Already Gone

by Kristen Proby

  “Having it catered?” I say since Scarlett booked a caterer.

  “Besides that. I hired a DJ. How cool is that? It’s going to be amazing. I really think the kids will like it.”

  “Not like. Love. They’ll love it. I don’t even want to know how much this is costing you.”

  “Don’t ask, and I won’t tell.”

  I shake my head, but I can’t keep from smiling. “I can’t believe you hired a DJ.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve already put together the playlist for the entire party. There will be no songs that talk about sex, drugs, or alcohol, and absolutely no cuss words.”

  “You’ve thought of everything. I think the party might top the puppy I’m getting her.”

  “I highly doubt that.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  She wags her brows and smiles. “I have a few things in mind that you could do to thank me.”

  One look at her hooded eyes and I know exactly what my little spitfire is thinking. I stand up, picking her up along the way, and then toss her onto the bed. Scarlett laughs as she bounces, and then settles against my pillows.

  “Where’s Chloe?” she asks, glancing at the clock. “Shouldn’t she be home from school by now?”

  “She had running club after school. I don’t have to go pick her up for another forty-five minutes,” I say, pushing Scarlett’s skirt up over her hips. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  I slide her panties off and bury my face between her legs. Scarlett’s hips lift, and she grinds herself against my face as I kiss, lick, and suck her pussy. When I push two fingers deep inside of her, I glance up the length of her body and nearly come in my pants.

  She’s propped up on an elbow. At some point, she managed to work down the front of her dress and is rubbing her breast. She twists and pinches her nipples into tight peaks while watching me.

  “Fuck, that’s hot,” I say against her wet flesh.

  Having her watch me as I eat her out is the sexiest thing. Her lips part, her breath comes in short pants, and then her legs begin to quiver, and I know that she’s close. She struggles to keep her eyes on mine, and when I suck on her swollen clit and roll my tongue around it, she loses the battle.

  Scarlett doesn’t hold back. Her lids fall closed as she buries her fingers in my hair, holding me against her core as she screams through her release. I suck her dry and continue fucking her with my tongue until her body stops shaking.

  “Jesus, Tucker,” she rasps as I lift my face from between her legs.

  She’s all mussed with her dress bunched around her hips, and her breasts red from being played with.

  “You liked that?”

  “I loved that.” A beat passes. Her eyes clear and then soften. “I love you, so much.”

  I reach between my body and the bed, work my pants down, and free my cock. “You’re about to love me a whole lot more.”

  I crawl up the bed, kissing every inch of her body along the way until I’m hovering above her.

  “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  18

  ~Scarlett~

  “Thirty-five,” Chloe announces with the cutest little shimmy dance I’ve ever seen.

  “Only thirty-five?” Tucker asks his daughter and winks at me. “That’s practically your entire fifth-grade class.”

  “Dad, I don’t want anyone to feel left out. I mean, this is the birthday party of the century. Everyone is gonna want to come. I even invited Stacy Pruitt, and she’s a b-word sometimes.”

  “Then why invite her?” I ask, brushing my fingers through her soft hair. I settle in next to her, braiding the silky strands.

  “Because she’ll feel bad if she’s the only one who doesn’t get invited.” Chloe shrugs one shoulder and examines her list of guests. One of the things I love most about this little girl is her big heart. She’s always thinking of others’ feelings.

  She’s an amazing kid.

  “Did you invite your grandma and papa?”

  “Yep, and Rick, Uncle Dean, and Scooter, too.”

  “Scooter in a bathing suit?” I ask, trying to get the image out of my head as Tucker laughs.

  “I think the adults will watch the kids swim,” Tucker says, watching me thread Chloe’s hair through my fingers.

  “You can swim, too,” Chloe informs him, and I grin, imagining Tucker in his swim trunks.

  The man has a body built for board shorts.

  “I’ll watch you guys. I’ll be the lifeguard,” he says, just as my phone rings. I glance down and frown when I see my manager, Susan’s name flash on the screen. “I’d better take this.”

  I tie off the braid and quickly walk out the back door to the deck. I haven’t spoken to Susan since I came to New Hope a month ago. I hope everything is okay.

  “Hey, Sue. What’s up?”

  “You never reply to your email,” she accuses, and I can see the stern look on her face.

  “I know. Sorry. What’s going on?”

  “I need to confirm with you that you’ll be in New York on Thursday. We have rehearsal and sound checks, and Mo said you’ll need some costume alterations.”

  I pull the phone from my ear, glance at it, then press it to my ear once again. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m in New Hope for another three weeks.”

  “Negative, Ghost Rider,” she replies. “If you’d read your damn email, you’d know that we rescheduled the shows and interviews we had to cancel when your dad had his stroke. We couldn’t be super picky on dates because it’s not like we scheduled two years out. I literally emailed you this itinerary two weeks ago.”

  “Two weeks ago, my dad was still unable to care for himself.”

  “Sorry, kiddo, the show must go on, and it’s going on this Friday night.”

  Chloe’s party is Saturday.

  Okay, I can do this.

  “I guess I can cancel—” she begins, but I interrupt her.

