All Wound Up, Page 2

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He zipped up. “I hope your husband or boyfriend doesn’t mind you inspecting my stuff down here in the wine cellar.”

  “No husband. No boyfriend. I’m a resident at Washington University here in St. Louis, and way too busy for that.”

  “I see. So who are you here with?”

  “Oh, my father is Clyde Ross. I’m Aubry.”

  Shit. Shit, shit, shit. The boss’s daughter. This night couldn’t get any worse.

  “I didn’t know that. I mean, I knew he had a daughter in medical school or something. I don’t know why I didn’t make the connection.”

  “No reason for you to. Nice to meet you, Tucker. I’ve seen you pitch. You’re pretty damn good.”

  “So are you, Doc. Thanks for the once-over.”

  “You’re welcome. I actually came down here to grab a bottle of wine for my dad.” She obviously knew what she wanted, because she made a direct beeline for a spot on the far wall and plucked a bottle from the rack before turning to face him. “Got it. Shall we go upstairs, or do you need more time to reflect on your evening?”

  “No, I think I’ve spent enough time . . . reflecting down here.”

  He led her toward the stairs, hoping like hell Aubry was discreet enough not to tell her father what had happened to him.

  Still, he stopped and turned to face her. “One question.”

  “Sure.”

  “Did you make me drop trou because it was medically necessary, or because you wanted to get a good look at my dick?”

  One side of her mouth curved up in a sexy-as-hell smile. “Tucker. I’m surprised you’d ask that question. I am a doctor, after all.”

  She turned and headed up the stairs.

  Which wasn’t an answer at all.

  The night was starting to look up.

  But his balls still hurt like hell. After the debacle with Laura, and given the fact that the doc was Clyde’s daughter, he should definitely avoid Aubry Ross.

  Or . . . maybe not.

  AFTER GRABBING A COLD BEER AND MAKING MINIMAL rounds at the party, Tucker determined that Laura was, in fact, gone.

  He should have been ashamed to feel relief about that, but he wasn’t. Not after the episode in the wine cellar. As far as he was concerned, they were over. More than over. If he was lucky, he’d never hear from her again.

  Now he needed to find somewhere out of the way to sit so he could nestle the beer in his crotch like an ice pack. It was too early to leave without a good explanation, and he sure as hell didn’t want to call attention to himself. Laura had done enough of that by getting drunk as hell within the first hour. He hoped he could lie low for a bit, then leave without anyone noticing.

  He found a perfect spot outside in Clyde and Helen Ross’s backyard. Clyde’s property was expansive, and since the team party included family and friends, there was enough of a crowd that Tucker could disappear for a while without anyone noticing. He intended to get lost in one of the many winding garden areas¸ and he finally found a gazebo that was fortunately deserted. He laid his head back in one of the very comfortable cushioned chairs, nestling his beer between his thighs.

  Hell of a night. He could enjoy this solitude for—

  “I would have been happy to get you an ice pack for your testicles.”

  That could only be one person. He peeked one eye open. “My balls are fine, Aubry. This is just where I rest my beer.”

  “Between your legs, which is one of the warmest areas on your body? What man in his right mind wants warm beer?”

  He sighed, opened both eyes and set his beer on the table next to the chair. “Are you following me?”

  She laughed, then stepped inside the gazebo. “No. I was on my way to the guesthouse to check on . . . something.”

  He cocked a brow. “Something? Or someone?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe both.”

  She gave a quick glance to the house in the distance.

  “Searching for your boyfriend?” he asked.

  She quirked a smile. “Uh, no. My uncle. He has a tendency to wander off with inappropriate people. People who aren’t my aunt.”

  “Oh.”

  “My mom asked me to check and see if he was in the guesthouse.”

  He stood, trying not to wince as he did. “I’ll go with you.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Still, I’ll go with you.”

  She looked him over. “Are you sure you can walk that far, given your . . . condition?”

  “Funny. Let’s go.”

