He nods. “How does Mama Italiana sound?”
“Delicious.”
I settle back against the seat and watch our little town pass by. It’s changed so much. Grown dramatically. So much so that I barely recognize it.
“When did that little strip mall go in?”
“About ten years ago.”
New Hope is charming. A river runs right through it, with huge oak trees flanking it on either side. It’s perfect for picnics and parties.
“Looks like they paved those walking paths by the river.”
“A few years ago, yeah. It’s great for running, walking, biking. You name it.”
“I like it.”
He squeezes my hand and pulls into Mama’s. It’s a Friday evening, so the lot is full. Mama’s makes the best lasagna in the state and has been a hotspot in town for three decades.
“It’s good to see that some things haven’t changed.”
“Like the food?”
“Exactly. It wouldn’t be home without Charlie’s and Mama’s.”
Tucker walks around the car to open my door, takes my hand, and leads me into the restaurant. The tables are covered in red-and-white-checkered tablecloths. The room is dimly lit, with candles stuck in wine bottles on every table.
“Hi, Mr. Tucker,” a pretty young woman says with a bright smile when she sees us. “I have your table ready.”
“Thanks, Shelly.”
She preens and leads us through the packed restaurant to a table in the back. I notice that people see us, recognize us, but no one says a thing to me.
Tucker, on the other hand, is a different story. People wave, or call out, “hey there, Tucker.” He smiles and waves back as we weave our way through the tables.
This is new for me. I’m usually the one everyone wants to say hello to, wants to hug and have their photo taken with.
But tonight, in our hometown, Tucker’s the celebrity. I might as well be invisible.
I don’t know how to feel about that.
“I’ll sit next to you, if you don’t mind,” Tucker says, sliding into the booth next to me, rather than across from me.
“I don’t mind.”
“Here you go,” Shelly says, passing us laminated menus, and then, after giving Tucker another big smile, showing off a dimple in her left cheek, she sashays away.
“I don’t even have to look at it,” Tucker says, setting his menu aside. “I get the same thing every time.”
I glance over the menu, surprised to see that nothing on it has changed since I left town. “I guess I’m the same.”
I lay my menu on top of his, and just as he leans in to whisper something in my ear, a woman approaches the table.
She glances at me, but she’s all about Tucker as she touches his shoulder and smiles.
“I wanted to come over to say thank you again for stopping by the other night. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
She winks at him, her hand still resting on his shoulder, and I feel my eyes narrow on her.
He was at her house? What did he do for her, exactly?
I’m not used to feeling jealous. At all.
I’m not a jealous woman.
But I don’t like this.
“Just doing my job,” Tucker replies, then turns back to me, dismissing the blonde. She smiles and awkwardly turns away. “You look amazing,” he whispers in my ear.
“Thanks. I didn’t have a lot of time to get ready. Who was that?”
“Maryanne Thompson. Her cat was stuck in a tree.”
“That’s a little cliché, isn’t it?”
She probably put her pet in the tree on purpose. Poor thing.
Tucker shrugs and kisses the spot below my ear, causing me to shiver. “I just responded to the call.”
“Isn’t that something a firefighter would normally take care of?” I ask, tilting my head a little to the side so he has more room to keep kissing me.
“The department was already on a call. Are you jealous?”
“No,” I scoff, shaking my head. “I don’t get jealous. It’s not part of my DNA.”
“Good.” His hand slides over my thigh, and through the thin material of my dress, I can feel his warmth. All thoughts of Maryanne and her cat fly right out the window. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since our kiss.”
I drag in a ragged breath and look around. We’re in a corner, and no one is paying us any attention. There sure as heck isn’t any paparazzi around, and the tablecloth reaches the floor.
I part my legs, allowing his hand to drop between them.
Tucker’s eyes fly to mine, a mischievous grin on his handsome face. “You always were a little wild.”
“Not much has changed.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he whispers, capturing my lips in another kiss. “Everything has changed.”
His hand inches higher and higher, lifting my dress with its ascent, and… Oh, God. Come on, Tucker, just do it already.
I’m so freaking turned on. If we weren’t in a busy restaurant, I’d climb on top of him and take over.
“Tucker Andrews, is that you?”
Seriously? We’re interrupted, again, this time by a brunette with big, brown eyes and fake boobs bigger than Dolly’s.
“Hey, Darla.”
Dolly, Darla. Darla, Dolly. Close enough.
The difference is, I adore Dolly. She’s always been nothing but sweet to me. Writing Whiskey and Roses with her three years ago was one of the biggest honors of my life.
Darla, however, can take a long walk off a short pier. How dare she think it’s okay to just walk up and interrupt two people when they’re…okay, so maybe she didn’t exactly know what she was interrupting. But, still. It’s rude.
And something that happens to me all the damn time, which is why I sit back and take a deep breath.
“I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you out of your uniform. You’re usually always on duty. Casual looks good on you.” Darla props her hands on her hips, showcasing her impressive breasts, and really, I want to laugh.
But I’m not a mean girl.
