Tucker (Texas Rascals Book 5) Read online

  “Do you like Chinese?” He held up the sack. “You fed me this morning, I figured it was my turn to reciprocate.”

  “Goodness, how did you know? I adore Chinese food.”

  “I imagine you adore just about everything.”

  Was he making fun of her? July looked at him but saw no sarcasm on his face. “Is it a crime to look on the sunny side of life?”

  “No. In fact, I like that about you. I wish I could be more optimistic.”

  “It’s not so hard. Just remind yourself to look for the silver linings.”

  “I’d like to learn how to do that,” he said quietly. “You’re so good at it. Maybe you could teach me.”

  “Can you afford takeout?” she asked, changing the subject to hide her embarrassment at his compliment.

  “I traded services for food.”

  Was that code for he stole it? No, she wasn’t going to think that way. She’d take him at his word. “What did you give in exchange for the food?”

  “The owner had a flat tire. I changed it for her.”

  “You should be stockpiling your favors. You might need them later.”

  “I have a feeling my luck has changed,” he murmured, his eyes darkening. Something about those murky depths plucked at July’s heartstrings. Those eyes spoke more than he would ever say.

  Her need to nurture kicked into overdrive.

  “That’s great news.” July brightened. “Did you get a lead on a job? What happened?”

  “You.”

  “Me?” She pressed a hand against her chest.

  “Yes.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve inspired me.”

  “I did? How?”

  “By your kindness. You brought a total stranger into your home, fed him breakfast, treated him with respect, showed him friendship. Most people wouldn’t do that.”

  “How sweet of you to say so.” Flattered, July beamed.

  “I’ve been thinking about you and what you said this morning. It made a lot of sense.”

  “It did?”

  “Yes. You said all I needed was to believe in myself.”

  “That’s true.”

  “I believe in you, July.”

  “You should have faith in yourself, Tucker.”

  “Teach me.” He took a step closer.

  “Teach you what?”

  She gulped. The man took her by surprise. She didn’t know how to react, but he impressed her on a deep level. She hadn’t felt like this in a very long time, if ever. Even at the beginning of her ill-fated relationship with Dexter.

  “Teach me to believe in myself. Teach me to care about people. Teach me to appreciate life. I want to start fresh. I want to get a job and rejoin the human race.”

  “Oh, Tucker, that’s a tall order. I’m a social worker, not a psychologist.”

  “Am I asking too much?” He ducked his head. “It’s too much.”

  “No, no. I’m just surprised. You said you wouldn’t be in town for long.”

  “That was before.”

  “Before what?”

  “I had a reason to stay.”

  Her? July’s pulse quivered. “I’ll do what I can to help you,” she said and meant it.

  Tucker was suffering. She saw deep, lingering pain reflected in his brown eyes.

  “I’ll do my best,” she vowed. Within reason, she reminded herself. Boundaries are important.

  “You’ll never know how much I appreciate this.”

  What was this deadly heat rippling through her body? July had no explanation for her reaction.

  She had to be careful. She liked him too much.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “Ravenous. I’ll get plates.” Any excuse to put some distance between them so she could think.

  “Let’s eat in the living room,” he said, “so we can look out the window.”

  She paused in the doorway, and turned back to look at him. “There’s nothing to see out there. Except for the apartments across the courtyard.”

  “I want to keep an eye on the weather. I heard they’re predicting a norther. Maybe even sleet or snow.”

  “Oh, I love snow!”

  “Frigid weather is not so much fun when you have to sleep out in it.”

  “No.” She sobered quickly. “I suppose it’s not.” How stupid of her, and how insensitive.

  “But that’s not your problem.” He gave her a half-smile that did not warm his eyes.

  “Tucker, there are shelters...”

  He raised a hand. “Let’s not talk about that right now. I thought you were starving.”

  “I am. I’ll be right back.”

  July brought plates from the kitchen while Tucker set out white cardboard cartons of Chinese food on the coffee table. The smell of sesame chicken, fried rice, and potstickers scented the room.

  “Potstickers!” July cried gleefully and clapped her hands. “My absolute favorite.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” She grinned.

  “You’re easy to please,” Tucker said.

  July settled down next to him on the sofa. “This was so nice of you to share your freebie food with me.”

  He shrugged. “It’s the least I could do.”

  “I was so tired, I’d decided to skip making dinner tonight.”

  “Tough day at work?”

  “Busy,” she said, massaging the kinks in her shoulder. “This time of year… So many people in need, so little funding. It’s frustrating.”

  “Come here.” He moved closer to her.

  “What?”

  “Let me rub your shoulders for you. It’s hard to do it one-handed.”

  “Oh, that’s okay.” July waved off his offer. Just the thought of his hands on her back had heat washing over her in tidal waves.

  He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Typical.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You give and give and give, and yet, when someone volunteers to help you, then you don’t want to accept.”

  “I…well…it’s hard for me to receive.”

  “Don’t you realize, July, that you’ve got to let other people give a little, too? Otherwise, things get too one-sided, and you have all the power in the relationship.”

