Just One of the Groomsmen

by Cindi Madsen

  Shep grabbed his fiancée’s hand, his eyes imploring hers. “Honestly, babe. The main reason I even asked her out when I first moved into town was because we had so much in common. Like football and cars, and like I’ve always told you, she’s just one of the guys.”

  “He didn’t know any better,” Tucker said. “He’d never played T-ball with her. I still have flashbacks of the day she got so mad at me that she picked up the nearby bat and chucked it at my head.”

  He raised a hand to the side of his face, like he might need to block her now, and he wasn’t totally off base.

  “I only threatened you with it, you big baby, and that was because you told me I should play right field, where the ball never goes, just so that you could catch a pop fly for once. Not my fault you were too damn slow.”

  “See,” Tucker said, gesturing to her. “He didn’t know that she’d just as easily maim you as kiss you.”

  Addie scowled, and while Lexi had seemed to be thawing the tiniest bit, the “kiss you” part made her withdraw her hand from Shep’s.

  “Awful kissing, really,” Shep said, panic flooding his features. “Awkward enough we stopped a good month before we officially broke up and transitioned to being friends, which, again, fit us so much better.”

  A twinge went through Addie’s chest, his words hurting more than she wished they did, in spite of knowing he’d said them to get them both out of this tense situation.

  Chair legs scraped the floor as Lexi pushed away from the table. “I just…” Tears bordered her eyes. “I need to go.”

  She headed toward the door, and Shep nearly knocked over the table when he jumped up to go after her.

  And Addie just sat there, an awful pit in her gut as she kissed the idea of actually being friends with Shep’s fiancée goodbye.

  Chapter Nine

  Tucker finished throwing the bottles in the recycling and waited for his rambunctious puppy to finish doing his business. Then he scooped up the furball and thought way too much about how his dog had pulled down Addie’s shirt and caused an accidental peep show.

  Tucker’s heart thumped hard in his chest as he replayed the flash of her sexy black bra and how she’d nearly been spilling out of it.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Or the way she’d blushed.

  As he’d been trying to reiterate Shep’s point about Addie being just one of the guys, he’d told himself he needed to go back to that way of thinking.

  But she was more than that—one of his very best friends, for one—and right now she was hurting.

  His footsteps echoed through the quiet as he crossed the wooden deck to where Addie sat, legs dangling over the side. He lowered himself next to her. “Hey.”

  She glanced at him.

  Shep had taken off after his girl, and Easton and Ford said they had to get up early so they took off, too.

  Obviously none of them knew how to undo what’d happened. Why the hell hadn’t Shep warned Lexi that he’d dated Addie?

  Then again, it’d been eons ago, and Tucker knew as well as anyone that being friends with her brought plenty of complications to relationships.

  “I’m fine,” she said, a little too quickly, her words short and pinched. “It’s just that she and I sorta bonded, which doesn’t happen very often when it comes to you guys’ girlfriends, and—” Her voice cracked, and her tough facade crumbled along with it. “Oh shit, now I’m gonna cry and die twice.”

  Tucker cautiously wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and when she didn’t shove him off, the way she’d done a few times back in the day when he’d dared to console her, he curled her closer. “Don’t worry. I’ll take it to the grave.”

  “I’m not sure I can chance that. I might have to push you off the back of the boat now.”

  “Sure. If I didn’t know how to swim, that’d be a fail-safe plan.”

  “Maybe the gators will get to you first,” she quipped, only then she tucked her feet up, like she’d remembered there might be a few of the toothy beasts slumbering in the water, despite the fact that they rarely saw any on this side of the shore.

  She swiped a tear off her cheek and sniffed.

  “I hate feeling weak. Hate feeling like a girl. Even though I’m apparently not one.”

  “You’re not weak. I’ve seen grown men cry in my office, so I don’t think it’s a girl or guy thing.”

  “I notice you didn’t admit to crying yourself.”

  He puffed out his chest. “Well, that’s because I’m far too macho.”

  The last few times he’d gotten choked up had been over his dog having to be put down, his grandfather passing away, and—even though he’d done his damnedest to hide it—the day he’d said goodbye to his friends before leaving town.

  The girl at his side was there for all those instances, but his conflicting feelings for her made it hard to admit to ever being anything but strong.

  Like not saying it aloud would make her forget bike wrecks and scraped knees that’d brought tears, the times in his life he hadn’t stood up for other people when he should’ve, or any other time he’d been less than strong.

  Just do it, Crawford. Find a way to make her feel better, the way she always did for you.

  “There were cases, ones where I was fighting for a worthy cause or for someone who truly deserved a break, and it didn’t matter how much research I put in or how hard I fought, I’d still lose ’em. That made me feel weak and helpless.” Those cases were why he’d originally chosen law, but they’d been so few and far between. “So did the cases where we had to defend people knowing full well they were guilty.”

  He gazed out over the lake, unable to look at her as he admitted the next part.

