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The CEO's Secret Baby
Karen Whiddon


Seeing Tucker Drover–the man she loved more than life itself and presumed dead in a plane crash–shakes Lucy Knowlton's world. How will she tell him about their baby boy–and her engagement to his best friend? Her heart has only ever belonged to Tucker…but how can they go back to the way it was?Once a successful CEO, Tucker had the misfortune of getting tangled up with a powerful Mexican drug cartel. Now on the run, seeing Lucy again and meeting his son makes him long for them to be a family. And when shattering betrayals are revealed and danger closes in, the only thing that matters is keeping mother and son safe….









Damn, she was in trouble.


Lying in the dark with him, side by side in separate beds, while their child slept nearby, her desire intensified, becoming so strong she couldn’t sleep. Her entire body burned with need.



In the bed next to her, Tucker’s ragged breathing told her that he had the same problem. “Tucker?” she said, then mentally kicked herself for speaking. “Are you…?”



“Yes, I’m thinking about you,” he said, his voice harsh. “Fantasizing about you. And yes, Lucy, I want you. More than you could ever believe.”



She gasped as need and desire blossomed through her. So much for careful resolutions and planning. She could no more resist this man than she could stop breathing.



If that made her a fool, then so be it.



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Dear Reader,



As often is the case with writers, The CEO’s Secret Baby stemmed from my thinking “what if?” What if a man had been held prisoner for a year and when set free, returned home to find that he might as well have become a ghost? Believing him dead, his girlfriend had gone on without him, forging a new relationship with his best friend. Even more shockingly, she’d been pregnant and he has a three-month-old son!



And then I had to wonder what it would be like to be her, having lost the man you loved, carried and birthed his baby and, after a year, forged a tentative alliance with his best friend. Only to have all this blow up in her face when her first love shows up, not dead after all. Throw in a Mexican drug cartel and ten million missing dollars, and things start to heat up even more.



A fascinating concept, yes? I hope I’ve done it justice. For this book, we return to my beloved Boulder, Colorado, in the summer, normally a carefree time, but not for them. I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it.



Karen Whiddon




The CEO’s Secret Baby

Karen Whiddon





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




KAREN WHIDDON


started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at the age of eleven. Amidst the Catskill Mountains of New York, then the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty of the rugged peaks and spun stories of love that captivated her family’s attention.

Karen now lives in north Texas, where she shares her life with her very own hero of a husband and three doting dogs. Also an entrepreneur, she divides her time between the business she started and writing the contemporary romantic suspense and paranormal romances that readers enjoy. You can email Karen at KWhiddon1@aol.com or write to her at P.O. Box 820807, Fort Worth, TX 76182. Fans of her writing can also check out her website, www.karenwhiddon.com (http://www.karenwhiddon.com).


To my husband’s family,

who have also become mine. Floyd, Sarah,

and Lavenia. Know that I love you dearly.




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13




Chapter 1


The Fourth of July began like any other summer morning. Lucy Knowlton woke up, well-rested after a dreamless night, and showered. Then, with sunlight streaming lemon yellow through her open kitchen window, she ate her normal breakfast—multigrain Cheerios with sliced strawberries and almond milk.

The early morning air was still cool, though she knew the temperature would continue to rise. All in all, she felt…good. Surprisingly upbeat. Maybe because she’d actually slept well. She supposed she should feel grateful that she’d finally stopped having nightmares about Tucker and how he must have felt when the plane went down.

Rinsing her dishes in the sink and stacking them in the dishwasher, she’d just finished when her three-month-old baby, Eli, cried to let her know he was awake and wanted to be fed. The obvious delight in his bright blue eyes as he latched on to her breast made her happy and she smiled. Vaguely amazed at the soft happiness she felt, she thought her smiles came a little bit more frequently these days. Or at least she hoped so.

After all, she had so much to be thankful for. Though Tucker’s absence had left her with a gaping hole in her life, over time she’d tried to pull the tattered edges closer together. A week, a month, a day, a minute at a time.

Still, at any given moment she could calculate exactly how long it had been since Tucker had died. Today marked one year, two weeks and one day. Ignoring the ever-present ache of missing him, she spent the rest of the morning puttering around the house doing myriad daily chores.

Humming nursery rhymes to entertain Eli in his playpen, she washed two loads of laundry, cleaned her bathroom and mopped the kitchen floor. In between she changed Eli’s diaper, sang to him, rocked him and cuddled him. She found if she kept busy, she didn’t think so much. All in all, life kept getting better.

Come early afternoon, she put Eli down for a nap. At three months old, he slept a lot still, for which she was guiltily grateful, as she couldn’t seem to find enough hours in the day to get everything done.

Especially today. Glad her energy was high, because she still had a lot to do before the holiday celebration later. And it was very important to her that she attend the fireworks display, even though she wouldn’t take the baby inside the stadium because of the noise. She’d watch from a distance and try to stay until the very end. She planned to do this in honor of Tucker—the Fourth of July had been his favorite holiday. Last year, she’d been too devastated to even consider attending any kind of celebration.

This year, she’d do it up right.

So, on this day of all days, she pushed aside her grief at his untimely death and tried to feel lighthearted. At least she could count on Sean Morey, Tucker’s best friend and her brand-new fiancé, to help her as they watched the fireworks display explode in vibrant colors in the velvet sky above them.

When the doorbell rang, the muted sound of the clear, mellow chimes made her smile again. A gift from Sean, he’d installed them only a few days ago. She loved the way they sounded, too quiet to wake Eli, but loud enough to let her know someone was at the door. Her obvious delight in the chimes had to be the reason why Sean rang them now instead of just walking inside as he usually did.

Keeping her smile firmly in place so Sean wouldn’t worry because she always looked so sad, she hurried to the front door and pulled it open.

“Hey, you!” As she took in the sight of the tall, broad-shouldered man standing on her front step, her less than genuine smile froze in place.

A ghost looked back at her from sapphire blue eyes exactly like her son’s. Her heart skipped a beat and she struggled to breathe. Not Sean, as she’d supposed. But Tucker, instead. Tucker Drover, the man who, for all intents and purposes, had died a little over one year ago in a fiery plane crash in Mexico.

Died. She’d attended his funeral, wept over his grave.

This. Could. Not. Be. Real.

Had she finally lost it? Closing her eyes, she inhaled and counted to three before opening them again.

He was still there, his shadow long and dark behind him in the bright sunlight. Standing on her doorstep, staring back at her, his amazing eyes roaming over her as intimate as a touch, making her shiver.

Tucker? Really? She couldn’t speak, unable to trust her eyes. He continued to watch at her, his expectant smile fading as she continued to stare in shocked disbelief.

“Say something,” he entreated. “Welcome me home, curse me out, I don’t know. But say something, Lucy. Do something.”

Though he sounded weary, his tone low and ragged, she would have recognized that beloved voice anywhere. Tucker. Tucker was…alive? How could this be?

Paralyzed, she tried to form words to demand answers. Pain warred with hope, agony with desire. Tucker was dead. He couldn’t be standing here on her doorstep. Was this a trick? Some kind of hallucination? One of those nightmares that she’d thought she’d vanquished?

Had she finally completely gone insane?

“Lucy?” he rasped, narrowing his eyes. “Are you all right?”

She didn’t faint, even though the edges of her vision momentarily went gray and the ground seemed to tilt in front of her. Staring at him, she tried to remember to breathe, still dimly certain that this couldn’t be real.

“Lucy?” he said again, cocking his head and studying her with that serious, glinting blue gaze she’d always loved. Finally, hope slammed into her, mingling with joy and shock and disbelief and…love.

“Tucker,” she managed, her throat closing up as words failed her. But it didn’t matter; nothing did, because Tucker was here, with her. Alive. He’d come back alive.

She let her gaze devour him, feeling starved. Taking in his rugged, beloved face, his broad shoulders and muscular arms suddenly wasn’t enough. She needed to feel him, his arms around her. She needed to bury her face in the crook of his neck, to inhale the woodsy scent of him. She needed reassurance that she wasn’t dreaming, that indeed, this was real.