  She slanted him a glance. That wasn’t the reason she didn’t want him to rub her shoulders. She was terrified if he touched her, she’d dissolve like honey in hot tea. Not good.

  “Well, since you put it that way.” She positioned her back to him and braced herself for an onslaught of sensation. “Go to town.”

  His touch was light, his fingers strong as he gently kneaded her knotted shoulders. Her skin rippled, energized.

  “You’re tense,” he murmured.

  Lordy, he didn’t know the half of it!

  Her insides were aflame, her mouth dry as a cotton gym sock. She’d never realized a simple shoulder rub could have such erotic consequences.

  Rubbing, kneading, stroking, caressing. Every nerve ending in her back tingled. After a few minutes, July could stand no more.

  “The food will get cold,” she said breathlessly, shifting away from those enticing fingers.

  “You weren’t kidding. It really is difficult for you to receive. Why?”

  Since she was a little girl, July tended to put others first out of necessity. Ministering to her mother during the troubled times had been the start of her impulses—she’d had enough counseling sessions to figure that out. She’d learned to hide her own pain by focusing on those around her. The antidote worked well. Most people adored her, and she usually felt good about herself. That is until someone like Tucker swaggered in to point out her deficiencies.

  Unnerved, July turned her head and stared at him.

  Those eyes, so deep, so dark, pierced her to the marrow of her bones. July held her breath as their gazes welded. Gulping, she wondered what uncanny powers this man possessed that touched her to the core.

  July dipped
a potsticker into the vinegary soy sauce. After the extended stare they’d shared, Tucker noticed she avoided meeting his eyes. The truth was, the intensity of that look they’d shared unnerved him, too.

  She took a bite of the potsticker. “Mmm. Oh, this is sooo good.”

  Tucker swallowed. Her muted sounds of pleasure were doing him in. His fingers still buzzed with energy from massaging her shoulders. He longed to lean over and capture her mouth with his and savor the incredible flavor of July mixed with exotic Chinese spices.

  But he had no right to think such thoughts. He was lying to her. Using her for his own purposes. Putting her life at risk without her knowledge. Guilt pressed against his chest, but Tucker shook off the feeling.

  It couldn’t be helped. He was just doing his job.

  July smiled at him over the sesame chicken.

  Damn! Why did she have to be so trusting?

  “Aren’t you hungry?” She pointed at him with her chopsticks. Her green eyes sparkled brighter than the Emerald City in The Wizard of Oz.

  “Huh?”

  “You haven’t touched your food.”

  “I was too busy watching you enjoy yours.” He didn’t have to lie; that much was true.

  “Eat.”

  Tucker’s gaze fixed on her upturned mouth. Who could resist a woman so full of pep? He’d bet anything she’d been a head cheerleader in high school. In high school, he’d been the tough guy slouching nonchalantly, smoking, drinking, copping an attitude and aching for someone to knock the chip off his shoulder. Because of his family, everyone had assumed the worst about him. It had been easier at times to play the role society expected than to buck the system.

  Especially after what happened with Karen.

  Watching July’s happy expression, Tucker gulped. Yes, July was his antithesis. Lightness to his dark. Sweetness to his sour. Positive to his negative.

  “Open mouth, insert food,” July said.

  Obediently, he tasted a potsticker. “It’s good.”

  “I was beginning to wonder if you knew how to enjoy anything,” she teased.

  He let his gaze rove over her body. A spark of sexual attraction blazed through him. “Believe me, there are things I enjoy.”

  “You’re so serious, Tucker.” She ignored the innuendo, leaving him feeling foolish for sounding so suggestive. “Why?”

  “Life is serious, July.”

  She threw back her head and laughed, the sound booming throughout the apartment. “Oh, Tucker, didn’t anyone ever tell you that life is what you make of it?”

  “You really believe that?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  She looked as cuddly as a stuffed teddy bear. Why wasn’t this exceptional woman married? Tucker wanted to be with her and to be more like her. She represented everything that was missing from his life, and that terrified him. July deserved far better than a cynical lawman using her for his own underhanded purposes.

  Tucker questioned the wisdom of his new plan. But now, sitting here, enjoying her hospitality, taking advantage of her kind nature, Tucker knew the scheme was wrong. He should go. But the Stravanos brothers could lead him to the man who was behind some serious crimes.

  Somewhere, distantly, a cell phone rang.

  “Oh, phooey,” July exclaimed, abandoning her dinner. “That’s mine. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared down the hall.

  Getting to his feet, Tucker strolled over to the window and peered down at the courtyard. The wind whipped pecan trees in a flurry, scattering nuts across the parking lot. There was no sign of the Stravanos brothers, and no lights shone in their apartment.

  “That was my friend Leslie,” July explained, popping back into the room.

  Trying to act casual, Tucker let the curtain drop and moved back to the sofa.

  “She needs a ride to work in the morning. Her car’s in the shop.”

  “So she called you.”

  “Of course. I’m always there for my friends.”

  “Do you know how rare that is?”

  “No, it’s not. My friends are there for me, too.”

  Tucker shook his head.