  He stepped off the gazebo and walked next to her as she made her way around the gardens and toward the house.

  “So your uncle? Related to your mom or your dad?”

  “He’s my mom’s brother.”

  “Do you like him?”

  She shrugged. “I tolerate him because he’s married to my aunt, whom I love, and he’s the father of my cousins, whom I also love. My uncle has an unfortunate wandering eye, according to my mother.”

  “And does your aunt know about this?”

  “Apparently she does, and she looks the other way because they’ve been married a long time and have three kids—my cousins. My aunt, according to my mother, is . . .”

  He waited, but she didn’t finish, so he glanced over at her. “Comfortable?”

  Aubry shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “And what do you think?”

  “I think it’s none of my business.”

  He stopped. “Surely you have an opinion.”

  “I don’t want to get involved in their marriage. And if it works for both of them, then why should I get in the middle of it?”

  He looked over at the guesthouse. “Isn’t that what you’re doing right now?”

  “No. I’m doing a favor for my mother, who doesn’t want Aunt Farrah to be publicly embarrassed if someone else wanders into the guesthouse and finds Uncle Davis in flagrante delicto with some bimbo.”

  He wanted to cringe at her use of the word “bimbo.” He didn’t know the relationship dynamics between Aubry’s aunt and uncle, but apparently they weren’t good.

  She stopped at the entrance to the house. “Lights are off.”

  “Which means nothing.”

  She sighed. “True.”

  She dug the keys out of the pocket of her dress, stared at the house and hesitated. Not that he blamed her. If it were his family member, he wasn’t sure he’d want to know, either.

  “Would he be able to get in there without keys?” he asked.

  “He knows where the spare set is kept. He’s stayed in the guesthouse before when he and my aunt have had . . . tiffs.”

  “I see. Would you like me to go in there?”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “You know, that way if your uncle—”

  “Davis.”

  “Right. If your Uncle Davis is in there, then you don’t have to see anything, and he won’t know you were the one to find him.”

  “You make valid points.” She handed him the keys.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  As Tucker headed off, Aubry inhaled a deep breath, then let it out slowly, hoping Tucker wouldn’t find anyone at all inside the guesthouse, let alone Uncle Davis, who shouldn’t be with anyone but Aunt Farrah.

  She did not understand relationships. Or marriage. Her mother tried to explain the nuances of Uncle Davis and Aunt Farrah’s, but she’d always held up her hands and told her she didn’t want to know. It wasn’t her business. She loved her aunt and stood by her decision to stay with Uncle Davis, but this cat-and-mouse game the two of them played was ridiculous.

  You either loved someone or you didn’t. You were either committed to them or you weren’t. And if you didn’t want to be with that person anymore, then why not get out of the relationship, before someone got hurt?

  She’d seen her Aunt Farrah watch her uncle tonight, had seen the way her uncle flirted with some young wo
man. She’d seen the pain in her aunt’s eyes before she’d masked it with a laugh and a flip of her gorgeous hair.

  Aunt Farrah might tell her mom that everything was fine, but clearly it wasn’t.

  Her Uncle Davis confused her. He’d always been nice to her, and he absolutely adored his children. And when he was side by side with Aunt Farrah? The adoration he showed her was so loving.

  But sometimes men were douchebags. Why was it so hard to be faithful? Her aunt, who’d just turned fifty, was still stunning, had an amazing figure, was an incredibly successful businesswoman and had raised three amazing children. And if Davis couldn’t see and appreciate that, then—

  Tucker came back outside, shut and locked the door.

  She hadn’t heard any voices, no yelling or embarrassed female screams, and the lights hadn’t come on.

  A hopeful sign.

  He dropped the keys in her hand. “No one was inside. I even checked the closets. Nice guesthouse.”

  “Thanks. And thank you for looking around.”

  “Not a problem.”

  She stood there for a minute, gathering her bearings.

  “Are you ready to go back to the house?”

  “I suppose.”

