by Kait Nolan
He sighed, knowing the jig was up. “Fine. Yes, I like her.”
“You legitimately like Corinne Dawson,” Piper clarified. “The woman who spent all of high school and at least a year of college shamelessly throwing herself at one of your best friends and trying to torpedo his relationship with Tyler.”
Temper stirred again. “That’s what she did. It’s not who she is and that’s never who she was.”
“So you’re just excusing all the bad behavior?”
“I’m accepting it’s in the past. Why the hell does everyone insist on punishing her for something that was over and done a decade ago?”
“I’m not punishing her, Tucker.”
“You would have happily run her through on Tyler’s behalf when Brody came back last year.”
“Only because I thought she upset Tyler.”
“She didn’t. At least not deliberately. Tyler seems perfectly willing and able to get past their history now that she and Brody are engaged, so why can’t you?”
“I haven’t had a reason to before now. Look, Tucker, I’m not trying to be difficult here, I’m just trying to understand where this is coming from. You know as well as I do that performing together can create a false sense of attraction and intimacy.”
“This isn’t new,” he interrupted. “This isn’t because we’re dancing together. I’ve been wanting to ask her out for more than a year.”
Piper gaped at him. “A year? Tucker, I know you haven’t really dated anyone seriously since Laura, and maybe that’s left you feeling kind of lonely, especially since all of us are coupled up now, but Corinne? She’s all wrong for you.”
“Oh, because the one who was perfect for me on paper turned out so well?”
“I’m not saying you should find someone else like Laura, I just think you should find someone…”
“Who isn’t Corinne?” he finished flatly. “It’s not your call to make, Piper. And you’re hardly the poster child for making rational relationship decisions. You and Myles decided to get married before you’d even dated.”
She flinched, her hand going automatically to her belly, and Tucker felt like an asshole.
He sucked in a breath, striving for calm. “I’m not proposing. I’m not making any rash decisions. But I like her.” What the hell? Might as well go for broke. “I’ve always liked her. Had things been different, I’d have asked her out in high school.”
“But why? She was such a mean girl.”
“That’s all you ever saw. All you wanted to see.”
“Oh, like you knew her so well?”
He remembered what he’d seen after she’d been crowned Homecoming Queen, when her parents hadn’t even congratulated her. Instead they’d laid into her about what she hadn’t done, highlighting what they perceived as her failures. He’d watched them walk away from her and seen the tears streaking her makeup as they absolutely ruined her night. “I knew better what was driving her behavior.”
“And what exactly was that? What could possibly excuse how she treated people back then?”
“It’s not my story to tell. And it doesn’t excuse it. I’m not saying it does. She made some mistakes. And she’s more than aware of it. Since she came back to Wishful, she’s been working hard to make up for them. But that’s really hard when everybody keeps shoving her back in that box, acting like she still expects some kind of respect because of her former accomplishments. Newsflash: She doesn’t expect anything from anybody. She’s just trying to get by and make a better life for her son. I admire that. I admire what she’s done, what she’s trying to do. All I’m asking is for you and everybody else to give her the chance to do that without giving her more grief.”
“If I was interested in giving her grief, Tucker, I wouldn’t have been here tonight. I’m perfectly willing to concede she’s not as I remember her. And I’m sorry if I’m having some trouble wrapping my brain around all this. It just took me by surprise, is all.” Piper slid off the table and crossed to take his face in her hands. “I love you, and I want you to be happy. I know you wouldn’t be investing the time in her if you didn’t believe she was worth it. So I promise, I’ll work on getting past our history, okay?”
It wasn’t exactly the wholesale endorsement he’d hoped for, but under the circumstances, it was probably the best he’d get for now. He’d been right when he told Corinne it would take time for people to see her as who she was now.
Dropping a kiss on her cheek he said, “Thanks. Buy you and the Peanut a hot fudge sundae before Lickety Split closes for the night?”
She looped her arm through his and laid a hand over her belly. “We’d love that.”
~*~
Something bright and buoyant filled Corinne’s chest as she headed toward home. High on the successful rehearsal and study session, she felt lucky and grateful and—dare she admit it?—hopeful for the first time in…maybe ever. This improbable, surprising thing between her and Tucker might just be the start of a legitimate something. Maybe. That was both wonderful and terrifying. But every time the fear started to creep through her buzz, she thought about all those tiny moments over the past three weeks.
I’ve got you.
She believed him. And she’d learned never to believe in men. Maybe she could believe him because, for some reason, he believed in her. That was something she could quickly get addicted to. If there was a part of her counseling caution, for tonight she wanted to silence that voice and bask.
Her good mood carried her through the back door and up the stairs, where she pinned Kurt with a tickle attack post bath and gloried in his freshly-scrubbed little boy smell, before curling up on his narrow bed to read the latest chapter in Captain Underpants. Because she’d missed him, she made it two chapters before finally getting him settled in for the night.
Feeling a few aches from practice and deciding she’d earned a good soak, Corinne made her way down the hall to the bathroom. She was humming as she switched on the water, dug out some scented bath salts.
“Somebody’s in a good mood.”
