by Cindi Madsen
“Oh, hon,” Lexi said, and she covered Addie’s hand with hers. “I wish I knew what to say. I’m still sort of holding out hope that he’ll burst in at any moment and tell you he’s been a complete idiot.”
The knock at the door made both of them jump. Addie shot to her feet, her heart pounding with so much hope—too much.
Then Shep walked in.
He strode over, still favoring his right ankle, gave her a hug so tight her feet left the ground, and asked, “You okay?”
Addie squeezed him back, the crack that’d formed inside her filling in a bit when Lexi turned the hug into a group one.
“Hey, babe?” Lexi asked. “Were you limping?”
“I, uh. Funny story…”
A loud knock cut him off, then Ford barreled inside like he’d been called over for some type of emergency. He glanced from Addie to Lexi and Shep, back to Addie. “I came to check in. And to give you shit about Bama, you traitor.”
Right now, Addie needed someone to treat her like she wasn’t fragile, same as she’d needed the talk and drinks with Lexi and the hug from Shep. “Don’t act like you won’t be begging me to sneak you in and meet the players.”
“The cheerleaders maybe. Probably getting a little too old for that, though.” Ford crossed the room and squeezed her shoulder. She knew what he was asking, even if he didn’t say the words.
“I’m okay,” she said, and she prayed that if she said it enough, maybe one day she would be.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Flash tugged on the leash as Tucker walked across the town square. While his puppy was forever in a hurry to get to wherever they were going, lately Tucker didn’t feel excited enough to rush anywhere. Or to even get out of bed in the morning.
He forced himself to so he wouldn’t turn into one of those pathetic has-beens, the anecdote people told their kids to scare them into sticking with it, or else look at what they might become. Day in and day out, he went through the motions, digging through files and talking to people about their broken boats.
Mere weeks ago, he’d found a newfound love for legal cases, no matter how odd or how small. He’d taken on boat repairs and renovations, and he’d thought he was building something. That he could make life in Uncertainty work, even if it meant shifting his goals and how he’d once envisioned his life.
As Flash dragged Tucker past the gazebo, he automatically glanced inside. But Addie wasn’t up on a ladder risking life and limb in the name of helping her friend’s fiancée with her wedding planning.
She always went above and beyond, putting herself last, which was why he’d tried to force her to put herself first.
And in return, he’d lost her.
It’d been ten days since their awful fight in the houseboat. She didn’t answer his calls. Didn’t answer her door. She’d started locking it, too, so he’d have to go the breaking and entering route, and he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t crossed his mind.
He did happen to have a cop friend, although he wasn’t sure Easton would let him out of anything right now, and no matter how much legal jargon he could spout and spin, B and E wasn’t exactly a gray area.
In desperation, he’d driven to the soccer field and caught the tail end of the last game Addie had coached. As soon as it ended, her team and parents surrounded her, and then she’d managed to give him the slip.
She hadn’t gone to her house, either—he’d swung by to check.
This morning he’d finally received a text, in reply to the one he’d sent asking how things were going in Tuscaloosa.
He told himself not to look at it again. And yet he pulled out his phone anyway, as if the words might’ve changed and would mean something different this time.
Addie: It went great. Gee thanks for not thinking I had a mind of my own and for making sure I followed this possible job lead. Now you don’t have to worry that those few times we had sex didn’t do any good. Feel free to commence with the freedom cartwheels.
To say she was still pissed would be an understatement. If he could take back that stupid “Then what good is it” comment, he would. He’d been frustrated, and everything had been falling apart, and now she wouldn’t even listen to his apologies.
How did it get ugly so fast?
Everything he thought they could avoid because they were friends first didn’t matter in the end. They disagreed; they fought. They…
His lungs collapsed in on themselves.
They broke up.
Tucker walked past the fabric shop, and of course Lottie was standing outside, hands on her hips. You’d think helping her daughter with her divorce would’ve put him in her good graces, but nope.
She sighed, nice and loud, and he experienced that urge to hurry he’d been missing. “Mornin’, Lottie,” he said in the name of not being rude.
“You think another girl will put up with you the way Addison Murphy does? Because I’ll tell you right now that you’ll never do better.” Another huff. “The nerve, coming back to town only to tell her to leave. Who’s going to help rehab my bad knee now?”
Logical answers about seeing Mr. Watkins or how Addie didn’t have to live her life for the people of Uncertainty wouldn’t do him any good, so he simply walked on, and this time he had to tug on Flash instead of the opposite way around.
At first, Tucker thought one of his friends must’ve spilled the beans as some sort of payback. Probably because his head hadn’t been right in over a week.
Apparently what signaled suspicion was the fact that his truck wasn’t parked at Addie’s anymore. The town had accepted they were friends, so once they began avoiding each other, everyone speculated they’d had a falling out.
