Chapter Four
With a sinking feeling, Tucker glanced at the marriage license where it lay on the dash of the car. This had seemed like such a good idea when he’d thought of it. It would keep the ranch in the family without having to result to contesting the will…theoretically. Micah had said that his dad and AJ weren’t seeing anyone, and Tucker wasn’t about to marry just anyone, so this appeared to be the perfect solution. Hell, who was he kidding? Not a lot of thought went into the decision, which was a rare thing. He didn’t usually just react without weighing the consequences.
As Tucker exited the highway, he stole a glance at Micah, who was sitting in the passenger seat. Tucker could practically feel that Latino temper about to flare to life again.
Micah hadn’t said two words since yesterday, not since they spoke their wedding vows. Even then, the words were forced out through gritted teeth with a glare that would have scared a lesser man. Oh well, Micah belonged to Tucker for now, like it or not. He’d known Micah would agree, even if he were less than pleased, if it kept them from contesting the will and going against Ferguson’s wishes. At this point, Tucker didn’t really care what the little shit wanted. Micah had been working himself to death and this was the one sure way to make him stop. No matter if Tucker had to fight him tooth and nail. He couldn’t live with himself if he let things go on this way. “How do you feel?”
“Fine.”
Tucker repressed the urge to grind his teeth together and shake the shit out of Micah. One thing was for certain, Micah’s attitude kept Tucker at arm’s length. Tucker was grateful but also sad. Had Micah always been this disagreeable? No, Tucker knew he hadn’t. Once upon a time Micah was all smiles and hung on Tucker’s every word. He missed it. Okay, maybe the adoring agreement was a bit much—Tucker kind of liked the new independent streak—but Tucker wanted to see that smile again.
No.
No, he didn’t. This surly Micah was much easier on Tucker’s conscience. He could concentrate on fixing things for his family and getting the hell outta Dodge. “No pain?”
“No.” Micah continued to lean back in the seat with his eyes closed.
“Tell me about your ideas for the ranch.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Goddamn it, Micah.”
They used to get along so well they didn’t need to talk to communicate with one another. Tucker had never experienced that with anyone else, including AJ. “It does matter. I didn’t marry you so I can just throw away money on the ranch. I want it profitable again. I want to make sure you, Dad, AJ and Juan have a home and an income. Y’all need to be happy with it, so I need your input.”
“What? What does that mean? You’re just gonna get things back on track for us and split? Yep, that sounds about right. You’re abandoning us again.” Micah sounded amused, which grated on Tucker’s nerves even more.
“Micah…” Tucker groaned. “I’m not abandoning y’all. I never
abandoned
y’all.” He’d had to leave. Couldn’t Micah see Tucker had given him a chance to grow up and become his own man? “I have a life and career in Dallas. I can’t just move back out to the ranch and pretend otherwise.” He’d never be able to keep his hands off Micah if he did. Nothing had changed. Even if Micah would forgive him—which wasn’t likely given the hostility he’d shown the last few days—he was still better off without Tucker. “I did things this way to make sure that the ranch stays with who it should. It’s not as if I could just ask my granddad to change his will. You said yourself it’s only a matter of time until—” Tucker’s throat grew tight, making him have to swallow. Jesus, he just wanted to turn around, go back home and forget everything. “Until we lose him. This way we have things secured. The ranch will be put in my name. I’ll pay the inheritance tax on it and lend the ranch money to get it going again. So humor me, what is it y’all think will make the ranch solvent? I expect to make a profit too, but I’m not going to be here to run things, y’all are.”
“Give me a break. We both know why you ran off. But don’t worry, I promise not to make a scene. I’m not the same idiot teenager.” Micah sighed and looked at Tucker. “Your granddad wants to see you, but you don’t have to stay. I don’t need you here to spend your money. I can make the decisions and run them by Jeff and AJ.”
Ah, Tucker was starting to see the problem. Micah was used to being the go-to guy. He’d gotten accustomed to running the ranch, and why not? Dad and AJ hated anything to do with the business side of things, they were more than happy to stay outside with the livestock. “You think I’m just going to come in and take over.”