Corinne looked up to see her mother leaning in the doorway, her lips curved into a smile that seemed just a little smug around the edges.
“Had a good day.”
“Yeah? How’s that?”
What did she say to that? It wasn’t as if she’d actually confided in her mother about the problems she’d had since she came home. Not after the first time she’d come home from work, in tears because someone had scrawled an ugly note on the check instead of leaving a tip. Marianne’s response had been, “Well, what did you expect?” As if she hadn’t been the one driving Corinne to climb the social ladder in high school, no matter who she had to step on to do it. The ends justify the means had been one of her favorite sayings.
“It was a good day. Lots of folks talking about the competition. People enjoyed Friday’s performance.” God knew, it was nice to have them talking about something positive that was in the now instead of a history from a lifetime ago. A lifetime she’d rather forget.
“You did good there.”
Surprised by the compliment, Corinne said, “Thanks, Mama. We worked really hard.”
“Don’t suppose that good mood has something to do with the dance partner you were seen locking lips with by the fountain the other night.”
Corinne’s cheeks heated, so she leaned over the tub to stir in the bath salts. It was Wishful. Of course someone had seen them. But she’d hoped she’d get the chance to enjoy the newness of what was between them for a while longer without commentary from the peanut gallery.
“He might have something to do with it,” she admitted. Too late to deny that. “It’s been a long time since I was kissed.”
Marianne came further into the room, hopping up on the vanity. “Tell me everything.”
Where was this buddy-buddy girlfriend thing coming from? They didn’t do this. Had never done this.
“There’s nothing much to tell. We kissed. That’s it.” No reason to mention the r
ooftop garden at The Babylon or all the reasons that thoughts of him had her going soft inside.
“Nonsense. That can’t be everything. One kiss wouldn’t put that look on your face.”
“What look?” Corinne resisted the urge to check her expression in the mirror. Did she have In serious like with a wonderful guy tattooed on her forehead?
“That dreamy-eyed school girl expression. You like him.”
She was not dreamy-eyed. Was she? “Of course, I like him. He’s a nice man. Thoughtful. Funny.”
Marianne nodded in approval. “Good lookin’, too. Sure did fill out nice for being so lanky in high school.”
He did, indeed. But she felt weird discussing it with her mom. “He grew up. Happens to everybody.”
“Not everybody has a backside you can bounce a quarter off of.”
“Mama!”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, don’t look so scandalized. I’m divorced, not dead. So are you two dating now?”
Corinne didn’t know what they were. Not yet. And she wasn’t in an all-fired hurry to define it. She’d rushed into a serious relationship with Lance and that had been a disaster of epic proportions. Not that she believed Tucker was anything like her ex-husband. But she couldn’t afford to be impulsive and foolish. She had a child to consider. “I don’t have time to date. Not on top of rehearsals.” And Tucker had seemed fine with the idea of going slow, letting her set the pace.
“Rehearsals.” The tone put Corinne’s back up. “You wanna keep a man like him, you best be rehearsing something other than choreography. Leastwise the vertical kind.”
Corinne switched off the water and pivoted to face her mother. “Excuse me?”
“I’m just saying, he’s a good looking, successful attorney. You’ve gotta lock that in while you can.”
“Lock what in, exactly?”
“Don’t be dense, Corinne. He’d be a good provider and a helluva step up from where you are now. It’s time you stopped wallowing and did something about it.”
“Wallowing?” she repeated. Sheer disbelief was the only thing keeping her from shouting. “Is that what you think I’ve been doing?”
“You’ve gone a year and a half with no man at all. What else do you call it?”
“Prioritizing,” Corinne snapped. “I’ve been working and going to school and doing everything I can to make life better for Kurt. To get us to a place where we’re no longer a burden to you.”
Some small part of her hoped Marianne would jump in and correct her. Say they weren’t a burden. But, of course, that didn’t happen.
“Be a lot quicker to find a new husband.”
Because she really wanted to hurl the jar of bath salts, Corinne curled her hands around the edge of the tub. “Do you not understand what I came from, Mama? Do you not realize exactly what kind of marriage I had? And you really think I’m in any kind of a hurry to find another man after that?”
“You picked wrong the first time. Figured you’d learned better. No question, Tucker McGee is a better man than Lance.”
“That’s the first thing you’ve said that I agree with.”
“Then what’s the problem? You like him. He seems to like you.” Her expression implied Though God knows why. “Why not better things for yourself?”
Appalled, insulted, Corinne rose to her feet, mustering as much pride as she could manage. “Because I’m no longer in the business of using people to get what I want. Now please step out. I want a bath.”
Marianne sniffed. “You don’t have to get all huffy about it.”
“Just go. Please, go.”
“Fine.”
As soon as her mother was out of the room, Corinne locked the door. Then she sagged against the counter.
God. Was that what people would think of her with Tucker? That she was out to use him? Planning to sink in her claws and drain him like some kind of parasite?
Of course they would. Because she’d done it before. Because no one cared that she wasn’t that girl anymore. No one would let her be someone else. And who would possibly believe a man like Tucker could legitimately be interested in someone like her? Who could blame them? She didn’t understand his interest herself.
