by Cindi Madsen
Tucker moved closer, putting himself between Addie and the guy’s line of sight, barely resisting the urge to glare at him.
Addie did a double take when she glanced his way, and she flashed him a quick smile and waved before returning her focus to the game.
Take that, chump. She waved at me.
Unfortunately, the dude didn’t seem deterred. He just shifted left so he could continue ogling Addie as she coached the rest of the game.
She really was an amazing coach, one they could’ve used when they were kids—good thing she’d just jumped in and took over the position anyway.
Her team won by two, and since his attention was on the celebration in the center of the field, he didn’t notice Uncertainty’s gossip queen approaching until she was right on him.
“Tucker Crawford,” Lottie said, practically rubbing her hands together. “I heard you were back.”
“Looks like some things never change—word travels as fast as ever.”
“Even faster with wifi hot spots and everyone and their smartphones.” It sounded more like a threat than a fact. “So that big-city law firm didn’t work out?”
“Nope.” Remaining vague meant more digging, but Lottie was one of the main women who’d blathered nonstop about his parents when they were going through their divorce. She’d also implied that Mom had moved on before the split, and the women had turned on his mom just like that.
The last thing he would do was give Lottie any morsels to stretch and spread. He planned on keeping mum to everyone except his closest friends till he got his shit together.
Until then, let the town talk. He didn’t care.
Tucker noticed the guy who’d been checking out Addie the entire time had stayed on the sidelines, his gaze still following her too closely. For once the fact that Lottie stuck her nose in everyone’s business might actually come in handy. “Who’s the new guy?”
“You are now,” Lottie said, and he shot her a look. “That’s the new dentist, David Nelson. Moved into town a couple months ago with his brother and fixed up the old practice. Nice guy.”
The information tickled something in his memory, and after a couple of seconds, he put together why. Addie’s grandma had mentioned “the dentist.”
“His niece is on the team, and since her father is recently widowed, he helps out. Oh, and he and Addison went on a date a few weeks back.”
Of course they did.
While he might be too late to warn her the dude was a tool before she went out with him, he’d definitely be keeping a close eye on him.
Seriously, she had the worst taste in guys. Since the dentist was apparently so damn nice, it made it a bit harder to play dirty—not that he was going to do that or there was any reason to.
Yet.
The expression Lottie aimed his way held a hint of glee, making him worry his feelings were on display. “So, are you plannin’ to open a law firm here or just look for jobs nearby? Exactly how long do you plan on being in town?”
“Long enough,” he said, and Lottie opened her mouth, but then Addie showed up next to him.
“Hey, I really need to talk to you. Right before the game, Lottie was pointing out how close we are, so I know she’ll understand if I steal you away.”
Addie clamped on to his arm and tugged him away, and he happily went.
“You saved me.”
“Someone’s gotta do it. Unfortunately, you weren’t around when I needed savin’ from her earlier. She had her lackeys with her, too.” Addie gave a mock shudder.
He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “Sorry about that. I’m tryin’ to fix it, I swear.”
The corner of her mouth kicked up, but before she could say anything, the dentist came over, hand in hand with his niece—anyway, Tucker assumed.
“Thanks again, Addison.”
Addison. Tucker hated the way he used her name, way too intimate.
And last he knew, she never went by her full name. Her mother and the older ladies in town were the only ones who used it, and they wielded it almost like a weapon to remind her that she was a girl.
“Of course. Great game, Sara. That fake you pulled off before scoring that final goal was amazing.” Addie held out her hand for a high five and Sara slapped it, a toothy grin spreading across her face.
When the dentist drifted closer to Addie, Tucker planted his hand on her lower back. He’d done it on impulse, and Addie glanced at him.
“Oh, I’m forgettin’ my manners. Tucker, David, the new dentist. David, Tucker Crawford. He and I went to high school together, and he just moved back into town, although if any of the gossips ask, I don’t know for how long, and even if I did, they’d have to pry it from me.”
David laughed, and Tucker wanted to, but he was too busy being annoyed at the way the dentist was still looking at his Addie. It was all lust-fueled fake charm, and it reminded him of the guy she’d dated senior year. The one who’d broken her heart.
It was one of the few times he’d ever seen her cry, and he’d felt totally helpless.
Forget being above playing dirty.
People needed to learn that the real world could be tough, small town or not. Especially if that person was trying to take advantage of his best friend.
“I’m sticking around for a while,” Tucker said, nice and firm, for both their sakes.
Sara tugged on her uncle’s arm—she could tug a little harder in Tucker’s opinion—and at long last, he started away from them. But not before shooting Addie one more smile and saying, “I’ll call you so we can set up a time for Saturday night.”
Addie’s cheeks colored, more embarrassment than attraction, he hoped, but he couldn’t tell.
He used to be able to read her better, and he hated that he’d lost the key somewhere along the way.
Finally, most everyone had cleared the field, the fold-up chairs and blankets gone from the sidelines. Tucker helped Addie gather the supplies and put them in the back of her truck.
