Lori Foster - Tucker

Eyes widening, the deputy looked at the sheriff.

Tucker’s jaw clenched before he visibly relaxed and nodded. “Thanks, Moody.”

With that polite dismissal plain, Kady watched the deputy retreat with alacrity. Pleased that she’d gotten her way, she hooked her arm through Tucker’s on his uninjured side and smiled up at him. “You must be hungry and tired. And your shoulder has to be hurting.” She led him through the door. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”

When he smiled down at her, a really serene, sort of knowing smile, she started to worry.

Kady frowned. “What?”

Now he was leading her. “You can drive me home, but you’re not feeding me.”

“Don’t be silly. I don’t mind—”

“Obviously not, since you went to all the trouble to set this up.” He glanced at her. “But Gabe will.”

When her feet froze, Tucker urged her onward.

“Dad doesn’t know about any of this.”

“He will.” Automatic doors slid open as they reached them, and they stepped out into the damp, dark night. Tucker inhaled a deep breath, glanced around the lot and finally spotted the van. As he headed in that direction, almost dragging her along now, he said, “Just as soon as I call him.”

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