by Cindi Madsen
It’d been so comfortable there.
But then that gunpowder had gone off and poof, the sense of security and happy vibes disappeared.
It was a good reality check. Allowing attraction and neglected hormones to filter into the mix sent tensions that much higher. Fights snowballed easier; they had more devastating effects.
After what Shep had said about the stress between him and Lexi, Addie had been thinking a lot about the complications relationships brought and how much hard work went into keeping one strong. If she crossed lines with Tucker, they’d never again just be the kids who grew up together.
With Shep it was different, because they’d only shared a handful of kisses practically a lifetime ago. Horrible kisses, evidently. Not that they’d blown her away, but she was starting to get a complex about her wooing and kissing skills.
But the fact of the matter was, she and Shep had been different people back then, so unsure of who they were and their place in the world.
If she gave in to temptation, wrapped her arms around Tucker’s waist, and pressed her lips to his now, things would never be the same, whether he rejected her or kissed her back.
If he rejects me, I don’t know if I could face him again, and with things surrounding the wedding so rough right now, I really need him on my team.
He pressed his hand to her lower back, and she nearly forgot she’d just resolved not to feel anything beyond friendly feelings for him. “While I don’t wanna fight, I think we could pull off a conversation.”
She tried to smile, but her vulnerabilities got the best of her. “Our friendship is important to me, Tuck. When you moved away, it sucked, and I don’t want to lose you again.”
He reached up and cupped her cheek. “You won’t.”
Swallowing became impossible, and her lungs stopped taking in oxygen.
She opened her mouth, planning on saying something about wanting things to stay the same, and how she needed them to stay them—Addie and Tucker, troublesome twosome and best of friends—granted she could get her voice to cooperate.
He’d probably have no clue what she was talking about, but she had to put it out there. Just for her peace of mind.
“Addison! Tucker!”
She winced at the sound of her mom’s voice. Normally she’d be fine with it; right now she was dealing with a storm of confusing emotions that weren’t listening to reason.
She quickly took a step back and worked to plaster on a smile, and still she worried Mom would take one look at her and ask what was going on.
Not only did she not want anyone to witness her in this raw emotional state, she also refused to be one more thing Mom worried about, and she knew her family already worried she’d end up alone.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Murphy,” Tucker said, and he sounded totally unaffected and normal, which made her question everything all over again.
“Why, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, it actually is you!” Mom wrapped him in a hug. “It’s so good to see you! Why haven’t you been by for Sunday dinner?” Before Tucker could answer, she said, “How’s this Sunday? We can watch the game afterward, just like old times.”
“Are you sure a Saints fan will be welcome in a Falcons household this Sunday?”
“No,” Addie said.
“Addison! We try to be acceptin’ of all people, even if they have questionable taste in football teams. Unless they go on and on about that Crimson Tide nonsense—I’ve gotta draw the line somewhere.” Mom petted Flash, cooing something about him being “cute as a button,” then returned her attention to Tucker. “Shall I set you a place?”
Tucker raised an eyebrow, silently asking if Addie would be okay with it.
Why wouldn’t she be? Just because she was having trouble keeping her hormones in check didn’t mean she should deprive her family of Tucker’s hard-to-ignore presence.
She nodded, and he asked, “Are you makin’ pie?”
Mom beamed at him. He’d stroked her point of pride. Fully intentional, no doubt. “Course I am!”
“Then I’m there.” Ever the charmer, Tucker added, “For the record, I’d be there, pie or not.”
“Lucky for you, you never have to choose one over the other.” Mom turned to Addie. “Would you mind picking up Nonna from her doctor’s appointment? I already dropped her off, but I need to do the grocery shopping, and it’s probably gonna take me a while.”
“No problem.”
Mom patted her cheek. “Thank you, sugar. Oh, and can you also water the neighbors’ flowers while you’re at the house? She’s fixin’ to catch heat stroke runnin’ back and forth to water the plants without them noticing—yesterday she came back limping after rolling her ankle in the dark.”
“I didn’t realize you knew about the plants. Do the neighbors know yet?”
“Not sure. They haven’t dug ’em up or called the cops, at least.”
“If they do, call Tucker.” Addie jerked a thumb at him. “Nonna’s got him on retainer.”
“Speaking of which, I wouldn’t be opposed to her maybe not mentioning that to people anymore,” he said. “Suddenly I’m the entire town’s lawyer, and I’m not even really practicing law right now.”
Addie clapped him on the back. “Good luck with that, Crawford. I think I can speak for Mom and say we know better than to try to talk Nonna out of things.”
Flash pawed at her ankles, either needy or bored, and Addie scooped him up. Even though her T-shirt didn’t have anywhere to go, she still checked that it’d stayed put.
“Okay, I best get goin’.” Instead of moving, Mom smiled at them, and that prickling sense of foreboding crept across Addie’s skin. “It’s so good to see you two together again. Addie’s been real lonely since you left, Tucker, and I’m so glad you’re back.”
Since she’d just admitted that his moving away had sucked, Addie supposed it wasn’t absolutely horrible, although “real lonely” also sounded like “desperate and crying into her ice cream.”
