His uncle cursed softly.
Tucker had enough other people in his life who did care to make up for his parents, including the man now before him. “I’ve made my choices as well. I lean toward simple and honest manual labour. You taught me the value in that—you, Walter, and Joseph, before they passed on. You’ve done more for me over the years than my parents ever did. Let me be there for you now. I’d love to work for Silver Stone, but I’d also love to make your life better going forward. So, thanks for the opportunity.”
Ashton dipped his chin, leaning forward and slapping a hand on the table. “Then it’s decided. Get your paperwork together so we can make it official, but as soon as you’re done with your work out east, we’ll get you started. I won’t say anything to anyone but Caleb. We’ll let the rest of the crew and family know once you’ve got a date.”
He held out his hand, and like in the old days, Tucker shook it firmly, looking the man in the eye. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t, son.” Ashton sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. “Now, get.”
Tucker chuckled. “Getting.”
He stepped outside into the snow and cold, mind spinning with the change of plans and the possibilities that lay ahead of him.
Son.
It was true. Walter, Joseph, and Ashton had all been more father-like than the man who’d sired him. Both his parents were cold, bitter people. The less impact they had on his life going forward, the better.
He was halfway to the trailer when he realized that after the initial comment about Tucker and Ginny, his uncle had never mentioned the woman again. He was three quarters of the way to the trailer when Tucker realized not once that day had he mentioned to anyone about the double booking of their quarters.
He was on the steps of the trailer and walking into the warmth before he acknowledged this was exactly where he wanted to be. Coming home to Silver Stone.
Coming home to Ginny.
The furnace was running, the air around him warm. He slipped off his boots and glanced around for a sign of the woman. “Ginny? You awake?”
“In here.”
He paced to the door of the bedroom and peered in.
She sat on the bed, pillows propped up behind her back. Pale pink pyjama pants covered her long legs, paired with a colour-coordinated tank top. She had fuzzy slippers on her feet and a blanket loosely draped around her shoulders.
Her gaze was fixed on the faded yellow envelope in her hands.
“What’s up?” he asked quietly, making his way closer so he could settle at the foot of the bed.
All concerns about their sleeping arrangements were ignored, because he’d rarely seen that expression. It was the lost and tired and scared expression that Tucker knew Ginny Stone hated to the core of her being. The one that said she didn’t have enough energy to deal with something.
The breath she took was so big it made every bit of her body rise slightly. “Tamara found a present. It’s been hidden away for years.” Ginny met his gaze, moisture in her eyes. “It’s from my mom.”
“Holy shit,” Tucker whispered even as he moved closer, sliding in beside her and slipping an arm around her shoulders. It was instinctual to offer comfort even as she continued to hold the envelope in the air.
Her hand shook and the paper trembled.
Ginny curled against his chest. “I have to admit it. I have never quite understood what the word discombobulated meant until now. Dis-com-bob-ulated. Sounds like uncomfortable fellatio.”
He snickered. “Ginny.”
“If I don’t joke, I’ll cry,” she admitted. “And I’m only partly kidding because, holy hell. I did not expect this on top of the rest of the day.”
He tugged the envelope from her fingers, amazement and wonder meshing as he spotted the still-familiar handwriting on the envelope. “Are you sitting here trying to brace up enough energy to open it?”
She waved a hand toward the side of the room. “The rest of it is over there. An entire box from the past, and no. I do not want to open it right now. I kind of want it to not be there. Not be in my brain, not be a possibility. Because I want to open it so badly, but I’m scared.”
Tucker cradled her closer, the warmth of her torso contrasting with the cold in her fingers and arms. “Dammit, Ginny. How long have you been sitting here?”
“Don’t know.”
Screw this. He adjusted position until she was damn near in his lap. He pulled the throw blanket over them both. “Did you call Dare?”
The two of them had been thick as thieves for years and years. If anyone could talk Ginny through this, it would be her sister.
Ginny rubbed her cheek on his chest. Slowly, almost like one of the kittens in the barn. “Thought about it. It’s Christmas day, Tucker. I already messed up Christmas for one of my siblings. I didn’t want to add to anyone else’s stress.”
“Who’d you mess up Christmas for?” he asked in surprise.
Ginny sighed again. An enormous sound as if she were a hot air balloon releasing all its steam. “I gave Caleb shit for not ever telling me that the ranch was in financial trouble.”
Utter shock slipped in. “You’re fucking kidding me.” She tightened in his arms, and he hurried to reassure her. “That wasn’t directed at you. You never knew things got tight? No one told you?”
“Nope.” She patted his chest. “You big strong types feel the need to protect delicate little creatures like me.” She tilted her head back. “It’s okay. He apologized, and it’s done, so no more indignation required on anybody’s part. I shouldn’t have even told you. I’m not telling anyone else. It’s over and forgotten. I mean it.”
She sat up and pressed a hand against his cheek.
“I won’t say a word,” Tucker promised without being prompted. “But I’m glad you told me. That’s an awful lot of emotional crap dumped on your plate all at once.”
While he understood far too intimately the need to protect Ginny, he still retained that image of her from that long-ago day. So stubbornly proud to be able to give to others. So insistent that she would be strong.
Discovering she’d been left out of family details would have been like sticking a fillet knife in her. Heck, he’d been pissed when his uncle hadn’t said anything until Tucker had browbeat him into spilling the beans about what bothered him so much.
Oh.
Oh.
The teasing comments from Luke about Ginny not having been there must have cut deep. That was the frustration he’d seen on her face earlier.
Now she turned those big emotion-filled eyes on him again, but it wasn’t frustration, and it wasn’t sadness. The depths sparkled with the mischievous sexual creature who had him tangled up so tight he didn’t have a chance to resist.
“What’s that look for?” he asked cautiously.
She wiggled until she straddled his thighs. Her perfect ass rested on him, the heat of her sex very close to where his cock rose behind his jeans. “We need to talk.”
Crap. His hands were on her hips, and his far too eager fingers had found their way under her pyjama top. Bare skin blazed hot against his palms as he slid them to her waist.
Involuntary, really. He wasn’t doing this on purpose.