  He studied her, and she, in turn, studied him. She’d been in full doctor mode earlier, so she hadn’t taken the time to fully appreciate Tucker’s good looks. He was tall and lean, with thick, dark hair and amazing green eyes. The dark glasses he wore only added to his appeal. He wore a blue button-down shirt, untucked, and dark jeans.

  And she’d already seen the package, which had been quite impressive. Though she’d only admit that to herself.

  Not that she had any intention of seeing it again. After finding out about Uncle Davis, she’d decided all men were pigs.

  Even men with impressive packages.

  Besides, she had no time in her life for men. Residency was overwhelming. She was lucky she had a night off tonight to spend with her parents. Too bad it had to coincide with a team party to celebrate the start of the Rivers season, which meant her parents’ house was filled with men.

  When they made it back to the house, she stopped and turned to Tucker. “Well, thanks again.”

  “Thank you. You know, for helping me out earlier.”

  Her lips curved. “You’re welcome. Take care of your testicles.”

  He laughed. “I think you might be the first woman who’s ever said good-bye to me by telling me to look out for my balls.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “They are important. And delicate. Try not to piss off any more women.”

  “I’ll try. Thanks again, Aubry.”

  “You’re welcome, Tucker.”

  He opened the back door for her and she went inside, the loudness of the party reminiscent of the emergency room at the hospital.

  Tucker disappeared into the throng, and, after taking a moment to admire his very fine ass, she dropped the keys on the hook inside the door, then grabbed a glass of wine from the island in the kitchen.

  She’d been hoping to steal some quiet time, visit with her parents and catch up. Since medical school, she hadn’t seen them often enough.

  But she wasn’t going to get to see them much tonight, either. She went in search of her mother, found her with her usual group of friends, Aunt Farrah among them. Her mom spotted her, excused herself, and grasped Aubry around the arm.

  “Anything?”

  She shook her head. “The guesthouse was dark and closed up. No sign of Uncle Davis or anyone there.”

  “That’s good, I guess. Though I haven’t seen him anywhere.”

  “Maybe he’s in the den reading a book or watching TV.”

  Her mother slanted her a look. “And miss a party? Davis never misses a good party. Besides, I already checked the den, and the pool house. He’s not there. I didn’t check the wine cellar, though.”

  “I was down there earlier. He’s not there.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll take another look around, Mom. And stop worrying. I’m sure everything’s okay.”

  Her mom patted her arm. “You’re probably right. Thanks for checking out the guesthouse, Bree.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “I’m going to stop worrying about Davis. Let’s go have some fun.” Instead of rejoining her friends, her mother led them over to the padded window seat, where it was just the two of them. She motioned to a crowd of guys, one of which was Tucker. “Why don’t you go chat up some of the very available single men here?”

  Aubry laughed. “Mom. Seriously. You know I’m not dating anyone. Or looking to date anyone.”

  Her mother graced her with a benevolent smile. “I know. That’s why I want you to go talk to some of the single men here.”

  She linked her arm with her mother’s. “How about I hang out with you instead?”

  Her mother sighed. “At this rate, I’ll never have grandchildren.”

  Aubry laughed. “I’m only twenty-eight, Mom, and still in my residency. That’s a lot of stress. I don’t have time for men.”

  “Oh, honey. There’s always time for men. Besides, great sex is good for stress.”

  “Not having the sex conversation with you again, Mom.” She loved her mother, but sometimes the things that fell out of her mouth were appalling. And so embarrassing.

  Maybe some daughters didn’t mind being frank with their mothers about relationships and sex. Aubry was not that daughter. She preferred to keep their discussions light and easy and about topics like television and fashion.

  Not sex.

  “I don’t know why not,” her mother said. “You’re a doctor for heaven’s sake, Aubry. You’ve talked about the most disgusting medical anomalies during dinner. Yet we can’t be open about your sex life?”

  “There’s a big difference between my talking about what I do at work and what I do . . .”

