by Cindi Madsen
And experienced that very same sense of helplessness they’d talked about earlier as he watched her drive away.
Chapter Ten
First thing Monday morning, after grabbing her usual cup of coffee on her way to work, Addie spotted Shep a few yards down the sidewalk, probably headed toward the school, and quickened her pace to catch up with him. “Hey.”
He glanced at her, and panic bound her lungs at the resigned look on his face. “Hey,” he said, but what she heard was that he couldn’t hang out with her anymore and she was disinvited to the wedding.
The image of Lexi and her bridesmaids coming after her with pitchforks even flashed through her mind, unlikely as it may be.
Addie swallowed past the lump in her throat. “She’s still mad.”
“Not mad exactly. She’s…” His sigh weighed about a hundred pounds. “Emotions are just high and planning a wedding is stressful, and…hopefully after the ceremony and reception are over and done with, we can get back to being us.”
With that, he continued down the path that led them both to their jobs, and she stayed by his side, the silence heavier than their usual companionable type.
While Addie had been focusing on all the happy parts of a relationship she was missing as of late, it made her wonder if people truly did get back to just being them. Or did the pressures of life make it so there was always something in the way?
Her parents were happily married, but she’d also seen the toll caring for Nonna Lucia took on them. As easy as she could be most days, she could also be high maintenance and ornery as a polecat, and once her mind was made up, that was it—a la, planting flowers in the neighbor’s yard.
Alexandria and Eli appeared to be the perfect couple, and while Addie knew they still loved each other, between a few years of babies and his nonstop work schedule, she’d also witnessed plenty of fights where they blamed each other for why things weren’t as good as they used to be.
Shep and Lexi were ridiculously cute and in love, and yet the tension wafted off him in waves.
Extra stressors, like two sets of families in the mix, bills, how exactly to raise the kids, health insurance, mortgage payments, and a whole slew of other stuff added up so quickly.
The mere idea of balancing all that with someone else made Addie’s skin tighten, and suddenly a touch of the shine got worn off the idea of settling down.
Part of that might also be because her date on Saturday night hadn’t exactly turned out the way she wanted to—thanks for that, Crawford.
Without bothering with conversation, David had started a movie and opened a bottle of uppity wine that was supposedly super fancy and expensive but tasted like where she assumed that sour-grapes saying came from.
A few minutes in, his hands began roaming, and all she could think was that she was his booty call, when hello, maybe it was her sexy underwear putting out the vibe.
Again, thanks, Tucker Crawford.
And another thanks to him that when David wrapped his arm around her shoulders, instead of feeling a flicker of interest, she thought of how much better she’d felt with Tucker’s strong arm around her as he’d talked her down.
She couldn’t stop replaying the way he’d stalked toward her in the cabin of the houseboat, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen them. Tingles had broken out across her entire body, which had clearly gotten the wrong signal.
Then he’d delivered that last line, the one that’d kept replaying in her head: You deserve better.
Her heart had squeezed when he’d said it. In a way it was nice, and yet it’d still hurt like hell.
With her thoughts so messed up, she could only get halfway through the movie before making an excuse about being too tired and heading home—thank goodness she could only choke down two sips of that awful wine so she was able to drive.
And that’s enough thinking about my messy love life.
She refocused on Shep, who’d kept striding in a bit of a daze, and what she could do to help. “I’m sorry things are so stressful right now. I’ll bow out of the wedding if I need to.”
He came to a full stop, the distraction in his features fading as he turned to face her. “You’re in the wedding, Addie. It’s my fault that I never told her you and I had dated, not yours. Since she’d already had trouble believing we were such close friends, I just didn’t want to get into it, so I purposely glazed over the whole thing.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It was more than a decade ago, for hell’s sake.”
“Right. It was nothing.”
He cocked his head. “I wouldn’t say that. I moved into this town, pissed that it was so small and that my parents had relocated us, and you made the transition so much easier. Then you introduced me to the guys, and my life got better than it’d ever been. Most people don’t have friendships like that, ones that withstand high school and college and marri—well, guess we’ll see about the marriage.”
The words slammed into her chest, radiating pain, and she understood Tucker’s frustration over losing cases no matter what he did, because this felt like a case she couldn’t win, regardless of how much she argued.
“I feel so lucky to have you guys, too,” she said. “You’ve always had my back, and words can’t express how much I appreciate that. But I don’t wanna get in the way. I like Lexi. You two make each other happy—I’ve never seen you so happy.”
If she needed to step aside to keep that going, she could do it.
Shep reached out like he was going to grip her shoulder, something he’d done hundreds of times, but then he glanced around and seemed to realize this interaction could be reported to his bride-to-be and dropped his hand. “She’s coming into town later today so we can get the cake squared away.”
AKA, don’t go near Maisy’s Bakery this afternoon.
He probably didn’t mean it that way, but she made a mental note anyhow. The last thing she wanted was to make a scene and become the talk of the town.
Maybe I should go buy a cupcake now. I suddenly feel the need for one. Plus, like, a dozen doughnuts.
