Just One of the Groomsmen

by Cindi Madsen

  She’d barely made it a step before she was yanked down to the ground. Tucker rolled over her, covering her body with his. “Someone’s close,” he whispered. “I saw figures. I’m just not sure if it’s the other fugitive team or the marshals.”

  Addie tried to remain perfectly still, watching and listening—well, listening. It was so dark she could hardly see Tucker, and he was plastered against her.

  She shifted, squirming against the unforgiving ground, and then gasped as his hard length pushed into her, sending another form of adrenaline into the mix.

  “No, I don’t have anything in my pocket,” he said, “and I am happy to see you.”

  Her fingers dug into his arms, and her body automatically arched against him, craving more of the delicious friction. His groan made her do it again, and his lips came down on hers, urgent and demanding.

  Pure physical need took over, and then they were making out with reckless abandon in the middle of the field, winning no longer the name of the game.

  Although there would definitely be winning.

  Tucker slid his hand under her shirt, skirting her sports bra with his fingertips before finally breaching the barrier.

  He tugged on her ponytail, angling his mouth over hers, and swept his tongue inside.

  The moo made her jump and was immediately followed by another low bellow.

  Addie squinted through the darkness and vaguely made out the large bovine shapes. “Um, those figures you saw are cows. Did you know that when you tackled me to the ground?”

  “Nope, but while you’re down there…” Tucker kissed her again, and she got lost in having his lips on hers, his hands on her body.

  The mooing came closer, along with the sounds of hooves on hard dirt and a wet splat that meant the air was about to get a lot more aromatic.

  “You sure know how to woo a girl,” Addie teased, running her fingers through Tucker’s hair as he kissed her neck.

  “Don’t say I never take you anywhere fun.”

  Obviously he was joking, but it made her wonder if they ever would go on an official date.

  She should really stop being a wimp and talk to him about how official things were, not only for herself but because she was starting to feel guilty keeping it from the rest of their friends and from her family.

  Then again, maybe I’m rushing.

  It’s only been a week since we’ve slept together, and suddenly it feels like things are going too fast and too slow, all at the same time.

  Since that wasn’t enough complications, she still needed to talk to him about the possible job with Bama. It’d been a crazy busy week, though, and she wanted to find just the right moment to bring it up.

  She’d given up on figuring out exactly how she felt about it.

  More hoof beats sounded, accompanied by a moo so loud it vibrated across her skin, and while she maintained that she’d rather face a cow than a gator any day, she wondered about those statistics Tucker had thrown at her over ice cream.

  Lying here and waiting to be stomped on hardly seemed smart, and on top of that, the whine of the four-wheeler grew louder.

  “Sounds like our time is up.” Tucker gave her one last hard kiss on the mouth, pushed to his feet, and helped her up. He jerked his head toward the lights that marked home base, and she nodded.

  Then she ran, hoping that his last statement didn’t end up being too true.

  …

  The group of them looked like they’d been playing football in the mud, and Shep had twisted his ankle enough that he had to limp into Hooters.

  Tucker halfway expected the hostess to examine their mangy group and turn them away, but she greeted them with a flirty smile and led them to a table. Ford made sure to mention that it was their friend’s bachelor party, and she promised they’d take good care of them.

  “Is there any way we could get a bag of ice?” Addie asked. “Or a cup if you can’t wrangle up a bag?”

  The hostess seemed to notice Addie for the first time. Her ponytail had turned from brown to dusty gray, and heat and a smug sense of pride wound through Tucker when he thought about how he’d been partially responsible for that and the caked-on mud on her sexy backside.

  His competitive nature demanded they win the game, but he’d temporarily forgotten that when he’d had Addie pinned underneath him in the field, her enticing mouth his for the taking.

  Right until being trampled by cattle had become a reality.

  The four-wheeler had stirred them up and made them nervous, and so he and Addie had made their big break for the base.

  Easton and Shep had come flying down the road, a cloud of dust kicking up behind the four-wheeler. Tucker had screamed for Addie to run, even though she needed no prompting, and Shep leaped off the back of the four-wheeler like some kind of crazed stuntman.

  He’d landed wrong on uneven ground, but all of them had crashed and burned plenty through the years. Since Shep was the king of the fake-out, Tucker and Addie had run to base.

  They’d only realized he’d truly hurt himself when he remained on the ground, a grimace on his face.

  “I’ll, uh, ask if we can do that,” the hostess said.

  “You’ve gotta get some ice on it now,” Addie said, her I’m-dead-serious expression aimed at Shep. “If you have to limp down the aisle, Lexi’s gonna kill us.” She glanced at Ford. “Back me up here.”

  “Ice your damn ankle, Shep.”

  The two of them had combined their sports medicine and paramedics skills to determine it wasn’t broken but sprained, thank goodness, but when they’d suggested they cut the party short, he wouldn’t hear of it.

  Not because of their dinner location—which Ford had picked out after it’d been made clear there would be no strippers—but because he’d had a great time so far, busted ankle and all, and he’d insisted on one last night with his boys before he married the “most amazing girl ever” in two weeks and had to become an official grown-up.

