Always & Forever: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (ABCs of Love Collection, Books 1 - 4)

by Brenna Jacobs

  Melba grinned. “Like it?”

  Avery took another bite. Did she like it? It was maybe the best cornbread she’d ever had. Melba made it like she was supposed to—without sugar, in a well-seasoned iron skillet coated with enough butter to make the cornbread crispy around the edges.

  “It isn’t the cornbread that tastes like bacon,” Melba said. “It’s the butter.”

  “You put bacon in your butter?”

  Melba raised her shoulders. “Just a touch of the grease. It didn’t take much.”

  Avery’s arteries protested even as her stomach rejoiced. It was a good thing Melba didn’t cook for her all the time.

  “So,” Melba said, leaning back in her chair.

  Avery steeled herself for the interrogation she knew was coming. Melba was as predictable as the tides.

  Avery fished a shrimp out of her bowl, piling grits on top of it before putting the whole bite into her mouth. She didn’t hurry. Shrimp and grits was a meal to be savored, after all. She’d let Melba ask her questions, but she didn’t have to make it easy on her. “So,” she repeated, when she’d swallowed her food.

  Melba leaned her elbows onto the table. “I saw Tucker’s truck this morning,” she said. “Mite early for a visit, wasn’t it?”

  Avery kept her eyes on her food. A part of her wanted to lie just to spite Melba. Nothing had happened with Tucker. But if it had, it wasn’t Melba’s place to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. But Melba only asked because she was concerned. And based on how Tucker had behaved the night before, she had reason to be. Avery swallowed her pride. “Nothing happened, Melba.”

  Melba raised an eyebrow. “Nothing? Was he there all night?”

  “Yes. But nothing happened. He showed up at my house and I could tell he’d been drinking. I didn’t want him to drive himself home, so I let him stay. But he slept on the couch.” Not that he hadn’t tried to sleep in her bed.

  Melba nodded her head, then looked at Avery’s phone, still sitting on the table next to her. “Well that’s a relief. I didn’t think you were the kind of woman that would share her bed with one man, when you’re actually interested in another.”

  Heat traveled up Avery’s neck, pooling in her cheeks; Melba’s words struck a little too close to the truth. She reached up and flipped over her phone, face down onto the table. How had Melba seen what she’d been reading anyway?

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Avery asked. “I’m not interested in David. And things with Tucker are fine.” Well, fine-ish. Her night with Tucker hadn’t been awful, exactly. When she’d invited him over, she’d definitely thought about where the night might lead. But then he’d shown up already halfway to drunk. He’d pressured her in ways that had made her really uncomfortable and had been sullen and rude when she’d insisted he sleep on the couch. She’d wanted to believe that Tucker was all in, interested in making their relationship what she’d always believed it could have been the first time around. But the night before had felt a lot like their old relationship. It might just have been the alcohol talking, but is that what she wanted? A relationship where she had to ask that question?

  “Avery, what’s this about? This whole idea of getting back together with Tucker?” Melba reached over and squeezed Avery’s hand. “It didn’t work the first time around, sugar. What makes you think this time will be any different?”

  Avery considered the question. The summer she’d met Tucker, she’d been working at the yacht club, putting herself through school, scrimping and saving every penny so she could afford to live out on the island and help her grandma cover the property taxes that made beach living so expensive. She’d always known Charleston was full of old money, but she’d never really experienced it up close. She’d grown up going to public high school, shopping at the outlets, eating seafood from the fish camps out on the islands. She wasn’t a King Street boutiques and Magnolia’s Sunday brunches kind of girl. She’d never felt like she was missing out, either. Not until that summer. She’d been scrubbing the dock right beside the King’s sailboat when Tucker had emerged from the bowels of the boat, a cold water bottle in hand. He’d passed it to her with a wide smile, showing his perfectly straight teeth. “You look like you could use this,” he had said.