“Is it…?” Her voice came out in a croak. Trying to understand, to assimilate how he could both be here and not, she took a step forward, dizzy, swaying, confused. “Tucker? It’s you? It’s really you?”

Head tilted quizzically, he gave the smallest of nods. Still, he made no move to take her in his arms, to hold her close. She didn’t understand why not, didn’t really care at this point. Tucker was home!

She made the first move herself. Taking a step forward, she threw herself at him, joy filling her. Her heart beat a frantic tattoo in her chest as she wrapped her arms around him, holding on like she never wanted to let him go. Which she didn’t. Not ever.

Gradually, she became conscious of the fact that, though he hugged her back, something was…different. He held himself stiffly. Rather than relaxing into her embrace, he seemed to be only going through the motions.

She pulled back and looked up at him. While his eyes were still the same shocking shade of sapphire, the look in them was not. Anger and bitterness, rather than love, warred in his amazing eyes.

Anger? At her?

As she eyed him, Tucker, this man who’d disappeared from her life so suddenly and violently, whose supposed death had ripped the heart from her chest and stripped all the joy from her world, she suddenly realized she was angry, too. Furious.

Glaring up at him, she stepped back, keeping hold of his arms. “What happened to you? Where have you been all this time? Why didn’t you call?”

“I couldn’t,” he said simply. “After they got me out, they wouldn’t let me have access to a phone, even after my debriefing. Take my word for it. If I could have called, I would have.”

“They? Debriefing?” She needed answers. She deserved answers. “Tucker?” she kept her voice level. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

“Sorry.” Letting out a breath, he dragged his hand across his chin. “It’s a long story and I’m dead on my feet. Can I come in?”

Without hesitation, she stepped aside, gesturing for him to move past her. Once he did, she closed the door, quietly clicking the lock into place. All of her motions were slow and deliberate, as though the simple routine of performing regular gestures could make everything normal again.

Normal. As if. For a heartbeat, one frozen moment, she let her own anger simmer, then took a deep breath and ruthlessly pushed it back down inside her, allowing the joy to come flooding back. Tucker was alive. He’d returned home; miraculously back from the dead, like Lazarus pushing aside his funeral shroud. Alive.

They would rejoice, they should rejoice, but first, surely he owed her a few words of explanation. He’d disappeared for over a year, made no effort to contact her, and let her believe he was dead. She needed to understand why.

Trembling from the effort of remaining calm, she turned again to face him. He watched her, expression impassive, detached when he should have been joyful. This, she also didn’t understand.

“You seem surprised to see me,” he commented, one corner of his mouth lifting in a twisted sort of smile. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Lucy girl?”

Despite herself, warmth curled inside of her at the familiar nickname. She hadn’t been called that since the last time she’d seen him.

“Of course I’m surprised.” Her voice came out wobbly. Taking a deep breath, she eyed him, full of a cautious sort of love—and pain. “Seriously, I really need to know where you’ve been all this time. We thought you were dead.”

“Dead?” He lifted a brow, inadvertently making her insides clench from the sheer masculine beauty of his rugged features. “Really?”

Scarcely able to believe that he wasn’t taking her seriously, she nodded. “Yes. We were officially notified that you were dead.”

“We?”

“Sean and I. Remember him? Your best friend? Or did you forget about him, too?” Guilt and anger propelling her, she swept by him, leading the way into her living room, hyper-conscious of him right behind. Alive. Alive.

“We thought you were dead,” she repeated. “I wept over your picture at your funeral—we didn’t even have a body to bury. Your parents flew in from Nepal.” Her eyes filled with tears and she turned away to hide it.

Gathering her composure, she continued. “I’ve mourned you, Tucker. You don’t know how much I’ve grieved over you. And now…you’re here. Alive and waltzing into the house as though nothing has happened, asking me if I’m surprised to see you.”

Perching on the edge of the couch, she gestured for him to take a seat in the overstuffed chair he’d always claimed as his own. “I don’t understand. Explain this to me. I don’t even know what page you’re on.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, sounding both bewildered and sad. “I’ve been through so much. I’m confused and recovering. But I swear to you, no one told me you thought I died.”

He took a deep breath and blew it back out again. “I was in pretty bad shape. The ones who rescued me, they were mostly concerned with making sure I didn’t really die to tell me anything.”

Again with the odd, sketchy references.

“Once they got me back to health, they had questions of their own that they wanted answered,” he continued. “Too many of them to remember. And yes, I’ve been told I was gone over a year, though time passes differently when you’re in that sort of situation. In this, I had no choice in the matter.”

“I still don’t understand. I guess you think what you’re saying is clear, but it makes no sense to me.”

Slowly, he nodded. “I’m sorry. Let me start over.”

Crossing her arms to keep from touching him, she caught her breath as she belatedly realized exhaustion showed white around the edge of his mouth. Despite his tanned skin and corded, muscular arms, he was thin as a rail, too, though his shoulders were still as broad.

And he was just as beautiful.

“Start at the beginning,” she offered.

“Okay. Let me tell you as much as I remember,” he said. “One minute I was striding through the Mexican fields with the man I went to meet. You remember. His name was Carlos, and he claimed to have grown a completely new and fantastic strain of coffee beans.”

He’d gone to obtain samples to see if his company, Boulder’s Best Brew, would be interested in distributing them.

“I felt a blow at the back of my head like an explosion,” he continued. “After that, I regained consciousness chained and was trussed like an animal, with a headache the size of Denver.”

His eyes were haunted as he paused. “I had no idea where I was. I’d gone down in the wilds of the Mexican jungle. Carlos, the two employees who’d traveled with me, as well as my Spanish interpreter, had vanished—either dead or captured, too. I was a prisoner, with no way to contact you or Sean or even the American embassy. Worse, I had no idea why.”

Though he paused as if inviting comments, Lucy didn’t interrupt. Holding her gaze, he swallowed and continued.

“They tortured me enough to put me on the tattered edge of crazy. Without my interpreters, I couldn’t understand most of what they asked me, though after a while I realized they thought I’d stolen something. Instead, I tried to figure out a way out of there, a way home to you. I began making up lies to keep them from torturing me more. But no matter what they did to me, I couldn’t tell them what they wanted because I truly didn’t know.”

“They? Who were they?” she asked, her throat aching at the haunting look on his face. “Who did this to you?”

He winced as he shrugged. “As best as I could tell, I was held prisoner by a major Mexican drug cartel.”

“Did you tell them that they had the wrong person?”

“I tried. But since my Spanish is extremely limited, the explanation I tried to give them fell on deaf ears.”

“You’re lucky they didn’t kill you.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said. “At first, I dreamed of escape, of home. After a while, I mostly dreamt of death. I wanted them to just go ahead and kill me. Get it over with. But they wouldn’t end my suffering and let me die.”

His voice broke and he looked down briefly before continuing. “I still don’t understand why not. Drug cartels like this one are ruthless. They usually kill spies or anyone who pissed them off without blinking. You’ve heard the stories of the mass graves found near the border, where they lined their enemies up near a shallow ditch and shot them in the back. But not me.” He sounded bitter, but this time, she understood why.

“For whatever reason, they kept me alive, using me as entertainment. Bored? Go torture the prisoner. Can’t sleep? Then make sure the prisoner doesn’t, either.”

She shuddered at his words, aching, wanting both to stop him and let him go on, hoping maybe once he’d told the story he could purge the horror from his system.

“I hated them with a passion,” he continued. “Though I was careful not to reveal the depths of my rage. As it became more and more clear that they had no intention of killing me, I knew I had to get out. If I could escape, I could try to get home.

“I tried to formulate a plan, but came up with nothing. The only thing I knew for sure was escaping wouldn’t be easy. My captors fed me just enough to keep me breathing, no more. Weakened by starvation, I could barely walk, never mind hike through miles of jungle to search out civilization and rescue.”

“Oh, Tucker. I’m so sorry.”

He went on talking as though he hadn’t heard her. “Basically, unless there was a miracle, I knew I was a dead man. I’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. My luck had finally run out.”

“How’d you escape?” she asked.

