Chapter 14
Ruth
This place is freaking gigantic. I saw pictures of McKinley Security Systems online when I was researching Tucker, but it’s even more impressive in person.
The building is modern and sleek. The design is gorgeous in a way that makes me eager to see the inside. It’s also sprawling. Big enough I can’t actually tell where it ends as we pull into the packed parking lot.
Tucker pulls up to a line of spots right in front of the two-story block of windows situated in what seems to be the center of the structure. He aligns his truck in a spot marked by a sign that says ‘reserved’, shuts off the engine, and climbs out.
I get myself unbuckled and the door open, only to discover he’s rounded the truck and is standing close, one hand out to help me down from the admittedly intimidating height.
Accepting his offer—falling on my ass right out of the gate this morning has absolutely zero appeal—I hold tight to the calloused warmth of his palm as I perform a sliding sort of descent from my seat.
The relieved breath that escapes when my feet are on the blacktop gets sucked right back in when I notice how close Tucker’s body is to mine.
“You good?” His voice is a low rumble as his free hand comes to my hip, holding tight like he’s mistaken my sharp intake of breath for unsteadiness.
I’m not sure how wrong he actually is. The more time I spend around Tucker, the more wobbly I feel.
The more I want to lean against him. Let him comfort me the way he keeps trying to.
But there’s only been one person I could rely on in my life, and she went and died on me.
Now I have to be the only person someone else has to rely on.
And holy shit is that a heavy burden.
“I’m good.” I look down and discover my hands accidentally found their way to Tucker’s biceps at some point. I pull them off his body, trying to look like I didn’t just have to fight the almost overwhelming urge to give them a little squeeze.
Just to see how solid they are. For science.
Tucker gives me a once over, his expression serious. “It’s going to be okay, Ruthless. Promise.”
I sure as heck hope so. Because if I can’t even handle his brothers and employees, there’s no way I’m going to manage his mother. “I guess we’ll find out.”
I expect him to step away so I can get Birdie, but Tucker lingers, his eyes moving over my face. “We’ve got to pretend today. That means I might have to touch you without asking.” His gaze drops to my mouth. “And kiss you from time to time.”
I can’t stop my tongue from darting out to wet a path across my lower lip. “That’s okay.” I swallow hard. “I’ll probably have to touch you too.”
Tucker’s lips pull into a slow grin. “You can touch me whenever you want.” He gives me a wink. “No audience necessary.”
I can’t help but smile as I roll my eyes over his flirting. At first I thought it was so ingrained in him he couldn’t help it, but I’m starting to think he does it on purpose. To distract me. To stop the nerves always ready to chew into my guts.
“You’re ridiculous.” I rub both palms down the jeans Tucker assured me were fine to wear today. Which was a relief since my work wardrobe is packed up in the apartment we’re supposed to visit on our way back to Tucker’s house tonight.
“Don’t worry.” Tucker mistakes my unease over having to visit my former home as more worry over meeting his family. “They’re going to love you.” He smirks. “And probably wonder why in the hell you’re with me.”
“I doubt that.” I’ve seen at least a few of the women who managed to catch his attention, and while I’m not unattractive by any means, I look nothing like those statuesque blondes.
A bite of something that will remain nameless adds to the gnawing in my gut. The thought of those women being the ones on the receiving end of his cocky smirks and annoying flirtations…
Nope. Don’t like that. Not at all.
I step away, sliding to the back door so I can get Birdie and her bag. Only to discover she’s well out of my reach.
Tucker’s hands are suddenly on my waist, the heat of his front warming my back as his breath ghosts against my ear. “Step up onto the running board, Ruthless. I’ll keep you steady.”
Considering he seems to be the thing making me decidedly unsteady, I’m not so sure how that’s going to work.
Miraculously, I manage to get a foot up on the little step thing I hadn’t noticed before, and heft myself up so I can get to work extricating my daughter. A much more difficult task with Tucker’s distractingly strong hands holding me tight.
Birdie gives me a toothy grin, little legs bouncing with excitement as I struggle to unbuckle the harness holding her in.