Which she’d only done once, for the record, and she’d been PMS-ing hard and had unknowingly picked one of those movies where someone tragically dies at the end.
It was the most extenuating of circumstances, and she’d never been so glad to be all alone in her life.
Mom chirped a goodbye and, her mind assumedly preoccupied with which pie to bake on Sunday, headed toward the grocery store.
In dire need of a subject change, Addie said, “Joke’s on you. My grandma’s supposed to be eating healthier, so that pie you’re preemptively drooling over is gonna be a low-fat, low-sugar version. We all pretend it’s as good—even Nonna does, although she sometimes sneaks in sugar while Mom’s not looking. Then there’s the mashed potatoes. My mom’s taken to making them with cauliflower instead of spuds, and spoiler alert: they taste like disappointment, even smothered in gravy.”
Tucker cracked a smile. “Compared to the prepackaged pasta meals I’ve been making as of late, it’ll still be a step up, I’m sure.”
His expression changed, too much concern in the set of his features, and he was undoubtedly thinking about how lonely her mom told him she’d been.
Since she couldn’t handle pity or anything resembling it, she thrust the wiggly puppy in her arms at him. “I’d better go pick up my grandma.”
“Addie…”
She shook her head and gave him her most serious, don’t-say-it glare. “If you even think of saying somethin’ sappy or utter the word ‘lonely,’ I’ll be forced to slug you, and then you’ll be the one who gets pity-filled looks—not from me, of course, but I’m sure someone will come over and give you an ice pack.”
He held Flash in front of his face like a shield. “Please, not in front of the puppy.”
She grabbed his wrist and lowered the dog enough that she could see Tucker’s blue eyes. “I’m serious. My mom was exaggerating. Y
ou know how obsessed with coupling this town is—they refuse to believe anyone could be happy single and living alone. I like my life.”
Mostly liked it most of the time, anyway. No comment on the occasional loneliness, or how she’d recently tried to make it work with a guy who still hadn’t inspired any sparks.
Obviously she needed new spark plugs or to fix her faulty wiring because she was misfiring, feeling things for the wrong guy, and that could mess up everything, and ugh.
She could really use a ball to kick or throw right now. Maybe even someone to tackle, but not the guy nearest her—that was a bad idea all around.
“What about your job?” Tucker asked.
“I’m workin’ on it.”
For someone who’d felt all kinds of motivated and on top of things earlier today, she felt distinctly not on top of them now. With Tucker back and the rest of the guys here, things would be just like old times, and those occasional bouts of loneliness would be a blip in the rearview mirror.
No reason to panic or start worrying she might be what got left behind.
Even if Shep’s fiancée no longer liked her and that meant seeing less of him. The weirdo attraction vibes between her and Tucker were messing with their carefree relationship, and the more she thought about it, the surer she was that they were one-sided.
Tucker liked cheerleaders and beauty queens. Tall, skinny girls who wore sexy underwear more often than not.
Girls like Brittany.
Jealousy rushed in, and seriously, what the hell?
Twenty-eight years of being fairly detached and free of mushy feelings, and every single emotion decided to come at her at once?
So not cool.
It made her feel like a girl, and she didn’t like it.
She could pinpoint the moment it’d happened, too.
I never should’ve put on that damn pink dress.
Chapter Eleven
“Are you a lesbian?”
Addie nearly choked on her water.
Her grandmother’s face remained dead serious, narrowed eyes intently studying her.
The other night, Alexandria had called Addie to find out how her date with the dentist went, and she’d relayed that in spite of wearing sexy underwear, she still wasn’t sure they had any chemistry.
Evidently her sister thought she’d said, Please tell Mom and Nonna that I’m planning on sabotaging things with him so they can give me the Spanish Inquisition treatment when I next see them.
While the three of them worked on preparing dinner in the kitchen, her mom and grandmother had fired off question after question. Then she and Nonna had been caught doing their distract-Mom-while-the-other-person-adds-sugar-and/or-butter scheme, and they’d been banished to the living room, where her grandmother continued to press for more information on where she and the dentist stood.
Addie had said, “Honestly, I’m not rightly sure. But I can’t force myself to be more attracted to him,” which led to the question that still hung in the air.
Addie glanced at her parents—first at her dad, parked in front of the TV in the living room, then through the archway leading to the kitchen, where Mom moved among the fridge, counter, and stove, busy with dinner preparations.
“It’s okay if you are,” Nonna said, taking her hand and patting it. “You never had very long romantic-type relationships with boys, and while sì, some folks in this town are closed-minded, I sure they be more accepting than you might expect. And who cares what they think anyway? I just want you to find someone who make you happy.”
“As lovely as that sentiment is, and as much as I agree about not caring what people think, I’m not a lesbian, Nonna.” Sure, she’d initially resisted the idea of going solo for the rest of her life, but she decided it would be easier if she simply embraced her fate. “I’m a spinster.”
Her grandmother gasped. “No, cuore mio! This can’t be!” Her spirited response gained the attention of both of Addie’s parents.