“Hey, I can see your shoulders slumping, and I know this girl who’d kick your ass if we were playing ball and I tried to pull that defeatist attitude.” Shep chucked her chin, and she had to work for it but managed to prop a smile on her lips. “I’ll talk to her. It’ll be okay.”
As much as she appreciated his trying to make her feel better, Addie had played poker enough with him to know that he wasn’t 100 percent sure about putting money on that bet.
Which reminded her…
She dug into her bag and pulled out the envelope of cash from the other night’s poker game. “Lexi should at least get her winnings.”
“I’m sure she’d tell you not to worry about it.”
“But I want her to have it, and I wrote her a note, and maybe it’s lame, but can you just give it to her anyway? Please?”
“Of course.” He took the envelope but seemed to be looking more through it than at it. “Sometimes I think we should just elope. Forget cakes and decorations and the money and tryin’ to keep two families happy. It’s all getting in the way of us.”
Weddings were always talked about as these joyous occasions, and while Addie had seen Lexi’s anxiety-inducing to-do list, she clearly had no clue what all planning a ceremony and reception entailed.
So she resolved to keep working on the items she could. She’d take her gazebo measurements and find someone who knew about decorating with tulle, and even if Lexi didn’t want her in the wedding, she could ensure the gazebo looked like the best damn altar either side of the Mississippi.
…
The end of the leash zipped right out of Tucker’s hand as he caught sight of Addie up on a giant ladder Wednesday afternoon, yards of gauzy white fabric in hand, a string of lights draped over her like rope on a mountain climber. His puppy ran for her, and when he jumpe
d up on the legs of the ladder, Tucker lunged forward to steady it.
“Sorry,” he called as Addie dropped the fabric and gripped on to the nearest support beam. “He’s stronger than he looks. Come ’ere, boy.”
He made kissy noises that the puppy ignored in favor of circling the floor of the gazebo, sliding around like it was an ice skating rink. Tucker dove for the leash but accidentally bumped the ladder and sent it wobbling again, so he decided to let his dog run wild until Addie was safely on the ground.
“You really should have a spotting partner to hold this steady,” he joked.
The metal creaked as Addie descended the ladder, and since he’d gripped both legs to brace it, her ass was suddenly in front of his face and he no longer remembered what he’d been saying. Yoga pants today, and they didn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination.
Though he still let his run wild.
“Before you two showed up, my ladder was doin’ just fine.” As soon as her feet hit the ground, she spun to face him, and he knew he should drop his hands and step back.
Instead he inhaled her fruity shampoo and took a moment to soak in having her caged in his arms.
“What on earth are you doing up there anyway? Did someone hear you were helping with wedding planning and make you the official town decorator?” He lowered his eyebrows. “And what festival have I forgotten about?”
He started running through them in his mind. He’d missed the barbecue festival—his favorite of the festivals, although he now stayed far away from the deviled eggs.
The scarecrow one wouldn’t be for another month.
Football fest happened during homecoming week, and again if the high school and/or Auburn made playoffs, and then the Bama holdouts would come out and things would get rowdy.
And Winter Festival was even further away, although that was what the fluffy white fabric and lights brought to mind. Since they only had a smattering of snowflakes once in a blue moon, they had to manufacture their own.
“That’s what tulle looks like, in case you were wonderin’, and this is supposed to be a test run for the wedding I might no longer be a part of.” Addie hiked the string of lights higher on her shoulder. “And if you tell people I’m the town decorator, I’ll have no choice but to punch you in the face or kick you in the balls.”
She raised an eyebrow and hitched her knee a few inches.
“Dealer’s choice.”
His blood heated even as the now-threatened body part shriveled at the thought. He tried to focus on what else she’d said. “Things still rough with Lexi?”
She shrugged. “I haven’t spoken to her since poker night. I talked to Shep on Monday and gave him her winnings, along with this stupid note, but she hasn’t called. Now I’m trying to figure out how much tulle she needs as some sort of twisted peace offering. I think I’d rather go the pipe-smoking route, but this is about her, so…” Her hand came over the center of his chest, and his heart kicked up its speed in response. “Um, Tucker? Are you gonna let me leave the ladder anytime soon?”
“And give you room to follow through on your threats? No way.”
He’d tried to get some space from her over the past few days. He’d worked nonstop on his boat and had even texted Brittany to prove he wasn’t hung up on Addie and absolutely did not care about how her date with the dentist went.
He’d foolishly hoped a little distance would snuff out the spark of desire that’d ignited Saturday night, but there it was again.
Igniting, spreading. Until his whole body blazed with its warmth.
A bark broke the spell, and then the cloudy fabric at their feet went flying as his puppy clamped on to it and bounded down the steps of the gazebo.
“Oh, shit,” Addie yelled, stumbling after him and grasping for the edges of the material. “I told Lottie I just needed to borrow some tulle for a little while and promised I’d bring it back good as new. She’s gonna sic the Craft Cats on me.”
That news jolted Tucker into motion, and the two of them ran after the puppy, desperately trying to catch him before he managed to completely destroy the flimsy cloth.
