Tucker watched Zoe and his mother from his hiding place like they were players in a tennis match. He’d thought to hang back to hear their discussion but then Hunter walked down the hall where he was eavesdropping. His big brother handed the kid off and pushed him on down the hallway.
“Mom catches you, there’ll be trouble. Besides, we need to talk.”
That didn’t bode well. Neither did Cooper and Bridger standing in the game room like gate sentries. With their feet spread and arms crossed over their chests, they radiated determination. “You’re the last one of us I’d pick to be in this mess,” Bridger said. Hunter and Cooper agreed.
“I know what I’m doing.” Tucker glowered at his brothers.
“We don’t think you do.” This from Cooper.
The intervention went downhill from there. Oddly, Hunter never said a word and Tucker wondered whose side his big brother was on. Nash finally saved him with a dirty diaper. His mom called them in for lunch as he finished changing the baby.
Zoe picked at her food. His brothers kept up a running commentary of their lives. Tucker shoveled food into his mouth. His mom was a great cook, and homemade fried chicken with mashed potatoes, gravy, biscuits and fresh green beans was his favorite meal. And with his mouth full of food, he didn’t have room to stick his foot in there.
After nibbling on a drumstick and stirring gravy around in the mashed potatoes on her plate, Zoe slipped out of her chair and carried her plate into the kitchen. Tucker watched his mother watch Zoe. Then her gaze focused on him with laser-sharp accuracy. Of course, his three brothers also turned their gazes on him.
“Don’t y’all work for a living?” he muttered.
“It’s Sunday,” Bridger reminded him.
“Hence, fried chicken for lunch?” Cooper hinted, like they hadn’t had fried chicken for Sunday lunch their entire lives.
Tucker glared at Hunter, waiting for his oldest brother to weigh in, but Bridger spoke up instead. “Speaking of lunch, guess who I ran into the other day?” he said to Hunter, who looked bored and took another bite. “Tanya McDaniels.”
Hunter choked as the rest of them froze, all eyes on Bridger. “Seems she’s moved back to Oklahoma City.”
Gulping the iced tea in his glass, Hunter seemed to have his breathing back under control, though his temper wasn’t. “In case you’ve forgotten, Bridger, that’s not a name I want repeated. We clear on that?” Hunter pushed back from the table, his chair scraping on the wooden floor. He cleared his plate and followed Zoe to the kitchen.
Silence reigned for several long moments, then Katherine rose and walked out of the room. Cooper hit Bridger in the biceps. Hard. “Way to go, numbnuts.”
“I thought he needed to know.” Bridger shrugged. “That whole deal with Tanya was screwed up, even to me, and I was just a kid. We all know she messed him over while he was deployed with the Marines.” He muttered a few strong words under his breath, none of them flattering. “Just sayin’.”
Tucker scraped the last bit of gravy off his plate with his biscuit, stuffed it into his mouth and stood. He smacked the back of Bridger’s head with his palm, gathered his plate and headed to the kitchen before his brother could retaliate. He glanced out the French doors and saw his mother and Hunter sitting on the back porch talking. Nash was secured in his carrier on the kitchen island, playing grabby-toes and giggling. Zoe was washing dishes.
“You don’t have to do that, angel.”
“Yeah I do.” Though quiet, Zoe’s voice was filled with conviction. “Gotta pay my own way, and with the Smithees—”
“C’mere.” Tucker cut her off and pulled her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head, speaking into her hair. “Let me explain something about my family. We stick together. When one of us is in trouble, we all come running to help. That includes our cousins, the Barrons. It’ll be all right, Zoe. I promise.”
Zoe stiffened. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. The Smithees have that awful lawyer workin’ for ’em. They’re gonna make a big ol’ stink and I’ve dragged your family right into the middle of it.”
“My family wants—”
Nash wailed, cutting him off. Zoe ducked around Tucker, snagged the carrier and swung it off the island. She then grabbed a bottle from the refrigerator. “I gotta feed Bugtussle.”
Tucker wanted to follow her to explain that he’d involved his family and why, but the appearance of his cousin, Chance, a drumstick in one hand and a folder in the other, had him reversing directions. “The study,” he directed. By the time they arrived in the cozy den-like space his father once used as an office, Chance had finished the chicken. Tucker settled a hip on one corner of the desk while Chance stood in front.
“I emailed Zoe’s recording contract to Don Easley,” Chance said without preamble. “Now, I just have one question for you, Tuck.” Tucker raised both brows in a look of inquiry, waiting for him to continue. “I’ve talked to Redmond Smithee. How much money are you willing to pay him to sign away his parental rights?” He stopped Tucker from answering with another question. “Why are you doing this, cuz?”
Good question. He dropped his chin and rubbed the back of his neck. “Already had the familial intervention, cuz.”
“No intervention, Tucker. I just want you to think things through. So, back to my original questions. How much and why?”
