"Ah, s.h.i.+t. Really?" Rick said with a frown. "Sonya Devonish? That's real? And here I thought TMZ had it all wrong. You know because they get so much s.h.i.+t right."

Irritated, Tucker glared across the table at Betty Jo. "Jesus Christ. Why the h.e.l.l is everyone interested in my f.u.c.king s.e.x life?"

"I didn't say anything about s.e.x," Betty shot back. "You did."

Ignoring Betty, he focused on Rick. "I'm not here with Sonya Devonish."

"No," Betty b.u.t.ted in, "You're not."

Tucker loved Betty Jo-he really did-but right now he'd love it if she would just shut the h.e.l.l up.

"Trust me, Abby Matthews is not my girlfriend. She's just a..."

He was so p.i.s.sed off he couldn't even get the words out. He hated when everyone was focused on him. Always had. And ever since Marley it had gotten worse.

"She's just a what?" Rick prompted.

"You know," Tucker said. "She's just..."

G.o.d, he wanted to smack that look off Betty's face. The girl was a s.h.i.+t disturber if he'd ever seen one. How the h.e.l.l did Beau put up with that c.r.a.p?

"She's hot," Betty piped in, as if reading his mind.

Tucker glared at her now. "She's not hot. She's just a girl who works in a bar all right? Nothing more. I barely know her."

Betty's eyes went wide as she looked behind him, and the hairs on the back of his neck told him that he'd crossed a line. h.e.l.l, if he was reading the situation right, he'd more than crossed a line-he'd f.u.c.king jumped over it.

"Tucker's right. We're just casual friends. Nothing more."

f.u.c.k. Me .

There was a tone in Abby's voice, and it was one he recognized. It was the same tone she used for the losers in the bar when they got a little too familiar and p.i.s.sed her off.

Abby paused a few inches away and d.a.m.n if his heart didn't start to race at the sight of her. The clothes he'd had Betty grab in the pro-shop fit her like a glove-a cream sleeveless top tucked into black shorts that showed off those fine legs of hers. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, the color was high on her cheeks and her mouth was glossy and wet looking.

Her eyes though, they told a different story. G.o.d, he hadn't finished breakfast yet and already he was in trouble. That had to be some kind of record, even for Tucker.

"Well he sure as h.e.l.l is wrong about one thing," Rick said with a smile as he stood and glanced down at Abby. "You're definitely hot."

"Think so?" Abby replied without missing a beat. Which made sense. The girl was used to dealing with flirty types every single s.h.i.+ft at the bar. Tucker had watched her in action for the last year.

"d.a.m.n right I do," Maverick replied with a wink.

Rick motioned for her to take the seat he'd just vacated, and Tucker glared at Betty Jo while Abby slid in beside him.

"I'm Maverick Simon, but everyone calls me Rick, you know, cuz Maverick is a mouthful."

"Maverick? That's a different name." Abby poured herself a gla.s.s of orange juice and turned slightly so that she faced Rick and not Tucker.

"You can thank his mother for that one," Beau said with a grin. "She's had a lifelong obsession with Tom Cruise and fighter pilots ever since Top Gun. I'm Beau, by the way, and I guess you've already met Betty."

Abby had to turn back in order to look at Beau properly, and Tucker watched as the blush in her cheeks deepened. "It's nice to meet you," she said softly.

G.o.d, here we go. The Beau Simon effect is what he called it. His brother smiled and their panties got all knotted up and twisted. Normally it didn't bother him, he knew it was the whole celebrity thing-the celebrity thing that was over and above just being a Simon. But right now? It p.i.s.sed him off.

"So, what time are we teeing off?" Tucker asked, pus.h.i.+ng his chair back. He wasn't in the mood to eat and he sure as h.e.l.l wasn't in the mood to watch Rick salivate over Abby or Abby get all gun-shy around his brother.

What he wanted to do was to get Abby alone so he could explain why he was being such a d.i.c.k. He needed to make her understand that the stupid s.h.i.+t coming out of his mouth was just...stupid c.r.a.p that didn't mean anything. So he wasn't exactly sure why he was being such an a.s.shole-he was quick on the draw-he'd figure it out.

"Man, we gotta go," Rick said, glancing at his watch. "I'm teeing off in twenty minutes, and you guys are right behind us."