She glanced up at him, shook her head, and then tapped the bill of his hat. “Seriously, that thing needs to be put out of its misery.”
“I’ll give it up just as soon as you give up your Falcons sweatshirt.”
“You’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers. I’d put it on just to spite you if it wasn’t so freaking hot this afternoon.”
He sort of wished she would.
The bulky hoodie helped her stay in the ambiguous category she belonged in. Probably wouldn’t cover those legs, though.
Stop thinking about her legs.
He pulled a soccer ball out of the bag and bounced it on his knee. “Have time for a quick game?” He bounced it on his knee again, and she swiped it out of the air.
That challenging gleam lit her eyes, the familiar one that meant they were about to have a whole lot of fun. “Against the guy who’s sat in an office the past few years getting soft and out of shape? Hell, yeah.”
Maybe he hadn’t lost the key after all.
Chapter Five
“This is so, so much cheatin’!” Addie kicked her feet, but since Tucker had lifted her off the ground, it didn’t propel her toward the goal, and the ball was out of reach as well.
“You called me soft,” he said, kicking at the ball and nearly dropping her.
She clung on to the forearm clamped around her midsection, and between the muscles there and the firm planes of his chest pressing against her back, there was no softness to be found.
“Okay, so you’re not soft, just a giant cheater.” She elbowed him in the gut, satisfied at the grunt he let out.
His arm loosened a mere fraction, enough for her to duck out of his grip and kick the ball. She raced for the goal, her heartbeats right on top of each other, and went to kick it home.
Dang Tucker got in the way—he was even faster than she
remembered—and they devolved into a shoving and tripping match that would have any ref calling them for fouls, and possibly even tossing them out for misconduct.
Using every ounce of strength she had, she shoved him again and kicked the ball. He dove to block, and she dove on top of him to block his block. They hit the grass hard, a pile of tangled limbs.
She groaned. “This didn’t hurt as much when we were kids.”
“Who’s soft now?” he asked, but his ragged breaths made it clear he was as tired as she was.
She noticed the ball had landed just short of the goal line and, not one to lose, she launched herself over Tucker’s prone form and bumped it with her fist.
Tucker wrapped his hand around her upper arm, but he was too late.
The ball rolled over the white line and she let out a whoop of victory.
Now that she’d scored, her exhaustion hit her all at once, and she let her body go limp.
For two whole seconds before realizing she was straddling Tucker’s chest and his face was buried between her boobs.
Face flaming, she quickly rolled off him, glad the setting sun left them in semi-darkness. She waited to see if he’d comment—hoping he wouldn’t.
Even though he’d been the first guy close to her boobs in a very, very long time.
Let’s not go down another embarrassing path just to get away from this one.
Besides, she had date number two with the dentist, which she supposed meant she should start referring to him by name, and fingers crossed, maybe her dry spell would end. Oh holy crap, it’s been so long, I think I’ve forgotten how to even be intimate with a man.
Not that she’d ever really rocked at relationships and everything they entailed.
Her awkwardness surged forward on dates, all the unsolicited advice she’d received through the years choosing then to mess with her head.
She wasn’t a total novice, though. Just out of practice.
After what seemed like a blink of an eye and forever, Tucker shifted to his side and propped his head on his fist. “I’d like to challenge you to a rematch, but I think I need a week or so to recover.”
“How handy for me. I just so happen to be here every week.”
“Because you coach soccer. How didn’t I know that?”
“I guess it doesn’t come up a lot in conversation, ’specially since we haven’t had much chance for that lately. I love it, though.”
“You’re good at it.”
“Thanks.” She rolled onto her side to face him. “So, you’re back in town, for quote, a while. Care to give me more details? I promise to keep them close to the chest”—a weird beat passed as she remembered how close he’d recently been to her chest and she quickly plowed on with the rest of her sentence—“I mean, I won’t reveal them to anyone. Even if Lottie employs waterboarding. I’ve got a cyanide capsule in a false tooth and everything.”
“Wow. That’s a lot of dedication to information she’ll just pry out of someone else.”
Addie shrugged. “I’d rather go out honorably than rat out my friends.”
Tucker sat up and raked a hand through his hair, sending a couple of the waves off in different directions. “It’ll be longer than a while, actually. I needed a break from the lawyer thing, and I’m not plannin’ on going back.”
“Rumor has it you were fired.” She doubted it was true but withheld saying so in case it ended up being accurate.
He laughed, the sound on the mirthless side. “I’m sure they think that. Screwup Crawford couldn’t make it in the big city.” He ran his fingers along his jaw. “Maybe they were right about that, but I wasn’t fired. I quit. The crazy hours and the fact that my job consumed my entire life just didn’t seem worth it anymore.”
Addie pushed to a seated position and scratched the spot on her leg the grass kept tickling. “I could see that. Honestly, it always was hard for me to picture you behind a desk.”
“Trust me, I made it work.”
Sputtered laughter escaped her lips. “Humility was never one of your crosses to bear.”
