The Family Simon: Tucker Part 25

Chapter Twenty-six.

By six o'clock, Abby was going crazy.

"Let's go to The Black Dog," she said to Cooper. They'd played two games of scrabble, a round of Would You Rather (and lord, the things that Cooper Simon would rather do). Wow.

And right about now, she was going to climb the G.o.dd.a.m.n walls. Abby pulled out her cell for what had to be the twentieth time and felt that now familiar pain in her heart. There was nothing. No text message and no missed call.

"He'll call," Cooper said.

Abby glanced up. They were on the sofa, staring out across the darkness that coated Central Park like a blanket. Overhead, stars shone in a clear sky and in the distance, the lights of the city twinkled.

"I know."

But she didn't know. Abby was scared s.h.i.+tless, and right now she didn't know anything. It was driving her crazy.

Eden and Noah had called earlier-they were coming to New York tomorrow-but again, they knew nothing other than what Abby already knew. That Tucker had landed in Havana with his brothers and Marley's parents.

That was hours ago.

She reached for the remote.

"Don't do it, Abigail," Cooper made a grab for it, but she jumped up, hit the power b.u.t.ton and held her breath when the news channel erupted onto the screen.

"Oh G.o.d," Abby wailed. But what had she expected? The Tucker Simon Missing Wife Saga as it was being called, was headline news.

Abby's photo was plastered across the television. She blinked her eyes, hating the sight of such a private moment caught on film, but it did nothing. The image didn't magically disappear.

She saw her red coat. Her red boots. Her special Valentine's Day outfit. The one she'd put together for what was supposed to be a special night. Had it been only a few days?

Someone had snapped the photo when she'd arrived in the lobby of the hotel. When Tucker had turned to her and scooped her up into his arms. She couldn't see his face, but oh, the pain on hers was unmistakable and Abby felt all those emotions all over again.

Her throat closed up and she couldn't swallow.

The news anchor was talking-Abby had the television on mute-and then Abby's photo disappeared, replaced with a smiling shot of Tucker and Marley on their wedding day.

It was a beautiful picture, and it crushed Abby's heart.

Oh, G.o.d. I can't do this.

She was about to turn away when new footage appeared. Footage she was hungry for, and instead, she clutched the remote to her chest, biting her bottom lip in an effort to quiet the pain she felt as she watched grainy video of Tucker exiting a van, accompanied by Jack, Teague, and Marley's parents.

G.o.d, he looked so d.a.m.n tired-even with his aviators on, she could tell. It was in the way his mouth was tight-the way he kept rubbing his chin and tugging on the long ends of his hair.

"Oh, Tucker," she murmured, near tears. She wanted to be there with him. G.o.d, how she needed to touch him.

"Hey," Cooper said quietly. "Give me that."

Abby let him take the remote, though her fingers shook so badly she was barely able to hand it off. She turned away from the television, once more eyes drawn to the blackness outside.

"So," Cooper said. "Your family bar sounds pretty d.a.m.n good right about now. Let's go."

She shrugged and didn't say anything, because she wasn't sure she could talk. Abby wanted to crawl into bed and cry her eyes out. She wanted to bury her nose in the sheets and inhale Tucker's scent. Maybe then she would feel close to him. Maybe then she could feel some kind of peace.

"I think you should make me a drink," he said.

"Cooper, I don't know."

"I do," he said. "A Mathews special."

She thought back to the wedding. To that first time she met him and a small smile crept over her face. "A Martini?"

"Nah. I'm more of a Slippery Nipple kind of guy."

"Why am I not surprised? But that's a shooter."

"Huh." He winked. "Well, I'd like a Slippery Nipple and then you can give me some s.e.x on the Beach."

"s.e.x on the Beach is hard to come by in New York City in the middle of February, but I supposed we could try."

"I appreciate that."

Abby exhaled a long shuddering breath and whispered. "Thanks for being here, Cooper."

He bowed his head. "No problem."

"You're a good guy. You know that, right?"

"Don't be spreading that around."

Abby sighed. "Why do you want people thinking you're a d.i.c.k? Why do you hide behind that?"

Cooper was silent for a few moments, and then he shrugged. "When they think you're a d.i.c.k, they usually a.s.sume you're shallow as well. d.i.c.k and shallow kind of go hand in hand. That's a lot of layers of bulls.h.i.+t for someone to peel back, and most people don't have the time."

"Would that be so wrong, Cooper? To let someone in?"

Cooper looked irritated, but for whatever reason, Abby wasn't giving this up. "I mean it Cooper. What are you afraid of?"

He shrugged but said nothing.

Abby gave him a hug and whispered. "One day some woman is going to peel back those layers of bulls.h.i.+t and-"

"And what?"

"And you're going let her."

"That's pretty d.a.m.n optimistic," Cooper said.

"I think it's inevitable."