"Who're you buddying up with?" Tucker asked.

Rick got to his feet. "Your brother Jack and..." He scratched his chin, eyebrows raised. "Chloe?"

"No," Beau replied. "Chloe's like three months ago."

"Huh, I missed that crash and burn. Who's he seeing these days?" Rick asked.

"Monique Patterson," Beau and Tucker said together. Monique-or Mo as Tuck and Beau liked to call her mostly because she didn't like it-was the heir to a ma.s.sive communications company. She was born and bred in the Hamptons, came from a lot of money and spent most of her time working on various committees and charities. A spitting image of her French mother, she was educated, beautiful in a cool, reserved kind of way, more than halfway sn.o.bbish and perfect for an up-and-coming politician.

She was also boring as h.e.l.l, and Tucker was glad he wasn't in their foursome.

"Ah, s.h.i.+t," Rick murmured and Tucker couldn't help but grin.

"Who's your partner?" Tucker asked as he too got to his feet and moved back a few inches so that Abby could follow suit.

Rick's eyes followed Abby, and, irritated, Tucker's voice was maybe a tad too loud. But he couldn't help it. He hadn't brought Abby all the way to Florida so his cousin could get all up in her business. Ogle her like she was a piece of meat or something.

"Maverick?" he goaded, knowing Rick hated his full name.

But there was no hating going on in Rick's world. Nope. With his eyes still on Abby, drifting low to that round, s.e.xy b.u.t.t, he grinned. "I'm golfing with Cooper."

Tucker heard Beau m.u.f.fle a laugh and the irritation inside him pretty much tripled.

Jesus. H. Christ. How in the h.e.l.l was he going to survive this day?

"Let's go," he said to Abby, placing his hand on the small of her back so that he could guide her toward the pro-shop and out to the greens.

Cooper Simon was Rick's younger brother and like just Rick, Cooper was a pain in the a.s.s.

But he was a pain in the a.s.s who just happened to be the biggest man-wh.o.r.e this side of the Mason-Dixie line. Cooper was as pretty as Beau, but when it came to the ladies, he had no heart. He'd always had a callous disregard for women and had a fondness for brunettes, or blondes or redheads-h.e.l.l, he'd take anyone for that matter-especially when they belonged to someone else.

Cooper would be all over Abby.

Just f.u.c.king lovely.

Chapter Six.

By the sixth hole Abby was somewhat relaxed-or as relaxed as she was ever going to get, for the time being. It was hard to keep things even-keel when all she could think about was how Tucker had dismissed their relations.h.i.+p as...as less than casual. As if she was nothing more than a body to accompany him to a wedding so he wasn't the pathetic loser there by himself.

"She's not hot." Ouch.

She couldn't lie. It hurt like h.e.l.l to hear him say that.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, "She's just a girl who works in a bar all right? Nothing more. I barely know her."

That comment p.i.s.sed her off. Barely knew her. Barely knew her?

They'd seen each other at least twice a week for the entire last year. Spent hours talking about nothing and everything. Tucker knew that she secretly loved country music, even though her brothers were bona fide rockers and her parents were still trapped in the 80's with a love of Bon Jovi and Motely Crue. He knew that she hated peas, loved carrots and that she had a stash of books she'd never returned to the library.

G.o.d, she'd even told him about Jason Bentley and the G.o.d awful crush that had led directly to her losing her virginity in the stockroom of the family bar.

It had been a mess. Her oldest brother, Mick, had forced his way in after the momentous event, and she'd been left with the imprint of a case of Guinness on her a.s.s and Jason's scared face as he'd run out the back, barely getting his jeans on.

Jason Bentley had called her a few times after that but didn't have the b.a.l.l.s to face her brother again. End of story.

As Abby settled in to T-off, she glanced up and caught sight of Tucker watching her. He stood a few feet back with his brother Beau, and Betty Jo. All three of them watched her, expectant looks on their faces.

Tucker offered a smile.

She narrowed her eyes, lingered just long enough for him to know she was still p.i.s.sed, and then looked down at the ball.

He sighed.

She glanced back up at him.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and grimaced as Betty Jo said something that Abby was too far away to hear.

Abby relaxed her wrists and focused on her pretty neon pink golf ball. She stared at it for a few seconds, inhaled, then swung her driver back, nice and easy like-as if she was opening a door-and drove the ball over two hundred yards down the middle of the fairway.