The gossip was inevitable. She knew that. She’d come to expect it about her and resigned herself to enduring it. But she wouldn’t repay Tucker’s kindness by painting a target on his back. She simply couldn’t put him through that.
He’d be angry and say it didn’t matter. But what did he know? He’d never been at the center of the shitstorm of public opinion. He didn’t understand what that was like. And even if he stood by her, it wouldn’t last. Couldn’t. No one would willingly subject themselves to that. Not for the likes of her. It would change how he saw her, whatever he thought he felt for her. He would walk away, and she’d lose the only good thing to happen to her since she came back home.
She’d already endured so much. She didn’t think she could go through that. She couldn’t stand to have him look at her like everyone else. As if she were less. As if she’d brought all her misfortunes on herself in some kind of epic karmic smackdown.
There was only one thing to do. She had to walk away before either of them got in any deeper.
Decided, she slipped into the water and sank, feeling the bright light of hope wink out.
Chapter 10
Somehow, somewhere, Tucker had made a serious misstep.
It wasn’t the kiss. Either of them. Corinne had been on board both times. He didn’t think it had anything to do with hanging out with his friends. She’d made it through the experience like a champ and even enjoyed herself. It wasn’t last night’s rehearsal either. No question she’d been grateful for the drill session on her exam material. And she’d gone downright misty-eyed on finding out he’d picked Star Wars music for Kurt. Their rehearsal had gone well, with Corinne picking up the components of the routine without problem. They weren’t quite polished yet, but with most of a week left until the performance, he wasn’t worried there.
But he’d woken up to a text this morning saying she had to cancel rehearsal tonight. His first thought was that something had happened to Kurt, and he’d asked as much. But after assuring him Kurt was fine, Corinne had gone radio silent.
It might be nothing. He might simply be paranoid. But all Tucker’s instincts were telling him he’d screwed something up. Corinne was distancing herself, when he’d expected another step closer. He needed to see her, to get to the bottom of this, and waiting until tomorrow, giving her longer to think whatever she was thinking seemed like a tactical error. Which was why he was driving all the way out to Hope Springs to the women’s shelter, where he happened to know she was volunteering today.
Thank you, Mama Pearl.
Corinne’s old, gray Toyota was still in the drive when he pulled up. He’d brought actual business with him to legitimize the trip either way, but he was relieved he hadn’t missed her. Grabbing his briefcase, he trotted up the front steps. The door swung open before he could knock. Lily Mae Pollard filled the doorway, hands on her generous hips, her silver streaked blonde hair pulled back in a thick braid.
“Wasn’t expecting you today, Tucker. Something going on?” Her manner was easy and friendly, but Tucker knew she could turn hellcat fierce if one of her charges needed protection. Her reputation as a former sharp-shooting champion was widely known around town.
“No ma’am. Got some paperwork for Cassidy to sign is all.” He made a show of looking back at the Toyota. “Is that Corinne’s car?”
Lily Mae’s lips twitched. “It is. She’d probably appreciate a rescue. Come on in.”
“A rescue?” From what?
“You’ll see.”
Lily Mae led him back to the great room, which had a wide bank of windows overlooking the water. An enormous sectional dominated the space, surrounded by bean bags and giant pillows for lounging. Corinne sat in the middle of a crowd of women, looking like she wanted to bolt but was too polite.
“What about his hands? He looks like he has great hands,” one woman sighed.
Tucker held one out, examining his palm with interest. “I don’t know. Long fingers, a little calloused, kinda knobby at the knuckles.”
There were a couple of shrieks, and one woman dove behind the chaise at the end of the sofa. Corinne closed her eyes, with less a look of relief so much as Just perfect.
Because he didn’t know what else to do, Tucker fixed on his trademark smile. “Sorry to interrupt, ladies.”
“What are you doing here?” Corinne asked.
He lifted the briefcase again. “Business.”
“Hope you gave yourself plenty of time. We have a fan club.”
“Yeah?” He grinned again, delighted by the idea.
Corinne looked less than amused as she rose. “Ladies, you can transfer all your questions to him now. It’s time for me to go.”
A chorus of disappointment rose up.
Tucker took a step to block her path. “Actually, can I talk to you for a bit before you do?”
She hesitated, her gaze skimming over their audience.
“It’ll only take a few minutes. Outside,” he added.
“Okay.”
“Be right back, y’all.” Tucker set down his briefcase and followed Corinne out of the house. When she veered toward her car, he snagged her hand and tugged. “Let’s go down by the water.”
She looked down at their joined hands and frowned, pulling away before heading toward the bank. “Make it quick. I have to get to work.”
Definite confirmation he’d screwed something up.
Tucker fell into step beside her, saying nothing until they’d reached the shoreline and were therefore out of earshot of the house. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
In defiance, she lifted her head and met his gaze straight on. Tucker searched her face, looking for some hint, some clue as to what had changed between them. But her expression was blank. The same kind of mask he’d seen her wear when someone was rude to her at work and she couldn’t afford to show her upset.