CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TUCKER COULDN’T TAKE his eyes off Gabrielle’s breasts. He hadn’t come to her house with any lascivious intent. He’d been searching only for sanctuary. But then he’d seen her with that sheet wrapped around her and nothing but bare skin beneath, and his body had immediately reminded him that it had been two long years since he’d appeased his sexual appetites.
She was dressed now in a yellow tank top and a pair of cutoffs, but she still wasn’t wearing a bra and the change hardly made the situation any easier on him. Every time she moved, her full breasts swayed gently, reminding him of that brief moment in the desert when he’d cupped them in his palms and tasted her sweetness. The memory caused every muscle in his body to tense. Like that sunrise he’d witnessed on the first morning of his freedom, he found Gabrielle’s body breathtaking, almost sacred, certainly nothing to be taken for granted. He wanted to caress her, to excite her in small degrees and work up from there until…
She turned to ask him how he liked his eggs, and he immediately yanked his attention to the glass of water she’d given him.
“Over easy is fine,” he muttered.
She went back to cooking, and he let his eyes return to her, admiring the tone of her legs, the perfect curve of her buttocks….
“Orange or apple juice?” she asked, catching him looking at her again.
He dragged his gaze up to meet her eyes. “Pardon?”
“What would you like to drink?”
“Coffee’s fine,” he said, even though he’d basically lived on coffee and caffeine-laden soft drinks for the past few days and felt as though they’d burn a hole through his stomach.
“When’s the last time you had something solid to eat?”
Tucker couldn’t remember. He’d used the pay phone when he’d stopped to buy Landon a Happy Meal and had accidentally left his own sack of food in the booth. When he realized what he’d done, he’d driven too far to go back and hadn’t wanted to risk stopping again. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” She seemed genuinely distraught. “You’ve got to eat, or you’ll never get through this.”
Why did she care whether he survived? She might believe he was innocent of Andrea’s murder, but he was just some poor sucker she’d met in prison. She’d already done far more for him than simple compassion would dictate. She should have demanded he get out of her house; instead she was standing at the stove making him breakfast as though he wasn’t an escaped convict who’d just broken into her trailer!
“Why do you keep helping me?” he asked suddenly.
“Aren’t you hungry?” She turned again, surprise apparent on her face.
“That’s not what I meant. You shouldn’t have let me in.”
“I didn’t let you in.”
“You shouldn’t have let me stay.”
“Why not?”
Because she got to him, that was why. Her beauty tied his stomach in knots, and her goodness and idealism attracted his beleaguered soul, like a beacon giving light to the darkness. He knew how jaded and bitter he’d become. The comparison between them showed him more than he wanted to see, made him resent her at the same time he was tempted to love her. Maybe part of her appeal lay in the hope that he could reclaim the innocence of his former self by possessing her in some way. “I could be dangerous,” he said.
She folded her arms across her flat stomach. “You could’ve murdered me while we were in the desert. Then you wouldn’t have had to dispose of my body.”
“I’m not talking about murder.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“Maybe I want more than you’re willing to give me.”
She put his food on a plate and brought it to the table, coming so close as she set it in front of him that her left breast nearly grazed his cheek.
Tucker leaned away quickly to avoid contact, but she only grinned and reached across him to get the saltshaker. “Your eggs might need a little more seasoning,” she said, and this time as she moved, her breast did touch him. It brushed his arm, sending a jolt of pure testosterone through his veins.
He held himself perfectly still until he could regain control. “Don’t provoke me, Gabrielle,” he warned, his voice as menacing as possible. “You might get more than you’re asking for.”
“Would that be so bad?” she said.
“I’m not the man I once was,” he tried to explain.
“Then maybe we should find out who you are now.” Her hands settled on his shoulders and began to knead his tired muscles, and her touch went to his head like half a bottle of tequila. He said nothing as her fingers eased the tension in his back; he wasn’t sure he could speak. But then she shifted, and his peripheral vision told him he had only to turn his head to take her nipple into his mouth….
With a groan, he shoved her away. “Don’t.”
She stared at him for several seconds without moving. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You don’t want me?”
“No,” he snapped. “I’m not interested.”
“That’s funny. You sure look interested.” She arched an eyebrow as she eyed his lap.
