Roustabout (The Traveling #3) (41 page)

It turned out that a delivery driver had left a propane gas cylinder next to a hot dog stand. The Fire Department decided that the cylinder was probably leaking gas when it exploded.

It was sheer blind luck that there were no human casualties, but three of Yolanda’s dogs had died. Tucker said he’d seen one of them—it had been too terrified by the flames to come to him, and he hadn’t been able to reach it.

Yolanda mourned the loss of her friends, as did all the carnie folk. Just because a person has fur and paws, doesn’t make them any less loved. Those dogs were her family. She still had Maverick, thank God, but they drifted around the fairground side-by-side and if Maverick was left alone for even a minute, we heard him howling in distress.

Bo was quiet and shaky for several days, spending most of his time clinging to Aimee, hiding his fearful face in her hair.

All of the guys had been treated for smoke inhalation and had been kept in the hospital for 24 hour observation, and Zef had a badly sprained wrist, as well. That was a long day. Seeing Tucker lying on a gurney again—I dreaded to imagine that it might be something I would have to get used to.

It was worse for Kes because we’d all been waiting to hear about Ollo. The little man had nearly died, and the two weeks of his hospital stay was the longest he’d ever been away from his carnival home. He’d hated every moment. Kes had taken it hard, wanting to believe that Ollo was indestructible. But nothing lasts forever. Even Connor had come down to visit Ollo in hospital. He was their last link with the past.

Most of the carnies had left for their winter camp, but a few were still on site. In another week, Kes and Aimee were heading up the coast to Arcata with Ollo. Luke and Zach were going with them, planning to build their own cabin on Kes’s land.

“Back to your place then?” said Tucker, raising an eyebrow as my gaze tracked across his firm chest and narrow hips.

“Our place,” I corrected him automatically.

Tucker grinned and tugged me forward so he could zip up my leather jacket. Oh, and cop a feel along the way. Hmm, well, he wasn’t the only one who could play that game. Soon, I was beginning to wonder if we’d make it out of the parking lot at all, but eventually, we had to come up for air.

I’d gone a long way from being the Senator’s daughter, afraid of PDA and the possible ensuing publicity.

Tucker helped me onto the terrifyingly high pillion seat on the Ducati. I still hadn’t gotten used to it, and it didn’t feel particularly safe, but Tucker was careful when I rode with him. And I have to admit, the throaty roar as he started the engine was darn sexy. Just like Tucker.

As we neared my apartment, I sat up straighter, then clung to Tucker when I made the bike wobble.

Parked outside was a dark sedan.

Tucker cruised to a halt and kicked down the bike-stand then swung off the seat and turned to help me down.

The driver’s door opened and my father climbed out. We stared at each across the sidewalk, until I felt Tucker’s hands unfastening my helmet. He’d already removed his own and his expression was concerned.

“You don’t have to talk to him, sugar.”

I gave a small smile. “No, that’s fine. But . . . stay with me?”

He took my hand in unspoken acknowledgement and we walked toward the Senator.

“Hello, Tera,” he said, flicking a gaze to Tucker before meeting my eyes.

“Hi, Dad.”

Tucker stood silently next to me, his face unreadable.

My father cleared his throat. “Your mother misses you.

“I miss her, too,” I said honestly. “But she knows where she can find me. Obviously.”

He glanced at Tucker again, who had remained uncharacteristically mute.

“Can we go somewhere to talk?” Dad asked at last.

“Sure,” I said evenly. “Come on in.”

“Somewhere private,” he said smoothly.

I cocked my head on one side. “What could be more private than our apartment, Dad?”

I saw him frown when I said ‘our apartment’, but the emotion was immediately cleared from his face. He changed his tactics, turning to Tucker.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I spoke privately to my daughter, would you?”

Tucker gave a cool smile. “No, I don’t mind, but Tera asked me to stay, so I’m staying.”

Dad was too used to the political game to show his annoyance, but I could tell that he was more than a little irritated at our refusal to play by his rules.