How much was easy. Why? He wasn’t impetuous. He didn’t just do crazy stuff like pick up a runaway bride stranded on the side of the road. He didn’t help babies get born. He didn’t fall for sweet-voiced country girls. Except he’d done all those things. He’d probably been falling in love with Zoe since the moment he stuffed that awful wedding dress around her in his T-Bird.
“I’ve got another question, Tuck. Have you talked to Zoe about this? About terminating the father’s parental rights?”
That question he could easily answer. He squarely met Chance’s gaze. “No, but she didn’t list Smithee on the birth certificate. A DNA test would prove he’s the father so I want that preempted. She wants those people out of her life, and out of her son’s.” Tucker breathed. “As for your other questions, first, how much? However much it takes.” He’d pay a million dollars to get the Smithees out of Zoe’s and Nash’s lives. Hell, he’d pay ten million.
“As for the why?” He looked down at the toes of his boots before answering. “Because I’m fairly certain I’m falling in love.”
“That’s all I needed to know.” Chance spread out the papers from the file on the desk. “I need a cashier’s check for one hundred thousand dollars. I’ll fly to Alabama tomorrow with the check, get Smithee to sign the papers and then I’ll put those funds in a trust account for him and his family. Now sign here, here and here.”
As Tucker signed, he said quietly, “How big a deal would adoption papers be?”
“A bit premature, don’t you think?” Chance looked concerned. “Given the circumstances?”
Tucker lifted one shoulder in a studied shrug. “Yeah, maybe. But you know me. I’m a planner. Just in case, I want them ready. For when the time comes.”
Chance favored him with a searching look, as he gathered the papers. “If that’s what you want, bud.” It sounded like a question.
The two of them headed for the back door. Katherine was puttering around in the kitchen, Zoe nowhere in sight. Chance paused to kiss his aunt on the cheek and then, with her admonition to toss the drumstick in the trash on his way out, he laughed and did. Tucker breathed easy for the first time in a while. Getting the Smithees out of Zoe’s life was worth every penny.
“That’s a lot of money,” his mother said in a soft voice—one he knew far too well. She was not happy.
“It’s my money, Mom. And you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.”
“This is my house, and you’re my son. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect both. What do you really know about this girl, Tucker?”
“I know everything I need to.”
“Is she worth a hundred thousand dollars?” Katherine held up her hand. “Think about it before you answer me. Examine your motives, son. Chase is married now. And Deacon, who stumbled into a ready-made family. You always did try to imitate both of them.”
He bristled. “That’s not what I’m doing, Mom.”
“It’s okay to care about this girl and her baby, but do you really need to get so involved? She might be talented—and according to Deacon and Dillon, she is. But how long would it take her to pay you back?”
“I don’t want her to pay me back.”
“I don’t understand you, Tucker.”
“I don’t exactly understand you at the moment, Mom. I thought you liked Zoe.”
“I do. But she’s not the woman for you.” His mother wiped her hands on a dish towel hung on the horseshoe nailed to the cabinet over the sink. “She has a child, Tucker. A child who isn’t yours. You’re an executive with a Fortune 100 company. She’s...she wants to be an entertainer. How will that work? She won’t be home to take care of her child or you. Or do you plan to trail around after her like a well-trained dog?”
“That’s enough, Mom. We’re done here.”
“We’re not even close. Who gives up their dream, Tucker? Have you thought about that? Your life is in Las Vegas or wherever else Barron Entertainment needs you. That apartment at the Crown Casino is as close to a home as you have when you aren’t here. In the room you grew up in. You stay in condos owned by the company when you travel. You need a real home. A real wife. Suppose it does work out between the two of you. Will you stay in Vegas while she lives in Nashville? Do you live separate lives with a nanny looking after her baby? Or do you give up everything you’ve worked for just so she can do what she wants?”
He growled under his breath, unwilling to admit he hadn’t thought things through completely, which was so unlike him. He was the logical one, the one who made plans and followed them. Or he had been until he met Zoe. Ever since he’d picked her up on the side of the road, he’d been running on emotional adrenaline. Maybe he did need to step back and assess the situation. Except he didn’t have to. He knew how he felt.
Zoe and Nash...he loved them.
Tucker, jostling Nash against his shoulder, watched Zoe slap icing on a blue cake. The thing looked like half a ball. The icing was white and there was a package of coconut flakes on the counter. Maybe it was supposed to look like a snowball.
“Ah, darlin’?”
“What?” She glanced up and he saw a dab of icing on her cheek. He had to refrain from licking it off.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I baked a cake and now I’m icing it.”
“Fair enough. Why did you bake a cake?”
“Because...well... I needed something to do. I’ve been here three days.” She tore the bag of coconut open with her teeth and began throwing handfuls at the cake. She finally stopped, then backed away until her butt was braced against the stainless steel Sub-Zero refrigerator. Shoving her hands into her pockets, which caused her shoulders to curve forward in a dejected slump, she huffed out a breath. “You just don’t get it.”
Something in her voice kept him silent when he would have offered up a quip or worse, some meaningless platitude. Tucker waited. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.
“I want to be a singer, Tucker,” she said, almost in a whisper. He had to strain to understand her words.