Maisy, the pregnant woman who ran the bakery shop, didn’t say anything, but the purse of her lips made it clear she was Team Addie. And as he was leaving the coffee shop, someone muttered, “And he claims to be a War Eagle man.”
That was too far, and nearly enough to make Tucker turn back and say something, but again, no use.
Once tongues started wagging about the rift, everyone jumped in to speculate why. Turned out he and Addie weren’t as discreet at the bar and diner as they’d thought. Once those juicy pieces of gossip were added, the whole town realized they’d attempted a romantic relationship, and several blamed Tucker for it being no more.
He didn’t bother defending himself, because unlike the rumor about him being fired from his big-city law firm, this one was true.
He’d screwed it up.
There were a hundred better ways he could’ve handled it.
He’d forgotten how silly the town could be when sides were drawn, and yet it didn’t dim the love he had for it, the slower pace, and the different lifestyle. They protected their own, and he admired them for standing up for Addie without bothering to gather things like all the facts.
The problem was they hadn’t a clue about what was best for her. She thrived on challenge and deserved a job she loved, one she’d dreamed about since forever.
She needed to go meet someone who could provide her with the life she deserved.
By the time he got his act together, she’d probably be running the whole damn organization up in Tuscaloosa and be engaged to a burly football coach who also raked in the dough.
The idea of it ate at him, and he was getting sick of being the bigger person.
He froze in place when he spotted Addie’s grandma coming down the sidewalk. Lucia flashed him a sad smile as she approached. She threw her arms around his neck, and he bent lower so she could kiss one cheek and then the other.
While it’d taken him a few seconds that first night back in town to get re-accustomed to her greeting, he’d been afraid she wouldn’t bother now that things between him and Addie were so screwed up.
“How you doing?” she asked.
“I’ve been better.” He wasn’t
sure why it was easier to admit to her, but it came right out, and then he found himself needing to explain further. “I just want the best for her. I’m sorry it means she might live in another city, but she hates her job here.”
“I know. You’ve always looked out for her. You’re a good boy.”
He wasn’t so sure, but it was nice that all of one person in town thought so. “How is she?” he asked, holding his breath as he awaited the answer.
Lucia sighed, her shoulders getting in on it. “She’s sad. She tries to hide it, but she can’t from me. Whenever she stops fighting to be okay, the sorrow hits her.” She flattened a hand to her chest. “It breaks my heart to see her so sad.”
His heart didn’t feel so great, either, and that news cracked it right open. “If she’d just let me talk to her…”
Lucia shook her head. “She’s too stubborn. And she got a good arm. I worry about the things she’d throw at your pretty head.”
He laughed. “Yeah, me too.”
“I’ve watched you two circle each other for years. I always wondered what’d happen if you fell into the same orbit at the same time. You have something between you that not many have, so I knew it’d be explosive bad or explosive good. Either way, lots of banging.”
He clamped his lips, working not to react to the way she’d phrased it—he was relatively sure she didn’t mean it like that… But with her, he couldn’t be 100 percent sure.
“You see, friendship is easy. You add fire, it gets tricky. But if you find a way to have both…?” A smile curved her lips, and she tapped a finger to them. “My Seamus was like that. My best friend. My love. Some days he make me so angry, but on days I so angry, he pull me into his arms and love replaces it all.”
Tucker glanced across the square like he could peer through the row of houses and see whether or not Addie’s truck was parked in front of it.
“She no home right now. She has more interviews. Lots and lots of interviews—my granddaughter’s in high demand, you know.” The woman took his hand and squeezed it. “I’m not sure if she coming back today or tomorrow, but she’ll for sure be back for the wedding stuff.”
“Oh good, so she can throw decorations at my head and everyone can cheer when she hits me. Then they can also get mad that I messed up the wedding. Can’t wait for that.”
She chuckled. “Sounds about right. But if you try real hard, maybe you can fix it. Maybe you only get one black eye,” she teased.
He ran his fingers along his eyebrow, his mind whirring.
He wanted to fix it more than anything. He needed Addie in his life, even if all they’d ever be was friends.
Even if he’d always have to suppress the desire for more.
“I don’t know how,” he admitted.
Lucia pinned him with a serious look. “Well, you have three days to figure it out. I suggest you stop feeling sorry for yourself and get started.”
He admired her enthusiasm and how she managed to be on his team as well as Addie’s. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t prevent their lives from heading in two separate directions, and he refused to be dead weight.
Even though he was sure that Lottie had been right when she’d said he’d never find anyone better.
…
Relief flowed through Addie the second her interview with the Auburn athletic department was over. Not only because she’d made it through without botching it, but it also meant no longer having to fake being okay.
She wanted to be excited when she’d received a call from the boisterous athletic director who’d insisted she come in for an interview since he’d “be damned if I let Bama steal one of our alumni.”