  Next thing she knew, she was wearing sundresses and wedge sandals, attending garden parties and symphony concerts on Tucker’s arm. Every weekend, it was something different, somewhere different. Restaurants she’d only ever walked past. Wine that cost more than she earned in a week. Benefits that took place inside mansions she’d only read about in history books. She didn’t miss the parties or the events. She’d never loved getting dressed up or pretending like she cared about people she knew she’d never see again. There were things she had missed, though.

  “Is it about the money?” Melba asked.

  Avery looked up. “What? No. It’s definitely not that.” And it wasn’t. At least not directly. The luxuries that came along with dating Tucker were a nice perk, but for Avery it was more about the opportunities that came from being associated with the King family. Avery had fought her entire life to get what she wanted. She’d fought to get into the magnet high school in her school district. Fought to get into the College of Charleston. Fought to save enough money to live where she wanted. Fought to get her dream job at the aquarium. But Tucker didn’t really have to fight. His name alone opened doors that would never open to Avery on her own. “It’s dumb,” Avery said, finally meeting Melba’s eye. “I know you’ll think it’s dumb anyway.”

  “Try me,” Melba said.

  Avery took a steadying breath and fiddled with her spoon, scraping it around the edge of her bowl. “I guess it’s about feeling important,” she said. “I felt special, you know? Tucker could have dated any girl he wanted. And he picked me.”

  Melba tilted her head, her eyes narrowed. “I think you’re maybe putting that boy up on a pedestal where he doesn’t belong. He’s just a man, Avery. And one that broke your heart pretty solid if I remember correctly.”

  “I know he did, but . . . he’s being really sweet this time around. It’s different.” Avery pushed thoughts of the night before out of her mind. One bad night didn’t disqualify all the other times Tucker had been sweet.

  Melba cleared her throat but didn’t say anything else about Tucker. It made Avery nervous. With Melba, silence usually meant she had thoughts she’d decided were too mean to actually share out loud.

  “Always choose kindness,” Melba had told Avery once, when she was a little girl. They’d been sitting on Melba’s back porch, Avery and her grandma, drinking Cheerwine from the old green fridge and talking about middle school. Avery was weeks away from starting the seventh grade and was convinced middle school girls were the meanest on earth.

  “Child, you just be nice to everybody,” her grandma had said.

  Melba had nodded her agreement. “You won’t be able to change how other people treat you,” Melba had said. “But if you are always kind, you can at least guarantee that when you go to sleep at night, you won’t feel regret.” As far as Avery could tell, Melba had always lived by the mantra, though often enough that meant sitting through conversations in silence if she didn’t trust herself not to say anything mean if she let herself say anything at all.

  “Tell me about David,” Melba said, giving Avery a pointed look. “What’s going on with him?”

  “Nothing,” Avery answered, a little too quickly. She’d been hoping for a subject change, but this one felt like jumping from one hot skillet into another.

  Melba shot her a look and Avery rolled her eyes. “We got into a little disagreement the other night. But it’s fine. I apologized. He apologized. We’re friends.”

  “What was the argument over?”

  Avery hated to tell her. It wasn’t exactly going to help her convince Melba that Tucker wasn’t a week’s worth of bad news. She stalled by eating a few more bites of her dinner. When she reached for another slice of cornbread, Melba moved t
he pan away and shook her head. “Nope. Talk first. You’ll get more when you’ve said your piece.”

  Avery huffed. “Why are you being so hard on me?”

  “It took me three hours to make that supper sitting in front of you. I even walked down to Barley’s and bought the shrimp fresh. They were swimming at the bottom of the ocean six hours ago and now they’re in your bowl, thanks to me. I think I’ve earned the right to make a few demands, don’t you?”

  Avery pursed her lips. If she didn’t love Melba so much, she might be annoyed. “David thinks I shouldn’t be dating Tucker. He says he doesn’t trust him.”

  Melba smiled. “Does he, now?”

  “But it’s not justified in David’s case. He doesn’t even know Tucker. He’s only saying it because . . .” Avery hesitated. It suddenly felt a little too cocky to say that the reason David didn’t like Tucker was because he wanted to be dating her himself.