His gaze cleared and he dipped his chin. “A rival drug faction ambushed my captors. The ensuing shootout left several dead, many more wounded, while the rest fled. I was left, alone and forgotten in my jail cell. By then, circumstances had extinguished even the smallest flicker of hope. I simply waited to die of starvation and neglect. I hoped I wouldn’t linger—after all, how long could my body hang on by the proverbial thread?”

He went silent.

“But you were rescued. By whom?” she prompted.

“The DEA had someone undercover. Apparently, they learned of my capture and got me out. After that, everything was a blur. The next thing I knew, I found myself in a hospital in San Antonio, Texas, under heavy guard. I was questioned by some military-looking types, who’d claimed to be DEA. My repeated attempts to contact my family had been met with refusal. I was told only that making any outside contact could endanger my life. I was so heavily guarded that I felt like I was a prisoner again.”

“But they finally let you go?” she asked. “Do you have any idea why?”

“No. But once my fever was gone and I could keep solid food down and stand unassisted, they finally released me. They even arranged for transport, driving me here in one of those nondescript, law-enforcement type vehicles and dropping me off.” He flashed her a smile, a shadow of the carefree grins she remembered. “And here I am.”

“And here you are,” Lucy echoed. She wanted to go to him and hold him, but instead she kept herself still, hands clenched together. Her anger now directed at herself, she wondered how to tell him what she’d done. Tucker had already been through hell.

Before he’d disappeared and supposedly died, she’d waited forever for him to propose to her. Instead, he’d let his wanderlust haul him all over the globe, unwilling or unable to commit.

And now, believing him dead for over a year, she’d gone and gotten herself engaged to his best friend.

She felt ill, positively sick. Barely two weeks ago she’d agreed to become Sean’s wife.

“Why did they think you were dead?” she cried. “I would have moved heaven and earth to find you if I’d had the tiniest bit of hope that you’d survived. But they said you didn’t. They said it was you.”

“I…” Closing his eyes as though by doing so, he could block out all emotion, he shook his shaggy head. “I don’t know. They didn’t say anything about this when they debriefed me. You really thought I was…”

“Yes. Dead.” She spoke deliberately. “You were killed in the plane crash.”

“Lucy, listen to me. I wasn’t in a plane crash,” he said, his raspy voice simmering with undercurrents of lingering fury mixed with exhaustion.

So they were both angry. And maybe one of them was crazy. But which one? She was beginning to wonder.

“There was a plane crash,” she insisted. “We were told you were dead. The plane went down, exploded on impact, killing all on board. They identified Bruno, and Carlos, the man you’d gone to meet. And they found your wallet, though the…remains were too badly charred and scattered to know for sure.”

“Who told you this?”

“The authorities, of course.”

“Oh, Lucy.”

Unable to sit still any longer, she got up and crossed the room to stand in front of him. “I thought you were dead.” Unthinking, she reached out her hand to him.

While he didn’t recoil, not exactly, he shifted and moved enough so that her outstretched fingers didn’t come in contact with him at all.

As she slowly lowered her arm, he stared at her silently, as a stranger might, offering no embrace, no kiss, nothing to show that they’d loved each other once.

Twisting the ring on her finger, she realized it was a very good thing she and Sean had gotten engaged.

Tucker’s gaze followed the motion. “Let me see your hand.”

The ring. Sean’s ring. Slowly, she lifted her hand, wincing as he took it, raising it so the large ring glittered in the sunlight streaming through her front window.

“Nice.” Jaw clenched, he fairly spat the word. “Who?”

“I thought you were dead,” she cried.

“Who?” he demanded again.

Taking a deep breath, she told him. “Sean.”

He jerked back, clearly stunned. “Sean? Sean Morey?”

“Yes.” She inhaled, exhaled, scrambling for a rational explanation and finding none, except…there was always the truth. “I waited for you, but—”

“Obviously,” he bit out. “Whatever happened to I’ll love you forever?”

“Don’t be like that.” She threw her words at him, using anger to cover her pain. “You were dead, Tucker. For over a year, I mourned you. Sean was here for me. Even…”

“Even before my so-called death?”

Inwardly she flinched, but reminding herself that she’d resolved to stick with the truth, she lifted her chin. “Sean and I were friends, Tucker. Nothing more. You know that.”

“Obviously you were more than that.”

Ignoring his sarcastic reply, she kept on as if he hadn’t spoken. “Friends,” she said firmly. “But while you were traveling around the globe in your never-ending search for the elusive perfect coffee bean, Sean stayed here and kept me company.”

“I’ll bet he did.” More than bitter, he sounded furious. As if he had a right to be.

“I waited for you,” she sighed. “And if you hadn’t died, I’d probably still be waiting for you to get tired of roaming the world.” This was an old argument and one that had never made the slightest impression on him before.

Nor did it appear to now. Eyes narrowed, he continued to watch her. “So you’re telling me that less than one year after my so-called death, you got engaged to my best friend?”

Squaring her shoulders, she stared right back. “You were gone an entire year. Twelve long months without a single word from you.”

“It. Was. Not. My. Fault.” He ground out the words.

She almost hung her head. Instead, she lifted her chin and let him see the agony in her eyes. “Nor was it mine.”

“Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” he said. “I died and came back to life, and returned home to find out you’ve moved on.”

“I just did the best I could to try and live my life.” The ache in her throat told her she was perilously close to tears. Circumstances and events had changed them both. Things could never be the same between them.

Except, she thought, horrified. There had been another change, the biggest one of all. Now, she had a son. They had a son. Eli, Tucker’s child. Even though she’d only learned of her pregnancy after the plane crash, even if things had been different and Tucker had returned a year ago from his coffee expedition, she would have been unwilling to use their baby as a reason to tie him to her.

Just as she wouldn’t use it now. Still, she had to tell him.

As she opened her mouth to speak, her front door opened, making her jump.

Sean. Ah, crap, she’d forgotten. Glancing once more at Tucker, she hurried over to the foyer. “Sean, there’s—”

“Happy Fourth,” Sean interrupted, pulling her close in a one-armed hug and kissing her hard on the mouth before releasing her. Closing the front door quietly behind him so he wouldn’t wake the baby, he came inside, carrying several plastic grocery bags.

“Sean, I need—”

Oblivious, he pulled her in again for another quick kiss. “Hey,” he said, grinning. “I snagged a perfect watermelon and picked up some of those diet drinks you love so much.”

“Great. Um, there’s been a change of plans.” Wiping her hands nervously down the front of her shorts, she once again found herself struggling to find the right words. Sean eyed her curiously, his smile gradually fading.

Finally, she simply moved aside and gestured toward the living room and the man who stood silently watching them.

Taking a step forward, Sean’s expression changed when he caught sight of Tucker. Shock flashed across his face, then disbelief, and then finally, joy.

“Tucker?” Sean managed, talking a halting step forward. “Is it really you?”

“Yep,” Tucker rasped, eyeing his former best friend with narrowed eyes. “It’s me, all right.”

“Tucker?” Juggling his bags, Sean moved closer. He glanced from Tucker to Lucy, then back again. “How… What?”

When Tucker didn’t answer, Lucy swallowed and took over. “It’s really him, Sean. He’s—”

“Actually here,” Tucker finished for her, pushing a hand wearily through his hair. “In the flesh, still alive, though barely.” Swaying slightly, he flashed Sean a tightlipped, humorless smile. “Surprised?”

“Surprised isn’t the word!” Depositing the bags on the floor, Sean crossed the room and guy-hugged his best friend, grinning. If he noticed Tucker’s lack of response, he didn’t comment. Instead, he grimaced before stepping back and cocking his head. “Where the hell have you been, man? We thought you were dead.”

“Long story,” Tucker replied. When his gaze found Lucy’s, she read a regretful warning in his blue eyes. Warning against what? Against Sean, his—no, their—best friend?

Damn. Stunned, Lucy continued to study him, unable to help herself. His auburn hair looked much the same, though duller. He wore it longer and much shaggier. His clothing hung on his tall frame and had the battered look of worn hand-me-downs. The sallow color of his skin spoke of illness. Still, she found him too beautiful for her own good.

