to go ahead and watch it—”
“I’ll wait.” They’d been binge-watching Justified together for the past few weeks. “Pretty Cowboy” was Tucker’s nickname for the television series, something he’d adopted after hearing Caroline, Maisy, and Gillian fangirl over the actor playing the main character. “It wouldn’t be the same without you. You go on and take care of your cousin. Check in with me when you can.”
“Will do. Thanks for understanding. Sleep tight tonight, Glory. Miss me a little bit.”
“I’ll miss you a lot,” she assured him.
She would miss him more than just a lot. They spent almost every weeknight together, and she’d quickly grown accustomed to having him in her bed. It still amazed her that they’d managed to carry on in secret all this time. The man truly was a phantom when it came to sneaking about.
However, good as he was, he wasn’t invisible. The whole secrecy thing had been fun, but June was just around the corner. She’d have to decide soon.
Maybe the first step was to take their relationship out of the shadows, let her friends know, let her mother know, that she was seeing Tucker.
She was mulling over the idea, inching her way forward to acceptance when the jingle of Bliss’s doorbell announced a visitor. An unexpected, unwelcome visitor. “Hello, Erica. What can I do for you this afternoon?”