by Cindi Madsen
…
Tucker’s rapid pulse hammered through his head. He’d gotten caught up talking trash without an endgame in mind, and when Addie challengingly asked for his terms, all he could think was If I win, I get to kiss you.
Now he needed something else.
“We spend your next day off fishing.” He waited for the inevitable slamming of fishing, and how she’d say that she needed more action—better not think too much about that last part. “I get to pick the spot.”
She wrinkled her nose.
“What? Are you scared?” he asked, knowing that’d have her agreeing in no time.
“No. My team’s winning this game tonight; you can bet your ass on that.”
Both her mother and grandmother tsked over her swearing.
He had her right where he wanted her, so he confidently extended his hand, pushing her closer to the edge. “Do we have a bet?”
A beat of hesitation, and then she grabbed his hand and gave it one firm shake. He wanted to pull her to him and throw her off a bit, but her grandma was still standing there next to her, giving him an odd look that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
The woman was probably planning some kind of heist, and then he’d be smack-dab in the middle of a drawn-out legal trial on her behalf, since clearly he was never getting out of being her lawyer.
Mrs. Murphy called them to the table for dinner, and Tucker reluctantly dropped Addie’s hand.
They passed around the platters of food, and when he covered his mashed “potatoes” in gravy, Addie reached over and tipped the back end of the gravy boat higher, making more spill out onto the pureed cauliflower.
“Trust me,” she whispered. Then she doused everything on her plate in gravy.
While the rest of her family was distracted with eating, he asked if she’d heard anything from Lexi.
Her face dropped, and he wished he hadn’t brought it up—from now on, he’d ask Shep instead. “I tried calling. She didn’t answer, so I texted her a picture of the tulle-wrapped beam of the gazebo, along with the yardage, and still nothing.”
He’d just shoved a big bite of the cauliflower masquerading as potatoes in his mouth when Lucia asked, “Tucker, do you happen to know any nice single girls? I trying to set Addie up on a date.”
As hard as he worked to convince himself to swallow the faux potatoes, his tongue had other ideas, and his reactionary inhale at her question made them hit the back of his throat.
He covered his cough the best he could and then washed down the food with water. “You wanna set Addie up with a girl?”
Pink had crept into Addie’s face, and she shook her head, her eyes rolling to the heavens as if she needed help from above. “Nonna, I told you that I’m not into girls.”
“You won’t know till you try, and this makes perfect sense. You played softball and soccer. And you would have played football in high school if they let you.”
Addie’s fork clattered against her plate. “It takes more than liking sports to decide you also want to date girls.”
“I thought she was dating the dentist,” Tucker said, and that corresponding bite in his gut that happened whenever he thought about her with the guy dug in its teeth.
“She’s fixin’ to mess that up before it’s even started,” Mrs. Murphy said.
“Gee, thanks, Mom.”
“It’s only been two dates. One at Mulberry & Main, and one at his house, and Lottie said you left pretty early.”
“Oh my gosh, you get gossip about your own daughter from Lottie?”
Mrs. Murphy threw up her hands. “You never tell me what’s going on. I have to resort to crumbs from someone else.”
Addie dropped her head in her hands.
Admittedly, he wanted a straight answer about the dentist. Not that he wasn’t open to hearing more about her going out with another girl, but only in the imaginary-scenario-type way.
Reality was a different story, and he found that when he thought of it that way, he didn’t want her with anyone else. But he didn’t know if thinking of her with him was realistic, either.
Especially right now, with his life such a big question mark.
Actually, he knew it wasn’t realistic because of that, along with the state of his finances. Even if he was ready to get serious—which he wasn’t—he didn’t have $40,000 sitting in the bank, and his 401K was in an even sorrier state.
Which meant entertaining thoughts of anything less than casual was out of the question, and he couldn’t cross lines with his best friend for casual.
A rock formed in his gut—he was so far from so many of his goals, and while he didn’t like the cold dose of reality, he’d needed the reminder.
“Tucker, you’ve known her forever,” Mrs. Murphy said. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her.”
He’d already tried—although his goal was to convince her the dentist was no good for her—and it hadn’t gone so well.
This whole situation would almost be funny if Addie didn’t look so distressed. Needing to help however he could, he reached under the table, curled his hand around her knee, and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
While his intentions had been innocent, the instant she peered up at him and licked her lips, his blood heated, pumping faster and faster. His self-control wavered, and he wanted to give in to the urge to drag his hand higher on her thigh.
To see if it’d affect her the way just thinking about it affected him.
“So?” Her grandmother leaned forward, the sleeve of her shirt dangerously close to dipping in the gravy. “Are you open to going out with a nice girl—for comparison’s sake—or are you going to give the dentist another shot?”
…
Underneath the table, Tucker’s hand curled tighter around her knee. One glorious beat and then he let go, the warmth of his palm gone, yet the ghost of it remained imprinted on her skin.
Reading more into it was dangerous—Tucker had always sensed when she needed reassurance, and occasionally even crossed into slightly protective territory, to the point it’d sometimes irritated her because she could take care of herself. Despite thinking it might be nice to have help now and then.