I am, however, a little territorial, and she needs to step back.
“He surprised me with a night out,” I say, taking Tuck’s hand in mine. I kiss his shoulder and smile up at her. “Isn’t that sweet?”
Darla’s smile falters as she looks at our hands. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Scarlett Kincaid. I heard you were in town.”
I tilt my head to the side. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. Are you from around here?”
She nods smugly and licks her lips as her eyes fall to Tucker. “Born and raised, but you probably don’t remember me from school. I’m quite a bit younger than you.”
“Ah. Well, I’m sure there are men your own age around here somewhere. Now, if you don’t mind, we’d like to get back to our date.”
I smile innocently, and Darla scowls, looking at Tucker to save her.
“It was nice seeing you, Darla. Enjoy your evening,” he says, dismissing her in the nicest possible way.
Her jaw drops, and then she huffs away.
“You don’t get jealous, huh? Your brown eyes are looking a bit green, sweetheart.”
I shrug my bare shoulder. “I mean, I’m sitting right here. They can flirt with you when I’m not around.”
He kisses my temple just as our waitress arrives.
“Hey, Tucker. Scarlett.” She pulls a pad of paper out of the pocket on her apron. “What can I get y’all tonight?”
“Lasagna, extra bread,” I inform her, fully intending to spend the morning working out to burn off the extra carbs.
“Two of those,” Tucker says.
“Drinks?”
“Two sweet teas,” Tucker replies before I can respond, and then the waitress is gone, weaving her way through the full tables. “You don’t have anything to be jealous of.”
“I told you, I’m not jealous,” I lie easily, s
ipping my water.
“No. Not at all.” He laughs and wraps an arm around my shoulders, tugging me closer to him. “You’re the poster child for calm and collected.”
“I know.”
He laughs now and kisses my cheek. Affectionate Tucker is new. He wasn’t this handsy when he was seventeen. Then again… I didn’t give him the chance to be.
I like it.
A lot.
“You have good hands,” I inform him, running my fingers over his knuckles.
“Keep touching me like that, and I’ll have to show you just how good they can be,” he breathes, and the entire room falls away, leaving just the two of us.
It’s like something out of a cheesy chick flick, and I love it more than I can say. My heart pounds, my breaths coming fast as I stare up into his eyes, wishing he would kiss me and touch me.
Because Tucker can kiss.
“Tucker…” In a brazen move, I take his hand and put it back on my thigh.
“Here ya go,” the waitress says as she sets our plates in front of us.
Really? I blow out a breath, and Tucker laughs. He’s enjoying this. He knows that I’m absolutely crazy for him, and he’s getting a kick out of my frustration.
“That was quick,” I say.
“Lasagna and bread is pretty easy.” She winks, sets our teas on the table, then hurries away.
“I’m starving,” I say, trying to calm my libido. Plus, the faster we eat, the quicker we can get out of here.
“Me, too,” he replies. But his eyes aren’t on our delicious meal, they’re on me. My body heats under his stare, and I nudge him with my arm.
“Food will have to do for now, I guess.”
“Lightning bugs.” I point ahead on the path where the insects bob and weave through the air.
“You always had a soft spot for them. Wouldn’t let me catch them.”
“You used to pull their lights off,” I say, remembering the days we spent running together down by the river.
One evening, Tucker pulled a light from a lightning bug and stuck it on my ring finger. “It looks like a diamond on your hand,” he said, proud of what he’d done.
“Ew, get that off me.” I wiped my finger off in the grass and scowled at Tucker. “You just killed an innocent bug to put a gross green light on my finger.”
“Next time I put something on your finger, it’ll be a ring,” was his reply. Tucker wasn’t a cocky sixteen-year-old, but he knew what he wanted, and he wanted me. Unfortunately, I was a bitch of epic proportions, and the only thing I had my eye on was getting the hell out of dodge.
“In your dreams, Tucker Andrews.”
“What are you thinking about?” Tucker asks, pulling me from the memory.
“Us.”
“I like that topic. What about us?”
After dinner, we decided to wander by the river, hand in hand. The sexual tension between us has been off the charts. Part of me wishes we’d gone right home to get naked and sweaty.
The other part of me is happy for this reprieve. Things are moving fast between us. I don’t regret it—at all—but once we do this, there’s no going back. We’ll officially cross the line from childhood buddies to lovers, and I admit, I’m a bit nervous.
I’m not second-guessing. There’s a difference.
When I’m around Tucker, my body feels like a live wire, and when he touches me, I light up. Just the thought of him being on top of me, feeling the weight of his body as he devours me, has me sucking in a sharp breath.
“Are you feeling okay? I can take you home if you’re not,” he offers, looking a little disappointed at the prospect.
“I can’t go home,” I remind him. “No women allowed, remember?”
He grins. “Pretty sure your dad wouldn’t kick you out.”
“I don’t want to go home.”
We stop on the sidewalk by his car. He grips my shoulders and turns me to face him. His eyes shine in the moonlight. His jaw is firm and tight, his hands warm.
