False Hope (McKay-Tucker Men Book 2) Read online

  But in the past few years, Meg’s happiest years, Meg cried more than she did during her first thirty-two years of life. She cried when she and Connor broke up. When they reunited. When they married. Found out they were pregnant. Found out they were having twins. Delivered twins. Stayed up all night with colicky twins.

  The list was endless, but the tears were mostly tears of joy. There were sad tears as well. Before Connor, Meg never lost her temper. At the time, she thought it would let others have control of her. But Connor managed to push her buttons and helped Meg feel safe enough to let loose, to get angry, sad, mad, and even scared. He taught her to lean on him even when she was mad at him, and that it was okay for her not to be in control every minute.

  Meg prayed for someone to come into her daughter’s life and do the same for her.

  “Come sit.” Meg led Emma in to the living room.

  “Actually, Mom, can we walk? I don’t think I can sit still right now.”

  “Sure. I need to let Connor know.”

  They found Connor and the kids sitting on the playroom floor playing Mario on the Wii. She leaned over her husband’s shoulder and kissed his cheek.

  “Emma and I are going to get some fresh air.”

  He looked at her with sympathetic eyes. “I love you. Both of you.”

  “I know.” He still managed to make her heart flutter. Connor exemplified the alpha male, yet his heart was soft and fragile. His concern for her feelings ran deep. Six years ago he beat J.T. Spiller to a pulp, choosing Meg over his fifteen-year friendship with his NFL teammate. She knew he had to be affected by the news his former friend was dying, but Connor seemed more concerned about taking care of Emma and Meg. She ran her hand lightly over his broad shoulders and gathered her strength so she could be the supportive mother her daughter needed her to be.

  * * * *

  Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Stay tough. Stay strong. The guilt of lashing out at her mother made Emma’s heart lodge into her throat. She gritted her teeth, clenched her hands, and held her head high as she and her mother roamed along the lake. It wasn’t a quiet walk since locals and vacationers were enjoying the lake on the beautiful summer’s day to swim, water ski, and race across the water in their boats. Jet skis were banned on Moose pond three years ago. An ordinance passed by locals who deemed them too noisy and a disruption to the serenity most people sought along the lake. Some went as far as to petition a ban against boats as well, but since most of the homeowners along the lake owned a boat, they shut it down.

  Still, it was peaceful. When her mother married Connor and they moved to the big house on the lake, Emma took advantage of it and spent as many summer days as she could water skiing and wake boarding with her friends. And spending time with her mom and new stepdad. Connor accepted Emma as his own immediately after, if not before, falling in love with her mother. He and his family welcomed Emma into their home and hearts, and made up for the twenty-some-odd years before when all she had was her mother and two ailing great-grandparents. They were very lovely people, but they were older and quite old-fashioned, not the type of people Emma could ever hang out or bare her soul with.

  Nana Tucker and Bumpa were the cutest grandparents she ever met. The fact that she knew them before her mother and Connor even met made their relationship even more special. Emma cherished her horseback riding lessons with Bumpa, or George as she called him before they were family. Betsy, now her very special Nana Tucker, was the epitome of grandmothers, welcoming her with ice-cold lemonade and homemade cookies after every riding lesson.

  George had been kind in teaching her about horses and training her to ride. Becoming best friends with Paige, their granddaughter, and Connor’s niece, was the icing on the cake. Or maybe gaining Connor as her stepdad was the icing and Paige was the cake? Whatever the order, Emma felt truly blessed with her new family.

  Life before the McKay-Tucker clan turned into a blur. Emma was sure she cried when she was a little girl, but her life had been good. Sure, she’d had her share of heartbreak with boys, but never over anyone special. Lots of lust. And the great thing about lust, it didn’t hurt when it ended.

  Crying wasn’t a part of Emma’s life.

  Until two days ago.

  And now, looking back, Emma wasn’t sure what exactly she’d cried about on the beach with Mason. A pity cry? Uck. That was so not like her.

  “I dunno, Mom. I really don’t know where to start.”

  “At the end? The middle? Wherever you want, sweetheart.”

  “How much did Mason tell you?”