“Aren’t you? That’s what you always do. Hell, you wouldn’t even let me drive my own damn truck home. That sure seems like taking over to me.”
A growl escaped before Tucker could hold it back. “We’ve been over that. You need the rest. I’ll take you back to get your truck in a few days. Now will you quit being such a pain in the ass and tell me what ideas you have?” He tried to focus on the passing scenery, but it was no use, he was too aware of the sulky, pissed-off man next to him. His hands flexed on the steering wheel, white-knuckling for a second.
Micah was quiet for several moments. He faced forward again and closed his eyes. “We need to increase our herd size, and AJ and I talked about adding a breeding program. So instead of just the feeding and growing outfit, we can sell breeding stock. We have some excellent bulls, but we’d need more.” Apparently, he’d given it some thought. Developing a breeding herd would take a lot of capital, but it had the potential to make more too.
Tucker nearly sighed in relief. Micah was going to cooperate, at least for a little bit. “What kind of herd?”
“Commercial. We wanna mess with cross-breeding.”
The Bar D had always run longhorns. “What other breeds?”
Without turning his head, Micah shrugged and yawned. “Don’t know yet. We’ve been too busy to even discuss it.”
Tucker frowned. He’d noticed how tired Micah was, but no time to discuss the ranch’s future? From what Tucker could tell, Micah did nothing but worry about the ranch. Not many twenty-two-year-old men ended up with ulcers. The doctor seemed to think it had a lot to do with Micah’s anti-inflammatory use. Which made Tucker suspect Micah was working too hard. Sure, ranch work was tough, but the kid needed someone to take care of him. Tucker was going to have to jump his dad’s and AJ’s asses when he got home. They should be taking care of Micah better.
Slowing the truck, Tucker made a left-hand turn. “We’ll discuss it tonight then. We’re here.”
As gravel crunched under the truck tires, Micah opened his eyes and sat up. A slow, barely perceptible grin flitted across his face.
Tucker grinned too, then cut his gaze back to the front. He drove through the open gate of rough-cut lumber with a long piece going over the top that read The Bar D, and swallowed hard. He tried to tamp down the case of nerves that suddenly appeared. He’d ridden through this gate hundreds of times. What was so different now? Why did it feel like his whole life was about to be turned upside down and inside out? Getting things settled and going back to Dallas was a must. He was losing his mind.
“What if your idiotic plan doesn’t work? We’re both guys, and Texans aren’t too keen on that. Hell, California can’t even get their shit together enough to do what’s legally and morally right in regards to gay marriage.”
Tucker let the insult slide. “It will work. I talked to the lawyer. The way the will was written, the marriage doesn’t have to be legal in Texas, just somewhere. It’s legal in a few U.S. states and Canada, so we’re good.”
“I thought your lawyer hadn’t read it yet.” Frowning, Micah turned in his seat.
“She just looked over the marriage part and said even a civil union or gay marriage would fulfill the conditions. When she finds anything else, I’ll let you know.”
“And what about ranch decisions?”
“Yes, I promise I will keep you in the loop and run all ranch decisions by you.” It wasn’t a big lie. Tucker would keep Micah in the loop as long as it wasn’t going to stress Micah out.
“Promise?”
“Yes.” Tucker kept his eyes forward, but sensed the ease of tension from Micah. If Tucker had known a promise to keep him informed would work, he’d have tried that earlier. Tucker’s lawyer had said she was fairly certain the will could be contested, but Tucker had decided to go this route first. Micah would not want them to contest the will because of what happened with his own family. If it hadn’t been for Juan… Tucker shivered. He didn’t even want to think about that.
There was also the concern that if Tucker fought the will it would draw attention toward it and maybe give Duncan ideas. Duncan might contest it anyway, but for now Tucker was going to try to get things taken care of through a marriage of convenience.
Yeah right. Who are you kidding? That isn’t the only reason you wanted to marry him.
He was a selfish bastard and wanted more control over Micah’s life. Tucker had no clue what to do with Micah once they went back to their daily lives, but Tucker was going to take care of Micah in the meantime. Tucker would let Micah go when the time came…maybe. No, he would, he had to. He knew damned well there was no such thing as a fairy-tale happily ever after. If he stayed, he’d be tempted to try to make their marriage real, and when it finally ended…he couldn’t do that to Micah.