Over the trail, slightly muddy from the recent rain. Across the grass. Underneath the benches—well, the puppy went under, they went over, and even with them circling around, it took forever to corner him.
Addie finally snagged one end, only when she tugged, his dog sank his teeth into it, ecstatic to play tug-of-war, the way he and Tucker did with his rope toy.
“Don’t rip it, don’t rip it,” Addie said, letting him have some slack but keeping her grip on the fabric.
Tucker approached the dog the way a cop might approach an armed-and-dangerous subject. He snapped his fingers. “Come ’ere, boy. I’ll give you a treat.”
With a growl, the puppy tugged, slowly backing under the bench, and Tucker dove, his sights set on the end of the leash.
Finally, his fingers wrapped around the rope, and he reeled in his puppy, who was so happy from their game that he licked his face.
Tucker grimaced at Addie, who was holding the mangled ball that didn’t look quite as white as it had a few minutes ago. He gathered his dog to his chest and straightened. “How bad is it?”
“Um, it’s kinda green, and there’s a significant amount of mud. Maybe if I can slip it to my grandm—”
“Was that the fabric I lent you?” Lottie strode across the town square, nostrils flaring.
Damn her fabric shop for having that window facing the park. Not to mention her sixth sense that alerted her to everything happening in town.
“I should’ve known better. I told myself that you’d grown up, but add in this Crawford boy”—she swung an arm his way—“and there you go rollin’ in the mud again.”
His eyes met Addie’s over Lottie’s head, and then he had to fight back his laughter. He didn’t remember rolling in the mud with her.
He wasn’t totally opposed to the idea, though. “Sorry, Lottie. It’s my fault, and I’ll pay for the fabric. My puppy just got overexcited.”
He pointed the puppy at her, hoping the big eyes would soften her heart.
Lottie sighed but reached out a hand to pat his head. “What’s his name?”
Tucker had been working on it, and had even tried out a few monikers, but nothing fit.
As he glanced from the dog to Addie, it came to him—a bolt of inspiration, one might say. “His name is Flash.”
“Oh, is that because he’s so fast?”
Gaze locked on to Addie’s, he said, “Sure. One of the reasons anyway.”
She shook her head and lost her battle to hold back her smile, just like he lost his battle to prevent his brain from replaying the flashing incident.
Curiosity over what bra she had on today hijacked his thoughts, dragging them right into the gutter, a place he was perfectly happy to live for a while.
“Fine,” Lottie said. “He’s forgiven, but you owe me.”
Tucker juggled Flash to his other side so he could pull out his wallet. “How much?”
“Not money. My daughter’s getting divorced and she needs a good lawyer.”
“Oh, uh, that’s not really my thing. Even when I was practicing law, I didn’t deal with divorces.”
Lottie crossed her arms, and the canary-eating grin she flashed made him feel like he’d fallen into some sort of intricate trap. “Well, Tucker Crawford. Unless you can get me twenty yards of white tulle by the time I close up shop tonight, you’d better make it your thing.”
…
After getting Tucker’s phone number so her daughter could call him for legal counsel and one last disdainful look at Addie’s muddy clothes, Lottie carried her grass-stained wad of fabric back to her craft store.
The whole thing made Addie feel like a kid who’d been reprimanded, but at the same time, it’d been the highlight of the past few day
s.
She wasn’t sure if that was sad or not, but there it was anyway.
She scratched the top of the puppy’s head. “Flash, huh?”
Tucker didn’t even bother acting ashamed. “What can I say? It just fits.”
As if she needed a reminder of that embarrassing flashing incident. Which was why she was back to her plain T-shirt and yoga pants wardrobe.
Her job meant helping people repair and retrain their muscles, and often included a lot of bending and demonstrating stretches. Her sports bra kept the girls plastered in place and her panties fully covered her butt. Maybe she didn’t feel super sexy, but she did feel less exposed, not to mention more comfortable.
Tucker let Flash down to walk but kept tight hold of the leash as they headed toward the gazebo. “So, how’d the date with the dentist go? Or should I say late-night escapade?”
Her jaw dropped. “Dude. Not cool. Are you trying to start another fight?”
“I was trying to be the supportive friend who asks about your date,” he said.
She shot him a skeptical look, and he shrugged.
“Fine. I was stirring up trouble. Seems to be a habit I can’t break when it comes to you, a sentiment Lottie obviously shares.”
The joke at the end softened it, but things had felt off the past few days, and it was more than the unknown heaviness with Lexi. Addie had gone to text Tucker more than once and then hesitated because of their last heated interaction.
While they hadn’t argued a lot growing up—save football—when they did, gunpowder met flame rather quickly. “I just don’t want to fight.”
“Me neither,” he said, shoving his free hand into his pocket.
More and more, her thoughts drifted into territory they shouldn’t where Tucker was concerned. Even now she was fighting against noticing the way the muscles in his arms stood out, and her pulse quickened as she remembered the moment when he’d wrapped one around her and curled her to his firm chest.