  “Mr. Haynes, you hang out with the wrong people,” July chided gently, settling in to attack her dinner with renewed gusto.

  She had no idea how right she was!

  Tucker couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her face—those rosy cheeks, that round little chin, that perky nose. Her skin glowed as clear and soft as morning dew. And her scent! Had he wandered into a lemon orchard at harvest time?

  His gaze lingered on her mouth, as sweet and pink as cotton candy. The desire to kiss her was overwhelming. He was in serious trouble here. Not good. Not good at all.

  5

  July’s teeth sank down on her bottom lip. Tucker was staring at her as if he was going to kiss her.

  Her heart skipped.

  “You have soy sauce on your face,” he said, tapping his chin.

  “Oh.” Feeling foolish for believing he was going to kiss her, July dabbed at her chin with a napkin.

  He’d been staring at her messy face, not her mouth. How could she have misconstrued his intentions? She was projecting her own wishful thinking onto him.

  Goodness, why did she want him to kiss her? She was supposed to be helping him, not falling for him. Of course, nobody would consider soy sauce on the chin an advanced seduction technique.

  “Did I get it?” she asked.

  “Not quite. May I?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Angling his body closer, Tucker tilted her chin with his thumb and rubbed his paper napkin gently across her skin.

  At his touch, fierce sparks flared over her face. She inhaled sharply. His brown eyes peered into hers.

  Disoriented, July lowered her lashes.

  “There,” Tucker said, his voice husky. “All gone.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  What was happening to her?

  She needed to get away from him, to consider what had just transpired. “I better get this mess cleaned up.”

  “Let me help.” Tucker rose to his feet.

  “Please, sit.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind helping.”

  “Yes.” She gathered up their dishes and zoomed to the kitchen, trying her best to ignore the crazy emotions surging through her veins.

  Rinsing the plates, she put them in the dishwasher. By the time she’d finished, her heart rate had dropped to a normal pace, and she’d convinced herself the overwhelming sensations she’d experienced at Tucker’s touch had been nothing extraordinary.

  The fact that he was an incredibly handsome man had nothing to do with anything.

  She wanted to help him. As a social worker. That was it. She had no ulterior motives. Absolutely none at all.

  “Okay, Tucker,” July said matter-of-factly. She returned to the living room, carrying a pen and notepad to find him peeping out the window again.

  He turned to face her. “Yes?”

  “We need to make a plan for your transformation.”

  “My what?”

  July plopped down in the rocking chair. “You’ve asked for my help. What we need is a blueprint for success.”

  “A blueprint?” he echoed.

  “Have a seat.” With her pen, she pointed at a chair halfway across the room. “Let’s get started.”

  Tucker sat down, steepled his fingers, and waited. Even from afar, his presence sucked all the oxygen from the room.

  Concentrate, July. She cleared her throat. “Number one goal—a job.”

  “Okay.”

  “The first step toward that goal—make you look presentable.”

  “Presentable?” His bottom lip curled in an amused smile.

  “Not that you look bad or anything,” July amended hurriedly, worrying that she’d sounded too blunt. “But if you want a good job, you’re going to have to fit a certain image.”

  “Ah.” His brown eyes glistened. “And what image is th
at?”

  July cleared her throat and dropped her gaze. Her hand trembled as she doodled on the yellow legal pad. “You know, clean-cut, respectable.”

  “You want to make me over into an office drone?”

  July squirmed beneath his scrutiny. “Well, not that. I just don’t want your appearance to be an immediate strike against you when you go in for a job interview.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “First, you need a haircut.”

  “Do you know a cheap barber?”

  Should she go out on a limb and offer her services? The thought of standing close enough to cut his hair had her turning to mush. July hesitated, then said, “Me.”

  “You?”

  “I took cosmetology in high school.”

  “You?” he repeated, running a hand through his hair.

  “Yes. I even still have my barber shears.” She made a snipping scissor motion with her fingers.

  Tucker blew out his breath through puffed cheeks. “All right. Go get your scissors.”

  “Now?”

  “Sure.” He shrugged. “Why not?”

  July blinked. Why not indeed? “I’ll change clothes and get my equipment. Be back in a flash.”

  Jumping up from the chair, July slipped into her bedroom, closed the door firmly behind her, and sank against it.

  Was she insane? Offering to give Tucker a haircut when just being near him unraveled her to such an extent?

  You can handle this. You’re helping him.

  Bolstered by her own pep talk, July changed into teal sweat pants and a baggy sweatshirt and hunted down her barber shears.

  Grabbing a towel from the bathroom, she hurried to the living room to find Tucker at the window once more.

  “You keep staring out that window. Do you see something fascinating?”

  Tucker turned to her and smiled. “Only you.”

  Wow-ee. He could be a real charmer when he tried. Cocking her head, July studied him in the lamplight.

  How did such a fascinating man find himself homeless and out of work? What forces had shaped his personality? What crisis had thrown him into his current situation?

  One way or the other, she’d wheedle answers from him. Once she learned what motivated him, helping him fight his personal demons would be easier.

  “Perhaps we should do this in the kitchen. The light’s better in there, and the floor is tile,” she said.