She felt a moment of sorrow, which she squashed. Shaking her head, she swallowed, the knot in her chest tightening. Blinking back sudden and unwanted tears, she busied herself with grabbing the grocery bags up off the floor and carrying them to the kitchen so she could unpack them. Busy work, busy work, as if by keeping her hands occupied she could hold back the flood of emotions.

Still, she could only hide out in the kitchen for so long. Eventually, she had to go back to where the two men continued to talk quietly.

Returning, she got about halfway there when a loud wail split the air, making her freeze in her tracks. Eli, waking up from his nap. And she hadn’t yet managed to tell Tucker that he had a son.




Chapter 2


Cripes.

Tucker stiffened, glancing from Lucy to Sean, then back to Lucy. “What was that?”

Opening her mouth to speak, Lucy decided she’d be better off showing rather than telling. “Just a minute,” she said, and hurried from the room to get her son. Their son, actually.

Screwing his chubby little face up in preparation for a louder cry, Eli whimpered instead as he caught sight of her. His blue eyes, so like his father’s, fixed on her face and he cooed happily. The sight of him made Lucy grin despite herself. She reached for him, lifting him and settling him so his head was on her shoulder. He smelled of baby powder and milk. Perfection, all in one small bundle.

“Hi, Eli,” she murmured, patting his back softly. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“You have a son?” Behind her, Tucker’s voice, completely devoid of emotion.

“Yes.” She tensed up again, which alarmed Eli. His bright eyes went wide and he scrunched his face, as though trying to decide whether or not to cry. “Shhh, sweetheart.” She gave him a soft kiss, before turning slowly.

Tucker stood in the doorway, frozen. The look on his face fell somewhere between shock and disbelief. At least, she thought sadly, it wasn’t horror.

At least he hadn’t died not knowing he had a son, as she’d thought.

From somewhere, she dredged up a smile, not sure why this miraculous homecoming wasn’t going at all the way she’d always imagined it would, back when she’d refused to give up hope that they’d find Tucker alive.

“You and Sean have a son,” he said, his voice wooden and bleak.

“No, not Sean and I. We have a son,” she corrected. “You and I. Tucker, this is Eli, your boy. He’s three months old as of last week.” Taking a deep breath, she braced herself for his reaction. “Though I suspected before you left, I learned I truly was pregnant right after you left for Mexico. Right before you…died.”

Clearly in shock, Tucker only stared, his chiseled features emotionless.

“The CEO’s secret baby,” Sean joked. Neither Lucy nor Tucker responded.

Oblivious to it all, Eli cooed again, turning his sweet little mouth into her neck, blindly searching for sustenance. Immediately, her breasts tingled as her milk came in. She’d have to let him nurse soon. But first, he needed to meet his father.

Still Tucker didn’t move, standing frozen near the entrance to the room, looking huge and awkward and completely out of place. Her heart melted a little bit more.

“It’s okay,” she said, reassuring both the man and the child. “Come meet him. He won’t bite.”

As Tucker stepped forward, she lowered their baby from her shoulder, holding him in the crook of her arm.

Still silent, Tucker shot her a questioning look before peering into his son’s small, round face. Eli gurgled, wide-eyed and grinning. His bright blue eyes, reflected back in Tucker’s, fixated for a moment on his father’s craggy face. Then he wrinkled his mouth again, and she knew he was on the verge of screaming in that ear-piercing way babies have. He was hungry, after all.

A second later, he began to cry. Shifting him in her arms, she rocked him slowly, murmuring wordless endearments and crooning soothing sounds.

Immediately, Tucker took a step backward, his expression closed and unreadable again. But not before she saw the flash of pain.

“Hey E, it’s all right.” Sean appeared in the doorway behind Tucker. Eli broke off midcry at the sound of Sean’s cheery voice. His chubby face smoothed out and he cooed, happy again. He really did like Sean. After all, until now Sean had been like a father figure to him. The only one he’d known in his short time on earth.

“Let me see him,” Sean said, flashing an easy smile at Tucker before reaching to take Eli from Lucy.

As Sean took the baby and began rocking him, Tucker’s expression shut down even further, becoming a frozen mask.

“He knows Sean, that’s all,” she said softly. “You’ve got to give him time to get to know you, too.”

Tucker made a sound, a cross between a grunt and a curse, which could have meant anything. Exhaling, Lucy stifled the urge to comfort him. Clearly, he felt Sean had robbed him of not only her, but his family. A family he hadn’t even known he had.

Oblivious to the undercurrent swirling in the room, or pretending to be, Sean looked from one to the other, smiling as he cradled the baby expertly in the crook of his arm. “I think we’ve all got some catching up to do,” he said. “Eli’s an amazing kid. You must be so proud. Welcome home, buddy.”

Gaze still shuttered, Tucker nodded. “Thanks.” He studied Eli for a moment more before his eyes found Lucy. The starkness of the pain she saw there felt like a knife twisting in her heart.

Her own gut twisted. True, she and Sean were engaged. But even before his so-called death, Tucker had been well aware she’d wanted the entire white picket fence and family thing. He’d told her right before he left for Mexico that he wasn’t sure he could provide that. Now, more than a year later, he’d returned from the dead to learn another man had stepped up to the plate.

So she’d gotten engaged to his best friend. She had a child to think about now. At least Sean had been willing to provide for and, more important, love another man’s baby.

She opened her mouth to say exactly that, but Tucker beat her to it.

“We need to talk,” he said, his low voice simmering with anger and pain.

At the harsh tone, Eli whimpered and turned his face searchingly in her general direction before letting out a lusty cry, then another.

“He’s hungry,” she said, as her feeding-time breast-tingling intensified, making her pray she didn’t leak. “I’d better nurse him.”

Sean transferred the baby effortlessly to her. When she finished getting him settled, she turned her back to the two men and unfastened her blouse and nursing bra. As soon as Eli latched on to her nipple, she grabbed a baby blanket from the crib and covered herself and Eli. She turned back to face the two men, only to find Tucker watching, his expression shuttered.

Once again, she ached to go to him, pull him into an embrace like she used to, as she’d dreamed of doing for so many agonizing, painful nights after learning of his death—but she couldn’t. She belonged to another man now. She’d given her word.

As if he sensed her inner turmoil, Sean came up behind her. He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her and Eli close. Staking his claim. Tucker watched with narrowed eyes, but made no protest. Had she really expected him to? He had no right.

In the past year, she’d welcomed Sean’s comfort too many times to count. Hell, she’d needed it. There’d been days when she honestly thought she couldn’t go on. Sean had always been there for her. He’d been a good friend, though she’d known he wanted to be more. He’d persisted and finally, after the one-year anniversary of Tucker’s death had passed, she’d given in.

If she couldn’t have Tucker, Sean made a solid choice. Like her, he valued hearth, home and family.

Looking up to find both men watching her, she sighed. For an instant, she compared them. One tall and lean and dark, the other compact, with dirty-blond hair.

She should be happy. Scratch that, she should be ecstatic. Tucker was here, he was alive and she wished she could celebrate his return without a single reservation. Only she couldn’t. She glanced at Sean, saw only love warming his gaze, and kept herself still. She’d be fine. They’d all be fine.

She told herself she was not torn. True, everything had changed. Everything. Tucker was alive, and they had a child together. Of course, that would mean some sort of a relationship had to continue between them, for Eli’s sake. Nothing more. Tucker had to understand that. She’d accepted Sean’s proposal. He was a good man and she didn’t want to hurt him.

Eyeing the man she’d once thought she loved more than life itself, she relaxed into another man’s embrace and tried to reconcile her conflicted emotions. She’d loved Tucker once, but now she loved Sean, too. Her love for him might be less fiery, less passionate, but as a mother she trusted that the slow, steady warmth would endure for years, rather than flaming out of control in an unguarded moment.

Her choice had been solid, and not made impulsively. Sean would make a good husband, a fantastic father for Eli, who already appeared to love him.

Eli finished nursing and fell back asleep. Moving him to her shoulder, she refastened her bra and shirt before removing the blanket. Gently patting his back, she burped him. When she finished, she moved away, toward the crib.