"Wow! Great shot, Abby," Beau said with a wide grin. "Man, you whacked that ball harder than most guys I know."

Abby slid her driver back into her golf bag and shrugged, her smile sweet as sugar pie. "You just need the right technique and sometimes a little motivation helps."

"Yeah?" Beau said with a grin. "What's your motivation?"

Betty Jo snorted and elbowed Tucker in the ribs, who scowled in response and said something not fit for the golf course.

"I just pictured Tucker's face on the ball and went for it."

Betty's snort ended in a full bodied laugh as she tugged on Beau's hand and propelled him toward their cart. "I knew I was going to like her."

Abby walked around the cart she shared with Tucker and slid onto her seat, waiting for him to join her.

"Nice shot," he said as they started down the fairway.

She didn't reply because her throat was suddenly so tight she didn't think that she could. She fingered the cracked T she'd just used, palming it and looking pretty much anywhere other than in Tucker's general direction.

Beau and Betty Jo were several yards ahead of them, speeding toward Betty's bright orange ball when all of a sudden Tucker brought their cart to an abrupt halt.

"Jesus, Tucker." She glared at him, throat suddenly clear. "Maybe I should drive."

He took a moment and when he spoke he sounded calm, though his hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white and she knew he was as riled as she was.

"Can we talk about this?"

She didn't have to ask what this was because this had been festering since breakfast.

"Right now?" she asked incredulously. "You want to talk about this right now?"

He nodded, eyes dark as he stared her down. "Yeah. I do. I get it. I was a d.i.c.k last night and this morning..."

"Last night you were a d.i.c.k, but this morning you were an outright a.s.shole and out of the two, I prefer the d.i.c.k." She gulped, cheeks bright. "And I know what I just said, so shut up."

Tucker sighed and leaned back in the seat, his eyes on his brother and girlfriend as Betty Jo argued with Beau-loudly-about what club to use. Betty was thinking the nine iron while Beau was gently suggesting she needed something with more power considering her drive had barely made fifty yards.

Abby followed his gaze and felt a flutter inside her when Beau leaned down and stopped whatever the heck Betty was trying to say with his mouth. He kissed her slowly as if he was taking his time to taste every little bit of her that he could, his hands cupping the sides of her face as if she was something to be cherished.

Something he couldn't live without.

The flutter expanded, leeching into her chest painfully. G.o.d, how Abby wanted that with someone.

Who the h.e.l.l was she kidding? d.i.c.k or a.s.shole or whatever, she wanted that with Tucker.

"I didn't mean what I said earlier." Tucker said roughly and she turned away from his brother, cheeks heated and heart still flopping around like a rubber chicken. Boing. Boing. Boing.

Tucker was watching her, his dark eyes soft, tugging on something inside of Abby. Something attached to her stupid, bouncing rubber chicken of a heart. How the h.e.l.l did he do that? With just one look?

"I just...my family has always been real hands-on, if you know what I mean. They like to be in my business." He frowned and shook his head. "No, that's wrong. They need to be up in my business, but sometimes it's too much."

Abby got that. She had six brothers, so h.e.l.l yeah she got that.

"They're just looking out for you, Tucker. That's what friends and family do. They care about you, and sometimes that kind of love gets messy."

"I know. Of course I know that, but it's so G.o.dd.a.m.n suffocating at times. After Marley, it got worse. I didn't need Beau calling me ten times a day to make sure I showered or my brother Teague dropping by for breakfast, lunch, and freaking dinner, because he didn't think I'd be responsible enough to eat. I didn't need Mom coming by to do my laundry or Dad trying to get me out for a round of golf or to watch a game."

"I didn't need it. I would have survived on my own." He exhaled slowly. "But I took it...because that's what they do...that's who my family is. They're loud and opinionated and every single one of them would go to the wall for me, you know? But it's not about that anymore. It's about other s.h.i.+t. It's about my mom freaking out because she thinks I'm going to turn into a guy who sits in his apartment by himself for days, watching p.o.r.n and ordering pizza every night. h.e.l.l, she was ready to order me up a prost.i.tute, because she thinks I haven't been laid in forever."

"Guess she's not up on the parade of Barbie dolls you've brought into my bar," Abby said softly.