All Wound Up - Page 3/86

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.”