  “Because he wants to date you?” Melba finished the sentence for her. “Are you sure that’s his only motivation?”

  Avery shrugged. “He’s not exactly subtle. The guy literally has zero game. He just puts his feelings out there. Unfiltered.”

  “Sounds kind of refreshing,” Melba said. “You never have to wonder how he feels.”

  “Maybe,” Avery said. “But it’s also totally disarming. I have no idea how I’m supposed to react when he just straight up tells me that he’s jealous of Tucker. Or tells me that he knows what he wants and that it’s me.”

  “He said that?” Melba said. “That’s bold.”

  “Not exactly,” Avery said. “But he definitely implied it.”

  “So?” Melba scraped out the last bite of her dinner then slid the cornbread in Avery’s direction. “Go on,” she said. “You’ve earned it.”

  “So . . . what?” Avery lifted a pie-shaped piece out of the skillet.

  “How do you feel about him?”

  “I’m dating Tucker, Melba. It doesn’t matter how I feel about David.”

  “Fine. Hypothetically, then. If Tucker weren’t in the picture, would you give the doctor a chance?”

  Avery chewed her cornbread in silence. She would give David a chance, as weird as it felt to admit as much to herself. He was so far outside of the kinds of guys she typically dated. But he’d grown on her.

  “I think the doctor is pretty cute,” Melba said, before Avery had a chance to answer. “I bet those baby blue eyes charm the pants off of his patients when he’s working.”

  “Melba!” Avery said, laughing at her friend. “Shame on you.”

  “I wasn’t being literal,” Melba said with a grin. “But you’ve got to admit. Those are some fine eyes.”

  “How do you even know that? Have you met him yet?”

  Melba looked affronted. “Of course I’ve met him. I ran into him on the beach. I invited him over for a Cheerwine and we sat on the back porch for over an hour talking. He made a couple of really good suggestions about how I can help the arthritis in my fingers.”

  “That was nice of him,” Avery said.

  “It sure was.”

  Avery stood up and gathered their dishes, walking them to the kitchen sink. “Shall I summarize the messages of the evening?” she said. She gave the dishes a quick rinse, then turned around, leaning against the counter. “Tucker is bad for me and shouldn’t be trusted. David is good for me and has killer blue eyes. Does that about cover it?”

  Melba scrunched up her face like she was contemplating the mysteries of the universe instead of sticking her nose into the middle of Avery’s dating life. “David has good lips, too, don’t you think?” she said. “Really full and kissable.”

  Avery tossed a dish towel at Melba’s head. “You’re terrible, Melba. Terrible.”

  On her way home from Melba’s, Avery walked past David’s house. His car was in the driveway, but based on their texts that morning, he was probably just waking up. For a minute, she thought about racing back to Melba’s and fixing a to-go plate of shrimp and grits to drop off for him. She knew he liked it—he’d ordered it when they’d gotten lunch when he’d come to visit the aquarium—and Melba’s was way better than what he’d eaten there. But then Avery’s phone dinged with an incoming text and she stopped thinking about David.

  I’m sorry about last night, the text from Tucker read. When can I see you again?

  Avery cut between her yard and David’s and headed straight for the beach. Maybe the wind and the sound of the waves would settle her nerves, help her sort out the muddle of emotions swirling through her chest. She sank onto the sand, knees pulled up and looked out at the water. The beach was nearly deserted, only a few people here and there walking through the foamy surf where the water met the sand.

  So much about her relationship with Tucker felt right. But there was something niggling in the back of Avery’s mind, something that told her it wasn’t all right. She still had doubts. Hesitations. And if she were being totally honest with herself, David was a big part of that. Because she liked him. And though she’d never admit as much to Melba, she had noticed both his killer eyes, and his full, kissable lips. She wouldn’t have noticed those things if there wasn’t some potential for an actual relationship, would she?

  She pulled up Tucker’s text and read it again. I think we need to talk, she typed. Can you come over?

  I wish I could, he immediately responded. I’m out of town until next weekend. Can I see you on Sunday?