His grin widened and then faded a little as his blue eyes met hers. “I also hated that my job made me a liar so often.”
She tucked up a knee and looped her arms over it. “Probably a might shortsighted on your part,” she teased, “considering all those liar/lawyer jokes.”
Tucker pinched her side, and a strange tug pulled in her gut, throwing her off for a second.
A fraction of a second, really.
“I mean how it made me a liar when I told you I could make it home for things,” he clarified. “Or that I’d call.”
“I get it,” she said, shrugging it off, the way she’d tried to when it’d happened and disappointment set in.
“You shouldn’t have to get it.”
The two years they’d spent apart melted away, and just like that, things realigned. It was as if something she hadn’t even realized was broken was fixed.
The rest of the guys would drop whatever they were doing if she needed help, but it never went as smoothly as when she turned to Tucker and he somehow knew exactly what to say. Or what to do to take her mind off everything.
Back in high school, she’d often been left behind in the name of pursuing girls, and while Tucker had done plenty of that—and a fair amount pursued him, too—he’d always made sure she wasn’t stranded after a ball game or at a party.
Still, she’d missed out on a few big things like senior prom. Her boys had dates, and thanks to always hanging out with them, she hadn’t made other friends and had recently broken up with her boyfriend at the time.
Occasionally she regretted missing out on rites of passage, dress-wearing and heels, notwithstanding.
But that was neither here nor there.
A truck with a growly engine approached, and she recognized the black Dodge Ram with its massive grill, roll bar, and lights. Ford was ridiculously proud of his “badass truck,” but considering he was a firefighter who pulled double duty on the Talladega Search and Rescue team, it was also a necessity.
Where most people ran from trouble, he ran toward it.
Ford opened the door and stood on the frame. “There you guys are. Remember how we’re supposed to meet Shep and his fiancée at the Old Firehouse ten minutes ago to watch the game?”
“Oh, shit.” Addie looked for her phone so she could check the time, but it was tucked into her duffel bag in her truck. Once Tucker had issued the soccer challenge, she’d forgotten about everything else.
The light bulb over Tucker’s head remained unlit. “We had plans to watch the game with them?”
“Well, the rest of us did. You would’ve gotten an invite had we known you were moving back.”
“Good, because watching football without you guys isn’t nearly as fun.” He hopped to his feet and extended a hand.
Addie finger-combed her ponytail, trying to dislodge as much grass as she could. “Crap, do I look okay?”
It popped out before she’d thought better of it. Years of being told she needed to look and act more like a girl if she ever wanted to snag a man, and the brainwashing had chosen now of all times to kick in.
“Never mind. We’re just going to the bar, duh.”
She wasn’t sure what to make of Tucker’s crooked grin. “You look great,” he said, and it warmed her from the inside out, even though she told herself she’d asked, and he’d simply answered a question. The “you look like you,” he added left her wondering what exactly that meant.
Of course she looked like herself.
When she caught her reflection in the window of Ford’s truck, she decided that for all Tucker’s talk about not liking having to lie, he was a big fat liar. The last word she’d use to describe the girl in the reflection with the grass-stained clothes and lopsided ponytail was “great.”
Not that she cared.
She used to not care.
She’d always been comfortable with who she was, but lately she didn’t feel feminine enough, or attractive enough, or a whole mess of other things she didn’t want to examine.
And she couldn’t help noticing that while she looked like a dirty mess, Tucker looked sporty and sexily disheveled.
Guys took so little effort, which was supremely unfair.
Lately she’d had to deal with the possibility of seeing the dentist everywhere, which made her feel even more self-conscious. She wasn’t even sure how she felt about David besides the general hallelujah, a single man her age actually moved into Uncertainty, and this might be her only chance to date in who knows how long.
No pressure or anything.
It’d sure be nice to fill my life with more than long days at work where my boss slowly drives me insane, followed by quiet nights spent mostly alone, only to get up and head to work again.
The plastic of the bench seat gripped her thighs as she scooted to the middle, Ford on one side, Tucker on the other. She used to complain about always having to sit bitch, but at one point, they grew taller and filled out, and then she was the only one who fit in the middle, so she dealt with it.
“Dude, it smells like ass in here,” Tucker said.
“Piece of ass, actually,” Ford replied. “You probably don’t recognize it, because of your lack of game. I can give you some tips if you’d like.”
“Like I need tips from a guy who thought it’d be romantic to take the hottest girl in school hunting for nightcrawlers.”
Ford shifted the truck into reverse. “That was just the excuse to get Daisy Price out under the stars. Course, I was goin’ fishin’ the next day, so I call it a fine bit of multitasking.”
Back in the day, Addie had to hear how hot Daisy Price was so often that the name still made her eye twitch.
They’d all made stupid bets about who’d get her to go out with him first and then attempted to sabotage one another.
“And I got to second base before the can of dirt fell over and the worms wiggled out and into her shorts,” Ford continued. “I also got to fish ’em out while she was screaming my name—see, that’s what women do when they’re satisfied.”