  The hostess brought a lumpy bag of ice, and Addie lifted Shep’s leg up on her chair and held the makeshift ice pack over the swollen bump. Three waitresses arrived to take their order, and there was a lot of mutual ogling on the other side of the table between Ford, Easton, and the waitresses.

  A few glances drifted his way, but he kept his gaze solidly on Addie. This situation had potential for disaster written all over it, and he was trying to be respectful, not to mention Addie was the only girl he wanted right now, and he wanted her to know that.

  One of the waitresses kept giving her quizzical looks, so Addie winked at her.

  Tucker covered his mouth with his hand to keep from busting up. It also made him think of the night she’d broken into the houseboat and winked at him while drunk.

  That night it was more of a twitch than a wink, but both times were just as damn cute. He placed his hand on Addie’s knee and gave it a quick squeeze, figuring he could get away with it between the table and other distractions.

  The waitress Addie had winked at circled the table, and at first he thought she must be into Addie’s flirting. Only then she leaned her entire body against his side and asked for his order in a low, husky voice.

  A muscle flexed in Addie’s jaw, but she managed to keep her cool.

  As soon as the waitress left, Addie shifted closer. “Did she have to shove her boobs in your face while she took your order?”

  Tucker met her fiery brown eyes and whispered, “Yours are way better. Especially in that sexy black bra. Or without a bra. It’s all win.”

  “And now I’ll never trust anything you say.”

  “It sounds like I’d better pay them more attention tonight, so you see just how big of a fan I am.”

  “Mm-hmm,” she said, and he could tell while she was trying to be cool with the situation, she was far from it.

  Every time the waitres
ses came over and flirted with him, Addie’s shoulders tightened even more, and it was the first time since crossing lines that things were a bit weird and tense because of it.

  During the entire meal, he could hardly relax, afraid his gaze would accidentally drift and Addie wouldn’t believe him. Not that he blamed her for being irritated—if a bunch of ripped dudes were paying special attention to her right in front of him, he’d hate it, too.

  Worse, toward the end of the meal, she seemed more sad than mad, and he’d take pissed over that any day.

  It’ll all be okay once we’re alone again. Then I’ll follow through with my promise and prove she has nothing to worry about.

  …

  Since every male ever always claimed Hooter’s simply had the best wings, Addie stifled her comment about them not being that good—the ones at the Old Firehouse definitely tasted better.

  But then she’d be the girl, and not only did she feel like the girl tonight, she felt like the bitter, jealous girlfriend.

  Which was also stupid because she would’ve felt left out if they hadn’t brought her along.

  Watching the waitresses flirt with Tucker had been akin to torture, and it sucked she couldn’t just loop her arm over his shoulders, kiss his cheek, and make it clear they’d better back the hell off.

  If I land the job, I’ll be gone a lot, and with how many pretty women hit on Tucker…

  Her insecurities flared and she bit the inside of her cheek to redirect the ache in her chest. Who wanted a relationship with someone who needed constant reassurance?

  At the same time, how many times had she been left behind once those types of girls stepped onto the scene?

  They wrapped up dinner, and then Tucker and Easton helped Shep into Ford’s truck. Addie tugged off his dirt-crusted shoe, gently palpated around the outside of the ankle to check the swelling, and rolled it through a series of movements to check his range of motion.

  “Elevate it as much as you can, take some more ibuprofen as soon as you get home, and ice it again before you go to bed. You’ll need to stay off it as much as you can the next few days.”

  Shep saluted her, the smart-ass. “Got it, doc.”

  “What she said,” Ford so helpfully added.

  She rolled her eyes but then noticed something was off about Ford. He was distracted and subdued—rare for the guy with the larger-than-life personality.

  Instead of climbing into the truck, she held back. “What’s up? Did you not get the waitress’s phone number?”

  “I got it,” he said, his voice monotone. She didn’t even know he could do monotone.

  “You’re usually happier after something like that. I feel like if I lifted my hand for a high five, you’d leave me hanging.”

  He opened his mouth, clearly trying to summon some of that Ford charm, but then he sighed. “I know. I’ve been off my game lately. It’s not a big deal.”

  When she focused on their past few interactions and tried to pinpoint when things had shifted, a lightbulb went off in her head. He’d gone down south to help after a storm had flooded several towns. “Did something happen on your last job?”

  “It was definitely one of my rougher jobs. Saw more devastation than usual and… I’ve held people’s lives in my hands before, but this time, with this certain woman…” Some kind of emotion flickered in his eyes before he shut it down, so quickly she couldn’t read it—she almost wished for a deck of cards, because she could read him easier when it came to poker. “Things just feel different now is all.”

  She gave him her most serious spill-it look and he returned his obstinate ain’t-gonna one. “Fine. I can’t pretend I’ve experienced anything like that, but lemme know if you need to talk about it. I know I’m not the best with emotions, but—”

  “I appreciate it, Murph,” he said, patting her on the back and effectively ending that conversation.

