Words I Couldn't Say (Promise in Prose #1)

by Tessa Teevan

  “What…what are you doing here?”

  He strolled towards me and placed one hand on the small of my back. The other came up to cup my cheek. His eyes bored into my own, and his gaze enraptured me. “It seems we’ve been caught,” he murmured.

  All I could do was nod.

  “I know it’s only been three weeks, but, Ava, having you back in my life has renewed me. I don’t want to hide how I feel for you. I don’t want to pretend friends with benefits is acceptable. Because it’s not.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  “Something I should’ve said a long time ago. I want you to be mine. Only mine.” He paused then grinned a goofy smile that melted my heart. “I feel like I’m in middle school, but out of respect for your father—and out of respect for you—I have to ask. Ava, will you finally, once and for all, make an honest man out of me and be my girlfriend?”

  My heart soared to heights unimaginable. This was it. This was exactly what I’d been waiting for. This was exactly why I’d returned home, and it was finally happening. I couldn’t answer quickly enough.

  “Yes, Tucker. Nothing could make me happier.”

  His eyes softened at my words. I wished I could read his mind because my own was running a thousand miles a minute, and my heart was racing equally as fast, both nervous and thrilled to give myself to him in this way. He was asking not just for my body, but for my heart as well. Heck, he’d already had it all along.

  He drew me into his arms and bowed his head before capturing my mouth with an urgent hunger that set my insides on fire. Our chests were pressed together, and I nearly forgot we were making a very public display of affection.

  The kiss was lingering, intoxicating, and deliriously different from any we’d ever shared. It was as if he were attempting to convey his feelings in that one act of affection. My breath was ragged when he pulled away, and he left me astounded by the expression in his eyes. It was a magnificent mixture of desire and heat coupled with all the devotion and tenderness he still felt for me. Things I still felt for him. For years they’d lain dormant and one kiss, one touch, one confirmation that I was his, was enough to revive those emotions. And they quickly took hold deep down inside both of us.

  “I’ve never wanted anything more. You’ve made me the happiest man on the planet.” With one more quick peck on my lips, he took a step back and gave me an ear-splitting grin that lit up his features. “Ava Banks. My girl. It feels like I’ve been waiting forever to call you that. I’ll see you at family dinner tonight.”

  My hands rose to my lips and the heat of his kiss lingered on my lips long after he’d departed.

  When I returned to the table, I knew that the entire scene had been witnessed. Charlie and Mom were grinning, while Lexi, ever the romantic, had tears in her eyes.

  Lucy held her hands over her chest and gushed, “That was so romantic.”

  Maya and Chloe watched Tucker with stars in their eyes before their heads whipped around to look at me.

  “That’s the boy from next door?” Maya asked.

  I nodded.

  Maya fanned herself. “Wow. He certainly grew up.”

  I grinned at her. “Yes, Maya, he definitely did.”

  Chloe piped in. “Does he have a brother?” Her eyes gleamed with hope.

  “Chloe Amelia, if your father heard you talking about older boys…” her mom, Charlie, warned.

  Her daughter gave an exasperated sigh before she leaned closer to her mom with a mischievous grin crossing her lips. “You think that would stop me? After all, I am your daughter.”

  I FLOATED ON CLOUDS FOR the rest of the day. The girls found shoes and accessories to go along with dresses, while their moms enjoyed mimosas and bloody marys, taking turns discussing how they kept the spice alive after forty. As nervous as I was about being public with Tucker, I couldn’t have been happier when that conversation was over. If I had to hear another word about the latest erotica-novel-turned-movie, I was on the verge of promising to star in one just to shut my mom up. Then again, when Lucy swore by some contraption called a Wartenberg wheel, I was intrigued enough to covertly type it into a search engine and buy with one-click from Amazon.

  By the time we returned home, all of my worries of spending the evening with my family and my new boyfriend in one place had dissipated. Family dinner with Tucker was in three words: simply the best. It was evident he fit in just as perfectly as he had back when we were kids. And why wouldn’t he? This was normal for Tucker. Over the years, even while I’d been gone, he and Tanner had spent one night a week eating with the family. My parents had stepped in and acted as surrogate parents. They’d gone to Tanner’s football games, helped carpool whenever Tucker needed them to, and even managed to embarrass Tanner by chaperoning his high school dances, too. For him, more than it was for me, being there in my childhood home was normal.

  This was his family. My heart leaped into my throat, and tears sprang to my eyes.

  Did that mean I could be his family, too?