“I’ll be right back,” she said softly. “Don’t talk about anything important without me.” She was only half kidding.

Moving swiftly, she placed Eli back in his crib and got him settled before she turned to face the two men waiting, still standing silently. The atmosphere felt charged with tension. Uncomfortable.

“He should sleep a little longer,” she said, trying to start a conversation.

Still, neither man spoke. She looked from Sean to Tucker and back again, feeling as though she was watching a tennis match.

“It’s good to have you home,” she said to Tucker. He dipped his chin in acknowledgment, but still didn’t respond.

“So,” Sean said, finally breaking the awkward silence. “About that explanation?”

Expression grim, Tucker headed for the den, then perched on the arm of the sofa. “I don’t know where to begin.”

Sean leaned forward, looking from Lucy to Tucker. “If you’re willing to talk, we’d love to hear what you have to say.”

We’d. Lucy caught the possessive pronoun, aware Tucker probably did, too. Again, the not-so-subtle staking of the claim. Or maybe she was just being hypersensitive.

“I’ve already told Lucy.” Running a hand through his dark, unruly hair, Tucker turned away. When he glanced back over his shoulder, the vivid blue of his gaze sent a shiver through her.

Expression surprised, Sean glanced from one to the other. “I guess she can fill me in later. Still, maybe you can give me the short version. Starting with the plane crash. All we were told was that there’d been a crash and all on board were killed. They found your wallet and your cell phone amid the wreckage. Everything else, including any bodies, was burned beyond recognition.”

“There was no plane crash. Or, let me put it another way. The plane Carlos and I were on landed safely.” Using much less detail than he’d given Lucy, Tucker filled Sean in on his capture and subsequent imprisonment.

Listening as he told the story again, Lucy closed her eyes.

“All right.” Sean accepted Tucker’s tale without hesitation. “But after the DEA got you out, they must have told you why. Someone had to know why the cartel held you prisoner for so long.”

Tucker gave him a long look. “Because they thought I took their money.”

This was new. Lucy opened her eyes to see a look pass between the two men. Not good, though Lucy couldn’t put a name to it.

“And now you’re home.” Sean finished the story.

“And now I’m home. Are you disappointed?” Tucker asked smoothly.

Sean laughed, as though he thought Tucker was kidding. “Right. Disappointed? Hell, this is freaking amazing. You could write a book and make a ton of money.”

Lucy noticed Sean didn’t answer the question. Tucker probably caught it, too.

“The plane crash was a setup,” Tucker said finally. He sounded certain. “And no one has been able to explain to me why someone found it necessary to make everyone believe I was dead. It all goes back to this missing money.”

“Seriously?” Sean leaned forward again, curiously expectant. “How much money are you talking about?”

Though Tucker spared him a glance, he continued to focus on Lucy. “Ten million dollars.”

Sean whistled, clearly stunned.

Shocked herself, Lucy continued to watch Tucker, unable to keep her gaze from moving over him like a caress. She’d missed him. So damn much.

“Yeah.” Tucker shook his head, shaking off the bad memories like a dog shaking off water. “Apparently, the drug cartel was using coffee beans to smuggle drugs. The scent can throw the drug-sniffing dogs off. I was questioned not only by customs agents, but the DEA, FBI and CIA.”

“Ten million dollars is a lot of money.” Sean raised a brow. “Did they ever find it?”

“Not that I know of.” He sounded unconcerned. “I didn’t take it. Right now, the money is the least of my problems.”

“Really?” Sean cocked his head, sounding intrigued. “I’d think a missing ten million would be high up there on the priority list.”

“Maybe if it were mine or even if I knew where it was. Which it isn’t and I don’t. So no. Their missing money is their problem. I was lucky that the DEA had agents undercover to rescue me. After I got back, I’d heard the Mexican police wouldn’t let the US FAA inspectors examine the supposed plane crash. Apparently, the drug cartel controls that area with an iron fist.”

“How’d they find you?” Lucy asked, her heart skipping as he turned his gaze on her.

“I don’t have any idea. Since I’d already been declared dead, it wasn’t like there was a missing US citizen that they knew of.”

“Someone went to a great amount of trouble,” Sean said.

“They even brought us a box of your effects.” Reaching down inside her shirt, Lucy brought forth the ring she’d been wearing on a chain around her neck ever since it had been given to her. “Your college ring.”

Fumbling with the clasp, she finally got it open. Removing the heavy ring, she handed it to him. “Here. You’ll be wanting this back.”

Watching as he slid the ring back on to his finger, she had to struggle to maintain her composure.

“We had no way of knowing,” she repeated, feeling absurdly guilty. Which was ridiculous. If there’d even been a single indication that she should have hope, she would have fought the devil himself to find him. Surely he understood this.

Instead, when they’d come to her with news of Tucker’s death, she’d fallen apart. Even remembering the worst day in her life brought back the heavy remembrance of her pain, making her feel queasy.

Jerking his chin in a quick nod, almost as if he heard her thoughts and understood, Tucker spoke again. “Obviously our people were misled, too, unless our government was entirely in the cartel’s pocket. They only told you what they believed to be true. That I was killed in a freak accident.” Pain warred with fury in the rawness of his voice.

She could tell from his voice that he was done, that he wanted this to be enough to make his life go back to normal. And maybe it would have been, if she hadn’t gotten engaged to Sean. She’d truly believed him dead. She’d mourned him, felt her life was over, and carried and birthed his child without him.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, aware an apology was all she could give him at the moment.

Gaze still locked with her, he swallowed hard but didn’t speak. Finally, he dipped his head in what could have been a nod. “I’m sorry, too.”

“You survived. That’s what matters.” She hoped he could hear the truth in her voice.

“Yes,” Sean interjected. “You made it back in one piece.”

“Barely, but yes, I did,” he agreed. He closed his eyes, as if by doing so he could shut out the images of whatever horrors haunted him.

Standing next to her fiancé, with his arm around her, Lucy still ached for Tucker and longed to comfort him. Of course she wouldn’t, she couldn’t even as a friend. Things were different now. They’d never be the same again. She wondered if he regretted this as much as she. Doubtful, considering the issues still unresolved when he’d left for Mexico.

Eli chose that moment to let out a wail. Lucy pushed to her feet, waiting to see if he’d continue or—hope springs eternal—go back to sleep. Another loud cry came from the nursery, then another. Eli was awake again, and he never went back to sleep if allowed to cry too long. Which meant they’d all been granted a reprieve. For now.

Giving him one last lingering look through her lashes, she stood. “Eli calls. If you’re hungry, there’s plenty of food in the fridge. Make yourself a sandwich or something. I’ll be right back.



Tucker watched her go. Motherhood suited her. She’d always been beautiful, but now she had a softness about her. The adoration in her face as she gazed at Eli made his chest tighten. Once, she’d looked at him like that.

As soon as Lucy left the room, Sean cornered Tucker. He’d expected it, so he was reasonably prepared.

“What the hell are you up to?” Sean demanded. “Whatever you’re really involved in, you’d better not be doing anything that could endanger Lucy and Eli—your son.”

Tucker eyed the man who’d been not only his business partner, helping him start the flourishing coffee company from the ground up, but his best friend since childhood. “You should know better than anyone that I’d never do anything like that.”

“I don’t.” Sean’s words leached bitterness. “But even I can tell you’re not giving us the entire story. When the government people informed us of your supposed death, they also mentioned this drug cartel. If you actually were kept a prisoner, I’m assuming they had a reason to think you had their money, though I can’t imagine what that might have been. So why don’t you enlighten me?”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

His friend’s accusatory tone stunned him. “You know me better than that.” Shaking his head, Tucker started to walk away. But something—Confusion? Anger? Hurt?—on Sean’s familiar face made him stop. “I don’t understand why you’re acting like this. None of what happened to me was my fault.”

“Maybe not, but still…” Sean gave him a hard look. “What are you hiding?”

This time, though Sean was right, Tucker countered with an accusation of his own. “Why are you so suspicious?”

