Found (Captive Heart #2) Read Free Page B

know. I’ve been working really hard, and it’s okay if I take a day or two. Jackie is going to call me if anything comes up.”
    Jackie, my best friend. I’ve never had one before, so when I started at the marketing firm I’ve been at for two years now, it was weirdly incredible that we clicked like long lost soulmates. She’s the graphic designer to my account manager position, and together, we kick butt for our clients.
    Professionally, I’ve never loved my life more.
    “She’s really excited to meet you by the way. I thought maybe Sunday she could come over, along with anyone else you might want to invite. We could do a low key brunch, have a few drinks …”
    Tucker picks at a hangnail. “Eh, there is no one I’d really want to invite. Plus, I don’t think I’m supposed to be drinking as part of my probation clauses, but I can check next week. I don’t mind if she comes over though.”
    He couldn’t sound less enthused.
    “Okay, well, we can play it by ear.”
    I go back to stirring the scrambled eggs, and pop the bacon in the pre-heated oven. Now it’s time for French toast. I crack an egg in one bowl and then mix sugar and cinnamon together in another.
    I cross the kitchen, looking for a hair-tie to pull back the mass of hair I’ve grown. I purposely haven’t cut it in over a year, knowing how much Tucker loves it. I roll up the sleeve of my white satin robe to try and avoid getting egg all over it.
    His voice catches me. “Is that?”
    He’s pointing to my wrist, the pulse point I’m now showing him as I tie up my hair and my arm’s been exposed due to my rolled up sleeve.
    I forgot he’s never really seen this. It was an impulse decision about a year ago, something Jackie thought I should do to get some closure and symbolize the thing I’d lost. We’d lost.
    Usually donning long sleeves when I visited, not wanting to draw attention, I realize that Tucker probably never even knew I got this.
    I turn my wrist over, holding it out to him. Letting him inspect the small roman numerals tattooed across my pulse point.
    “You got this for …” He seems like he can’t breathe.
    I nod, emotion clogging my throat. “Yes. I got this for him.”

5
Tucker
    Three Years Ago
    I f I would have known we would have this time to sit and think about the decision to get married, I probably wouldn’t have done it.
    It’s taken about a month and two weeks to really get the whole process in order, and in that time, I’ve tormented myself to hell and back. First of all, Charlotte asked me to marry her . I couldn’t even summon the courage to do it, even though of course I want her to be my wife. Next, I didn’t get down on one knee. I didn’t have a big fat diamond to present her with. I couldn’t even afford one if I wanted to. And worst of all, I couldn’t celebrate with her. Not that I couldn’t celebrate with her, I couldn’t even touch her. I couldn’t hug her or kiss her, or take her to bed and do all of the dirty, dirty things I wanted to with my fiancée.
    We parted with a simple smile and her blowing me a kiss, and then she went off to finalize plans to get us married. She’d had a hell of a time tracking down my paperwork to send in, had to go to city hall and through lawyers and so much shit that I almost wish we weren’t doing this. The only person we didn’t get a problem from was the chaplian, who thought it a good idea that I marry her and better my life.
    So here we are. April 24. Our wedding day. Me sitting in a goddamn cell in a little more modest jumpsuit of brown instead of orange.
    And Char. She’s probably standing in the visitation lobby, waiting in her tasteful white dress she’s been telling me all about. No big puffy princess wedding gown, no centerpieces, no flowers, no dad walking her down the aisle.
    I was a prick to do this to her. And yet, I still would. Because despite everything … I was still so fucking selfish. The minute she’d called me her husband, that I