The Christmas Challenge Read online

  “He spent it?” Tucker felt hope leak away. “Was it a lot?”

  Tanner closed her eyes and nodded.

  Tucker didn’t know what to say. She’d left her sister to deal with all of this while she rode and partied and dabbled in two impractical careers. “Tanner I’m so sorry.”

  Tanner had shouldered all of this stressful burden while Tucker had been messing around with a married man who’d offered her a part in a movie and then had backed out when some paparazzi posted photos of them kissing. The director’s wife, whom Tucker hadn’t known had existed, kicked up a fuss and hired a divorce attorney. He couldn’t dump Tucker fast enough.

  And since he was A list, and she was far below B list, no one would touch her at the moment.

  Tanner nodded. Tears leaked out of her closed eyes and she wiped them away, her gesture slow, almost helpless. “He’s sick, Tucker. He’s been drinking. I found the bottles hidden in his room and in the closet and in the gun box of his truck.”

  “Maybe they are old,” she whispered.

  “He’s a drunk.”

  “Alcoholic.” Although why she felt the need to reframe his disease she didn’t know.

  “And he’s been gambling and losing. I discovered that last month when I finally got access to all of our financials because nothing was adding up.”

  They didn’t speak after that.

  “So there’s nothing we can do?” Tucker asked, still not able to believe what was happening.

  Tanner worried her braid through her fingers, a gesture so familiar from childhood that Tucker nearly rushed her sister, wanting to hold her so tightly.

  “I’m going to talk to Samara Wilder, Luke’s mom. She’s been checking into the sale for us, but it’s not a person who bought the ranch. It’s a company, but even that is owned by another company or something, like a shell company.”

  “The town will hate that.”

  “Yeah.”

  There was not much more to be said. They both walked toward the sliding barn door and stepped outside, the cold seeping through to Tucker’s bones.

  “What does Luke say?”

  “He’s a fighter.” She smiled. “He has money saved. Kane’s done really well and could help, but…” She sighed. “I thought maybe we shouldn’t get married until it was all settled.”

  Even though Tucker had advised her waiting, that statement pissed her off. “Luke is lucky to have you, ranch or no ranch.”

  “A breeder with no bulls. Total prize.”

  “Tanner.”

  “The bulls and horses were part of the sale. The only bulls I have left are the ones that I bought with my own money because I created an LLC two years ago because I wanted to distinguish my breeding stock bucking bulls from the ranch’s.”

  “Smart,” Tucker said. Then, “When?”

  “New Year’s Day.”

  “So soon?”

  Tanner scuffed her boot in the dirt. “Do you care about the ranch, T?” she asked. “You couldn’t wait to leave. You hardly came back.”

  The question hung there. Did she care about the ranch? Too little too late, like most of her life.

  “It’s home,” she finally said.

  Not anymore.

  Blindly she reached out to hold Tanner’s hand, but Tanner had turned away and was already walking back to the house, Ryder trotting at her side. Still Tanner looked so alone in the dark, no light to guide her way.

  *

  Tucker wasn’t sure why, but she couldn’t sit still with all this information roiling inside of her and she wouldn’t be able to sleep, and she didn’t want to drink or hook up, so Grey’s Saloon was out. It seemed so natural to turn to Laird. She hurried up the stairs to the apartment and even though it was hers, she desperately tapped on the last door.

  It opened and every word she’d mentally prepared died unsaid. Her mouth dried and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her heart hammered but there was no oxygen to move around her body. She couldn’t breathe. Really couldn’t suck in even the tiniest bit of air.

  Shirtless, Laird Hunter was the most beautiful and spectacular man she’d ever laid eyes on, and she’d laid eyes and everything else on a lot of athletic and handsome men.

  “Hey,” he said like a normal human being. “What’s up?”

  She just stared at him speechless. He was slick with sweat, his torso gleamed, backlit from the light in the room. He was completely cut, defined pecs, obliques, abs, and muscles she didn’t even know the names of. His sweats hung low on his hips.

  But even more spectacular than that was the tattoo that scrolled across his right upper shoulder and partially down one of his pecs, and looked like it was written in words to a language she didn’t speak.

  “Tucker? You okay?”

  He was exquisite. “I went to Italy once,” she croaked out. “I saw the statue of David and stood there dumbstruck for three hours.”

  “I’ve seen it too. It is awe inspiring. The expression on his face. His eyes seem alive. I felt like I could see into his soul. His fear, his determination to try, his doubt, his hopes. Spectacular.”

  “Nothing,” she said. “Nothing compared to you.”

  He opened the door wider. “Exaggerate much? Come in. I’ll take a shower. And then we should probably talk.”

  Forget about talking!

  Oh. My. God. She wanted to lick him. She was salivating. She wanted to lick all of his sweat off and keep going. So not part of the celibacy challenge. This was so stupid. She’d gone dry for a month before. Many times. What was her deal now that she was jumping out of her skin to pounce on this man? How in the hell was he still single?

  And how was she supposed to stand in this room with him only a wall away naked and under sluicing water?

  “You don’t need to take a shower,” she burst out.

  He laughed. “Your olfactory system will thank me when I do.”