“Because I care about Lucy and Eli, damn it. If you being here jeopardizes their safety, we have the right to know.”

As if Tucker was the outsider. Though he tried to pretend it didn’t bother him, truth was, it did. Hurt like hell, in fact.

“I’m here because this is my home,” he said simply. “Where I used to live, remember? And Lucy was my girlfriend and you were my best friend. And whether you like it or not, Eli is my son. I’m back now. Here to stay. You’d better get used to that.”

“You can’t live here with her anymore. She’s my fiancée now.” There. Sean had actually said it. Tucker supposed he should be glad it was all out in the open.

And so it was. Tucker struggled to control the sudden surge of rage. The last thing he’d expected had been to come home to this.

“I realize that,” he replied, his tone steady, even, and completely rational.

“Great.” Unaware of Tucker’s internal struggle, Sean placed a hand on his shoulder. Though he meant to be brotherly, Tucker couldn’t restrain himself. He knocked it off.

“Look,” Sean said, his voice ringing with disapproval. “There’s no need to be like that. Circumstances have changed. Obviously. No matter how you feel about the way things are now, we can still be friends.”

“Can we?” Seeing red, Tucker crossed his arms to keep from doing anything he’d regret, like punching Sean in the face. “Tell me this then. What kind of friend moves in on his best buddy’s girlfriend?”

Flushing, Sean took a step back. “I’ve always loved her,” he said. “Only as long as you were around, she never noticed me. I saw my chance and took it. You can’t blame me for that. It’s been a year,” he said, shrugging. “You were dead.”

“A year is not long enough.” Tucker spoke through clenched teeth, trying to keep his rage under control. “Not nearly long enough. What happened to loyalty? To love?”

“Maybe you’re asking the wrong question,” Sean answered quietly. “Maybe you should wonder what was wrong in the relationship between you and Lucy that made it so easy for her to find solace in my arms barely one year after your so-called death?”

Talk about a knife slipped under the ribs…

Stunned, Tucker could only stare. Sean was right. Lucy should still be in mourning, if she’d truly loved him. She’d gone from “I’ll love you forever” to “I loved you for a year and now I’ve got to move forward with my life.”

How easy had that been for her? Had she even mourned him at all? Obviously there must have been some cracks, some flaws that he hadn’t seen a year ago. He thought back to their last conversation before he’d left for Mexico and the allure of exotic coffee.

They’d fought about his wanderlust. And, while he’d known she wanted more from him, he hadn’t been certain he was able to give it to her. She’d made no secret of her desire to start a family. He hadn’t hidden the fact that he didn’t feel he was ready.

Now, he couldn’t believe how much it hurt that she’d done so without him. She’d moved on. While he was still stuck in the past, running like hell to catch up.

Damn it. Events had once again spiraled out of his control. Lucy and Sean—picturing them together made him feel like the two of them had jointly ripped his heart from his chest and danced on it.

He’d do better to focus on something he could be in charge of. Finding out if he’d been set up, or if his capture and subsequent imprisonment had been simply a huge, cosmic accident.

He was betting on the former.

And there was the missing money. Who had taken it and had they arranged for Tucker to take the fall for them?

Sean still watched him, rocked on the heels of his feet in an adversarial way, as though he thought Tucker might take a swing at him at any moment and he wanted to be ready.

He was right, Tucker thought with grim amusement. Because it took everything he had not to. Taking a deep breath, he ruthlessly pushed his emotions away and got himself under control.

He could do little to change the past. Right now, he needed to focus on the future.

Before being released from their custody, the DEA had given him a decision to make. He’d told them he’d have to think about it. Ironically, finding Lucy and Sean together had helped him make up his mind.

He needed to make a phone call and let them know.

Since he’d been told not to use the landline and didn’t yet have a cell phone, he’d have to get out of the house. Pearl Street Mall was just a few blocks away and he knew neither Lucy nor Sean would find it unusual if he said he needed to take a walk to clear his head and help him think.

“I need some fresh air,” he told Sean. “Tell Lucy I’m going for a walk.”

Sean nodded, making no move to stop him.

Once outside, he took a deep breath. What a train wreck that had been. During his imprisonment, he’d pictured his and Lucy’s reunion a hundred, no a thousand times. Never, even in his wildest dreams, had he imagined this.

Out of shape and cursing his body’s weakness, he started off slowly toward Pearl Street. He’d barely gone a hundred yards and he found himself out of breath. Once he’d been used to the high altitude, but no longer. The lack of oxygen combined with his still-weak physical state made him take much longer to walk even a single block.

Finally, he reached the crosswalk that heralded the entrance to the outdoor mall. As it was a holiday, Pearl Street Mall was packed with tourists. Most locals avoided the area like the plague on a day like today.

Finding an actual payphone in the cellular age was more difficult than he expected, but finally he located one on the east end.

Punching in a number from memory, he spoke quietly to the man who answered. “I’ve thought about your proposition and I’ve decided to do it. Let’s set up a meeting and you can give me the particulars. I'd like to get started immediately.”




Chapter 3


Still holding their son close to her chest, Lucy watched out the front window as Tucker strode up the sidewalk. She watched as he faltered and nearly stumbled, and ached to go to him, to help him. Her chest felt tight, the back of her throat clogged with emotion. She couldn’t cry, wouldn’t cry, at least not now, not in front of Sean.

“Are you all right?” Sean asked softly from behind her. Ah, she couldn’t hide anything from him, he understood her so well. Not surprisingly, since he’d known her as long as Tucker.

She drew a shaky breath, centering herself before answering. “I think so. This has all been such a shock, you know?”

“I know.” Putting his arms around her, he turned her, baby and all, and held her. He smelled faintly of expensive cologne and his button-down shirt felt stiff with starch. He always looked perfectly put together, his sandy-blond hair styled and his khakis pressed. He was Tucker’s polar opposite.

Horrified at herself, she pushed the thought away. Sean was, she reminded herself, her rock. Not once through her ordeal had his devotion faltered. He’d been there for her, asking nothing, while she’d mourned Tucker during her pregnancy. He’d held her hand through the Lamaze classes, and attended Eli’s birth as her coach. He’d asked nothing from her until after the baby had been born, and then he’d only asked if they could become a permanent family.

When she’d turned him down, she couldn’t help but realize the irony. Once, she’d asked the same thing of Tucker, who had turned her away as well.

Sean was cookouts and cocktail parties, while Tucker was camping and football games. Of course they were different. If Tucker had been the sun blazing in the summer sky, Sean was the moon—peaceful, gentle and always there, no matter the season.

Though seeing Tucker again had stirred up old emotions, she couldn’t hurt Sean, wouldn’t hurt him, not to go chasing after a fly-by-night wisp of a dream.

Still, she couldn’t help herself from glancing out the window over Sean’s shoulder. Outside, though the occasional car drove past, she saw no one on foot. Once again, Tucker had breezed into her life like a hurricane, and barely an hour after his arrival, he was off and running.

Worse, she could sense he hadn’t told them everything. She knew him just that well.

“Tucker seems…different,” Sean said, almost as if he’d read her mind. “He’s hiding something,” he continued, reminding her that he knew Tucker as well as she did. They’d all grown up together, the three best friends their mothers had jokingly called the Stooges. Back in the day, they’d been inseparable.

“He didn’t steal the money.” She felt the need to defend him, even though Sean probably knew this as well. “Tucker’s not the kind of man to steal.”

Sean smoothed back her hair. “Who knows what he is these days. A year as a captive would change anyone. And ten million dollars is a lot of temptation.”

She shuddered, glad Sean held her so close that he couldn’t see her face. “Please. Don’t say that. You know him as well as I do. After all he’s been through…”

Sean didn’t answer, just tightened his arms around her and Eli, holding them close. Like a family.

Then to her horror, her eyes filled. She felt the first tear stream down her cheek and swiped her hand at it. Pushing out of Sean’s embrace, she placed Eli, now quiet, in his playpen; she sniffled, trying to regain control of her emotions.

“Lucy? Look at me, please?” Sean’s voice, oddly gentle, compelled her to raise her head. But then, as if she couldn’t help herself, her gaze slid past him and to the window once again, searching for a lean, broad-shouldered man who should be returning home and wasn’t.

