Teague tipped his driver and hoisted his equipment over his shoulder before entering The Black Dog. It was a Thursday night and the place was hopping. He slid up to the bar and grinned at the sight that greeted him. His brother's tie was stained, his dress shirt wrinkled, and his hand was covered in beer foam.
"Since when do you bartend?"
Tucker glanced up from pouring a large draft. "Son-of-a-bitch. You're early. Thought you wouldn't get here for another two hours."
"I see that." Teague lifted his chin. "Pour me one, will ya?"
Abby Mathews slid up behind her fiancé and planted a kiss on the side of his neck. She glanced over and squealed. "Teague!" She paused. "You look like shit."
He had to agree with her. "Nothing a pint of Guinness won't cure."
"Here, let me do that," she said, pushing Tucker out of the way. She grabbed a large mug and filled it expertly, before sliding it across the bar to Teague.
He took a long drink. Damn but he needed this.
"We'll be with you in a bit," Abby said. "My brother Mitch has two servers running late, so Tucker volunteered us to help out."
Teague's eyebrows lifted. "How's that going?"
Tucker laughed. "About as good as you'd imagine." He nodded behind Teague. "We've got a table in the corner if you want to stow your gear."
Someone elbowed him and that pretty much made up his mind. Teague grabbed his draft. "I'll see you over there."
He wove his way through several large groups of people, catching half conversations filled with excited chatter about hookups, the Rangers, and the Yankees hopes for another pennant. He avoided a few pointed glances and more than a few aggressive women, before settling his ass in the booth and stowing his gear.
Without thinking, he pulled out his cell phone, doing the same thing he did multiple times, every day.
There was no call. No text message. No Sabrina.
Teague stared down at the phone, trying to clamp down the anger that pulsed inside him. Had he screwed up this bad?
"You okay?"
He shrugged as his brother slid into the booth across from him, and accepted another pint. "About as okay as I get."
"You look like shit," Tucker said.
"So your woman says."
"Anything I can do?"
He shook his head and made a dent in the mug of Guinness. "Nah. A couple days of R&R should help." He always gave the same answer because it was easier to lie. Truth was, everything about right now felt off. He'd just got home, for Christ sake, and yet he was as restless as ever.
All he could think about was …
"Have you talked to Sabrina at all?" he asked, before he could stop himself.
Tucker set his mug on the table and sank back into the seat. His eyes were thoughtful as he gazed across the table at his brother.
"I haven't spoken to her myself, but Mom mentioned her the other day."
"Mom?" Surprised, Teague sat up a bit higher.
Tucker nodded. "Yeah. She's getting ready to sell the cottage or something. Apparently she's living in town now and can't keep two places running."
"She loves that place. Hell, Harry and Morgan love it more than she does." Frowning, Teague glanced at his phone again.
"Well, she's a single mom and I can't imagine how tough it would be to keep one place going, let alone two."
"I guess." But the thought of strangers in that house, living in the rooms that belonged to Sabrina and the kids, didn't sit right with Teague and he scowled at the thought.
"Are you going to tell me what exactly happened between the two of you?"
He didn't feel like discussing any part of his personal life with anyone, and that included Tucker.
"What did Jack tell you?" he asked instead.
"He didn't say anything."
"Then why the hell are you asking?"
"Because you've never come back from a trip before and asked about a woman. Hell, I can't even remember the last time that you had a girlfriend. And I'm not talking about some woman you bang whenever you're home. I'm talking about a relationship. A real relationship."
"Sabrina and I … " God damn, but it pissed him off to say the words out loud. To know how close he'd come to some sort of heaven with a woman he hadn't realized he needed until he lost her.
"Sabrina and I aren't together, if that's what you're getting at. Hell, I've been gone for almost two months."
"But you want to be together."
Damn right.
"No," he said quickly.
"You've always been a shitty liar."
"Fuck you, Tucker."
"Remember the time when we took Dad's new boat out and then scraped the shit out of the side of it as we docked? Remember that?"
Teague scowled. "What about it?"
"Remember that Jack and Beau took it out too?"
"Vaguely."
"All you had to do was follow the script. Play dumb and we would have been home free. Dad caught them with the boat, not us. But as soon as you opened your mouth, everything went to shit. You all but confessed and we spent the rest of the summer grounded from watersports. All because you never perfected the art of lying."
"Some people might appreciate that trait."
"I'm sure they do. Just not your eleven-year-old twin."
"You got a point to this story?"
"My point is that right now you're bullshitting me and you're bullshitting yourself. You want this woman. Sabrina means something to you. Hell, if I'm reading this right, she means more to you than you've even realized. I think you might be in love with her."
"Love?" Teague sputtered. What the hell? "Have you been hitting the Guinness tap all day?"
Tucker's eyes narrowed.
"I had lunch with Larry McEwen a few days ago."
"Tucker, you're all over the place. Who the hell is Larry McEwen and why should I care to hear his story?"
"Larry McEwen is a hot prospect for the Rangers. He's six foot five, shoots right and has a wicked wrist shot. He's not afraid of the corners and can hold his own against any enforcer in the NHL. He's my newest client."
Okay. Tucker had always managed to be the one guy who could get under his skin without even trying. And right, now Teague was envisioning a lunge across the table so that he could shake the story out of his brother.
"Sounds like a gem," Teague replied, regaining some of his composure. "And I should care, why?"
"His step-father works in television."
"Are you going somewhere with this, Tucker?"
"Apparently his step-father is a producer by the name of Max Holt."
A muscle worked its way along Teague's jaw. Great. This news was going to break before he wanted it to.
"And?"
"And apparently the word on the street is that he's offered you a gig to help produce and bring to life a news show that would air once a week and cover political and world issues. Real stripped down and gritty, from what I heard."
"What of it?" Teague snapped, finishing his beer and slamming the mug down onto the table. He had no idea why he was angry, but he was. Holy hell was he. If his brother didn't watch it, there would be entertainment in The Black Dog tonight-entertainment of the fighting kind.
"Are you considering it?" Tucker asked.
Teague stared into his empty beer. He let the sounds of the bar soothe him-funny how noise could quiet his head-and then with a sigh, he pushed the mug away. "I might be."
"So I was right." Tucker's grin made Teague want to smash his fist and ruin that pretty face. "The fact that you're considering a gig that keeps you here and out of danger tells me something."
"Oh yeah? What would that be?"
"You've finally found the one thing that you've been searching for your entire life and it's not a story or some Seal mission that could get your ass blown off. It's a woman and she's up north and probably pissed that you've been gone for months."
Teague opened his mouth to let his brother have it. He wanted to tell him that in no way did this potential career change have anything to do with Sabrina. Hell, it's not as if he'd gone looking for it. It had landed in his lap and after his initial reluctance, he'd run with it. He'd negotiated a job that would let him work from home. A job that would require him to travel to New York City once a month for three days of taping.
It was a job that had stability and would challenge him. It was a job that meant a normal life.
All he had to do was sign the contract. And up until this very moment, he hadn't realized how badly he wanted this. Normal. Him. Teague Simon
But only if he could do it with Sabrina.
"Shit," he muttered.
"Guess you've got some work to do brother," Tucker said with a grin.
That, Teague thought, was an understatement.
He grabbed his cellphone once more, and there was no hesitation. He waited and swore when her damn voicemail came on, but this time he didn't hang up. He left a message.