"Tucker! Did you hear what I just said?"

He glanced up then and caught the eye of a businessman, briefcase in hand. The man looked at Tucker as if trying to put together a puzzle. And then like a light bulb went off, the man's expression changed. There was a clarity there. Interest. Knowing.

Tucker looked away and ran his hand behind his neck, searching in the bar for his brother.

"What are you saying, Kate?"

"Oh my G.o.d, Tucker. Turn on the television. It's all over the news."

Like one of those crazy zombies from the show that Abby loved so much, Tucker shuffled back into the bar, yanking on his tie-the d.a.m.n thing was too f.u.c.king tight-his eyes on the flat screen above Teague's head. He saw the headline, though the scrolling words, the details along the bottom were too far away for him to read.

"Missing wife of Tucker Simon, sports agent and one America's celebrated Simons', found alive and well in a hospital in Cuba."

Son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h.

Teague was walking toward him, his expression calm, though his eyes were dark and intense. When he spoke, it sounded as if Teague was down that G.o.dd.a.m.n hall in that s.h.i.+tty, sterile room, and his words tinny and sharp.

"Are you okay? Tucker?"

Tucker's eyes went back to the television. His wedding photo was now plastered across the screen. Face white, he stared up at it. Marley looked so young and seeing her up there hit him like a punch to the gut.

"I have to go," he mumbled. Jesus Christ, Marley was alive? How was that possible?

"Let me grab my jacket. I'm with you, brother. Hold on."

Aware that more than a few people were staring, Tucker walked to the window, his eyes on the snow. The clean, unspoiled white snow. It mesmerized him and he didn't look away until he felt Teague's hand on his shoulder.

"Where do you need to go?"

"I..." Tucker scrubbed at his eyes. "Abby..."

"Okay, we'll figure this out. I'm here, all right? I'll cancel Egypt and...." Teague's voice trailed off and Tucker turned around.

The first thing he saw were fire-engine red boots and a matching coat that touched the top of her knees. Long dark hair spilled across her shoulders and her face....

Christ, her face was so white that she looked like a ghost and her chest heaved as if she couldn't breathe. Abby took one look at him and her knees buckled.

"Hey," Tucker said roughly as he moved forward and caught her up in a fierce hug. He held her trembling body against his, angry that he'd somehow caused her pain. Crazy with fear that everything he had-everything that he loved-was going to slip away from him.

Again.

"It's true then?" Abby said, her words stilted as she s.h.i.+vered in his arms.

"I don't know," Tucker answered haltingly. "Jesus, Abigail, I don't f.u.c.king know."

Abby rocked into him. Did someone take their photo? Was that Teague telling someone off?

Tucker didn't know. He was trying his best not to freak the f.u.c.k out. All he could do was hold this woman because right here, right now, she was real. She was real and she had him. She had every bit of him, and he needed to let her know that. He wanted to let her know that.

So why couldn't he? What the f.u.c.k was wrong with him?

She made a noise and his heart turned over.

He could barely breathe and glanced at his brother helplessly. f.u.c.k, he hadn't felt this helpless since...since Marley.

As if the very thought of Marley was enough to do it, an image of her smiling up at him, face flushed, eyes sparkling, hit him like hammer against stone. It was so real that for a moment he could smell the ocean. Feel the sun. He could feel Marley.

Startled, he shook his head. Disorientated.

"Tucker?" Abby croaked, sounding so small.

"I don't know if it's true," he repeated, not knowing what else to say.

A heartbeat pa.s.sed.

"Well, then," Abby replied, raising her face to him, her hands clutched to his suit jacket. "I guess you better find out."

Chapter Twenty-four.

Sometime later, when Lisa stroked her hair as the two of them cuddled on the sofa and asked her if she was all right, Abby replied, yes. When her brother Mick dropped by with a pot of soup made fresh by Dani, their cook at The Black Dog, and he asked her how she was doing, she'd told him that she was fine.

Heck, when her mother called and told her that she and her father would be on the first flight back from Arizona, Abby had told her no. She'd told her mother that she was good and would feel awful if they cut their stay short.

Her mother had protested, but Abby insisted they not come and told her that she'd call when she had news. Her mother asked one more time if she was fine and once more Abby said that, yes, she was good.

But the truth of it was, Abby Mathews was nowhere near good.

The truth of it was, Abby Mathews was so close to losing her s.h.i.+t, big time, that the fear of losing her s.h.i.+t is what kept her teetering on that edge. She was so close and yet she refused to give in.

It had only been a few hours since the Marley Simon story had hit the news. Hours since her world had imploded. Since Tucker had brought her back to their place...the home she now shared with him.

Hours since Tucker had kissed her. He'd held her close and whispered that things were going to be okay.

But there were so many questions. Questions that she wanted to ask. Questions that she was afraid to.

And so she said nothing. She'd sat on the edge of their bed and watched as he changed into a pair of jeans and an old Duke University hoodie. Said nothing as he rummaged for his pa.s.sport, though she kissed him softly when she found it in the top drawer of the dresser in his closet. It had been clipped together with hers, along with two tickets to Costa Rica.

