Page 11 of Tucker

He would have liked to discuss it more, but she pulled into his driveway and the dog took priority.

Later though—like maybe sometime in the light of day, with other people around and his control locked firmly into place—he’d ask her about her lack of boyfriends, the number of kisses she’d had in her lifetime and exactly what message she’d gotten from him.

He had a feeling she’d drawn some wrong conclusions. That might be for the best, all things considered, but he couldn’t let her think he didn’t want her.

He did, and he didn’t mind her knowing—as long as she understood that nothing would come of it.

* * *

KADYSHOWEDUPbright and early the next morning after not sleeping a wink all night. All through the remainder of the evening, she’d worried about the dog and her puppies, fretted over Tucker’s injured arm and relived—repeatedly—that kiss.

Bright sunshine promised a scorching, humid day. After the rain the night before, everything was so green. Vivid, beautiful green.

She loved Buckhorn, the people, the mature landscape, the wide-open skies. Even the vacationers.

Most of all she loved Tucker...not that the butthead ever noticed.

As she went up the drive, his house, nestled in the tall shade trees, looked quiet. It was an older home located midway between town and the large vacation lake. His lot was bigger than some, but still sitting smack-dab in the middle of the neighborhood with neighbors on both sides and behind him.

Had he gotten any sleep? Had his arm pained him, or the dog kept him awake?

Had he thought of her? Of their kiss?

Kady wrinkled her nose in doubt and, bypassing the front porch, went around to the side door that opened into his kitchen. She didn’t mean to overstep; most people in the area went to the kitchen door to visit. As she passed the breakfast-room window, lacy curtains—probably left by a previous owner, which would make them years old—fluttered and she caught glimpses of Tucker moving around.

In his boxers and nothing else.

He had a cup of coffee in his right hand, mussed hair standing on end, beard shadow darkening his jaw, and he appeared to be talking to someone.

She really, really hoped it was the dog and not another woman.

She went up the small stoop and knocked on the door.

There was silence, and then the door curtain jerked to the side and Tucker stared at her with his beautiful green eyes wide. Kady stared back.

Oh, what that man did to her.

His effect could be downright lethal, and if he ever figured it out, she might be in trouble.

Or bliss.

She was willing to bet on it being bliss.

He walked away from the door and was gone so long, she started to wonder if he’d slipped out the front door. But then he returned wearing uniform pants and awkwardly trying to put on his shirt.

Stubborn, stubborn man. Kady tested the door, found it unlocked and let herself in.

“Here,” she said when he halted to stare at her again. “Let me help.” To keep him from objecting, she went right on talking. “And why aren’t you wearing your sling? You know you should be. That’s it, just keep your arm still...there. I’ll button it up for you.”

Belatedly, he regained his senses and stepped out of her reach. “I can do it.” Watching her, he did up the buttons one-handed and then grabbed for his coffee cup again, gulped back half and finally met her gaze.

Kady smiled. “That coffee smells good.”

“Is that a hint?”

“Seemed necessary since your good manners are nowhere to be found.”

“I was up all night with the dog.” He turned away, got down another mug from an upper cabinet and filled it. “There’s milk in the fridge.”

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