Mom poked her head inside the room. “Everything okay in there?”
“We’re fine,” Addie said in a false singsong voice.
“This is no fine, missy.” Nonna huffed as she crossed her arms. “Why don’t you at least try to find nice girl who make you happy? Just see.”
If only that wouldn’t be as difficult as forcing sparks with the dentist, she’d seriously consider it. “I’m fine with being a spinster. It means I get to do what I want, when I want. No one else getting in the way.”
Nonna adamantly shook her head.
The doorbell rang, saving her from enduring further grief on the subject of her dating life—albeit temporarily, knowing her grandmother.
Addie excused herself to answer, and her muscles did a clashing mix of sagging with relief and tightening with desire as she took in Tucker and the way the dark-gray button-down shirt somehow brought out the blue in his eyes and made him look like he’d recently been chopping lumber.
One errant wave stuck out from his gelled-down hair, and he hadn’t shaved, something she shouldn’t be so excited about, considering it only made her conflicting feelings that much stronger.
At one time, Mom had insisted they dress up for Sunday dinners. After battling Dad, Nonna, and Addie for an uncomfortable couple of months, Mom finally gave in but insisted Addie at least wear jeans and shoes that didn’t need to be tied. She’d chosen Rocket Dogs that slipped on, a form of mutiny Mom only hadn’t commented on yet due to the dentist discussion.
“Come on in,” Addie said, stepping aside.
Tucker brushed past her, and she got a whiff of something woodsy and abundantly male, and while she’d already known, it confirmed that she was 100 percent into dudes.
Now if she could just find one at least 70 or so percent into her, maybe the spinster future her grandmother feared wouldn’t be her fate.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Mom yelled from the kitchen. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. Addie, can you offer him a drink?”
“No,” she said. “But he can get his own drink.”
Mom’s sigh carried all the way into the living room. Sounded like she was still upset, either about Addie refusing to divulge more details about her dating life or her and Nonna’s kitchen shenanigans.
Possibly both.
“I might need a lawyer,” she whispered to Tucker and, instead of laughing, worry bled into his expression.
“What happened?” he asked. “How bad of trouble are you in?”
“It was, uh, supposed to be a joke, but I like how you jumped to my being in trouble, as if it was the only option.”
His muscles relaxed a fraction, his lazy smile spreading across his face. “Well, I know you.”
“Hey! You were responsible for at least half our pranks. How you and Easton ended up on the right side of the law is beyond me.”
“Just covering our asses. And yours, because we’re cool like that.” She swore his eyes dipped to her backside for a second before they met hers. “So, you don’t really need a lawyer?”
“Nonna and I got caught sneaking butter and sugar into the food. In my defense, my grandmother was gonna do it with or without me, so it was either help and make sure she didn’t go too crazy or end up in a sugar coma later.” She sighed. “But now I feel guilty.”
Tucker leaned in, his hand going to her hip, his voice dipping low. “Okay, first rule: never admit guilt—not feeling it, not thinking you might be guilty. From here on out, ‘guilt’ is a bad word.”
Addie smiled even as her heart hammered harder in her chest, her body reading the signal of his hand on her hip all wrong. “What if there’s a plea deal? Maybe I should take it.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Now, did you leave anything at the scene of the crime that we need to take care of?”
“My prints are on the lid of the sugar canist
er. And the measuring cup.”
He shook his head. “There goes my hearsay defense. We might need to call an inside man, but don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
He dragged his thumb across her hip bone, a motion he probably didn’t realize he was doing, and her blood rushed to that spot, leaving her slightly light-headed.
Hadn’t she decided that crossing lines would mess up their friendship?
“There’s my handsome lawyer!” Nonna walked over and placed one kiss on each of Tucker’s cheeks.
And for a brief moment, Addie was jealous of her grandmother.
I’m a quarter Italian. Maybe that means I can get away with one little kiss on his cheek?
Just a quick one.
Since that wouldn’t be a horrible idea or anything, one that would make him think I’d gone crazy.
“I been talking you up to my friends, drumming up enough business so you stay here where you belong.” Nonna beamed at him and squeezed both his hands in hers. “No need to thank me. Just promise I always be your number one client.”
Tucker opened his mouth, then looked to Addie, presumably for help, but he was on his own. “I…I’m working on another job, so while you’ll always be my number one client, I might not have time for many others.”
“And what exactly is this mysterious job?” Addie asked, thinking maybe with the pressure of extra witnesses, he’d come clean.
“Tell you what. If your Falcons beat my Saints, I’ll tell you. After watching the Falcons get their ass”—Tucker glanced at Nonna—“butts handed to them last game, let’s just say I feel secure my secret will stay with me for a while.”
Addie shook her head. “Low blow bringing up that last loss. And pretty big talk for a guy whose team has only won one game this season.”
“They were working things out, but they’ve got it figured out now.”
“Pfft. Yeah, until this afternoon when they play a good team.”
“For someone so cocky, I noticed you haven’t asked for the other side of the bet—for what I get if your team loses…”
Addie crossed her arms and put on her best game face. “Let’s hear it, then.”