Costa Rica. And yet she said nothing.

She kept the tears away when he slipped into the worn leather jacket that she loved so much and shoved his feet into the Doc's he'd worn that first time he'd shown up at her apartment.

Abby tried to appear calm when he called his in-laws, though inside she was breaking. She made tea while they discussed getting a special license that would enable them to fly into Havana, though Tucker's twin was all over that.

Abby tried not to be resentful of the fact that Tucker's twin was all over that.

But she was. She was resentful and hurt and scared as h.e.l.l.

In the nearly twenty-four hours since Tucker had left with his brother, she'd only had one brief conversation with him. A quick call to tell her that they'd secured the license they needed and would fly to Montreal and then to Cuba.

She'd sat alone in the middle of their bed, holding the phone so tightly that her knuckles were white.

"You sound tired," she'd said.

"I am."

Silence.

"Your brother is with you?"

"Yeah. Teague's here and so is Jack, thank G.o.d."

More silence. It was the silence that spoke volumes. The silence that was filled with heavy things. It was the silence that she hated and the silence that scared her the most.

"Okay," she'd managed to say. "Call me when you...when..."

"I will. I'll call you when I know."

Her throat had closed up and even if by some miracle, she could speak, at that moment she had nothing. She had nothing but a boatload of words that she couldn't articulate and a truckload of fear pressing into her chest.

"Abby, things will be okay. I hate that you have to go through this, but I promise you...I...I...s.h.i.+t. I don't know what I'm trying to say."

What? Say it! Please, oh G.o.d please say it...

"It's okay." But it wasn't okay. G.o.d, it was so not okay.

"I have to go, Abby. Our charter is ready."

Click.

"I love you," she'd whispered.

>A knock at the door brought Abby out of the funk that had settled over her the night before. She'd barely slept. Had crawled into bed, snuggled into Tucker's pillow, chest tight as she inhaled his scent.

After a while, she'd given up and tried the sofa but again sleep had pretty much alluded her. All she could think about was Marley. And Tucker. Marley and Tucker. Where the h.e.l.l did Abby figure into all of that?

She thought about it until her nerves were so shot, until her body trembled so badly, that she ran to the bathroom and was sick. Never had she felt so alone. So pathetic and helpless and just...alone.

Maybe I should have let Lisa stay.

Again the knock sounded and sliding off the sofa, Abby tugged her bathrobe together and swung open the door, thinking it most likely was Lisa or one of her brothers.

It wasn't Lisa. Or any one of her brothers.

"Jesus, you look like you need a drink." Cooper Simon held aloft an amber bottle and winked, his blue eyes electric as he gazed down at her. "Good thing I was in the neighborhood."

Abby shook her head and winced. Every part of her ached. "You're crazy. It's not even noon yet."

"But it's sure as h.e.l.l four o'clock somewhere."

"That's lame," she shot back.

"True, but it's all I got." Cooper's eyes softened. "And darlin' you need something stronger than coffee right about now. So are you going to let me in or what?"

Abby hadn't seen Cooper since Christmas Eve in Florida, and as much as he pushed a lot of her b.u.t.tons, there was something sweet and lost about him. This man had been hurt. This man knew what was going on inside her.

"Are you going to promise to just be normal? No jokes. No innuendos. And if you try and grab my a.s.s-"

Cooper pushed his way past her, dropping a quick kiss onto her cheek. "Jesus. You're taking all the fun out of this."

Abby closed the door behind her. "I mean it, Cooper. I'm not up to it."

Cooper tossed his coat over the sofa and set down what looked to be a very expensive bottle of scotch on the table in the kitchen.

"Glen Livet?" she asked moving toward him.

"Is there anything else?" He arched an eyebrow. "Neat or over ice?"

"Ice please." Abby settled on one of the stools and when Cooper was done pouring their drinks, raised her gla.s.s and had her first bit of nourishment for the day. She let the liquid burn down her throat, liking that it melted away the numbness.

After taking a second drink, she set the tumbler back down and glanced up at Cooper.

His eyes were intense, his mouth set tight.

"How are you doing, kid?"

Abby wasn't sure what it was. The tone of his voice. The look in his eyes. The fact that she was functioning on less than three hours sleep or the fact that her heart was so bruised it hurt. Who knew?

All she did know was that the ball of fear inside her suddenly expanded. It retracted and then split wide open.

And then came the tears. Oh G.o.d, the tears. It was an ugly cry.

Cooper had her in his arms, face pressed to his chest before the first teardrop slid off her face. He held her for what seemed like hours and when she was done, her face was swollen, and her voice was hoa.r.s.e.

She'd told Cooper pretty much everything. Her feelings. Her love for Tucker. And her fear of losing him. She even told Cooper that one thing she hadn't shared with anybody...not even her best friend, Lisa.

Cooper now knew that those three little words had never been uttered. And he knew how scared she was.

Eventually, she pulled herself together and moved out of his embrace. She should have been embarra.s.sed. Abby didn't do the big, epic breakdown. It just wasn't her.