I tucked my hand into the pocket of Tucker’s leather jacket, and he smiled down at me, placing his arm around my shoulders.

Part of being a good politician is knowing which battles to fight, so Dad just smiled and waved for us to lead him inside.

The apartment was much smaller than the one I’d had in San Francisco, but it was light and airy and within my budget. Tucker had made little impact upon the décor, shrugging when I asked his opinion on colors or fabrics, seeming bemused by my questions.

The most obvious sign of his inhabitance was a set of racing leathers hanging by the front door like a sloughed off skin.

I watched my father taking it all in, his eyes resting on Tucker’s leathers before moving to the small, framed photographs hanging on one wall. His eyes softened as he gazed at a picture of him with my mother and Arnold Schwarzenegger at some political rally. Next to it was one of Kes and Tucker flying through the air, mid-stunt; and finally, a photo of Tucker sitting on the Duke with me leaning into him. I loved that picture.

He stood by the window, his hands in his pockets. I knew he wouldn’t sit down, because in a power negotiation, the person standing has more influence than the person sitting.

I perched on a bar stool and Tucker stood behind me so I could lean against his firm chest.

“How are you?” Dad asked. “You look well.”

“I am, thank you.” There was an awkward pause. “How’s Mom?”

“Busy,” he smiled. “The usual. But I meant what I said—she misses you.”

“I’m not going back,” I said firmly. “Not to Minnesota or San Francisco or D.C. . This is my home now.”

Dad looked across at me, his eyes intense.

“It wasn’t a wise decision to move down here,” he began. “And I know you took a pay cut.”

Tucker shifted behind me and I knew I’d be answering questions about that later, as I’d omitted to pass on that particular fact.

“It was the right decision and my new job offers plenty of potential,” I said calmly. “Besides, I don’t want to work with politicians anymore.”

Dad flinched minutely. “You have a Master’s degree in Political Science,” he pointed out. “What use will that be to you if you stay where you are?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised how many actors go into politics.”

He gave a small smile, conceding that I’d won that point.

I folded my arms. “Why are you here, Dad?”

He pursed his lips. “May I speak candidly?”

“That would be a nice change.”

He gave an amused chuckle. “Old habits. I want you to come and work for me. Not as an intern, but as a paid member of staff. You’d have your own office, a six-figure salary, and . . .”

“Dad, stop. I’ve already told you. It’s a great offer, but it’s not for me. I’m happy here.”

He shook his head, disappointment written on his face.

“You can do better than this, Tera,” he said, looking over my head at Tucker. “So much better.”

I felt Tucker tense behind me.

“Thank you for the offer, Dad, but the answer is no.”

He stared at Tucker again.

“Is this what you want for her? Earning a fraction of the money she could, living in some non-descript suburb, waiting around for a guy who performs in the circus?”

“Dad!”

Tucker laughed.

“Do I think I’m good enough for her? Hell, no. Do I want her to give up her life to follow me around the country? No fucking way. But whatever she wants, I’ll break every bone in my body to give it to her.”

Hearing his words, so certain and sure, my heart expanded.

My father snorted with amusement. “It’s so easy for you to say the words, isn’t it? But I know your type: you’ll never be satisfied with just one woman.”

Tucker stood up straight and walked around to stand next to me.

“You’d know about that, wouldn’t you, Senator? Having more than one woman? Kestrel’s mom wasn’t enough for you. So you had Tera’s mom, too.”

My father’s eyes flashed angrily and he surged toward Tucker.

Tucker just grinned and held his hands away from his sides.

“We gonna throw down now, Senator? That could be interesting: one on one, without your goons to back you up. I’ll give you a tip: my right shoulder is still fucked. That’ll give you an advantage. Come on!”

“Stop it!” I yelled, pressing both hands on Tucker’s chest and pushing him backward. “There’ll be no fighting! Do you hear me? Both of you?”