“Don’t push it, Gabrielle.”
“Why?”
Because he wanted her too badly. Because he feared the messy emotions she inspired. Absolute control was the only thing powerful enough to see him through the nightmare that had become his life. If he lowered his defenses now, he might simply come apart in her arms. “Believe me, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I think I do.” Stepping forward, she placed a sweet kiss on his temple. He closed his eyes against the lonely ache the tenderness of that simple action engendered.
“I know you’ve been to hell and back, Tucker,” she whispered. “I’m guessing any real intimacy at this point scares you to death. But I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to make love with you, to feel you naked against me, moving inside me. I want to touch you and be touched by you and forget that anything else even exists.”
Her words turned his heart into a jackhammer, the pounding so loud it seemed to echo in his ears. But he refused to allow himself to respond as he wanted to. “What? Are you one of those women who get off on having sex with the worst of the worst?” he asked, striving to drive a wedge between them.
His words succeeded in surprising her, and she stepped back. A small voice in Tucker’s head told him he was crazy to throw away what she’d just offered him. The other part understood that if he made love to her, it would be almost impossible to get up and walk away in the morning, knowing she’d probably go on to marry someone else. He had nothing to offer her, wasn’t sure he ever would, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. She deserved more. Shutting her out was the kindest thing he could do.
“I think you know better,” she said.
“I don’t know anything. I’m only after a meal and a good night’s sleep,” he said. “That’s all.”
The look on her face tested the limits of his willpower. He could barely keep from reaching out and pulling her into his arms. He longed to assure her that she hadn’t misread the signs his body was sending her, that he did want her. So badly…But such an admittance would only weaken his defenses, and he was determined not to destroy her life.
“Fine,” she said quietly. She got him some blankets from the closet at the end of the hall, walked into the living room and made him a bed on the couch.
* * *
TUCKER WAS DEAD TIRED and still he couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep, and yet he couldn’t go down the hall to join Gabrielle. He was pacing a hole in the carpet in front of the sofa, torn between the belief that he’d done the right thing and the temptation to forget about the right thing altogether.
He’d been insane to come here, he decided. And yet he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. He’d scarcely been able to think of anything or anyone besides Gabrielle since he watched her drive away with David after they’d emerged from the desert.
David…The thought of Gabrielle’s ex-husband and the close relationship that still existed between them bothered Tucker as though he had some stake in the situation, something to lose. But of course he didn’t….
A noise at the back of the trailer brought Tucker to a standstill. Suddenly alert, he listened for the sound to be repeated, then heaved a sigh of relief when he recognized a baby’s soft gurgle. It was nothing to worry about. Allie was awake; that was all.
Tucker wondered if Gabrielle could hear her daughter. He guessed she couldn’t when the door to her bedroom remained firmly closed. If he waited long enough, he was sure Allie would begin to cry and Gabrielle would come for her. But there seemed little point in waking Gabrielle when he was already awake.
Hesitating for only a moment, he strode to the baby’s bedroom. He’d seen Allie in the car the same day he’d met David, but he’d been beyond thirst and hunger then and living on nerves. He’d hardly given the child a glance. But what he remembered was a chubby baby with a pink, bowlike mouth and blond flyaway hair, and that was exactly what he found. Sitting in her crib, chewing on a couple of fingers, Allie gave him her full attention the moment he stepped into the room. Evidently she’d been waiting for someone to come. She probably couldn’t remember him from their brief encounter, but that didn’t seem to matter. She immediately grabbed the slats of her crib, pulled herself to her feet and gave him a gap-toothed grin so full of trust he couldn’t help returning it.
“Da…da…da…” She stomped her feet and held out her arms to him, as though morning had arrived and she was ready to be set free for the day.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Tucker said. He’d been through this with Landon. If he took her out of her crib, she’d never go back to sleep.
“Are you hungry, babe?” He looked through her bedding and found an empty milk bottle. Holding it, he started to leave, but she began to cry the second he moved toward the door.
“Shh, don’t cry, Allie. I’ll be right back, okay? Look, I’m going to fix you another bottle.”
“Ba…ba…ba,” she replied. He’d gained her approval there, but the quiver of her lip and the tears glistening in her eyes indicated she’d only cry again if he left her.