That did it. She gasped, powerless to stop it as her eyes filled and the floodgates opened.

Sean pulled her close again and held her while she wept, bless him. Then, when she tried to step away to tidy up, he went and got the box of tissues and instead of handing it to her, carefully and gently wiped her eyes and face as if she was a small child.

“Better now?” he asked.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Again, she used Eli as an excuse, crossing to the playpen. His bright blue eyes were open, so she turned on the musical duck mobile and placed several brightly colored toys in the baby’s line of vision.

“There,” she said, once she’d finished. “That should keep him occupied for a little while.” Somehow she took a step, and then another, amazed that her shaky legs still supported her. Once she’d reached the couch, she let herself drop into the soft cushions.

“This just doesn’t seem real,” she said. “I can’t believe Tucker’s alive.”

A shadow crossed Sean’s handsome face. “Do you still love him?” he asked bluntly. “Because I’m not willing to be second best now that he’s back. I have a right to know.”

Of course he did, but the fact that he asked her this right now felt as though he was blindsiding her.

“I…still have feelings for him,” she admitted. “But not romantic ones,” she hastened to add, as Sean’s face fell. “You know I still love him, Sean. Just as you do.”

“As a friend,” he said, his tone hard. “And somehow I don’t think that’s the same kind of love that you’re talking about. You and he have been together since middle school.”

Her gut clenched. “And now we’re not.”

“You have a child together.” Plainly, Sean wasn’t about to let this go. “That’s bound to bring you closer.”

His earnest brown eyes were guarded and full of hope and fear in equal measures. She felt a moment of pity, which she squashed, aware he wouldn’t welcome that.

She couldn’t blame Sean for feeling threatened. Their engagement was too new, too fragile. He knew how much she’d loved Tucker. The question of whether she loved him still, she couldn’t really answer. She’d barely gotten used to the idea of finding him alive.

“I can only tell you what I know. You have to understand that Tucker and I will always share Eli,” she answered softly. “But before he left for Mexico, Tucker made it plain he wasn’t ready to settle down.”

A muscle worked in Sean’s square jaw. “What if he is now?”

Smiling sadly at the question, she shook her head. “Think about what you just said. He reappears after a year, learns we believed him dead, and by way of explanation, he gives us this fantastic and almost unbelievable story. Still, I’m willing to accept that, because it’s Tucker.

“Then, just as we’re all starting to relax and make an attempt to get used to the idea, he tells us he has to go for a walk to clear his head and boom—he disappears. He wasn’t even here an hour. And he’s gone. Just like always. He hasn’t changed.” She hoped he couldn’t hear the bitter pain in her voice.

For a moment, that baby mobile was the only sound, as they stared at each other across the living room.

“I don’t know what else to tell you.” She spread her hands. “Right now, just like before, I’m back to taking it one day at a time. I suggest you save yourself a lot of worry and try to do the same.”

Sean didn’t appear too convinced. Still, he didn’t disagree with her statement, which was a sort of forward progress.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Sean. Tucker’s reappearance has hit me like a punch in the stomach. I’m not sure what to think or how to act….”

Suddenly, she jumped up, aware she had to keep moving or lose it again. “How about I make us a couple of sandwiches?” she asked brightly. “Just enough to tide us over until later?”

He nodded, apparently willing to let the topic go for now. “Do you still want to go to the fireworks display at Folsom Field?” he asked carefully.

Momentarily taken aback, she didn’t answer. On the one hand, any attempt at normalcy would be good. But on the other… Tucker was home. They should celebrate. Reacquaint themselves and get to know one another. Or something. But he wasn’t here, so she couldn’t exactly ask him what he wanted to do.

Frustrated, she tried to think. She should be happy, ecstatic even. She didn’t understand why she felt so much like crying. Worse, she hated that she felt she had to hide this riot of emotion from Sean.

“I don’t know,” she finally answered. “I guess we’d better wait and see if he even comes back.”

And as Sean nodded his head in agreement, she realized that they both had just acknowledged that there was a very real possibility Tucker would not.



Tucker found Connor O’Neill’s Irish Restaurant and Pub on 13th Street easily. The wooden floorboards creaked as he walked across them. Taking a seat at the corner of the curved mahogany bar so that he could keep his back to the wall and face the door, he ordered a wheat beer and drank it slowly, savoring the taste and enjoying the icy coolness of the frosted mug.

The restaurant was crowded with an early lunch crowd. Normally, he enjoyed people-watching, but his thoughts kept returning to Lucy. And Sean. Engaged. WTH?

Picturing them together made him feel sick. Still stunned from the revelation that he’d come home to learn he had nothing, he took another long drink of his beer, signaling the bartender for another. Lucy, the woman who’d always claimed he was The One, who’d claimed she’d love him forever, had moved on. Pretty damn quickly, as far as he was concerned.

Part of him couldn’t blame her. After all, she’d truly believed him to be dead. She had a baby to look after and, as she’d said, Sean clearly adored both her and Eli.

The other part of him couldn’t help but feel something was wrong. She and Sean? They’d been pals for years, for chrissake. Even if Sean had carried a torch for her, as far as Tucker’d been able to tell, they had zero chemistry between them.

So what gives?

The bartender brought his second beer just as he’d drained the first. Accepting it gratefully, he was about to take a drink when movement at the doorway caught his attention.

A man stepped into the bar, so tall he had to duck under the low doorway. Long-haired with an unkempt beard, he would have looked perfectly at home panhandling at the corner. When his clear gaze met Tucker’s, the sharp intelligence in his brown eyes contrasted with his appearance. This had to be his contact, the DEA agent he’d come to meet.

Sliding onto the bar stool next to Tucker, the man he knew on the phone only as Finn gave him a curt nod before ordering.

“How’d the homecoming go? It hasn’t even been an hour since my agents dropped you off and already you call wanting to meet. What happened?”

Tucker grimaced, not wanting to go into detail. “Things changed while I was gone. Enough said.”

Finn nodded. Waiting until the bartender brought the beer, collected Finn’s money, and moved off, Finn took a long drink before he replied. “Sorry to hear that. But I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to have a meeting.”

“Yep,” Tucker agreed. “I have a few questions first.”

Finn gave a barely perceptible nod. “Go ahead.”

“What’s your full name?”

“Finn Warshaw.” IF the DEA agent was surprised at the question, he didn’t show it. “What else?”

“Who has the missing ten million dollars?”

Narrowing his eyes, the other man studied him. “We don’t know,” he admitted. “But we are aware that the cartel thinks you might have a clue where it’s stashed.”

“Still?”

Finn nodded.

“I was afraid of that. Are they still searching for me?”

“Yes. At first, they thought you were killed in the shootout. Right now they have no idea where you are. But they will soon.”

Tucker clenched his jaw. “I can’t be captured again. I barely survived the last time. I’m telling you up front. I’ll shoot to kill before I let them take me. Understood?”

A barely imperceptible nod. “Understood.”

Taking a deep breath, Tucker leaned closer. “Then I’m in. Tell me what you want me to do.”

Finn took a long drink of his beer, then wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “First thing we need to do is move you out of Boulder. We’ve got a place set up for you in Niwot.”

Stunned, Tucker shook his head. “I just got back. I’d prefer not to leave town.”

At his words, Finn’s pleasant expression vanished. “Do you have family here, friends, a girlfriend? Need I remind you how ruthless the cartel is? If they find out you have someone you care about, they won’t hesitate to use her against you. You don’t want to endanger anyone else now, do you?”

He was right, damn it. He just had to figure out a way to tell Lucy.

“You can always just vanish, if it’d be easier,” Finn said.

“Out of the question.” Tucker didn’t even have to think about that one. “I disappeared once and she thought I was dead. I won’t do that to her again. I owe her some sort of explanation.”

“Not a good idea. If you say anything, remember that you can’t come even remotely close to telling the truth. You can’t tell anyone about this operation, understand? If you do, not only do you risk blowing your own cover, but also the agents we have in place now. You could endanger their lives. Do you understand?”