  “I missed home and all you guys, but I quit over more than that, and more than the long hours.” His fingers drifted down her arm, and her face tipped up, but he kept his eyes on the rippling reflection of the moon in the inky black water. “One guy walked on a stupid technicality because of something I’d found in the police report—some procedure the cop didn’t follow. Everyone at the firm was celebrating, and I was sick over it. The guy deserved to go to jail, and no amount of money seemed worth ignoring that fact. It was the final straw.”

  Addie covered the hand he had on her arm with hers. “Most people wouldn’t have been able to walk away from the money.”

  “I don’t know about that. Half the time I still think I was an idiot to quit like that with no backup.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad you’re here.”

  He met her big brown eyes and smiled. “It does.”

  “I’m sorry you were so unhappy. I should’ve checked in more.”

  “I should’ve told you that I was struggling with my job. But that’s neither here nor there. Now I’m on a different path, and all’s I’m saying is, it’s not weak to care about things. You’re not a robot.”

  He renewed the drag of his fingers on her arm, and her chin lifted another inch or so, some of the sorrow fading from her features.

  He tried not to think about how close her lips were to his, how he felt each one of his heartbeats, and how having her tucked against him made his entire body hum.

  Despite knowing better, he couldn’t help the words that slipped out or that his eyes dipped when he said them. “It also hasn’t escaped my notice that you’re a girl.”

  One corner of her mouth kicked up, even as pink spread across her cheeks. “I guess I can thank your puppy for that.”

  “I certainly plan on thanking him.”

  Addie half laughed, half groaned and dropped her head on his shoulder. After a long moment, she leaned back, his arm falling from her shoulders, and braced against her palms.

  He didn’t know how to interpret that, and he hated that he was now analyzing this easy thing between them.

  The full moon lit
her features, highlighting just how pretty she was. Growing up with her had left him so used to how she looked that he’d somehow forgotten.

  Or maybe he hadn’t ever truly noticed, which was just stupid on his part.

  She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’m afraid that Lexi is gonna kick me out of the wedding party, and not that I was dyin’ to wear a dress, per se, but I’d come to terms with it, and what if she doesn’t let me go to the wedding now?”

  “I’m sure she just needs time to process,” Tucker said. “I was trying to help in there, but I’m not sure it worked.”

  She shrugged.

  “It couldn’t have been easy being the only girl in our group sometimes.”

  “Actually, that was the easy part. Navigating it as an adult with all the added complications is what’s hard.”

  One side of her shirt slipped down a few inches, and he told himself not to stare at her exposed black bra strap. Right now he was understanding added complications all too well.

  “What about for you?” she asked. “Was it hard growing up with a girl as a friend?”

  He gave her shoulder a shove to keep things going down the normal path. “Only when she tried to throw a bat at my head so I wouldn’t have a chance at catching the ball.”

  “I did have a bit of a temper,” she said with a laugh.

  “Did? Past tense?”

  She jabbed a finger at him. “You know what?”

  Before she could finish, her phone rang. She whipped it out of her pocket, and a storm of emotions flickered across her face.

  “I hoped it’d be Shep, calling to say he’d smoothed things over with Lexi, but it’s David.”

  “David?”

  “The dentist—you met him at the soccer game, remember? We were supposed to go out tonight, but something must’ve come up.” Addie answered the phone and then said, “No, it’s not too late to call.” Pause. “Oh. Come over right now?”

  She glanced at Tucker and then pushed to her feet. He curled his fingers around the deck railing so he wouldn’t do something crazy like grab her phone and toss it in the water.

  Yep, he was definitely losing it.

  As much as he wanted to hear what they were saying, he also didn’t want to know. Because he remembered the smarmy dentist all too well.

  He pulled out his own phone to check the time, frowning when he saw it was nearly ten o’clock. A call this late was booty call territory, for sure.

  She had to realize that.

  Maybe that was their arrangement, and the thought of that sent a toxic burning through his gut.

  Not jealousy, his brain tried to claim.

  And even if it was, only because they’d finally had time to talk, and he didn’t want her to leave yet. The more he thought about it, though, the more heat pulsed in his veins.

  The guy thought he could stand her up and then call her at ten o’clock and have the end part of the date?

  She stepped back out on the deck. “Hey, I’m gonna take off.”

  “To hang out with the dentist?” he asked, unable to hold it back.

  She sighed, so she’d clearly caught the sharpness in his tone—it’d just sort of slipped out.

  “Getting his dental practice up and running has taken a lot of time, and he helps his brother out with his niece a lot as well. They took her to a carnival in Montgomery today, and they got caught up for longer than expected, so he got into town a few minutes ago.”

  “And he barely got cell service? That’s odd. Usually signal’s better outside of Uncertainty.”

  She spun around in a huff and charged back into the houseboat, so he quickly pushed to his feet and followed her inside the cabin.

  For some reason, she started angrily throwing all the beer bottles away, each clank of glass accentuating how pissed she was, but since she wasn’t charging out the front door, he didn’t bother stopping her.

  She shoved the mostly empty bags of chips into a cupboard they didn’t belong in, then turned to face him and crossed her arms.

