Delivering the Virgin(25)

But the situation with Tucker was different. I mean, Michael being a  hitman was so far-fetched to be almost ludicrous, straight out of a  movie. But my life was no movie, and the current situation didn't have a  happy ending.

So I began explaining to my mom, slowly at first, then picking up steam.  Linda and I don't talk that often, she's always traveling on some jaunt  or another, so this was as good a time as any, and once I got into the  groove, it all tumbled out, the deliveries that went awry, moving in  together, my lover's horrific betrayal.

"So let me get this straight," said Linda slowly. The satellite phone  was so good, so sensitive, that I could almost feel the sway of the boat  she was on, hear the lap of waves against the hull. "The man you're  dating is incredibly successful, and not a delivery man at all," she  said slowly.

"Sort of, yes," I acknowledged. "But there's a bigger point. Tucker lied  to me, he could have told me the truth at any point but he never said  anything."

I could almost hear my mom shaking her head.

"But what did you expect?" she asked. "That your man was going to be  upfront and open with you from the very beginning, especially given his  past experiences with women?"

I paused for a moment.

"Well yes," I said righteously. "I mean, you should always give your  lover the benefit of the doubt. If you start off on a suspicious note it  just gets you off on a bad foot, poisons the well."

My mom was silent for a moment. I was obviously touchy and she didn't want to set me off.

"But honey," continued my mom gently, "this guy Tucker explained why he  didn't tell you his identity at first, why he kept it a secret. He was  afraid that you might only want him for his money because that's what  women in his past found most attractive."

"But that's not me! He didn't have to test me!" I cried vehemently. "I  work in government for crying out loud, helping translate signs so that  immigrants and new Americans know where the bathroom is. Of course I'm  not about the money, why would I take a job like this? I could be  working anywhere else and make twice as much."

My mom paused for a moment.

"Honey, don't get me wrong, I love the fact that you're a do-gooder but I  think you're mixing two things up," she said gently. "Just because you  work for nothing doesn't mean that you're not interested in money. The  two don't cancel each other out, and one doesn't necessarily imply the  other," she said.         

     



 

I paused for a moment contemplating. Sure, I guess bad people sometimes  do good things, and good people do bad things. But my commitment to  helping others surely telegraphed that I wasn't on the market for a rich  husband, right? Wasn't that obvious? But before I could speak, my mom  continued.

"And besides," said Linda, "Tucker's been the target of dozens of  ladies, probably hundreds of women, young and old, would love to be Mrs.  McGrath, die to have his ring on their finger."

That made a shiver run down my spine. Another woman as Tucker's wife?  The thought made me blanch, keel over with pain. But I had my pride.

"I've never said anything about marriage," I said stiffly. "I only just got divorced."

"Of course honey," my mom said in a conciliatory voice. "Of course. But  you do understand why Tucker is the way he is? It sounds like he's had  to ward off golddiggers a couple times, and just like you, once burned,  twice shy. He's careful now, he doesn't just open up his soul to anyone.  The walls come down slowly as two people get to know one another, build  bridges of trust and understanding."

And I snorted a little rudely then.

"Okay Ma, you sound like Dr. Phil or some radio station love guru, but I  guess you'd know, you've been married four times," I said snarkily.

But my mom took the insults in a breeze. I guess being a parent helps  the comments roll off, impertinent kids are par for the course.

"It's not the four marriages," replied my mom lightly. "It's that I'm  older now, been through a lot, had my heart broken a couple times and  picked myself up along the way. Trust me honey, this isn't the disaster  you're making it out to be. In fact, this guy sounds like he really  loves you baby, really respects you for your choices, the fact that  you're clearly not about his wealth. Give him another chance," she said  persuasively. "You owe it to him  …  and yourself."

But I wasn't having it.

"I don't owe Tucker McGrath anything," I snapped, "Nothing at all."

And my mom just sighed, her voice crackling a bit with static.