At least one of us is excited. I feel like I’m about to shit my pants. To be fair, she might also be ready to shit her pants. Time will tell.
I scoop her out, tucking her tight to my chest as I peer over one shoulder and try to figure out how in the hell to dismount.
“Hold on tight.”
It’s all the warning I get before Tucker is lifting me away from the truck and setting my feet onto the pavement. I’m so flustered, it takes me a second to remember I need the diaper bag from the floorboard.
“I forgot—”
Tucker turns away from the truck, the floral bag I was worried about looped over one shoulder as he closes the door and reaches one hand toward me. “You ready, Ruthless?”
I stare at his hand, hesitant to take it. Not because I don’t want to.
But because I do.
I don’t really have a choice in the matter though, so I pull in a deep breath and slide my hand into his, hating how grounded I feel when his fingers link with mine and hold tight.
Tucker leads me into the building housing the company he and his brothers own, greeting everyone we pass with an easy smile and a nod.
There’s a large circular desk set up in the center of the spacious glass entryway.
The area is bustling with people wearing badges clipped to their waistbands, security guards with walkie talkie things strapped to their shoulders, and…
Giant dudes in all black with weapons attached to nearly every part of their muscular bodies.
I can’t help but stare at them. With their stern expressions, broad shoulders, and intimidating auras, they’re sort of scary looking.
They’re also very, very hot.
I’m for sure not the only one thinking that, either. There’s a woman about my height with a cute bob watching the trio of men move through the lobby. Her eyes follow their movements, tracking their path with an interested gaze.
Right up until they stop to speak with an attractive man in an expensive suit. Then her eyes narrow and a snarl twists her lips. She shoots the suited man a glare before spinning to march away.
Fancy suit looks just as unhappy to see her, his scowl holding long after the woman has disappeared from view.
“There’s Trevor. Might as well get him out of the way.”
Tucker tugs me in the direction of the group of men in black. They walk away before we get close enough for me to get a better look at their faces, leaving the man in the suit standing alone, cell phone in hand.
“Morning.” Tucker greets him as we approach, and once they’re side-by-side, it’s easy to see the resemblance.
They’re the exact same height with similar builds.
They also have the same nose and lips. Except while Tucker’s are almost always smiling, his brother’s seem to be stuck in a perpetual frown.
One that only deepens when he lifts his eyes, their dark depths moving from Tucker to me before fixating on our joined hands. One of his well-maintained brows slowly angles. Like he’s questioning what the fuck is going on.
I get it. I’m starting to wonder the same thing.
Before he can ask anything, Tucker releases my hand, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Ruth, this is my brother, Trevor.” His grin is the kind I’ve started to recognize happens when he’s about to be ornery. “He’s an asshole.”
I already had my mouth open to greet Trevor, but it ends up just hanging there, gaping wide at Tucker’s name calling. I brace, expecting the already grumpy-looking man in front of me to start raging.
Instead, he starts laughing. “I’m not the one who just cussed in front of a toddler.”
Tucker’s face pales a little, like what he did is just now registering.
Trevor focuses all his attention on me and Birdie, all trace of his earlier sourness gone as he smiles wide at my daughter. “What’s your name, little bit?”
“Bernadette,” I answer, since my daughter’s vocabulary doesn’t yet include the name she shares with my mother. “But I call her Birdie.”
Trevor lifts his brows in an exaggerated way. “That’s a great name.” He bends at the waist, bringing himself closer to her level. “Did you come to apply for a job? I need a new assistant.”
“No freaking way.” Tucker shakes his head almost violently. “You’re not hiring either of them.”
“Hang on.” I have a job lined up across the country, but a woman in my position needs to have options. “How much does the position pay?”
“Not enough.” Tucker’s hold on my shoulders tightens as he turns us away from Trevor. “And don’t let him try to convince you otherwise.”
“Wait.” I turn to catch Trevor smirking as Tucker leads me away. “How much is not enough?”
“Trust me.” Tucker keeps moving, walking us through the lobby and into one of the halls branching off. “Whatever it is, it won’t be enough to put up with his shit.”
I’m forced to face forward when Tucker starts pointing out different areas of the building.