He gauged his chances of preparing the bottle and returning before she awakened the whole house, and didn’t deem them very good. Not only that, if Gabrielle came out of her bedroom now, he wouldn’t be able to let her return alone. Not a second time. And not if she was still wearing that T-shirt and those damn shorts….
He considered the alternative. Maybe Allie wasn’t like Landon. Maybe she’d go back to sleep even if he got her out for a few minutes. Or maybe it wasn’t even a bottle she wanted. She could be wet.
Her smile reappeared the instant he moved toward her again, and he laughed softly at how easily she’d manipulated him. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s change your diaper. Then we’ll make that bottle I promised you.”
Allie was definitely as soft as she looked, and she smelled of baby shampoo and baby powder. Tucker decided he liked those scents almost as much as the little-boy smells that clung to Landon. His son was now eight years old, but Tucker remembered his diapering days well. That was before Andrea had gotten so caught up in the lifestyle she’d been living at the end, before he realized his marriage would probably end in divorce.
A changing table took up part of one wall. Allie waited patiently while Tucker laid her down and used the supply of paper diapers on the shelf beneath to change her. The receptacle next to the changing table made a small clang when he disposed of the wet diaper, but the rest of the house remained quiet.
So far, so good. Except that Gabrielle’s daughter didn’t seem sleepy at all. She clapped her hands and squirmed for him to pick her up before he could get her pajamas back in place.
“Just a minute, babe. I’m a little rusty and this cast isn’t helping much,” he told her, struggling to manage the snaps on her Winnie the Pooh one-piece.
She jammed one fist in her mouth as he carried her from the room, and he wondered what Hansen and the others would think if they could see him now. No doubt they expected him to be on the run, heading for the border or hiding in Phoenix or some other place big enough to get lost in a crowd. Instead he was right across the street from the prison, getting a fresh bottle for Gabrielle’s baby.
His smile disappeared as the irony of it gave way to an awareness of everyone’s horrified reaction. No one would believe a baby to be safe around him. According to the papers, the police feared for his own son’s well-being. Because of that one bogus trial, that one dreadful travesty of justice, everyone assumed the worst, even though he’d never hurt a woman or a child in his life and never would.
Now, a man was a different story. Tucker thought if he ever got his hands on Hansen, he’d hurt him pretty badly. That was where he’d changed. He’d learned hate, and he’d begun to crave vengeance.
Allie tried to share her wet fist with him. As he moved her hand away, he purposely turned his mind from those dark thoughts to the beautiful baby in his arms. Gabrielle was lucky. She’d soon forget about him, marry again, have more children, live a normal life.
He wanted those things for her, even though he wasn’t the one who could give them to her. He wanted those things badly enough to sleep on the couch.
* * *
GABRIELLE WOKE with a start. Her heart hammered in competition with the chug of the swamp cooler, and the morning sun glared harshly through her blinds, yet it was only six o’clock.
“Jeez, how could it be so hot already?” she muttered.
Damp with sweat, she rolled over and stared at her closed door as everything that had happened the night before came tumbling back to her. Deep down, she’d believed Tucker would eventually join her. She knew she couldn’t have imagined the way his eyes had devoured her, the hunger she saw in them. Nearly every time she looked at him, she’d caught him staring at her. But he’d remained on the couch—unless he’d already slipped out of her trailer as quietly as he’d slipped in.
Or maybe the whole encounter had been a dream.
She kicked away the sheet and sat up, putting a hand to her head. Too little sleep and too much stress had combined to give her a terrible headache.
At least she wouldn’t feel guilty when she called in sick, she thought. She was supposed to report to Eyman Complex in just a few hours, but she couldn’t go anywhere if Tucker left Landon with her.
Standing, she shoved a hand through her hair and shuffled toward the hall. She needed to find out if Tucker was still around. And she wanted to check on Allie. Last night had seemed so long it was almost surreal. It felt like days since she’d seen her daughter.
She glanced in to Landon’s room, just to be certain he wasn’t a figment of her imagination, and discovered him sleeping peacefully, which answered one question.