“
¡Hijo de la chingada!
”
Tucker smiled at the Spanish swear. Micah had always cussed in Spanish. As a kid, he’d gotten away with it most of the time, unless Juan was within earshot. “What are you swearing about?”
“That.” Micah pointed to a silver Cadillac Escalade. The license plate read DUNCAN.
It was like someone had poured ice water down Tucker’s back. So help him if that son of a bitch was upsetting his dad…
Micah began muttering in Spanish. Tucker caught the words “
cabrón
” and “
pendejo
” and figured whatever Micah was saying wasn’t very nice. Tucker’s only regret was not knowing enough Spanish to join in.
“Fuck me.” Tucker pulled into the drive behind his dad’s beat-up old Chevy and put his car in park. “Why is that fucking lowlife
here
?”
“I told you Ferguson asked for him, but I didn’t really think he’d come.” Micah’s voice had a growly quality to it that made Tucker look at him more closely. It was sexy and violent at the same time. Or maybe it was sexy because it was so violent sounding. At any rate, it didn’t sound like Micah.
Tucker hadn’t thought Duncan would come either. He was even more puzzled over why his granddad would want to see Duncan. Dying apparently made a man try to make amends even when it wasn’t his fault. “Think he brought the bitch with him?” If his egg donor was here, Tucker was going to throw her ass off the property personally. Granddad sure as hell hadn’t asked to see
her
.
“I don’t know.” Micah reached for the door handle. “I gotta go check on Dad.”
Catching Micah’s arm before he opened the door, Tucker wondered if Micah even realized he’d called Tucker’s dad “Dad”. “Wait, killer. Your seat belt is still on.”
Micah moved to unlatch his belt, but Tucker didn’t let go of his arm. As badly as Tucker would love to see Duncan get his ass kicked, he wasn’t about to let Micah do it. In fact, Micah shouldn’t be getting this upset. It wasn’t good for him. He was supposed to be taking it easy.
Tucker frowned. “Micah, calm down.” He grabbed the marriage license off the dash and held it up, before putting it in the center console. “Remember this? It’s our ace in the hole. So stop worrying. Duncan can’t get into the computer, can he?”
“Only AJ and I know the password.” Unhooking his seat belt, Micah shook his head and turned his body toward Tucker. Micah took a deep breath and visibly tried to calm himself. “Not a chance in hell would AJ give that
pendejo
the password.”
“Good. Relax. We’ll let him visit with Granddad for a few hours and send him on his way.” Tucker’s gaze darted past Micah for a second, spotting AJ, his dad and Juan coming their way. One side of Tucker’s mouth hitched up and an odd feeling swamped him. It took him a second, but he finally realized what it was. It was contentment. God, it was good to be home.
He glanced back at Micah, noting once again the dark circles under his eyes. Tucker’s chest tightened. No way was he letting Duncan stay. Micah didn’t need the stress. “Come here, baby.”
Micah’s brows scrunched together and he glared at Tucker. “What did you call me?”
Tucker got an insane urge to kiss that glare away. He shouldn’t. It would only complicate things. Fuck that, he wanted and he was going to have. He leaned forward and touched Micah under the chin to urge him closer. As he slanted his mouth over Micah’s in an easy caress, he tried not to knock Micah’s glasses off.
A sound caught somewhere between a protest and a plea left Micah’s throat before he finally kissed Tucker back. Micah reached for his glasses with one hand and clenched and unclenched the other in the fabric of Tucker’s shirt.
Tucker wanted the kiss to last, yet at the same time he knew he shouldn’t. This could become an obsession. He couldn’t afford to get addicted to Micah’s kisses. Micah may be old enough now, but their worlds moved in different directions. It was already going to tear a piece of Tucker’s heart out when he had to leave The Bar D again and go back to Dallas. And something told him it was going to hurt a lot worse this time than it did the first. Damn Micah. Why did he have to be so tempting?