He shows me where I can find a breakroom stocked with beverages and snacks, along with a microwave, air fryer, and fridge.
There’s a lactation room for mothers who need to pump during their shift.
A quiet room for anyone who needs a little peace during their break.
I understand the need for that particular amenity when Tucker brings me into ‘his’ wing of the building. Where everything else up to this point has looked like a polished, professional office building, this area is more like a warehouse and a workshop had a baby.
A loud baby.
There are forklifts zooming across the central area, moving building materials from one place to the next. A row of delivery bays covered with plastic flaps line one wall, with trailers backed into half the openings, ready to be loaded with…
I’m not sure what, exactly. I can identify many of the parts I’m seeing—drywall, lumber for studs, spools of wire and sheets of metal—but I don’t see what they’re being used to create.
Probably should have looked into that a little more. But in my defense, I’ve had a lot going on.
“What exactly do you make here?”
I notice a few of the people working stop what they’re doing to stare our way, looking confused as hell by what they’re seeing. Which is concerning. If his employees are confused, I can only imagine how Tucker's family feels.
Except his brother Trevor didn’t seem shocked by seeing me and Birdie with Tucker. Granted, Tucker didn’t mention anything about our contrived connection, but we were holding hands.
Right up until Tucker put his arm around me.
“Safe rooms.”
Tucker leads me to a small office tucked into one corner of the cavernous space, opening the door and holding it wide as I enter.
I’m surprised at not only how quiet the space is once the door closes behind us, but also how nice it is.
The room sports warm, wood floors and walls painted a soft green that looks almost identical to the color of the bedroom where Birdie and I slept last night.
Crown molding trims the ceiling, and solid wood baseboards and built-in shelving make it feel more like a room in a home than an office stuck in the middle of a warehouse.
Tucker goes to one of the built-ins I assumed was a cabinet and pulls it open to reveal a fridge. “Anything cold can go in here.”
“This is your office?” I take in the recessed lighting and leather sofa and chairs creating a comfy looking seating area.
“I don’t spend a ton of time in here.” Tucker drops Birdie’s diaper bag onto the desk and unzips the main section to pull out the snacks I packed her, adding the chilled ones to the fridge. “So you girls will pretty much have it all to yourselves.”
He’s just giving us free rein of his gorgeous office? After seeing what my toddler is capable of?
The bubble fiasco hasn’t been the only mess she’s made in Tucker’s house.
Last night, an entire cup of milk ended up dumped on the floor when she figured out how to unscrew the lid of her sippy cup, and half her dinner went into every crevice within five feet of her highchair.
This morning, she managed to drop an entire roll of toilet paper into the bowl while I was attempting to shower, then she rubbed a streak of boogers down one of the sparkling clean windows in the great room.
Each and every time, Tucker just laughed it off. Like it was no big deal my daughter was desecrating his luxury home.
And now she’s going to do the same thing to his office.
“Okay. Great.” I try to sound grateful—I am—but I’m also looking around at all the opportunities for destruction.
Tucker crouches down, giving Birdie a boop on her nose and telling her to be good for me. Then he ducks out of the room, leaving us alone in yet another of his beautiful spaces.
But we don’t stay that way for long. Before Birdie can even ask for her first snack, the door swings open and a familiar face strides in.
Followed by a not-so-familiar one.
“Hey there.” The woman I saw glaring at Trevor earlier gives me a giant grin before landing her eyes on Birdie. “Hello, little lady.”
Birdie—who’s never met a stranger in her life—wobbles right over to the woman, holding both arms up.
The woman eyes me. “Is it okay if I pick her up?”
“Sure.” I look from her to the gorgeous, wavy-haired woman next to her, feeling way out of my element. “I’m Ruth.”
“Oh, we’ve heard.” The shorter woman holding my daughter leans close to Birdie, her voice a loud whisper as she says, “Word travels fast around these parts.”
“Tell me about it.” The other woman comes to me, holding out one hand. “I’m Brooke.” Her grip is firm but not tight as it clasps mine. “Rumor has it, my future brother-in-law is head over heels for you.”