But she couldn’t think about any of that right now, because too many eyes were on her. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “I plead the Fifth. Tucker, tell them what that means.”
“It means she’s stubborn as hell, and she thinks we’re all being too nosy.”
She arched an eyebrow. “We’re?”
“Didn’t I recently get in trouble for putting in my two cents about the dentist? I believe I was told to mind my business.”
“Good point, counselor. Thanks for reminding me. Yes, all y’all are too nosy.”
Not one to be deterred, Nonna Lucia leaned closer to Tucker. “I would like to hear your thoughts on the dentist.”
“I don’t like him,” Tucker said, unabashed, no time to think about it.
“You don’t even know him.” Addie wasn’t sure why she was defending the guy. David hadn’t called since attempting to feel her up on his couch, and the one afternoon he’d dropped off and picked up his niece from soccer practice, he hadn’t bothered getting out of his vehicle to say hello.
Something she’d been secretly glad about, since she didn’t know what she’d say to him after the way their date ended anyway.
“I know enough,” Tucker said.
Nonna steepled her hands and rested her chin on them. “Well if Tucker no like him, I no think I like him anymore, either. Yesterday in the coffee shop, I heard him going on and on about how busy he is helping take care of his niece, since his brother is single father. The ladies were all sighing over it, but he certainly milks that cow like a dairy farmer in danger of going out of business.”
Addie blinked at her grandmother. “What does that even m
ean?”
“It means he’s a con artist,” Tucker helpfully provided.
Addie looked to her parents to see if they’d help. Mom turned her attention to the gravy boat, twisting it point two inches so it’d line up with the design on the tablecloth. Dad had undoubtedly checked out of the conversation minutes ago, his thoughts centering around shoveling down his food as quickly as possible so he could get back to the TV.
“Hey, lawyer.” Addie poked him in the side, satisfaction pinging through her when he jerked. “Why don’t you plead the Fifth, too? Or go with that anything-you-say-can-and-will-be-held-against-you.”
“Sorry. I forgot that I’m not allowed to say anything about Addie’s dating life. We’re tryin’ not to get in fights.”
“Exactly. Now, if the rest of you would follow his example, that’d be great.”
Nonna pursed her lips and then glanced at Tucker. “We have a private meeting about this later. Don’t worry. We figure out what to do.”
“Then I guess I’ll stop minding my own business,” Addie said, “and go over to the neighbors and tell them that you planted those flowers in their yard.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
Addie scooted her chair out like she meant to go this very moment.
“Don’t worry,” Tucker said, hooking his ankle around her chair and tugging it back to the table with a noisy drag. “I’ll block her—she’s not going anywhere.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Suck-up.”
“Troublemaker.”
Before she could think of another retort, he reached over the table to bump fists with her grandmother.
“This is what it’s come down to?” she asked. “You and my nonna ganging up on me?”
“Unless you’re ready to talk?”
“Like you’re ready to talk about your mysterious new job?”
He leaned in. “Are you trying to get out of our bet?”
She leaned right back. “Bring it.”
The air shifted, and then she was noticing things she shouldn’t be noticing all over again—that damn strong jawline, the way draping his arm over the back of her chair tightened his shirt and showed off his firm pecs, his lips and how they were only mere inches from hers.
Jeez, here she was, about to kiss her best friend in front of her family two seconds after they’d grilled her about her dating life.
At least it would give them something else to talk about.
If it wouldn’t mess everything up, she might do it just to prove they didn’t know her as well as they thought.
“Game time,” Dad said, tossing his napkin onto the table. Everyone pushed away, their plates mostly cleared save the mashed cauliflower—Addie had forced down as much as she could to make Mom happy.
Only when she went to round the table toward the living room, Tucker turned and blocked the archway. She opened her mouth, planning to trash-talk his team a bit more before the game officially started.
The words died on her tongue as he reached over her shoulder and gripped the end of her ponytail. He’d teasingly tugged on it several times through the years, but this time was different.
Slower. More eye contact.
It also sent tingles dancing across her scalp.
A few oxygen-free seconds passed as they remained frozen in place.
“You guys coming?” Dad called out, and Tucker dropped his arm, almost as if someone else had momentarily inhabited his body and he’d just woken up wondering where he was and how he’d gotten there.
He gave her a sheepish smile as he stepped aside and gestured her into the living room ahead of him.
And suddenly, she thought maybe she didn’t know anything at all.
Chapter Twelve
Who’d be calling her right now, during one of the biggest games of the season?
Lexi’s name flashed onscreen and Addie’s plan to log the call so she could ignore it until after the game instantly changed.
“Hello?” The commotion on TV snagged her attention. “No, no, no! Why’s he throwing it to him when Jones is wide open?”
“Interception,” Tucker yelled, jumping to his feet and doing an in-your-face-type dance she’d call immature if she hadn’t done a similar one a couple of plays ago when the Falcons scored.
“Addie?”
