Chapter Eight
June Fifth
Tucker
I step inside the kitchen to see Hadley bent over, pulling a pan of something that smells really fucking good out of the oven. We’ve been married for a little over a week, and I’m still shocked when I walk into a room and find her standing there. Every time it happens, a smile spreads across my face.
My eyes are glued to her ass. She has on a pair of faded jeans that hug it in a way that has my dick waking from its slumber. I spent most of last night buried balls deep inside of her. Fuck, I’ve actually spent most of the last week fucking her in every position I could imagine. Still, my cock is ready and wanting more.
I wait until she sets the pan on the stove and uses her knee to shut the oven door, then walk over and smack her right on the ass. She yelps as she turns around, allowing me to pull her into my arms. I slide my hands down to her ass and give it a soothing pat. Pulling one of my hands away from her luscious ass, I reach up and push her long dark hair to the side. I kiss the side of her neck, loving the way her body shivers against mine. When I reach the bottom of her ear, I pull her earlobe between my lips. My teeth sink into the tender flesh before letting go.
“I love these jeans, darlin’,” I say, brushing my lips over hers. “I’ll like them better when they’re pooled around your feet.”
She smacks her hand against my arm and pulls out of my hold. “You could be helping me get stuff ready for supper, instead of trying to cop a feel,” Hadley says while pushing my hands away with very little effort.
“I don’t give a shit about supper,” I reply with a cocky grin. “I’m thinking I should pull off those jeans and eat you instead.”
She blinks her eyes, but not before I see lust shining in them. “Your brother will be here soon, and your mom will be down at any moment.”
Mom has spent most of the last week locked away in her bedroom. When she does come down, things are tense. I haven’t seen her be outright rude to Hadley, but I have to wonder how she acts when I’m out on the farm. I love Mom. She gave me life, but I won’t have her treating my wife like shit.
She turns away from me and starts pulling plates out of the cabinet. “Can you get me the big yellow bowl from the top shelf of the pantry?”
I walk across the room, opening the door to the pantry, and grab the bowl. “Is this the one you’re wanting?”
She looks over her shoulder and nods. “Yeah. Set it on the counter, please. I want to put the salad in it.”
I do as she’s asked, then keep myself busy watching her. She moves around the kitchen as if she has been doing it for years. I can tell she enjoys cooking a hell of a lot more than Mom does. She’s got a toothy smile on her face and is humming softly as she shreds a head of lettuce. Her humming grows louder as she starts to cut up a tomato.
“You know you need to watch what you’re saying unless we’re in your bedroom,” she says as she dumps the tomato in the bowl.
“It’s our room,” I mumble, trying to remember what I said that she could be talking about. “If you’re referring to me wanting to eat your pussy on the counter, get over it. I plan to get a taste of you on every surface in this house.”
Hadley rolls her eyes, while a familiar blush covers her cheeks. “Your mother could hear you saying stuff like that and get the wrong idea about me.”
“You’re my wife. There’s nothing wrong with you letting me enjoy your body, whenever and wherever I want to,” I state, walking over to her and running a hand through her shining dark locks. “You could be a good wife and enjoy yourself while I do it.”
She steps away from me, grabbing an onion from the basket on the counter. “Tucker, I want your mom to like me. If she hears you talking that way or walks in on us doing something, that will never happen.”
I reach out to pull her into my arms again, but the sound of footsteps behind me has me looking over my shoulder. Mom comes to a stop a few feet from the refrigerator and glares at my wife. Her eyes soften when they come to me, but I can still see the anger swirling in their depths. For the first time, I realize that this may not be one of her typical fits. This time, she is truly pissed.
“Major just pulled up,” she says, her eyes back on Hadley. “I hope supper is done. I don’t like to keep my boys waiting.”
“I know.” My wife nods her head, starting to dice the onion. “It’ll be on the table by the time he gets inside. I promise.”
I don’t really know what in the hell is going on, but I know it’s not good. The tension flying off the two women is so thick, I have to fight to pull in a breath. Mom is staring daggers at Hadley’s back, while my wife keeps her eyes on the cutting board. Even though Hadley isn’t glaring back at her, I can tell she is feeling every bit as much anger as my mother.
“What in the world did you make?” Mom asks as she walks across the room to look at the pan sitting on the stove. “It looks like day old garbage.”