Tucker nodded. Finishing his beer, he stood and pushed back his bar stool. “Give me a couple of hours. Where do you want to meet?”

“How about here? I’ll pick you up out front in two hours. Don’t be late.”

Inclining his head, Tucker headed out the door, hoping that during the walk home, he could come up with an explanation that made sense to Lucy. He didn’t want her to think he was abandoning her and his son for a second time. Unfortunately, no matter how he was able to spin it, he knew that was exactly what she’d think he was doing.



Unable to relax, Lucy took to pacing in front of the living room bay window. Obviously humoring her, Sean simply watched, playing with baby Eli.

The first hour seemed to crawl by. At the ninety minute mark, she’d begun to toy with the idea of going in search of him. “He can’t just reappear in our lives and then vanish,” she said. “Maybe we should go see if we can find him.”

Sean shrugged. “He’s a grown man. I’m thinking he can do pretty much whatever the hell he wants.”

Torn between wanting to agree and wanting to argue, she glanced once more out the window. Her heart leapt in her chest at the sight of Tucker striding down the street toward them.

“He’s coming back,” she cried, absurdly on the verge of tears once again.

Sean gave her a long look. “Would you like to run outside and greet him?” he asked, sounding annoyed.

She couldn’t really blame him. She supposed she’d feel the same, if the situation were reversed. “Of course not.” Managing a smile, hoping to ease the tension that had instantly returned, she crossed the room and hugged him. “Don’t worry so much,” she murmured.

“I’m not worried,” he denied instantly. But she could feel tension in the stiff way he held her and she knew he was lying. He must feel really threatened because in the entire time she’d known him, Sean had never lied to her. Not even once.

A moment later, Tucker knocked softly on the front door. Again, she couldn’t help but remember how, before he’d gone to Mexico, he would have walked right in. Of course, he’d lived with her then. Now, he couldn’t. He’d have to find someplace else to live. Maybe he could stay with Sean.

Tucker knocked again.

“Let him in,” Sean said, sounding resigned.

Giving him a quick kiss, Lucy crossed to the door and opened it, finding a desolate look on Tucker’s face.

“Are you all right?” she asked, letting her gaze roam over him, still amazed at how much it hurt to do so.

“I’m fine.” He smiled, a wan ghost of his former smile, though she thought she saw a trace of warmth lurking in it.

Her heart skipped a beat as his incredibly blue gaze met and held hers. Again, she had to fight the urge to go to him and wrap her arms around him and breathe in his familiar, masculine scent.

Damn.

Flustered, she looked away, only to find Sean glaring at her as though he knew what she’d been thinking. Maybe, she thought guiltily, her thoughts had shown on her face. Tucker had always said she was a horrible poker player.

Tucker, again Tucker. He was all she could think about. It had to be because his sudden and unexpected appearance had been like a return from the dead. A miracle. Once she got over the initial shock, she’d return to normal.

Another glance at Sean, who fairly radiated jealousy and hurt, mixed with anger, told her the sooner the better.

Watching the silent interplay between Lucy and Sean not only made him feel like an outsider, but the underlying emotions puzzled him. Lucy seemed defensive while Sean…acted almost jealous. Of course, he couldn’t blame the other man. If the situation had been reversed, he’d have felt threatened, too. Any man would.

Maybe he could ease the tension a bit.

“I’m going to have to leave in a few minutes,” he said. “I’m going to go find a place to stay.”

Both Lucy and Sean stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“Today?” Lucy asked. “It’s a holiday. Nothing’s open.”

“Plus there’s no need,” Sean put in. “You can stay with me.”

This, he hadn’t expected. Unless Sean figured he could keep an eye on him better that way.

“Sounds good,” he lied, knowing Sean would be easier to convince of his need to live away from Lucy than Lucy herself. Also, if it came down to it, he rather suspected Sean wouldn’t actually care if he disappeared for a while.

Lucy would be more difficult to fool. She’d expect him to want to spend time with Eli. Hell, he wanted to get to know his son. Just not yet. He couldn’t risk putting the baby in danger.

Once this thing was settled… He shut down the thought, unwilling to think beyond what he had to do. He felt like he had to keep his focus tight if he wanted a chance at succeeding.

Glancing at his watch, he realized he had approximately forty minutes before he had to meet Finn.

Both Sean and Lucy noticed the gesture.

“No hurry,” Lucy hastened to assure him, apparently mistaking the gesture for something else. “You just got here. Why don’t you sit and talk awhile? We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

Right. Searching for a way to distract her, he spotted his flat-screen television still occupying center stage. Exactly where he’d put it after he’d purchased it.

“What about my stuff?” he asked Lucy. Before the trip to Mexico, he and Lucy had lived together. “My clothes, my books, do you still have any of it?”

“Of course I do,” she answered, instantly distracted and sounding eager. “I’ve boxed it up and put it in the basement. You’re totally welcome to sort through it and move what you want to Sean’s.”

“Sounds great. I won’t do it right now, but as soon as I can, all right?” Unfortunately, he knew he wouldn’t be able to go through his things anytime soon. Maybe after this DEA sting was all over. No, definitely after this was all over.

To his relief, she didn’t insist he follow her to the basement and begin searching through his stuff immediately.

“Sounds good,” Lucy said, shooting a questioning glance at Sean, who gave a slight nod.

Tucker had to clench his teeth to keep from commenting. Sean flashed him a quizzical look as though he sensed something.

Again he glanced at his watch. He had to get going.

“Listen, would you like to go to Folsom Field with us?” Lucy asked, clearly struggling to fill the awkward silence. “The fireworks display starts at dusk, like always.”

“It’ll be fun,” Sean put in, sounding anything but sincere.

“A great way to celebrate your return,” Lucy continued.

Staring at her, he knew he couldn’t. “I’m not sure taking an infant to a fireworks display would be wise,” he said. “You know the noise is bound to scare him. He’ll cry, and you’ll have to bring him home anyway.”

Lucy frowned. “We were going to watch from outside the stadium, where it’s not as loud.”

He pretended to consider the idea. “I think I’ll pass. You two have fun.”

As her frown deepened, he realized why. Before Mexico, July 4th had been his favorite holiday. He’d never missed a fireworks display or an excuse to celebrate.

“Things change,” he said softly. “You of all people should know that.”

She turned away, making him realize he’d once again hurt her, without intending to.

He pushed away the urge to comfort her. Once she thought about it, she’d realize he was right. All she had to do was look at the ring she wore on her third finger.

One final glance at his watch showed him he was running out of time.

“As a matter of fact,” he told Sean, keeping his expression pleasant. “I’ve intruded on you two enough for one day. You go on with your plans and I’ll catch up with you later.”

Lucy made a strangled sound, but didn’t turn around.

“Sounds good.” Sean nodded, looking relieved. “Do you have a cell phone?”

“Not yet.” Grateful that he’d been given an out, Tucker smiled. “As a matter of fact, that’s one of the things I intend to rectify. McGuckin’s Hardware is open. I think I’ll head over there and pick out a new phone.”

Still, Lucy wouldn’t look at him.

“Let me write our numbers down,” Sean continued. “That way, once you get your phone, you can call us and give us yours.”

Pocketing the slip of paper, Tucker again glanced at Lucy before heading toward the front door. “Catch you later,” he said to her back. She didn’t respond.

Closing the door behind him, he made his escape.

The walk back to Thirteenth Street took about fifteen minutes. He arrived to find the DEA man was already there.

Driving a nondescript, navy sedan that screamed “government issue,” Finn waited from a parking spot in front of the nail salon/spa next door to the pub.

Tucker climbed in the passenger side. Neither man spoke until they’d pulled out.

“We’re all set up,” Finn said. “My undercover guy is already spreading a rumor that you have the money and are ready to talk.”

“Ouch.” Tucker grimaced. “They’re going to want to capture me again.”

“We won’t let that happen.” Finn shot Tucker a glance. “If we can nab the guys at the top of this cartel, we can shut down a bunch of the border violence and stop truckloads of drugs coming into the U.S. through New Mexico and Texas.”




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