“You are a singer, Zoe. What does this have to do with baking a cake?”
In a stronger voice, though one thick with tears, she added, “Nothin’. I just... It’s...it was somethin’ nice to do for your family.”
His instincts told him to gather her into his arms. When he walked toward her, she held up her hands to halt him. “My whole life, all I’ve ever wanted to be is a singer. I want the albums and the studio time and performing in an arena in front of thousands of fans. I wanna win Entertainer of the Year from the Country Music Association.”
He didn’t catch the smile forming on his mouth in time. Her lips thinned but not in anger. Too late, Tucker realized her bottom lip was trembling.
“Your family feels sorry for me. I know people take one look at me and think I’m a joke. Just some no-account hillbilly girl with stars in her eyes.” Her gaze flicked to the baby in his arms. “One too dumb not to get pregnant by a stranger and then not smart enough to take care of it if her career is that all-fired important.”
He tried to interrupt her. “That’s not true, Zoe.”
“I might be from the back of beyond, but so was Miss Dolly. So were a lot of country stars before they came to Nashville and made a name for themselves. I can sing. I’m not afraid to work hard, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make my dream come true and take care of my baby boy.” Her head thunked against the metal fridge. “Well...not exactly whatever. I’ll get there on my talent, not my back.”
That got his attention—not that she didn’t have it before. “Zoe—”
“No. Hear me out. I don’t wanna believe that you think I’m doin’ the deed with you to get a contract with Bent Star, but I gotta wonder.” Her gaze was steady as she looked at him. “I got dreams. Big ones. Important ones. Important to me, anyway. I always have. And nobody is gonna stop me.”
“I’m not trying to stop you, Zoe. In fact—” He was about to tell her that Dandy Don had her contract from Bent Star, that he wanted to sign her and not because he’d mixed business with pleasure but because he believed in her, but he didn’t get the chance.
Because just then, Bridger walked in, a tabloid rolled up in one hand and a business card in the other. He paused, staring at Zoe, his face inscrutable. Tucker straightened as Bridge tossed the items onto the island.
“Bridge?” Tucker stared at his brother, concerned.
“Found this stuff in Nash’s diaper bag when I changed him earlier.”
Tucker recognized the tabloid—and its secret love nest headline. He picked up the card and he clenched his teeth when he read the name. “Parker Grace?”
Tucker tore his eyes from his brother and focused on Zoe. “What is this? Have you had contact with this woman?” Zoe’s voice rang in his head. I’ll do whatever it takes to make my dream come true. Had he been so wrong about Zoe? Had she been working with the one reporter his whole family hated?
To say the mood in the room was tense was an understatement. “She ambushed me at Dandy Don’s. I told her to leave. You can check. I called nine-one-one to report it.” Zoe’s gaze darted between the two men, as she worried they didn’t believe her. Her heart broke a little and then her temper flared. “Why in the deep, dark recesses of hell would I want my name splashed all over the tabloids?”
“Publicity,” Bridger said.
“Seriously? Y’all are crazy. Bein’ tabloid trash sucks. Y’all don’t know what it’s like havin’ people stare at you like you’re cow manure stuck on the bottom of their boots.”
“Zoe. We’ve never... I’ve never—”
She marched up to Tucker, plucked Nash from his arms and cuddled the baby close. She stared at the men—there was no compassion in Bridger’s eyes and only confusion in Tucker’s. Hot tears pricked the back of her eyelids. She would not cry. She would not show them how much this hurt. She should have expected something like this to happen. Bad stuff always did and she’d been a damn fool for ever thinking that she and Tucker might have something real and lasting. She was just a girl from the wrong side of the tracks who could sing a little and he was Tucker Tate, Mr. Billionaire Country, or he would be if there was a beauty contest like that.
She had to reach deep for some dignity and deeper still to find the stubbornness that saw her through every bad thing that happened in her life. She didn’t need Tucker Tate. Didn’t want him. Much. But she’d just learned something, and sometimes the lessons of the heart were the hardest and most painful. If he didn’t trust her, he’d never care about her.
“Zoe.”
Tucker reached for her but she dodged him. “I’m done here.”
Zoe stomped out of the kitchen, flying on adrenaline. She couldn’t stay in the same room with Tucker. Heck, she couldn’t stay in the same house with him. She’d pack up her and Nash’s stuff and go stay in the RV.
While she gathered their belongings, she came up with a plan. Digging out her cell, she called Dandy Don. She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to stay firm but failing as she said, “Hi, Mr. Don.”
“Are you okay, darlin’?” His voice, while full of fatherly concern, sounded far away.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” She could lie now because she would be fine. Eventually. “I wanted to let you know I’m headin’ back to Nashville to return your Volunteermobile. I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“Is Tucker—”
“No.” She cut him off. “He ain’t. I’m drivin’ back alone.” It wasn’t like Tucker and his family wanted her there.
“I’m not sure that’s a good—”
“We’ll be fine, Mr. Don, Nash and me.” And they would be because she was taking back her life.