"You know what I think is inevitable? Our date. You going to take me to this famous Black Dog pub or what?"

Abby glanced around the empty apartment. Everywhere she looked, she saw Tucker. And as much as that made her feel closer to him, it also was driving her bat s.h.i.+t crazy.

"Okay," she conceded. "Let's go."

Ten minutes later, they hopped in a taxi, both of them avoiding the paparazzi waiting outside of The Ess.e.x House.

"How are you doing, Miss?"

Surprised, Abby glanced up at the taxi driver, smiling wanly when she recognized him. His name was John and he'd taken her and Tucker out several times in the past.

Of course he knew who she was. Who Tucker was. And by now, he sure as h.e.l.l knew who Marley was.

His eyes were kind and his concern genuine.

"I'm fine, thank you."

Less than twenty minutes later, they pulled up outside of The Black Dog. "s.h.i.+t," Cooper murmured, reaching into his jacket for the fare.

"What's going on?"

"There are some photographers outside the bar. Are you sure you want to go inside? I mean, it might get crazy if word gets out that you're here."

Something fired off inside Abby. Something hot and p.i.s.sed off and fed up. "Let them get crazy. I don't care. They haven't met my brother Mick and I can guarantee he's looking for an excuse to let off some steam."

Cooper chuckled. "Okay then."

They pushed past the crowd outside the bar and when one of the photographers tried to follow them inside, Cooper, shoved him back. While Abby wasn't exactly sure what Cooper said to the guy, she knew it wasn't polite and it sure as h.e.l.l wasn't nice. The photographer backed off, and the rest milled around but none of them tried to follow them inside the Black Dog.

The first face she saw when her eyes adjusted to the lighting was Old Joe. His wrinkled, leathery face opened into a wide grin, and she walked up to him, accepting his hug and the kiss on her cheek.

"There's my girl," Old Joe said.

"Hey," she murmured. "Are these guys looking after you?"

"They're not as pretty to look at, but they keep my mug full."

"You're not on the schedule," Mick said, resting his hip against the bar.

"What can I say?" she replied. "I miss the place."

Mick and her younger brother Josh were behind the bar, while Lisa was pouring draft for a customer. Lisa glanced up and waved, mouthing, "I'll just be a second," before turning back to the guys sitting in front of her.

Huh. Since when did Lisa sling beer at The Black Dog?

"Besides, I'm not here to work," Abby said, and then punched Cooper in the chest. "But I am here to make Coop a Slippery Nipple. I promised him the full Mathews treatment."

Mick didn't bother glancing at Cooper. His dark eyes, so intense and full of worry, settled on her.

"I'm glad you're here, Abs. I was coming over after my s.h.i.+ft."

Abby slipped behind the bar. "Now you don't have to."

Mick cracked a smile. "No. I don't." He tossed her a rag and then turned to Cooper, arms crossed over his chest. All business and gruff. "So, which one are you?"

Cooper slid onto the only empty stool at the bar. "I'm the a.s.shole."

"Huh," Mick said, while Abby tried to hide a smile. "Good to know."

The next few hours flew by and there, surrounded by her friends and family, Abby was able to forget, if only for a little while, just how sucktastic her life had become. She made Cooper several Slippery Nipples and had more than a few herself. s.e.x on the Beach was epic, and then they moved onto Margaritas.

By midnight she was flying high and feeling too d.a.m.n good. So good in fact at first she didn't feel her cell vibrate. More than a little drunk, it took some doing to dig it out of her front pocket.

Abby stared at the name on the screen, blinking rapidly because it was blurred.

Tucker.

s.h.i.+t, were those tears?

Scrubbing at her face, she slid off the stool-nearly falling on her a.s.s and headed toward the stock room. It would be quiet in there, and right now, she needed quiet. Right now she needed sober, but she was working on that.

"Abby!" Her brother stared after her, his eyebrow raised in question. Cooper swiveled around on his stool and Abby held the cell up, mouthing, "Tucker."

They both nodded, and she hurried through the pool room, not stopping until she closed the door behind her and shut out the noise of the bar. She held the phone up to her ear and slid down the wall until she was on the floor.

She was so scared her hands were shaking.

"Hey," she said voice scratchy, like she'd swallowed sandpaper.

For a few scary seconds she couldn't hear anything, and then he was there, in her head. She closed her eyes, felt his warmth and he was right there beside her.

"Miss Mathews," he said. "You sound like s.h.i.+t."

Wiping away tears, Abby nodded, which was weird because it wasn't as if he could see her. "I know. Sorry." She paused. "You sound tired."

"I am. It's been a long few days. Sorry I didn't call earlier, but I just...G.o.d, there's so much going on here."

"Don't apologize, Tucker. I know you're dealing with a lot. I just wish I could help you."

"Hearing your voice. It helps."

She sniffled but didn't reply because there was a G.o.dd.a.m.n log stuck in her throat.