  Her mother graced her with a knowing smile. “At play?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Something like that. Which I don’t, by the way.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Play.”

  “And that’s your problem. You’re not having enough sex, which is why you’re so tense all the time.”

  Since when did her mother think she was tense? Which she wasn’t at all. “I’m not tense. I’m busy.”

  Her mother arched a brow. “There’s a difference?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t think so. Anyway, look at those men over there. I know Gavin Riley is married, and so is Dedrick Coleman. Garrett Scott is engaged. I think Jack Sanchez is single, though he has a very cute date with him tonight. But how about that hot one with the glasses? He is so attractive. Tucker Cassidy, isn’t it?”

  Of all the men her mother pointed out, it had to be Tucker Cassidy. “Yes, he’s very nice looking.”

  “I know he’s single. He’s only been with the Rivers for about a year, but oh, Aubry, he’s looking your way. And smiling. You should go over and talk to him.”

  It was like the sixth grade dance all over again, when her mother chaperoned. Aubry wasn’t the least bit interested in the boys back then. Not because she didn’t like boys. She did. But she was way more interested in her math teacher, Mr. Griffin, who of course had been way too old for her—and married.

  But she’d been twelve and more interested in math—and Mr. Griffin—than twelve-year-old boys who smelled bad and thought making fart jokes was hilarious.

  Her mother hadn’t understood then any more than she’d understand now. She should tell her mom now about her infatuation with Mr. Griffin. Wouldn’t she be horrified? The thought of it amused her. Then again, probably not a good idea. Right now she had to dissuade her mother from trying to fix her up with any baseball players. And especially with Tucker Cassidy.

  “No, Mom.”

  “Would you like me to introduce you to Tucker Cassidy?”

  “Uh, no. We’ve already met.”

  Her mother shifted sideways. “Really. When
and how?”

  Now, that she wouldn’t explain. “I ran into him earlier tonight.”

  “Is he nice?”

  “Yes. He’s very nice.”

  “Good.” Her mother stood, grabbed her hand and lifted Aubry out of the seat. “Let’s go talk to him.”

  Aubry tugged at her hand. “Let’s not.”

  But it was too late, and the one thing she’d known all her life was that Helen Ross had a very strong grip.

  God, this night couldn’t get any more complicated.

  TUCKER HAD SEEN AUBRY TALKING TO HER MOTHER. He saw her mother stand and take Aubry by the hand, and then the horrified look on Aubry’s face as they made their way over to him.

  “Tucker Cassidy,” Mrs. Ross said.

  “Mrs. Ross. How are you doing this evening?”

  “I’m doing fine. My daughter here tells me the two of you met earlier.”

  Uh-oh. Surely she wouldn’t . . .

  He shot a quick look over at Aubry, who shook her head back and forth very fast.

  “We did.”

  “Before you dragged me over here, Mom, I was going to tell you I met Tucker outside by the gardens.”

  “That’s right,” Tucker said. “Your property is beautiful, by the way.”

  Mrs. Ross smiled. “Thank you so much. We’ve done extensive work to the place over the years. And I do love my flowers.”

  “It shows. I’m a big fan of the outdoors, so I had to take a walk out there. That’s where I ran into Aubry—near the gazebo.”

  Aubry’s mom turned to her. “Of course. Well, I’m so glad you two met. I’ll leave you to talk, because I see someone I should say hello to. Nice to see you again, Tucker.”

  He nodded. “Mrs. Ross.”

  After she left, Aubry laid her hand on his arm. “I am so sorry about that. My mother is in matchmaking mode tonight.”

  Tucker’s lips curved. “And she thought you and I—”

  Aubry shrugged. “Apparently. Again, I’m really sorry. I saw that look of panic on your face and you can rest assured the incident in the wine cellar will stay between us.”

  “Thanks for that. But really, quit apologizing. It’s not like you’re hideous, Aubry. Any guy would be happy to be fixed up with you.”