She jerked her focus to the person on the other line, stepping out of the room even though everything inside her revolted. With football on, she’d inevitably get caught up in it, and this was important. “Hey, Lexi.”
“I appreciate you sending that information about the tulle. I’m, uh, not sure if that’s how we’ll drape it. My mother wants it more like curtains, but that should give us a basic estimate of how much we need. And now I’m rambling…”
Addie sucked in a breath and held it. She usually rambled when she didn’t want to spit out whatever she needed to say, and she assumed Lexi was doing the same.
She’d also known those pictures she’d sent of the decorated gazebo column were rough, but it was her first experience decorating anything besides a Christmas tree, and Mom and Nonna always rearranged the ornaments she put on anyhow.
“Will has assured me over and over that nothing really happened between you two, and I want to believe him, and it’s not that I don’t think he’s not telling the truth, but you could see how I feel weird about one of his exes being in my wedding. It was already weird enough with you being a groomsman.”
Every one of Addie’s organs turned to stone.
She didn’t realize how much she cared about being part of the wedding until she was sure that she wouldn’t be.
“I understand,” she started. “As much as I can, anyway, since it’s not a situation I’ve ever been in. It’s your wedding, so of course it’s up to you. Just…please let me come to the ceremony. I’ll sit near the back and then wish him well superfast and leave, I promise.”
Lexi’s heavy sigh came over the line.
Addie paced across the archway, and Tucker caught her eye. Then he was off the couch and walking over, and if he asked if she was okay, she’d probably burst into tears.
“I think it’s harder to know what to do because I like you, Addie, I do,” Lexi said. “If I told any of my bridesmaids about this, they’d think I was crazy for even considering keeping you in the wedding. I guess I just don’t totally get your friendship with Will.”
Hands curled around Addie’s shoulders, and she leaned back against Tucker’s chest. After he’d talked her down that night things with Lexi blew up, she’d decided accepting comfort from him wasn’t weakness.
It made her feel stronger. Steadier.
“He’s like my brother—all of the guys are. We know way too much about each other. We’ve never been a conventional bunch, but we’ve always been there for each other. I see how happy you make Shep, and I hope you know I’d never do anything to get in the way of that.”
“Doesn’t anyone call him Will?”
“You do. Will Shepherd is all yours, and you know him in ways no one else ever will. Shep is one of my closest friends, and I want him to be happy. And because of that, I’ll help you with wedding stuff, even if I can’t go.”
Tucker tensed and whispered, “She’s telling you that you can’t go to the wedding? Shep will never agree to that.”
Addie put a finger to her lips so he wouldn’t get upset and ruin the leeway she hoped she was making, then she grabbed Tucker’s hand and squeezed it, needing the extra lifeline.
“Of course you can come to the ceremony—I’d never keep you from the wedding. Can we…wait on the other thing?”
A knot formed in Addie’s gut, and she swallowed and put as much conviction as she could into her voice. “Sure. Did you want to meet up sometime this week to deal with planning stuff?”
“I’ll text you.”
Addie c
ouldn’t help thinking that meant no without having to actually say no. Unable to do much else, she told Lexi goodbye, and after she’d disconnected the call, she spun and placed her hands on Tucker’s chest. “Well, I’m going to the wedding. Not sure if I’ll be in it, but whatever.”
He frowned.
“Seriously, it’s better this way. I’ll wear a dress of my choosing and flats instead of heels, and it takes off some of the pressure.”
Tucker took her hand and tugged her into the living room. They didn’t sit on the couch but remained standing behind it.
“Ah, man, the Saints scored again?”
“Right after you stepped out.” Tucker draped his arm around her shoulders. “Lexi probably doesn’t get what a big deal it was for you to miss even a few minutes of that game.”
“Probably not. But you missed a few minutes, too, and I do get what a big deal it is.”
She wrapped him in a side hug, perfectly content to watch the rest of the game like this.
At least she was until Tucker’s team scored again and he jostled her and went overboard celebrating.
“I think it’s time for pie,” Nonna said. “Maybe that’ll turn this game around.”
“I happen to like where this game is going,” Tucker said.
Nonna gave him a dubious look. “Great. Now you can no be my coconspirator. How’d I forget you’re Saints fan?”
“Does that mean I’m off the hook for being your lawyer?”
“Never,” she said, shooting him a diabolical smile. “I get in far too much trouble to risk going without my very own attorney.” She turned her smile on Addie. “You okay, sweetie?”
“I’m fine. But pie would tip the scales to better.”
Nonna rolled her finger, and she recalled their plan and raised her voice. “With ice cream. I’m craving ice cream like whoa. Doesn’t ice cream sound good, Tucker?”
“You ladies are gonna get me in trouble,” Tucker muttered, and then he voiced his desire for ice cream, nice and loud, and Mom caved.
The pie and ice cream worked their magic, lifting Addie’s mood considerably. But what truly turned the night around was the two Falcons touchdowns in the last seven minutes. The two-point conversion sealed their win, and Addie didn’t hold back celebrating her own victory. “Time to spill your guts, Crawford.”