Tucker smiled and winked at me, but my father looked furious.

“For God’s sake, Tera! He’s barely more than a circus clown! Is that what you want out of life?”

“Yes.”

He put his hands on his hips and shook his head.

I expected Tucker to look triumphant, but his face was hard.

“Why do you hate the carnival so much, Mr. Hawkins? Is it because you were too chickenshit to travel with Kes’s mom when you had the chance? Too scared to follow your own road?”

I threw a surprised look at Tucker, but it was my father’s bitter expression that caught my attention. His shoulders slumped and he looked torn.

“Maura was . . . different,” he said slowly. “You can believe me or not, but I did care about her. But I also had responsibilities to more than myself. My family had expectations, and I cared about that more.” He shrugged. “Maura would never have given up the carnival—she didn’t know any better.”

I shook my head sadly.

“And my brothers?”

He sighed. “They’ve grown into fine men.”

“Both of them?”

He gave me a small smile. “Yes, both of them.” He paused. “I heard that Kestrel saved a child’s life.”

I felt a warm glow at his words, however much I’d forced them out of him.

“How’s Ollo?” he asked.

This time I couldn’t help my smile. “Doing better. Thank you for asking.”

He nodded. “I’m glad. Ollo’s quite a character.”

I walked toward my father and he hugged me tightly, wrapping his arms around me.

“I’m not choosing the carnival, Dad. That’s what you don’t understand: I’m choosing Tucker. He’s a fine man, too. And I love him.”

My father blinked, then closed his eyes.

“I know. But I had to try.”

My father left soon after. He and Tucker were never going to be going out for beers together, but I hoped that they wouldn’t be inclined to punch each other either.

“Are you okay, sugar?” he asked, pulling me onto the sofa so we were snuggled up together.

“Yes, I am. Actually, I’m really good. Thank you for not hitting him.”

Tucker laughed lightly. “I didn’t think you’d let me sleep with you if I beat the shit out of your father.”

I tickled his ribs and he yelped.

“Still think you’re getting lucky tonight, mister?”

He looked at me seriously. “I feel lucky every night, sugar. Every damn night.”

We were saying goodbye to our friends.

Zef was taking the rig up to Arcata, then flying east to see his on-again/off-again girlfriend, Mirelle.

Kes was driving the RV with Aimee and Bo, and Luke and Zach were going with them to start work on their own cabin.

I could tell that Tucker was torn: he’d promised to help his friends, but our relationship was still so new, we wanted to spend time together, as well.

We’d discussed it and decided together that we’d give ourselves two weeks, then Tucker would go up to Arcata and help with the groundwork and ordering supplies. He’d spend four days a week working on the new cabin while I went to my job in LA, then we’d spend weekends together. It wasn’t ideal, but both of us were learning the meaning of a new word: compromise.

“You guys are welcome to come for Christmas,” Aimee offered. “So long as you don’t mind sleeping in the RV,” and she threw me an amused look, knowing that I wasn’t overly fond of it.

“Thanks, Aimee, but we’re kind of thinking that we’d like to have Christmas just the two of us.”

“Yeah,” said Tucker. “I want to see my girl in her Christmas stockings.”

Kes threw an apple core at Tucker’s head. “That’s my
sister
you’re talking about, asshole!”

Tucker laughed and pulled me against his firm chest.

“Your brother has issues,” he said in a loud whisper. “Maybe he isn’t getting any.”

Aimee spluttered, her cheeks going pink.

“You’ll pay for that McCoy,” she threatened. “And it
so
isn’t true!”

She whispered something to Kes and his frown disappeared instantly.

Zef rolled his eyes. “We gotta hit the road. Lot of miles to travel.”

I stood up and gave him a quick hug, then kissed Zach and Luke, while Tucker did the man-hug-shoulder-slap thing.

We watched as Zach and Luke’s truck disappeared from the near-empty fairground, the rig following behind. Zef shouted something obscene at Tucker, who grinned and gave him the finger.