  Meg laughed. “Mason? He did the honorable thing by letting us know he was taking you to see…James.”

  Emma felt guilty for making her mother relive it all again. J.T., the rape, her life before Connor.

  “Mason did tell us about his disease. I don’t mean to sound cold, but I Googled it immediately, praying it wasn’t a hereditary disease. Thankfully, it isn’t. I’m sure you did as well.” They walked in silence for a distance.

  “I wasn’t lying earlier. I really did cry. But I’m kinda confused as to why. And that makes me mad.”

  She saw her mother smile. “Yes, it would.”

  “I just…I wasn’t expecting that. I figured he’d open the door and be kinda like Connor. Big, strong. Like a tough guy football player. First I pitied him. Then he dropped the bomb about raping you, and I instantly hated him. But he’s so sickly and I felt bad for him. That pissed me off.” Emma stopped and picked up a rock, skipping it into the water. Two skips. “Really pissed me off. Did Mason tell you about the scrapbooks?”

  “No.”

  Emma picked up a rock and studied its features. Round, smooth as glass, and beautiful in its own way. To some, it was simply a rock with little to no purpose, but to her it was perfect. Perfect for skipping across the lake. Connor taught her the art of rock skipping back when he was still wooing her mom. “Throw it low and parallel to the water's surface. Throw sidearm so your hand travels past your waist and the rock travels horizontally across the water. Release it with a snap of the wrist to give it a horizontal spin. Keep your elbow next to your hip as the rock leaves your hand. It’s a beautiful sight watching it sail across the water.” She could hear his voice coaching her through the movement.

  The rock left her hand with a whoosh and whistled through the air, skimming the water lightly, making three gentle skips.

  “He kept track of us. He has articles about you and your career. They were copied like he researched them after the fact and printed them up.” Emma slipped out of her flip-flops and felt the warm grass under her feet. She tested the water with her toes and slowly waded in up to her knees. Meg followed. “He has every newspaper article ever written about my high school sports teams. And about me co-owning Creative Care Physical Therapy.” Emma didn’t wait for a reply. “It was sad. And nice. And a little creepy.

  “Mason said J.T. didn’t know about me until Connor confronted him a few years ago.” Emma sighed and skipped another rock. “I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to like him or hate him more, and that really pissed me off. Anyway, Mason got me out of there and then I had a good cry. I think it was a pity cry. And that really, really pissed me off.”

  Her mom laughed. Emma didn’t do the deep conversation bit. She preferred blunt, to-the-point statements, something she learned from her mom.

  “So, here I am. Confused. Not sure what to do next. And you know what really, really, really pisses me off?” Emma turned to regard her mother for the first time since they left the house. “I’m more concerned about myself than you. Mom, the monster raped you. Raped you and ruined your life. Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She put up a hand stopping her mother from interrupting her. “Your life turned out great. Look at me and how blessed you are to have me. You never would have met Connor. Blah, blah, blah. Yes, I know it’s all true, but he took away your life. Your teen years. Your roaring twenties when you should have been sowing your wild oats, not singing me nursery rhymes and dining on ma
c and cheese and hot dogs every night.”

  Emma relaxed her shoulders and smiled at her mother. “I love you, Mom, and am so grateful for everything you have done and sacrificed for me. Thank you for not telling me the truth about my birth father. I don’t think I could have handled the truth when I was young. You’re so good and perfect, and I’m so happy you finally have the perfect life you deserve. Okay. Done with the mushy stuff. See, didn’t even need to cry.” She smiled as her mother wiped her own tears.

  “Oh, baby girl,” her mother cooed and hugged her tightly. “You’re my angel. I could never have made it through the darkest days of my life without you.” Meg pulled back, wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands, and cupped Emma’s face. “I support whatever decision you make. If you want to pursue a relationship with him, leave him alone, wish him dead…”

  Emma laughed and smiled at her mother with admiration. Connor was really, really good for her. And Emma knew of a man who could probably have the same influence on her.

  “I’m not fragile like I used to be.” Meg reached into the water and pulled out a stone. Her mother never did get the knack of artful rock skipping. “I’m your rock. So are Connor and Cole and Paige and Mason.”