For a brief second, a spark had lit inside her, but then all she could think about was how much she wanted to call Tucker with the news but couldn’t, because she wasn’t currently talking to him, and that made it hard to be excited.
Hell, it made it hard to get out of bed.
Then there was the other insane thing she’d thought during the interview. If both football teams offered her a position, she might pick UA.
She couldn’t very well stay in Uncertainty knowing that Tucker might settle for her. Or worse, have to watch him date a Barbie and suddenly decide his financial situation wasn’t that important after all.
No, if that were going to happen, she’d rather be hours away, trying out a new life.
It’d be less lonely not knowing anyone than knowing too many people and still feeling lonely. Anyway, she assumed.
She didn’t want to not take a job because of a guy, but she also didn’t want to take a job just because of one, either.
The fact that Tucker was that guy made everything a hundred times more complicated.
She climbed into her truck and glanced at her phone. A text from her mom asking how the interviews went, as well as a voicemail from Nonna.
Addie tapped the screen and put the phone on speaker, worried something bad might’ve happened, and her grandmother’s voice filled the car.
“Your mother force-fed me squash in place of noodles today,” Nonna said, forgoing a typical greeting. “In case you ever wonder, spaghetti squash is no the same as pasta. My nonna make her own pasta from scratch, and she’d be rolling over in her grave if she saw the way people have bastardized Italian food here.”
If Great-Nonna Cavalli rolled over in her grave as much as Nonna Lucia claimed, the groundskeeper at the cemetery would’ve called in those hot brothers from Supernatural by now.
Don’t get her wrong, Addie would definitely stop and take a second to appreciate the eye candy, but what she really wanted was to get her hands on that car. To take it out on the back roads and see how fast it’d go.
“It a good thing I still had those brownie bites you smuggled from the bakery for me, or I would have starved,” Nonna continued, and affection and sorrow clashed through her.
Missing her funny, overdramatic grandmother would be hard, but at least Addie could still hear her voice when she needed to. The drive to Tuscaloosa and back wouldn’t be too bad, even if she could only buzz down and buzz right back.
“This no mean I don’t want you to move, although I don’t. It just mean I appreciate you, and you’re such a good girl. But if you do move, you have to find me a replacement smuggler. I happen to know a guy who might do it. I ran into him in town today.”
The vise that’d held Addie’s heart hostage for a week and a half tightened.
“That boy is about as miserable as you. Just thought you should know.”
About as miserable?
Probably like he was about as serious as she was about crossing lines, and apparently there was a lot of wiggle room in what “about” meant.
He’ll get over it. Me…?
The ache in her chest bloomed, spreading throughout her body.
She texted her grandma to say she’d call later and, on reflex, checked her phone’s screen again, figuring she’d take one last look before starting the car.
Nothing.
As if it had a mind of its own, her finger tapped Tucker’s name.
He’d stopped calling and texting, and while seeing his name brought too much pain and conflicting emotions, it hurt even worse to not see it.
She hated how the weight of everything that’d happened sat like a giant wall between them, making it too hard for her to simply call and start a casual conversation and let his sexy voice carry her cares away.
To be able to ask how Flash was, as well as which side of the dock had more customers this week, boating or legal?
To ask him which job she should pick if they offered them to her, even though a big part of their fight stemmed from him doing exactly that.
I just wanted to know he’d be with me, no matter what I chose.
Hell, I just wanted him to hold my hand in town and tell everyone I was his so that I’d be
lieve it.
“This love stuff is bullshit.” Addie froze. She hadn’t meant to say it, but it didn’t make it untrue.
She’d loved Tucker Crawford for so long, and she’d realized the love was changing and deepening, although she hadn’t stopped to analyze it.
The knowledge burned through her now.
I fell in love with him.
How could I let myself fall in love with him before being sure he’d love me back?
Driving the thirty minutes home seemed overwhelming, not because of the time or the distance but because of everything she’d have to face there.
The rest of her friends were constantly checking in on her like she was some kind of sad, broken girl, and while she was, she couldn’t handle it anymore.
A quick swipe sent the contacts on her screen rolling, and she tapped the name that took her first spot, her heart in her throat as she pleaded for the person on the other end to pick up.
“Alexandria? Would it completely put you out if I came and stayed with you for a few days?”
Chapter Thirty
It was funny how three days away from home could make everything look so different.
The fact that the town square had been transformed for a wedding probably had something to do with it.
Tulle had been draped like curtains in each section of the gazebo, white lights twinkling through the fabric, and floral arrangements arched over the spot where the couple would be wed.
Basically, the beautiful execution made Addie’s attempt seem even more pathetic, and she was definitely deleting that picture off her phone.
She parked her truck and observed the bustle of people going back and forth. The rehearsal dinner was about to start, and she needed to get out of her truck, but once she did, she’d have to see the guys—and then she’d have to see the guy—and she still didn’t feel ready.
Not now that she knew she was madly in love with him.