  “No. We won’t cancel twice, it’s my fault for not looking at my email. But, Susan, from now on, you have to call me. And I have to be back in New Hope on Saturday.”

  She’s quiet for a long moment.

  “What’s going on with you, Scar?”

  “I’m living my life,” I reply honestly. “For the first time in a long time, I’m enjoying the people who love me for more than my celebrity, and it feels damn good. So, I’ll come do the show, but I’m coming home on Saturday.”

  “Understood.” She clears her throat. “I’ll text you if anything else comes up. The plane will be in Charleston on Thursday at ten in the morning, ready to take you to New York.”

  “Thanks.” I frown, feeling bad for snapping at Susan. “And I love you. I’m just frustrated. I hate email.”

  “I should have called.” She sighs. “It’s just been busy here in the office, getting these dates rescheduled, and getting the band and singers together. It’s a lot of working parts.”

  “And I love you for working so hard. Thank you. See you Thursday.”

  “See you soon.” She hangs up, and I let out a long, breathy sigh.

  Damn it.

  I walk back into the house and hear Tucker and Chloe laughing in the living room where I left them.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Tuck’s smile falls a bit when he sees me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”

  “Okay. What’s wrong, is you’re having a good time in here, and I’m feeling left out. What gives?”

  “Dad’s just funny,” Chloe says with a giggle. “And Jenny’s mom should be here soon to get me. She’s taking us shopping to buy new bathing suits for the party.”

  “I could take you,” I offer, but Chloe shakes her head.

  “It’s totally okay. Jenny and I have it under control. Besides, you’re doing a ton.”

  “It’s my pleasure.”

  A car horn beeps, and Chloe jumps up to run outside. Fir
st, she hugs her dad, who whispers something in her ear. She nods happily. Then, she hugs me around the waist and hurries out of the house, running down the sidewalk to Jenny’s mom’s car. We follow her out onto the porch.

  All three of them wave, and then they pull away.

  “So, what’s really going on?”

  I sigh, feeling my shoulders sag in disappointment.

  “I have to be in New York on Thursday.”

  I turn to him, but rather than respond, he just takes my hand and leads me back inside.

  “I thought we had three more weeks.”

  “So did I.” I fill him in on what Susan said about rescheduling the last of the concert dates. “So, I’ll be gone for a couple of days, but I’ll be back on Saturday for the party.”

  “That seems like a tight fit,” he says, shaking his head.

  “I don’t care. I’ll make it happen. I’ll fly to Charleston after the concert if I have to and pull an all-nighter traveling home.”

  “No.” He shakes his head adamantly. “That’s too dangerous. Get some sleep after the show and head down the following morning.”

  “I’ll be here,” I insist, holding his hand tightly. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

  “I hope so,” he says. “Chloe would be crushed if you missed it. It’s her first real birthday party.”

  “I know. And I’m as excited as she is. It’s going to be great.”

  “That’s everything,” I say as I slam the trunk on my car and turn to Tucker, who helped me pack. I went ahead and gathered up pretty much everything I brought with me in the beginning, aside from some personal toiletries that I left in his bathroom, and some panties I left in the drawer he gave me in his dresser.

  The weather’s only getting hotter as summer takes over in the south, so I’ll return with more appropriate clothes.

  I’ll be in New York, for God’s sake. I can take a couple of hours Friday to do some shopping.

  “I’ll see you in two days,” I remind him as he pulls me in for a long, slow kiss.

  “See that you do,” he whispers. “My bed’s going to be damn empty without you in it.”

  “Good.” I smile as he pats my ass playfully. “That means you’ll miss me.”

  “That goes without saying.”

  “I thought we’d have longer before real life took over again. Before the things we talked about in Nashville would be an issue.”

  “It was bound to happen sooner or later,” he reminds me and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.

  “I was rooting for later.” I lean in and press my ear to his chest, holding on for just a minute more.

  “Hey, it’s going to be okay.” His big hands move over my back in soothing circles. “Stop worrying. Have a fantastic show, and we’ll see you on Saturday. Everything’s ready to go. You planned it down to the napkins, remember?”

  “And you have the folder? In case anything comes up?”

  “I have the folder.” He laughs and kisses me on the head. “You never used to be such a worry-wart.”

  “I want Chloe to have the perfect party.”

  “She will. Thanks to you.”

  “Love you,” I mutter before his lips close over mine.

  “Love you, too, babe.”

  “You’d never know you’ve been out of the game for a month,” Susan says Friday night after the show. My heart is pumping, my breath coming fast, and I can’t wait to get out of this sequined costume.

  But damn, it felt good.

  “Nothing beats Madison Square Garden,” I say before taking a long drink of water. “It’s fucking amazing.”

  “So amazing, we added a second night,” she says casually, and I blink at her.

  “For Sunday?”

  “For tomorrow.”

  My heart stops. “No. No, Susan, I told you I have to go to New Hope tomorrow.”

  She sighs and props her hands on her hips. “Scarlett, I just made you an extra three million dollars—that’s your take—by adding the second night. Not only did people want to honor the tickets they already bought for the show we canceled, but more wanted in. This is not a bad thing. It’s amazing. People work their whole lives and never experience something like this. You,”—she starts ticking off on her hand—“Beyonce, Garth, and Justin Timberlake are the only ones who come to mind who can pull this off.”