  “You’ve been working out?”

  Duh. Dumbest question ever.

  “Yeah. I brought some workout equipment with me in my Jeep. Helps me calm down enough to sleep, which is something we should talk about,” he said.

  Tucker barely heard him. She’d always been visual. And Laird was a whole hell of a lot of masculine, testosterone-laced visual. She would love to give him a workout that would make both of them sleep. No, not thinking of that. Definitely not. Instead she stared hard at the grey yoga mat on the floor where he’d been doing something because it was wet, and she’d better not be reduced to licking that when he took a shower. Don’t do it, she ordered her pervy self. Then she looked at a long metal rod, a roller thing with handles, a bar that he’d stretched between the double wide door that led to the bathroom, that had a pair of biker-looking boots with clamps on the bottom, a jump rope, and a half ball in a stand.

  S & M anyone?

  Tucker could barely breathe she was so aroused. She could feel her heart pound. Feel it like she was sprinting up a trail in Griffith Park in LA.

  “Sit down,” he said. “Want something to drink? I made some juice earlier with the veggies left over from the vegetable ragout we made. You didn’t eat much chili.”

  “I’m good.”

  Who could think of food at a time like this? She did sit though because she was afraid she’d glom onto him like some kind of monkey. She even tucked her hands under her thighs to remind herself: Hands off. She was not going to start anything. Not going to think of her desires and pleasures when she was here for Tanner, to try to repair the relationship she’d let drift and fester for over a decade.

  “I’m… I’m feeling out of sorts actually,” she said in a rush. “And I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go for a skate, but you’re probably exhausted after all that,” she waved her hand in the general direction of his workout station feeling like a voyeur. She’d been brushing her horse when all this was going on above her. Total missed opportunity.

  Her eyes kept straying to his chest. He had a long silver chain, with a silver ri
ng hanging from it. The band looked woven and was set with a blue green stone that didn’t look like any jewel she’d ever seen. Fused glass maybe?

  “That’s pretty,” she indicated the necklace although the entire package, the man, was far more beautiful and heart-stoppingly, masculinely gorgeous.

  She watched his tanned tapered fingers that held her so gently and cut and cooked food so skillfully play over the ring, caress the stone. She imagined those fingers on her body, and had to press her legs together tightly.

  “Was it your mother’s?” she asked feeling a little reckless, because she felt like she could feel his heat from across the room, and his sweatiness was turning her on something fierce. Tucker had always liked sex a little rough and intense and dirty and seeing Laird still breathing hard and glistening from his workout was sucking all her willpower.

  “Yes. But no.”

  That cryptic answer stirred her curiosity and distracted her enough to get her brain in first gear.

  “Don’t think I forgot you didn’t answer my question about not spending time with your mother who will miss you at Christmas. I want to respect your privacy. I do, but you make it hard somedays.”

  She walked across the room toward him feeling as if he were a solid magnet, pulling her in. “But you’ve been such a good friend to me, listening to all my crap, and I want to return the favor. I want to be a friend to you. Can’t you trust me even a little, Laird?”

  She reached him and her hand fell lightly on his pec. He was solid, and her breath hitched as she bit back the desire that seemed to well up from her chest threatening to choke her.

  He took her hand off his chest, and held it tightly.

  “No. Tucker. That’s the problem. I’m starting to trust you.”

  “You say that like it’s bad.”

  He released her, ran his hand through his hair then checked the huge watch that he always wore that looked like it could pilot a drone while running Wall Street trade calculations and making phone calls and figuring out his GPS location all at the same time. “Let me take a quick shower and get dressed.”

  Laird getting dressed was the worst suggestion ever.

  She heard the water running and squirmed in her chair. Don’t even think about getting up. She held on to the arms of the chair until her knuckles were white, wondered about strapping herself down with the jump rope. She wasn’t used to denying herself much, whether it was a man, champagne, or a new pair of boots. Usually it was: she saw, she wanted, she took.

  And Laird was an eyeful and a whole lot of want.

  She could feel her blood in her body. Feel the craving for him rattling the cage of her body wanting release. She breathed in deeply. That was supposed to help calm people down, right? Only the small room smelled like Laird. Like his normal smell overlaid by sweaty pheromone-laced Laird, and all of it swirled through her senses in a heady rush of promised pleasure.

  Denied.

  How the hell had she thought she could share the small apartment with him and keep it platonic? She hadn’t done platonic since she’d been fifteen. But Tanner had assumed she and Laird were sleeping together, and while she’d been about to say that they were just friends, which would have earned her a world-class eye roll, she’d then had a brainstorm. If Tanner thought she was sleeping with Laird, she’d stop stressing that Tucker was still lusting after Luke. Win win! Only Tucker didn’t feel like she was winning.

  She was horny and pissed at herself for even being tempted but seriously, the Fates had to dangle Laird in front of her. Sweetest eye candy ever and taunt her with a “resist this, cowgirl.” But resist him she would, she vowed even though any woman with a pulse would think that was the dumbest idea ever.

  I am superhuman.

  “Okay,” he said coming out of his room in jeans, and a Henley shirt that hid all the marvelous parts she’d been drooling and fantasizing over like she was sixteen again and in the throes of her first serious crush.

