that. Now, more than a year later, he’d returned from the dead to learn another man had stepped up to the plate.
So she’d gotten engaged to his best friend. She had a child to think about now. At least Sean had been willing to provide for and, more important, love another man’s baby.
She opened her mouth to say exactly that, but Tucker beat her to it.
“We need to talk,” he said, his low voice simmering with anger and pain.
At the harsh tone, Eli whimpered and turned his face searchingly in her general direction before letting out a lusty cry, then another.
“He’s hungry,” she said, as her feeding-time breast-tingling intensified, making her pray she didn’t leak. “I’d better nurse him.”
Sean transferred the baby effortlessly to her. When she finished getting him settled, she turned her back to the two men and unfastened her blouse and nursing bra. As soon as Eli latched on to her nipple, she grabbed a baby blanket from the crib and covered herself and Eli. She turned back to face the two men, only to find Tucker watching, his expression shuttered.
Once again, she ached to go to him, pull him into an embrace like she used to, as she’d dreamed of doing for so many agonizing, painful nights after learning of his death—but she couldn’t. She belonged to another man now. She’d given her word.
As if he sensed her inner turmoil, Sean came up behind her. He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her and Eli close. Staking his claim. Tucker watched with narrowed eyes, but made no protest. Had she really expected him to? He had no right.
In the past year, she’d welcomed Sean’s comfort too many times to count. Hell, she’d needed it. There’d been days when she honestly thought she couldn’t go on. Sean had always been there for her. He’d been a good friend, though she’d known he wanted to be more. He’d persisted and finally, after the one-year anniversary of Tucker’s death had passed, she’d given in.
If she couldn’t have Tucker, Sean made a solid choice. Like her, he valued hearth, home and family.
Looking up to find both men watching her, she sighed. For an instant, she compared them. One tall and lean and dark, the other compact, with dirty-blond hair.
She should be happy. Scratch that, she should be ecstatic. Tucker was here, he was alive and she wished she could celebrate his return without a single reservation. Only she couldn’t. She glanced at Sean, saw only love warming his gaze, and kept herself still. She’d be fine. They’d all be fine.
She told herself she was not torn. True, everything had changed. Everything. Tucker was alive, and they had a child together. Of course, that would mean some sort of a relationship had to continue between them, for Eli’s sake. Nothing more. Tucker had to understand that. She’d accepted Sean’s proposal. He was a good man and she didn’t want to hurt him.
Eyeing the man she’d once thought she loved more than life itself, she relaxed into another man’s embrace and tried to reconcile her conflicted emotions. She’d loved Tucker once, but now she loved Sean, too. Her love for him might be less fiery, less passionate, but as a mother she trusted that the slow, steady warmth would endure for years, rather than flaming out of control in an unguarded moment.
Her choice had been solid, and not made impulsively. Sean would make a good husband, a fantastic father for Eli, who already appeared to love him.
Eli finished nursing and fell back asleep. Moving him to her shoulder, she refastened her bra and shirt before removing the blanket. Gently patting his back, she burped him. When she finished, she moved away, toward the crib.
“I’ll be right back,” she said softly. “Don’t talk about anything important without me.” She was only half kidding.
Moving swiftly, she placed Eli back in his crib and got him settled before she turned to face the two men waiting, still standing silently. The atmosphere felt charged with tension. Uncomfortable.
“He should sleep a little longer,” she said, trying to start a conversation.
Still, neither man spoke. She looked from Sean to Tucker and back again, feeling as though she was watching a tennis match.
“It’s good to have you home,” she said to Tucker. He dipped his chin in acknowledgment, but still didn’t respond.
“So,” Sean said, finally breaking the awkward silence. “About that explanation?”
Expression grim, Tucker headed for the den, then perched on the arm of the sofa. “I don’t know where to begin.”
Sean leaned forward, looking from Lucy to Tucker. “If you’re willing to talk, we’d love to hear what you have to say.”
We’d. Lucy caught the possessive pronoun, aware Tucker probably did, too. Again, the not-so-subtle staking of the claim. Or maybe she was just being hypersensitive.
“I’ve already told Lucy.” Running a hand through his dark, unruly hair, Tucker turned away. When he glanced back over his shoulder, the vivid blue of his gaze sent a shiver through her.
Expression surprised, Sean glanced from one to the other. “I guess she can fill me in later. Still, maybe you can give me the short version. Starting with the plane crash. All we were told was that there’d been a crash and all on board were killed. They found your wallet and your cell phone amid the wreckage. Everything else, including any bodies, was burned beyond recognition.”
“There was no plane crash. Or, let me put it another way. The plane Carlos and I were on landed safely.” Using much less detail than he’d given Lucy, Tucker filled Sean in on his capture and subsequent imprisonment.
Listening as he told the story again, Lucy closed her eyes.
“All right.” Sean accepted Tucker’s tale without hesitation. “But after the DEA got you out, they must have told you why. Someone had to know why the cartel held you prisoner for so long.”
Tucker gave him a long look. “Because they thought I took their money.”
This was new. Lucy opened her eyes to see a look pass between the two men. Not good, though Lucy couldn’t put a name to it.
“And now you’re home.” Sean finished the story.
“And now I’m home. Are you disappointed?” Tucker asked smoothly.
Sean laughed, as though he thought Tucker was kidding. “Right. Disappointed? Hell, this is freaking amazing. You could write a book and make a ton of money.”
Lucy noticed Sean didn’t answer the question. Tucker probably caught it, too.
“The plane crash was a setup,” Tucker said finally. He sounded certain. “And no one has been able to explain to me why someone found it necessary to make everyone believe I was dead. It all goes back to this missing money.”
“Seriously?” Sean leaned forward again, curiously expectant. “How much money are you talking about?”
Though Tucker spared him a glance, he continued to focus on Lucy. “Ten million dollars.”
Sean whistled, clearly stunned.
Shocked