  Yes, and Mason. Emma smiled, kissed her mother on the cheek, and waded out of the water. She had a rock to see.

  Chapter 6

  “I gotta see a man about a horse,” Cole said as he moved Emma’s head from his shoulder.

  “You’re disgusting.” Emma sighed as she sat up on the couch.

  “What?” He smirked. “Would you rather I say, I need to take a—”

  “Stop! Cole, you’re gross. I’m not one of the guys. Do you forget I’m a girl?”

  “Sugar.” He lightly chucked her cheek. “I didn’t see any stars in the sky tonight, the most heavenly body is sitting right next to me.” He laughed when she rolled her eyes. “It’s so easy to be myself around you. I’ll try to use my manners with you, okay?” he teased.

  “Whatever.” Emma picked up the remote to change the channel.

  “Hey, the game’s not over yet.”

  “It’s the top of the ninth. The Red Sox are up by five. I don’t think the Angels are going to do anything spectacular. They’ve been off all night.”

  “Well, you’re grouchy,” Cole said, half-teasing, half-serious. “Let me take care of business here, and then I’m taking you out. You’ve been moping all week.”

  Cole headed down the hall to the bathroom and called out, “Don’t change the channel!”

  Emma crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back on the couch. Cole’s apartment mirrored Emma’s, minus the coordinating colors and homey touches. The plaid couch screamed yard sale find as did the scarred coffee table, and the fancy leather recliner indicated the apartment was furnished more so with one lone person in mind. If not for the expensive flat screen television mounted on the wall and his Harley Davison parked outside, anyone would think Cole was completely destitute. No, Cole Tucker was the classic bachelor.

  She considered him one of her best friends. Paige was her confidant, the one she often went to when in need of advice or support or someone to vent to, but Cole was her fun, carefree friend. They were competitive and athletic and weren’t the type to turn emotional and touchy-feely. But there were times when she needed a girl’s sympathetic ear and supporting hug. Unfortunately, Paige was away at a conference for the past few days. They talked on the phone every night and Paige sent encouraging text messages throughout the day, but Emma needed a body.

  Cole’s body would have to do. She lay in his lap for over two hours watching the Red Sox game. He called the umpire names and mocked the Angels recklessly, making Emma laugh. For two glorious hours she’d been distracted and thought nothing of her problems, but the pity party started to set in again.

  “Okay, poptart. We’re going out. It’s Friday night. I’m gonna show my girl some fun tonight.” Cole twisted the cap off his bottle of bud and took a long pull.

  “It’s only four. I’m not in any mood for partying.”

  “I’ll call Paige. She should be back by now, right? And Mason. The four of us can hit the bars in Concord.”

  Emma stretched out her legs on the stained coffee table. “Really, Cole. I’m not in the mood to get fondled and ogled by a bunch of college boys.”

  “Well then, I can ogle and fondle you.” He smiled. “We gotta get you cheered up. It’s not like you to be so down. I know it’s a little rough right now with J.T. and all, but you don’t need him. You’ve got us.” Cole sat down next to Emma and pulled her legs onto his lap. “I promise to show you a good time.” He winked and flashed his boyish grin that earned him the rights to any woman he wanted.

  Emma laughed. “Okay, we can go out tonight but something more mellow.”

  Cole rubbed her legs in a brotherly, yet flirty way. “How about North Country? We’ll shoot some pool, toss some darts, and do a little dancing?”

  “That country bar in Jackson?” Emma moved her legs and pointed her painted pink toes. “Sure. Sounds like a good idea. You’ll call Mason, and I’ll call Paige?” She felt his eyes take in her body as she stretched and smiled at his gawking. They had an odd relationship most of their friends and family didn’t understand but worked perfectly for them. She felt desired and beautiful, but knew Cole didn’t treat her like one of his typical women. Not that he never tried. They went down that road a few years back, but it hadn’t worked for them. When they got down to the business of clothing removal, they started laughing and couldn’t follow through. They were helpless flirts and best of friends, but never lovers. But they still appreciated the beauty and allure of each other’s fine-tuned bodies.