  She tried not to let it bother her. Usually she was the first to hear about his ventures, mostly because they turned into medical talk and the rest of the guys tended to tune out the “boring” or “disturbing” details.

  When things got heavy, like with a hiker his team found on the brink of starvation, he came to her as well.

  While she desperately wanted to dig, she respected his boundaries and wouldn’t push—not unless it grew worse. Instead she’d watch him and reiterate he could talk to her anytime, about anything.

  After one last look to convey that, and a nod from him, Addie climbed into the back of the truck along with Tucker and Easton so Shep could stretch out his ankle. His mostly silent cousin sat in the middle of the front seat, and Addie wondered if they’d traumatized him or if he was always that quiet.

  Or maybe he had a lot on his mind. Now that she had a moment to think, her brain started bringing up all the things weighing on it, and concern over Ford tumbled into the rest of the messy mix.

  What if she left and he needed her? The rest of the guys would be there for him no matter what, but he’d never open up to them the way she might eventually force him to open up to her—their macho egos would get in the way of admitting any kind of weakness.

  Not that she was much better…

  What if she rushed things with Tucker because of her possible job opportunity and they weren’t ready for the big talk? Why couldn’t they simply enjoy the beginning stage? When things were light and fun?

  Because you know each other too well and you have to be a grown-up, even if it sometimes sucks.

  She tapped out an anxious rhythm with her fingers on her thigh, working to keep those thoughts on silent, at least until she could do something about them.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t work. If only it was as simple as flicking a switch, like on her phone.

  Thinking about her phone gave her an idea. She lifted it and thumbed out a text to Tucker.

  Addie: Maybe we should tell them about us.

  Tucker shifted at her side, slipping his phone out of his pocket, and she fought the urge to peek over his shoulder while he read her message. A moment later her phone buzzed, and she tipped it so that Easton wouldn’t see.

  Tucker: Let’s talk about it later.

  In other words, no.

  Since her brain hated her, the asshole lawyer’s comment popped into her head: Does that mean you’re someone’s dirty little secret?

  The guy was a tool, but right now, covered in dirt and grime, the dirty part definitely fit.

  But it’s not like that with Tucker and me. I’m just freaking out. Once we’re alone, we’ll talk about it and the job and everything will be fine.

  Then I won’t have these annoying thoughts constantly buzzing at me.

  Ford pulled up to her house first, and of course Tucker couldn’t get out with her without raising suspicion, and he clearly still cared about that.

  “Night, guys. It was fun.” She shot Easton a smile. “It also makes me sorta worried about the safety of the town, considering you couldn’t even catch four fake fugitives.”

  “Next time I’m going to pepper spray you and see how funny you still think you are.”

  She laughed and scooted out his side—she couldn’t just brush past Tucker and keep on pretending her chest didn’t feel too raw, her emotions too close to the surface.

  He’d see right through her, and she needed to gather her wits and figure out how to curb feeling hurt over things they’d both agreed on.

  But if he wanted to continue to keep them a secret, that made her wonder if he thought she wasn’t worth taking a risk.

  And if he didn’t, why was she factoring him into her decision about applying for a job?

  “Poker tomorrow,” Shep reminded her. “We’re gonna cram in all the fun this weekend.”

  “Sounds good. It’ll also give me a chance to check on your ankle. Once the swelling goes down, I’ll give you some exerc
ises to do to get you up and running ASAP.” She climbed out of the truck and dragged her tired, dirty self into her house.

  Admittedly, now that she had to clean up the mud she tracked in, she better understood why Tucker’s and her parents had yelled and lectured so much over it.

  In order to prevent as much future cleaning as possible, she kicked off her shoes, stripped down to her underwear, and left the messy pile in the entryway. She padded into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stepped underneath the steady stream of warm water.

  A few minutes in, she swore she heard her name. Weird, especially since she should be alone in her house.

  She pushed the curtain aside and paused to listen. Yep, definitely hearing things.

  She turned back to the spray of water and began to sing, the way she only ever did when she was in the shower.

  …

  Tucker froze in the doorway of Addie’s bathroom. The front door had been unlocked, and while they lived in a safe town, he was going to mention he’d feel better if she locked it.

  Of course at the moment, he was extremely glad she hadn’t.

  He’d never heard her sing before, and he loved hearing her so uninhibited, slightly off key or not.

  Plus, her shower curtain was sheer enough that he could see her sexy profile. Since he didn’t want to scare her, he called her name again. “Addie? Did you hear me come—”

  “Ahh!” She plastered the curtain over her body with one arm and wielded a shampoo bottle with the other, as if that’d stop anyone with bad intentions, and right now he definitely qualified. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “The door was unlocked. I called your name, but…” He swallowed, his words gone.

  The curtain didn’t just hint at her profile anymore. He could see nearly every detail.

  He closed the distance between them, took her head in his hands, and kissed her.

  He’d left his shoes at the door, and while he’d wanted to add his dirty clothes to her pile, he’d worried she was upset about the restaurant thing, and he hadn’t wanted to be too presumptuous.