  He ran his hands through his longish hair. “You want to make some tea or coffee or cocoa or something before we head out?” he asked. “I brought supplies over from the main house.”

  He even looked delicious in the pants that hugged his strong thighs and narrow waist, and the way the shirt opened at his throat and skimmed his body showcased how toned he was. God he looked almost as sexy and edible with clothes than without.

  “What?” She realized he was staring at her and clearly waiting for something.

  “I asked if you were wearing panties.”

  “What?”

  Laird laughed. “Now you’re listening. Do you want to head out to skate or talk about the apartment first?”

  “Skate,” she said watching as he walked over to pick up his wallet and keys.

  “And—” She couldn’t help herself. “No to the other question.”

  Laird had been in the process of picking up his Jeep keys and she heard them crash onto the floor.

  At least she wasn’t suffering alone.

  Chapter Nine

  Only a few votives tonight as the moon was out bright. They held hands and skated fast for a while until Tucker could feel some of her tension unwinding.

  “Even if Miracle Lake doesn’t actually provide a miracle, it does bring me some peace,” Tucker said. And that had been in shorter supply than usual.

  Her dad was sicker than she thought. He’d gambled away the ranch’s security and when his daughter had tried to save the ranch, he’d unloaded it as if Tanner had been an employee, not family. She still couldn’t believe it. Why would he do such a thing? How could he do that to his daughters?

  “Me too,” Laird said quietly after a beat or two of silence when she thought again he wouldn’t talk about himself. “I arrived in Marietta feeling lost, at a crossroads, no going back only forward, and I think that even if I don’t get the answers I want, I won’t go away empty handed.”

  “What answers are you looking for?” she asked curiously. He’d hinted at troubles, but while she’d spilled her guts, Laird had been reserved. Private, whereas Tucker had always had a more “here I am” approach to life.

  “Who I am.”

  “That’s cryptic.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  Tucker waited for more, biting her urge to burst into speech for once.

  “My mother passed away recently,” he said, and Tucker’s fingers tightened around his in sympathy. “And I learned some things about myself, or actually learned some questions about myself, and I just needed some time to think about what they meant, and what I wanted to do about them. Marietta seemed a good place to start.”

  She felt like there was more that he wasn’t telling her, but it was his story. He hadn’t pushed her and she wanted to extend the same courtesy. It had been a long time since she’d had a friend, someone she was comfortable with.

  “Why Marietta, Laird?” She wanted to understand.

  “I’ve always been so restless my whole life. I always felt like I didn’t fit, like if I kept searching, I would find my place, my tribe. God, I sound like an existential idiot.”

  “No.” She got it. She too had been searching.

  She took his other hand and turned so that she was skating backwards, trusting him to steer them around the frozen part of the lake. It was so peaceful just the swish of the blades, the breeze in her ears, the call of an owl, sometimes the triumphant yipping of coyotes.

  “I spent so much time wanting to get out of Marietta, wanting something more, and now when I want to come home there’s no home to come home to,” she said, needing to get the thought out of her head. Make it real so she could start to process it.

  He digested that, and she liked how he didn’t immediately ask for more.

  “You and Tanner were alluding to a problem at the ranch when I first met her to hire me,” he said carefully.

  “My father sold it,” she said sadly. “I still can’t believe it. McTavish family has been in the valley since eighteen ninety nine. Starte
d with fifty acres and grew from there. Tanner is devastated. It’s her whole life. Her career. She’s been improving our bull stock bloodlines to get them to the IBR International Bull Riding Tour, which pays big money to stock providers, and now it’s all gone. Our home. Our history. Our legacy to any children we have.” Her heart lurched sideways. She’d always thought she didn’t want kids, but now that she was finally ready to come home and be where she belonged… What was she going to do now? She’d had some idea that she could make a life for herself in Marietta. Lay low. Train horses. Readjust to ranch life and make amends with her sister and start a new life. Tucker two point oh. Eventually people would not just define her through her high school days.

  “Your father sold it without consulting you?” Laird asked.

  “Yes. And not even to a ranching family. To some nameless corporation or something mysterious that Tanner doesn’t even know the name of.”

  “Your dad can’t back out of the deal, or doesn’t he want to?”

  “He spent the earnest money to pay off some loans and gambling debts. Tanner thinks he has an addiction that started since his accident. Pain meds. Alcohol. Gambling.”

  “Tucker, baby, that burns,” he said softly, finally slowing them down. “You’ve lost your home and feel like you’ve lost your dad.”

  Tucker released his hands, skated into his arms, and burst into tears.

  *

  Holding her was automatic. Kissing the top of her head, feeling her silky hair glide across his lips, catch in his scruff felt right in a way nothing had felt right in a long time. She felt good in his arms, soft where he was hard, curvy where he was so lean. Her scent enveloped him and he let his arms rub up and down her back soothingly.

  “Let’s go home,” he said softly to her, marveling at how natural the words sounded. He picked up the votive candles and blew each one out one by one.

  Tucker was quiet on the ride back. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest and stared out the window at the dark. He drove past the main house to the equestrian barn.