  “It’s amazing,” I agree, trying to calm her down. “But I have responsibilities—”

  “You’re a megastar,” she cuts me off coldly. “This is your responsibility. And until six weeks ago, you understood that. Now, I’m sorry about your daddy, and I’m so glad that he’s made a full recovery. Beyond that, your job is to fucking entertain the people who have given you everything you ever dreamed of.”

  “I’ll finish these last few shows with you,” I say, my voice firm, not shaking but angry. “And then we’re done.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. I’m the boss here, Susan, not the other way around. You seem to have forgotten that. Oh, and I went back and looked through my emails. You never sent one. You blindsided me.”

  “I sent it.”

  “No. You didn’t. Maybe you forgot, and that’s okay. I know this is all a lot of work. But I’m not your puppet. I’ve made you a very rich woman, and I’m done. I call the shots, not the other way around, Sue.”

  “Look, we can work this out.”

  “I’ve made up my mind.” I shake my head, feeling heartsick and so damn guilty. I can’t believe I’m going to miss Chloe’s party.

  Susan stomps out of my green room without another word, and I deflate. Jesus, she’s been with me for years. Years. I have come to rely on her for so much, and she is the boss of most things.

  But not of me or my time. Susan booked the second show without even talking to me, without confirming that it would work with my schedule. Even after I told her I had to go back home after tonight’s show.

  I mean, what in the actual fuck?

  I check my phone and see that I’ve missed a call from Tucker. I haven’t spoken to him since yesterday morning. When I call, he’s not available. And when he calls, I miss it. It’s a horrible feeling.

  I didn’t even get to talk to him last night before I went to sleep.

  I press the button to call him and frown when it goes to voicemail after four rings. It’s eleven at night. Where could he be?

  “Hey, Tuck. It’s me. Give me a call when you get my message.”

  I change out of my costume but don’t bother to take off the makeup. I’ll do that at the hotel. Right now, I just want to go back to the room, get a bite to eat, and finally talk with Tucker.

  I’m flanked by huge security guards as I’m led out of the building to a limo waiting by the stage door, and less than thirty minutes later, I’m in the presidential suite of the Waldorf.

  I strip down and clean my face, brush out my teased hair, and then take a long, hot shower, scrubbing myself clean from head to toe.

  Once I’m wrapped in a thick robe, I sit on the sofa and call Tucker again.

  “Hey,” he says. “Sorry, I was talking with Chloe when you called. She’s worried about tomorrow, but I talked her down.”

  “What is she worried about?”

  “Everything,” he says with a chuckle. “What if people don’t come? What if you don’t come?”

  Sucker-punch to the gut.

  “What if someone drowns?”

  “Well, that escalated quickly.”

  “Hey, I’m just the messenger. How are you? How was your show?”

  “The show was amazing. It felt really good.”

  “I’m glad. I’m sure you were fantastic.”

  “Thanks.” I clear my throat. “Uh, Tuck, I have some bad news.”

  “Don’t say it.” His voice is soft. “Do not tell me you can’t come tomorrow.”

  “I’m so sorry. They booked a second show on me without consulting me. The tickets are sold, it’s scheduled, and roughly for
ty-thousand people are going to show up at Madison Square Garden tomorrow night.”

  “A little girl is going to show up to her birthday party, one that you planned, and she’ll be crushed that you aren’t there.”

  “I know.” A tear drops down my cheek. “I’m so sorry, Tuck. I was as blindsided as you are, and I fired Susan.”

  “You fired her?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised. Yes, I fired her. She fucked with my family, and that won’t fly with me. Ever. God, I’m so sorry. I feel awful, and I don’t know how to make this up to you both.”

  “Hey, shit happens, right?”

  “No. This isn’t supposed to happen.”

  He’s quiet, but I can hear him breathing on the other end of the line.

  “I’m really sorry,” I whisper again.

  “I know,” he says. But he doesn’t say it’s okay. Because I know it’s not okay. I’m as disappointed as he is.

  “What can I do?”

  “I don’t know. I have to tell her. She’s going to be crushed.”

  “But she’ll be excited once she gets to the party,” I say, trying to put a positive spin on it. “And she’s getting a puppy. Trust me, as soon as she sees that, she’ll be saying, ‘Scarlett who?’”

  “You’re probably right. I have to pick her up tomorrow afternoon. Your dad’s going to hide her over at his house, and I guess I’ll have Dean pick both Rick and the pup up for the party now.”

  “Tell Dean I appreciate it.”

  “I will. Shit, this sucks. I was excited to get my hands on you tomorrow.”

  “Trust me, I was ready for you to have your hands on me. It’s been a long thirty-six-ish hours. How was your day today, anyway?”

  “Not fantastic. I had to answer a domestic violence call, and by the time I got there, the asshole had killed his wife and himself. It was pretty shitty.”

  “Oh, God, Tuck. I’m so sorry.”

  I should be there with him, holding him, letting him vent about the horrible things he saw at work, rather than telling him over the phone that I wouldn’t be home tomorrow.