Before I can call my mother out for being a bitch, Hadley answers, “It’s called taco bake. As much as Tucker likes tacos, I’m sure he’ll love it.”
“We’ll see.” Mom lets out a disgruntled grunt and shakes her head. “Just so you know, my boys like plain old American food.”
“I’m sure it’s great,” I say to Hadley before looking to my mother. “If you don’t want to try it, you can go back up to your room.”
Hadley quits cutting the onion and jerks her eyes to me. “No, it’s fine. I’ll make her a sandwich or something.”
I cross my arms over my chest and glare at my mother. “If she wants a sandwich, she can make one for herself. Or she could quit being such an old bitty and try what you made.”
Mom narrows her eyes at me, sticking her nose in the air. Then, she turns around and leaves the room, without even asking if she can help set the table. I watch her walk away, a feeling of dread working its way through my body as I wonder if I missed something.
“Does she always talk to you like that?” I ask, hoping like hell her answer is no. “Does she treat you like shit when I’m not around?”
Dumping the onions in the bowl, she shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. We just need to give her a little time to get used to me.”
“Fuck that,” I say, pulling her into my arms. “She doesn’t get time for shit. This is your house, not hers. She’s a guest here, not you. If she can’t treat you with respect, my mother or not, she’s got to go.”
“This is her house. It was hers and your dad’s,” she states, looking confused. “We just live here with her.”
It’s my turn to be confused now, wondering where the hell she heard such bullshit. “Did she tell you that?”
“Not exactly,” she replies with a shrug. “She just told me that she used to share our bedroom with your dad when he was alive, and I should be thankful that she gave it up when we got married.”
Now, my anger is boiling over. I can’t believe my mother would lie to my wife, but I can tell Hadley is reciting the things told to her. My mother hasn’t slept in that bedroom in more years than I can count.
“My father slept in that bedroom until he died. I moved into it about three years ago,” I explain, trying to hide my anger. “Mom has had her own bedroom since I was just a kid. I don’t think she and Dad shared a room since Major was born.”
“Okay,” she murmurs then asks, “but the house is still hers, right?”
“It’s never been hers, not legally. This house has been in our family for generations, and it always passes down to the eldest son,” I say, cupping her face with my hands. “It became my house the day my dad died. Just like it will be our son’s the day I die.”
She blinks her eyes in confusion but doesn’t say anything. I can tell she wants me to explain things, but I’m not sure how to make it any clearer. That’s just the way it is, the way it has been since my great-great grandfather bought this land.
“When Dad inherited the farm, he bought some of the surrounding lands. That new land damn near doubled our acreage. When he died, he left it to Major and Gunnar,” I tell her, trying to make her understand. “The original farm is mine, just like it was my dad’s, and my granddad’s before his, and so on.”
She looks shocked as she asks, “So, he just left your mother homeless? Is that what’s gonna happen to me if you die before I do?”
“You will be taken care of, just like she was,” I say, running the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip. “Dad left her with enough money to do whatever in the hell she wants. She could move to Florida tomorrow and buy her a condo on the ocean. Hell, she could probably fly to England and get her a flat right in the middle of London.”
Even as I say the words, I have to wonder if they’re true. Mom has always had a problem with the ponies, a problem picking the wrong one. Where Dad trained horses for racing, Mom spent his money on betting who could go the fastest. The first few years he was gone, she spent a lot of time on the computer. I can only guess the majority of that time was betting on races.
“Oh, okay,” she mumbles before asking another question. “If that’s true, why does she still live here?”
I shake my head, trying to think of an answer that makes sense. “Maybe she’s lonely. Hell, I don’t really know.”
“It doesn’t matter. She’s your mother, and this has been her home for twenty-eight years.” She reaches up and pulls my hands from her face, giving them a tight squeeze. “Let’s give it a little time. I’m sure things will get better between us.”
Before I can reply, Major walks into the room and shouts, “Whatever in the hell you’re cooking, it smells fucking amazing.”
“Oh, no. I promised this would be ready before he got here.” Hadley jumps back and starts grabbing the plates. “We need to get it to the table before your mom gets upset.”
My brother looks at me, confusion filling his face. He cocks his brow in question, and I can do nothing more than shrug my shoulders. I don’t know anything more than I did when Mom walked out of the room. What I do know is I’ll be watching things more closely from here on out. If Mom doesn’t start showing my wife respect, she’ll be packing her bags.