When she reached the kitchen, she saw the frying pan she’d used to make Tucker’s eggs in the dish drainer. In the living room, she found the T-shirt he’d been wearing tossed onto her vinyl recliner and his sandals at the foot of her couch—all further proof that she hadn’t dreamed a thing. Not that she needed incidental proof anymore. Tucker was still there, big as life, sleeping on her couch. And Allie was with him.
Gabrielle’s heart melted at the sight of the man she loved holding her baby. He’d seemed so hardened in prison, so powerful and dangerous. But he looked almost boyish now, with his hair mussed and his face softened in sleep. Allie lay on her belly, her cheek to his bare chest, sleeping comfortably if appearances were anything to judge by, and Gabrielle was so moved by the sight she went for her camera. She knew it was stupid to want to preserve this moment. A photograph would only prove her guilty of aiding and abetting his escape. But she had to have something to hold on to because she couldn’t hold on to him.
The flash woke Tucker. His blue eyes opened and focused on her immediately. Then his brows gathered in a scowl. “Give me that,” he whispered, trying not to wake Allie, who stirred anyway.
“No,” Gabrielle said.
“You can’t have a picture of me sleeping in your house, Gabby. You shouldn’t have a photograph of me at all.”
He’d torn David out of one of her pictures and then taken the photo with him. “You have a picture of me.”
Allie raised her head and grinned sleepily at Gabrielle. Gabrielle lifted her baby into her arms and kissed her soft cheek, trying not to let her eyes linger on Tucker’s broad chest. He’d rebuffed her once. She had no intention of asking for a second rejection.
“That’s different,” he said, the muscles in his arm bunching as he leaned up on one elbow. “That’s an old picture, and it doesn’t prove anything except that we crossed paths, which Hansen and the others already know.”
“So? You have to leave me with something,” she said. “I can’t go through everything we’ve been through and walk away empty-handed.”
He seemed to consider her answer. Surprisingly he dropped the subject. “I’ve got to go. Can I use your shower?”
The thought of all six-foot-something of him naked in her shower made Gabrielle’s cheeks flush. “Of course. I’ll get you a towel.”
She turned and headed down the hall and could hear him following barefoot behind her. “Do you need me to wash some clothes for you while you’re gone?” she asked.
They’d entered her bedroom, and he didn’t answer. He glanced around, taking in the worn and dated furnishings.
For the first time, Gabrielle wished she’d tried harder to make this place a home. “I’m only staying here temporarily until I can afford something better,” she explained.
He rested one shoulder against the wall and folded his arms. “David seemed like a successful guy. Why did you leave him for this? For working in a damn prison?”
Gabrielle folded her arms, too. “You know why. I already told you.”
“You also said you love him.”
“I said I didn’t love him in the right way.”
“So? What does that really mean? Maybe I’ve never loved anyone in the right way.”
“You said it last night, Tucker. The right way is loving so much it sometimes hurts. It’s loving another person so much you’d sooner stop breathing than stop loving them.”
“Why can’t you love David like that?”
Gabrielle didn’t know why. She’d always liked him, admired him. But it was as if her soul was holding out, secretly yearning for the one man who could complete her. And now she’d found him. She knew she couldn’t have him, but there was still no chance for her and David. Not after loving Tucker, not after proving to herself that the emotional depths she’d imagined were not only real but possible—even for her. “There’s no explanation for some things, Tucker.” She frowned. “Why are you pushing me toward David?”
He ran a finger lightly down her cheek, his touch filling Gabrielle with the same longing she’d felt last night—to be significant to him in the most fundamental way, to join with him and share her body, her heart, her life. “Because I want you safe. Even from me.”
Meeting the icy blue of his eyes, she covered his hand with her own and nestled her cheek against his palm. “I’m not afraid of you, Tucker. I’m in love with you.”
The look on his face told her how unexpected her words were. She watched as several emotions gripped him—first and foremost, an obvious desire to believe her. For a brief moment she felt his fingers tighten as though he’d give in and pull her toward him. But then the opposing emotion—“I can’t get hurt if I don’t let myself need anyone”—seemed to win out, and he moved away.
“I’m sorry, Gabby. I can’t allow myself to care about you,” he said. “I can’t even stay more than a couple of days. Don’t sell yourself so short.”
Taking the towel she handed him, he stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, and Gabrielle let her breath go in a long sigh. So much for avoiding rejection a second time.