He’s home for me. He always has been.
“I don’t want to go to my dad’s house. I want to go home with you.”
“There’s nothing I would love more than to take you back to my place. But, Scarlett, you look nervous.” He presses a hand over the left side of my chest. “Your heart is beating a mile a minute, and your cheeks are flushed. Sweetheart, we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.” He drags a knuckle down the apple of my cheek. “We’re in no hurry, Scar.”
“I don’t have jitters. I’m no virgin, Tuck, any more than you are. That’s just what you do to me. Being close to you makes my heart race.”
He smiles. “Nothing else is bothering you, then?”
“Maybe one thing.” He cups my cheek, and I close my hand over his, leaning into his touch. “I don’t want to lose our friendship. If something happens, and we don’t work out, I don’t want to lose you again. I just got you back.”
He steps closer and lowers his face to within inches of mine.
“I’m not going anywhere. Whether we go home and make love all night, or you tell me to back the hell off, I’m your friend, Scarlett.”
I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve this tenderness, this loyalty.
But I won’t reject it. I didn’t know how much I missed this, missed him until I had him back in my life again, and I will not fuck this up.
“Now what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that it’s about time you take me back to your place and have your way with me.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. What’re you thinking?” Please tell me you’re thinking the same thing.
“I’m thinking that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“I like it. Keep going.”
“And I’m the luckiest man in the world because I’m here with you.”
“Tuck?”
“Yes, sweetness.”
“Take me home before I get you naked on the hood of your car.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
11
~ Tucker ~
Being around Scarlett is a continuous struggle. Even more so as an adult than when I was a teenager. She’s so gorgeous and sweet and funny and sassy, and all I want to do when she’s around is shove her up against a wall and bury myself deep inside her body.
Dinner tonight was torture. When she spread her legs beneath the table, I thought I was going to come right there in my pants like a horny virgin teenager. I struggled to keep it together throughout dinner, and now I’m fighting to keep my cock deflated until we get back to my place, which is practically impossible with her sitting beside me in that dress.
I wasn’t lying when I told her that she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen—she truly is. But it’s not just what’s on the outside that I find attractive. All of Scarlett is sexy, even the green monster she keeps hidden deep inside.
I pull into the driveway, open her car door, and we practically run like school kids to the front door. She wraps herself around me, peppering me with kisses while I try to unlock the door. We stumble through it in a tangle of arms and legs, and as soon as I get the door shut, I spin her around and pin her against it.
The smile on her face dies. Her eyes fall to my lips. I push my fingers into her hair, cup the back of her head, and pull her face toward mine. Our lips crash together. A low moan pulls from her throat, and that’s all the encouragement I need. I push my tongue into her mouth and kiss her the way I’ve been dreaming about since our make-out session in her dad’s front yard.
She fists the front of my shirt and plasters her soft curves to my body, and there’s no holding back the groan that pulls from my chest. I’ve dreamed of this for years—having her all to myself. Now, here she is, my sweet Scarlett, trying to climb me like a tree.
With one hand on her head, keeping her where I want her, I slide the other to her lower back. I press my palm to the small dip at the top of her ass and she arches, pushin
g her hips to mine. When she rolls her hips against me, I cup a hand to her ass and lift her up.
Scarlett wraps her legs around my waist. Her hands are everywhere—in my hair, sliding over my shoulders and along my neck before diving back into my hair. I could’ve taken her against the door, but I’ve waited too damn long to be with this woman, and I want to do it right.
With our lips fused together, I stride down the hall and kick open my bedroom door. I lower Scarlett to her feet and take a step back. Her chest rises and falls with each ragged breath she takes. Her lips are swollen and red, her eyes hooded, and all I want to do is drink her in, memorize everything about this moment because everything about it is perfect. But Scarlett has other plans. She launches herself at me.
She whispers my name before her lips land on mine. Our tongues stroke each other in desperation, our hands reaching and pulling and holding on with more passion than I’ve ever felt. But if we don’t slow things down, I’m going to embarrass myself.
Pulling my mouth from hers, I skim my lips across her jaw and down the side of her neck. “Slow down, baby. We’re in no hurry.”
“I can’t slow down. I need you, Tucker.”
“You have me.”
She growls. “You know what I mean.”
I chuckle against her skin. “I never could say no to you.”
I bring my hands to her neck and slowly slide them down her shoulders, pulling her dress down until the material pools in a pile at our feet. My eyes rake over her body, devouring her as she stands before me in a strapless nude lace bra and matching panties.
“My God, you’re beautiful.”
“Tucker.”
When I look up, our eyes meet. Hers are full of hunger as she searches my face.
“Slow first, or fast? You choose, but make no mistake about it, at some point tonight, I’m taking my time and learning every inch of your body,” I declare, grazing my knuckles over her chest. My eyes follow the movement of my hand, and when I brush them along her stomach, she quivers. I trail my finger along the edge of her underwear. “What’s it going to be?”
Her nipples peak against the lacy material, and my mouth waters, but I won’t taste her until she gives me an answer.
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