Free Roustabout (The Traveling #3) by Jane Harvey-Berrick Page B

ass.” He shrugged and met my eyes. “Just do what you gotta do, Tucker. We’re cool either way.”
    Zef pushed his phone toward me. “Call them.”
    I looked at his cell phone the way I might look at a rattlesnake.
    “I always wondered what an intervention was like,” I muttered, only half joking.
    Kes cracked a smile but nobody laughed. I sighed—tough audience today.
    “Fine, I’ll make the call, but you fu—” Aimee glared at me. “Um, never mind.”
    I picked up Zef’s phone to call the number, reluctant from the soles of my feet to the tips of my fingers. But maybe they were right; maybe I needed to deal with this shit once and for all.
    Or maybe this was the worst decision I’d made in a lifetime of bad decisions.
    I dialed and it was answered on the second ring.
    “Did you talk to him? Did you speak to Tucker?”
    When I heard a woman’s voice, I nearly dropped the phone.
    “Hello?”
    I strode away from the RV. I didn’t want anyone to hear this conversation. Hell, I didn’t want to hear it myself.
    “Hello?”
    I steeled myself so no emotion showed. “Hello, Renee.”
    There was a sharp intake of breath. “Tucker?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Jackson is in the shower, so I answered his cell. We’ve been waiting to hear from you . . .”
    She was with Jackson?
    She’d spoken rapidly as if she was nervous, but now her voice tailed off and we listened to each other breathing down the line.
    “How are you?”
    “I heard Momma died.”
    There was a pause.
    “Yes, I’m sorry for your loss.”
    I laughed harshly but didn’t answer.
    “I’m sorry for everything,” she said softly.
    I rubbed my forehead, the ache worsening with every word.
    “Are you coming home?”
    “This is my home.”
    She sighed. “Are you coming back to Tennessee? The funeral is on Friday. I . . . we . . . your brothers would really like to see you.”
    “Stepbrothers. And I doubt it.”
    “Please, Tucker,” she said quietly. “You need to come.”
    “No, I really don’t need to,” I bit out.
    There was another long silence.
    “For me?”
    I shook my head even though she couldn’t see me, but words wouldn’t come.
    “Please, Tucker,” she begged, her voice breaking on my name.
    She knew I hated that. I was furious to find it still worked.
    “I’ll be there,” I said, and ended the call.
    I needed a minute before I faced my friends. It had shaken me to hear Renee’s voice after all this time. I’d never thought she’d still be living there, let alone answering my stepbrother’s cell.
    I slumped onto the bottom step of the empty carousel and leaned back against the black-and-white stripes of a wooden zebra, staring at the sun reflecting off gold hooves. His painted mouth seemed to laugh as he gazed at the short tail of the giraffe in front of him.
    “You have it easy, man,” I said, scrubbing my hands over my unshaven jaw. “You just got to stand there and look pretty, and . . .”
    “ . . . and travel in circles all day long with screaming brats sitting on your back.”
    I squinted into the sun as Jade stood in front of me, her hands planted on her narrow hips.
    “Were you having a moment with the zebra?” she smirked. “Because you might be in more trouble than I thought.”
    “Sweet cheeks, I was born trouble and just got bigger.”
    She grinned and sat down, stretching out her long, tan legs.
    “So, what are you doing talking to a wooden zebra?” she asked. “It’s not like you to be introspective.”
    “Intro—what?” I grinned at her. “Can’t even spell the word.”
    “Hmm,” she said, arching one eyebrow. “Seems to me like you’re taking life too seriously. What blew up your ass?”
    I gave her a shocked look.
    “You think I’m being serious? Say it ain’t so!”
    She laughed and pushed my shoulder.
    “That’s more like the Tucker McCoy I know. I could use a repeat performance tonight. I get so sick of guys who want to talk to me when I just want to fuck. At least with you I