  “Okay, so he’s obviously not perfect, but he’s the only guy who’s asked me out in a while, and I’m fairly sure he at least thinks of me as a girl.” Her eyebrows scrunched together. “And I realize that makes it sound like my standards are super low, but…” She threw up her hands. “I don’t know why I’m even bothering to explain any of this to you. It’s none of your business.”

  He debated letting it go, but he couldn’t seem to.

  He moved closer and leaned a hip against the counter. “Addie, the guy’s a player. I could tell when I met him, and the fact that he didn’t bother calling to let you know he’d be late but now wants you to come running over at ten o’clock confirms it. Even if he’s not a player, he’s an inconsiderate asshole.”

  “Oh, big surprise, you don’t like him.” She advanced on him, an accusatory finger pointed at his chest. “You always rag on who I date—all you guys do.”

  True. But in their defense, the dudes she dated were never good enough, never truly appreciated how fucking cool she was, and they threw off numbers at poker night.

  They were almost too easy to scare away, too. I bet the guys and I could scare off the dentist, no problem.

  We’ll all just take turns stopping by to warn him he’d better take good care of our Addie, and that’ll be that.

  “Meanwhile,” she said, swinging her arms around for emphasis, “y’all go around dating airheaded Barbie dolls more often than not, and do I say anything about it?”

  “You constantly say stuff about it. You ask us why we can’t find girls with substance, or you throw out that Barbie insult or refer to them as vapid beauty queens. I can’t think of a single girl I’ve dated who you liked. Same goes for Shep, Easton, and Ford, so don’t act like this is something new.”

  “Whatever. That girl you dated in law school wasn’t too bad, and I really like Lexi, and look at how well that’s turned out.”

  “Well, admittedly, one of your boyfriends was actually pretty cool.”

  “Who?” she asked, and when he raised his eyebrows and gestured to the seat Shep had previously occupied, she scowled at him. “That doesn’t even count. It was freshman year, and considering what’s happened tonight because of it, I can’t believe you’d bring it up.”

  She tried to nudge him out of her way, but in these tight quarters, there was no out-of-the-way, so her body brushed his as she moved toward the door.

  Heat flared as the curves he’d gotten an eyeful of pressed against his chest, and he whipped up his arm and braced his hand on the opposite wall, barring her way. “I was just makin’ a point. I know how to tell when a guy’s a jerk or not.”

  “I guess you better find a mirror, then, so you can see a firsthand example,” she said, and then she ducked under his arm.

  He exhaled and scrubbed a hand over his face. She was driving him crazy.

  One minute they were having an amazing talk, and the next they were in a huge argument.

  This was what he got for letting his thoughts stray so far from where they needed to remain.

  She’s just one of the guys, she’s just one of the guys, she’s just…bending over to put her shoes on and flashing more cleavage.

  He took a step toward her as she straightened, and he must have had a scary gleam in his eye because she took a step back.

  Which only made him want to stalk forward, grab her, and kiss the hell out of her.

  He wanted to see if that fiery passion transferred over.

  Yep, that was the real problem.

  While he didn’t want some jerk to use her or hurt her, he also couldn’t stop thinking about her lips and how badly he wanted a taste of them. Suddenly he was jealous of one of his oldest friends.

  Tucker wished that instead of Shep, he’d been the one to kiss Addie a few times.

>   Only that would’ve ruined everything between them, and it had the potential to do so now.

  He wasn’t in any position to have a relationship, and if it screwed up their friendship, he’d never forgive himself. No one else was like Addie, and after not having nearly enough of her in his life the past few years, he knew exactly how empty life felt without her.

  A good friend would be okay with her dating whoever she wanted, and perhaps even tell her to go have fun getting lucky.

  The burning in his gut returned, and while the second part wouldn’t be happening, he smothered his ego and the desire making a mess of his insides and opened the door for her. “I’m sorry, Addes. It’s your business, and I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “You’re right, you shouldn’t have, no probably about it.”

  “I’ll let it drop after I say one more thing.” He leaned closer, close enough to take in the smattering of freckles across her nose that drew you right to her big brown eyes. “You deserve better.”

  She flinched, and he scolded himself for not leaving it at the apology.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, and thanks to his big mouth, he knew she wouldn’t be accepting a consoling hug from him anymore tonight. “That’s for me to decide.”

  He nodded and forced words through his clenched jaw. “You’re right.”

  Even if I hate it.

  Surprise flickered through her features. “Holy shit, I don’t think you’ve ever admitted I was right during one of our arguments before.”

  “Not making it any easier.”

  She gave a shrug that conveyed she thought he deserved to suffer at least a while longer. Little did she know how much he was suffering.

  She toed a groove in the wooden floor, her gaze focused on the motion. “I’m not sure how things got so… Yeah.”

  “Yeah,” he said, biting his tongue on everything else he wanted to say, which was anything that would keep her here with him longer. Then he shifted into strictly friends mode, walked her to her truck, wished her good night…