"Well have it your way, but take it from someone who's been through  marriage four times," she said wryly. "This guy sounds like a catch and  he seems to really be into you. Don't lose it just because of something  small, because you might not be able to get it back," she said with a  rueful sigh. "Even if you apologize, sometimes it's never the way it  was."

And I paused for a moment, suddenly alarmed. A pit opened up in my  stomach and my brain froze like ice. I'd acted completely on impulse,  storming to NYC Concierge, busting in and confronting Tucker before all  his employees, making a scene like none other. Had I crossed a line  already? Was it too late, the damage done?

And I dropped my head miserably, trying not to cry. I had no idea how to  proceed next, what to do, how to help myself and I felt all alone with  no support, no shoulder to lean on. Oh god, was I already yesterday's  trash to the big man, left out on the sidewalk to be hauled to the dump?  Had I mixed myself up to the point where there was no return, no going  back? Suddenly, I was miserable and lost  …  without Tucker.





CHAPTER TWENTY


Tucker




I have to say Laurie had some nerve. Showing up at NYC Concierge  unannounced, making a scene in front of my employees, raining fire and  brimstone with that curvy, fine form on display for all to see. I shook  my head because fuck, it all belonged to me, and I loved seeing her  rage, her energy, that earthiness brought to life.

And that's what I love about the sassy female. Laurie's not afraid to  hold back, she tells me what's real, calls me on my shit and that's what  a partner's for, right? Someone to tell you when you're off, earning  your respect without putting you down. Okay, it hadn't been the most  tactful way of pointing out my weaknesses, but we could work on that,  there were years ahead together, wrapped around each other, fighting,  loving, laughing, while nurturing our mutual love. I knew now for  certain that she was right for me, my missing other half, and I couldn't  wait to get the ring on her finger.         

     



 

And I wasn't too worried. Sure, Laurie had disappeared, some of her  stuff was gone, a suitcase missing from the shelf, but she'd be back.  Because she'd forgotten something important  –  the key to her old  apartment. Oh yeah, I'd started paying the rent on that place over her  insistent refusals. If the brunette wanted to keep an empty apartment as  a back-up, fine, but I drew the line at her paying rent. I wasn't going  to let her keep forking over eight hundred dollars a month on a  government employee's salary, so I'd taken over the lease, my name at  the top, and I had the key now.

And sure enough, come ten p.m., the front door creaked open, revealing  my best girl looking a little bedraggled, dragging her suitcase behind  her.

"Hey," I drawled, eyeing her up and down. "How's it goin'? About to attack me again?"

The brunette's eyes immediately shot sparks, and I laughed aloud, loving the fire within.

"Very funny, Tucker," she said, giving me the stink-eye.

"Very funny what?" I asked innocently, my hands up in the air.

"You know," she replied huffily. "I don't have the key to my old apartment anymore. You do," she accused.

And I held my hands up again in a take-no-prisoners style.

"Of course I do, honey, I pay the rent on that place, or have you forgotten?" I asked smarmily.

My clown act really annoyed her and she frowned, a hot flush running  over her cheeks and down her chest, disappearing into her blouse. Fuck,  just the thought of those nipples turning rosy, becoming luscious red  cherries made my dick pop out, my boner start singing.

But Laurie just shook her head, eyes closed, as if really tired. And  suddenly a wave of concern came over me. My little girl had been walking  around the city for hours now, dragging this suitcase behind her,  probably seeking shelter in coffee shops, park benches, and the local  McDonald's. My heart twisted and I jumped up.

"Here baby," I said, my tone rough, vacating my stool at the kitchen counter. "Sit down and I'll get you something to eat."

Because I stand by my previous assessment that Laurie would look better  heavier, and I'd been working on that the past couple months, ordering  trays full of food, high calorie options like mashed potatoes and  chocolate cake whenever I could. I love my girl curvy and with just a  little more, a little more heft, more swing, she'd be a fifteen on a  scale of ten, her boobs, ass and hips the stars of the show.