  “All right, big fella, I’m going home to pretty myself up. Since tonight is about getting me out of my pity party, you’re the DD. You can drive my car.” Emma sashayed, purposefully, out the door and let herself into her side of the duplex.

  While she truly enjoyed Cole’s attention, it was that of another Tucker she really wanted.

  An hour later, Paige walked through her door. A breath of fresh air, Paige’s vibrant, innocent personality always had a way of cheering Emma up. They looked and acted like polar opposites. Emma was brusque, athletic, yet when dolled up like tonight, could get her sexy on. She could be sexy, but not high maintenance, and fun and outgoing. Paige was more Amy Adams. Cute, sweet, not crazy about the outdoors, and breaking into a sweat, but a romantic at heart.

  “Well now. I’d ask how you’re feeling, but I think your outfit says it all. Someone wants to get lucky tonight. Come give Paigey a hug. I missed you.” Paige reached out her arms and welcomed Emma in a strong embrace. But being the ever-observant friend, obviously aware of the stiffness in Emma’s body, Paige pulled back and raised an eyebrow. “You did your hair. That screams, ‘I’m hoping to hook-up.’ The skinny jeans are yelling, ‘Yes, I’ve got an amazing ass. Please stare at me.’ And the tight sequined tank top says…?”

  “I’m flat chested,” Emma moaned.

  Paige laughed. “No, it says, ‘check out my incredibly toned arms.’ So who’s the mystery man?”

  “What?” Emma snorted. “I haven’t had a mystery man in ages. A girl can’t get pretty without having an ulterior motive?”

  “You have smoky eyes,” Paige gasped. “I was so busy checking out your hair, you’re totally working the wave, by the way, that I missed your eyes! You are so hoping to hook up!” Paige bounced up and down with excitement.

  “Please,” Emma snorted again. “And what’s with you? You’re fresh and adorable and perfect. But that really isn’t anything new.”

  Paige’s denim miniskirt would have looked slutty on anyone else but Paige; she didn’t have the attitude to turn the skirt into something less than it was. Her sleeveless pink button down shirt, hoop earrings, and adorable cowboy boots complemented her outfit. “You’re so stinkin’ cute I don’t know how I can be your friend anymore.”

  “Sexy is way better tha
n cute. Guys don’t want cute,” Paige complained.

  “Guys don’t respect sexy,” Emma countered.

  “Wow, we’re happy tonight,” Paige said sarcastically. “How are you doing, really? Or should I ask? Your ‘hotter than hell’ outfit tells me you don’t want to talk about serious stuff, so I won’t. But if you do, I’m here for you.” Paige ran her hand down Emma’s long dark hair and sighed. “I hate being your friend. Your hair disgusts me.”

  Emma laughed. Paige had never been happy with her curly, light brown hair. She tried straightening, highlighting, chopping it off, but it always remained unruly, while Emma’s hair had always been long, thick, and a little wavy. Emma hated it. It wasn’t straight. It wasn’t curly. But somewhere in between. Tonight she used hot rollers and emphasized her waves. Spending an hour on her hair seemed like a total waste of time; one of the many reasons she rarely did. It was so much easier to throw it up in a ponytail or messy bun.

  “You girls decent?” Cole called from the doorway. “Damn, I was hoping to walk into a pillow fight or something. Hey stranger.” Cole pulled his cousin into a strong hug and then whistled, checking her out. “Hot damn. If I had a nickel for every time I saw someone as pretty as you I’d have five cents.” His gaze slowly lifted and checked out Emma over Paige’s shoulder. He let out another long whistle. “Is your name Summer? ’Cause you’re hot as hell. Very nice, poptart.”

  Emma rolled her eyes.

  “All right, let’s get going, ladies. Car keys?” he asked Emma.

  “Is, um, Mason coming?”

  “Yeah, he’ll meet us there. He’s got a conference call and didn’t want to hold us up. I think he’s gonna bail on us, but we’ll see.” Cole took the keys and opened the door for Paige and Emma.

  Riding in a car with Cole was always an adventure. Between his quick-witted humor and his terrible singing, you never knew if the drive would go by quickly or feel like a trek across the continent. Thankfully they arrived in twenty minutes.