  Avery frowned. Sunday was more than a week away. Why hadn’t he mentioned that he was traveling? Is that why he’d left so early that morning?

  Sunday is good, Avery texted. Maybe an extra week would be good for her in the end. She’d have plenty of time to mull over her feelings and decide how she wanted her conversation with Tucker to go.

  Chapter 14

  Monday morning, David was happy to discover he and Lucy were working the same shift. It wasn’t as if there was a whole lot of time to stand around and talk during a typical day, but he still preferred working with Lucy over anyone else. Lucy didn’t take herself too seriously, but she didn’t let her humor interfere with her abilities as a physician. The way she was fun, without being silly was good for David. Whenever he started to feel anxious or stressed, Lucy always had a way to pull him out of his own head and get him to relax.

  If only Lucy could get him to stop stressing about his dating life.

  He rounded the corner just past the nurse’s station and nearly ran into Lucy. “Hey,” she said, looking up from her phone. “Where have you been?”

  “Showering,” David said.

  Her eyes went wide. “Oh, no. You were in triage for the vomit explosion?”

  David frowned. “It wasn’t just vomit.”

  “Food poisoning, right? An isolated incident?”

  “So far.”

  Lucy held up an open bag of iced animal cookies. “You deserve a cookie. Want one?”

  David reached into the bag, suddenly wondering how long it had been since he’d eaten. He glanced at his watch. It was almost six and he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He grabbed a few more cookies.

  “So,” Lucy said, in between bites. “I talked to Haley about going out sometime. She’s totally willing.”

  David groaned. “Wait, you already did?”

  Lucy shot him a look. “Of course I did. Why are you annoyed that I did exactly what you told me to do?”

  “I’m not annoyed, I’m just . . . worn out.”

  “Worn out from what? Work? That’s exactly why you need to go on a date.” Lucy shook the bag, loosening the cookies that had fused together at the bottom. “Seriously. I’ve never tasted anything this delicious.”

  She held the bag open to David and he helped himself to another handful. “It’s amazing how quickly hunger can lower your standards,” he said. After a few more cookies, he steered the conversation back to dating. “I did go on a date, if you must know,” he said. “Last week. Avery set me up with a friend from work.”

 
“Wait. You asked Avery to set you up with someone? Isn’t that a little . . . masochistic?”

  “No. Why would it be?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re in love with Avery and dating her friend guarantees that you’ll always be around her?”

  David froze, his hand suspended over the cookie bag. His brain kept tripping on Lucy’s use of the word love. It felt right. Terrifying, but right. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “How did it go?”

  “Terrible,” David said. “No, not terrible. It was fine. But I didn’t get the sense that she was all that impressed with me.”

  “And?” Lucy shook out the last cookies, dividing them equally between them. She folded up the now empty bag and tucked it under her arm.

  “What do you mean, and?” David said. “Isn’t that enough of a reason for us not to have a second date?”

  “What did you think of her?”

  David shrugged. “She was . . . fine. Just not—”

  “If you say Avery, I’m going to punch you in the face.” A nurse came around the corner, stopping when she saw Lucy and David standing together. “Exam Two, doctor,” she said to Lucy.

  Lucy moved to follow the nurse, David falling into step beside her. “That isn’t what I was going to say.”

  Lucy shot him a look over her shoulder.

  “Fine,” David said with a sigh. “She wasn’t Avery. But I don’t know how to stop my brain from making the comparison. It feels like an involuntary reaction.”

  Lucy paused outside Exam Two and turned to face him, her hands on her hips. “Then do something about it. Say something to her.”

  David slouched against the wall. “I can’t.” He forced a breath out through his nose. “When I got home Saturday morning, Tucker was at Avery’s house. Avery told me nothing happened, that it wasn’t what it looked like, but Tucker made it seem like things definitely happened.”

  Lucy pressed her hands against her head, frustration, or maybe just exasperation, evident on her face. “All the more reason for you to move on then. She’s clearly not into you.” She turned to leave, then looked back at David. “Wait, you talked to Tucker?”