  Hope stirred in my belly. Tucker’s words and actions ever since we had reconnected told me that it wasn’t only possible, it was pretty much a done deal. He’d crept back into my heart and repossessed the place he’d never actually left, consuming me wholly as we’d been unable to do before. But there was still some small part of me that wondered if it was too good to be true. That stupid, annoying, niggling doubt was waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Tucker to realize I hadn’t been worth waiting for. That this was all too fast, too simple, and when all was said and done, Tucker’s affections had been more nostalgic than genuine earth-shattering, once-in-a-lifetime love.

  But, when he took my hand under the table and placed it on his thigh as if it belonged there, all doubt fled. I didn’t know why that one small act was enough, but there was something so soothing about that touch. The setting. Glancing around and seeing the table filled with those I loved most in the world, I knew it wasn’t a fluke.

  Because the truth was that it had been fast. It had been easy. Because our hearts were connected as one, and we’d already wasted too much time apart to spend our time now playing games. No matter the time or the distance, he’d always been mine. I’d always been his. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Tucker was there to stay.

  I just had to show him that I was, too.

  After my parents had died and Ava had left, to say I was utterly devastated would have been a massive understatement. Sometimes, when I lay awake in bed at night, I wondered how I’d ever gotten through those years without losing my mind. There I’d been, eighteen years old and unexpectedly the guardian of an angry thirteen-year-old kid. Not only had I been grieving over the loss of my parents, but I’d also had no idea how I was supposed to go on without the love of my life by my side. She’d been there, a piece of me, the most integral piece of me, since the moment I’d been born. Every single momentous experience in my life, she’d been a part of. How was I supposed to go on after such a devastating loss? But how could I not? So, in the end, I pushed my grief aside and focused solely on my brother, and my father’s business, throwing myself into both in a way that would make my parents proud if they were somewhere smiling down on me.

  I wouldn’t have made it without the Banks family. They all but took Tanner and me in, even when I tried to push them away at first. Sierra extended an invitation for us to eat with them every night, but I wanted to prove to myself and to everyone that I could take care of my brother all on my own. I wanted to do my parents proud, so every night, after a long day spent in the sun, hammering, hanging drywall, and pouring concrete foundations, I’d pick out some off-the-wall recipe, hit up the grocery store, and then haul Tanner’s ass into the kitchen, where we’d make dinner together and catch up on each other’s days.

  Turned out to be a great way for us to bond without focusing on what we were missing. It also helped keep us busy in the lonely hours of the evening when the house was too quiet no matter how many video games we played or the n
umber of action movies we watched to drown the silence out.

  At first, we avoided Mom’s cookbooks. It was too soon and we had too many fond memories of Mom spending her days in the kitchen to cook for “her boys,” as she’d liked to call us. Nothing had made her happier than cooking. Dad had often commented that she needed to start a restaurant, but she’d always laugh him off, place a smacking kiss on his cheek, and tease that she had a hard enough time keeping the three of us fed. The last thing she needed was an entire restaurant full of hungry people.

  I think that was why Tanner and I spent so much time in there. It was a way to feel close to her even if we weren’t using her own recipes. It was an unspoken ritual, and the more intricate recipes we tried, the longer we spent in the kitchen. It was therapeutic for both of us. We talked about everything and nothing, and as the weeks passed, Tanner’s anger seemed to dissipate. Heck, the first time I heard him laugh after the funeral was over lumpy gnocchi, and it was like music to my ears. And the best meal we’d ever made.

  That is until one night after a tough day on the job site. All I wanted was a beer, a pizza, and a long, hot shower in which I’d picture what Ava would be doing if she had been there with me. Before I could enjoy any of that, I walked into the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of my brother standing at the counter, tapping his finger on one of Mom’s favorite Italian cookbook.

  I didn’t even have to ask which recipe he was reading. Even from across the room, I saw the red speckles of dried marinara dotted on the page. It had to be Mom’s famous lasagna—my favorite dish, and one I hadn’t eaten since she’d died.

  “What’s all this?” I asked, eyeing all the ingredients strewn about on the island in the middle of our kitchen.

  Tanner glanced up and saw me standing across from him. His lips turned up into a half smile It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was better than the perpetual scowl he’d had since the funeral. Then his eyes brightened.

  “You’ve been working your ass off, Tucker. And I know you’re still sad about Ava. So I wanted to cheer you up. Sierra took me to the grocery store.”

  I simply stood there as my vision suddenly swam with tears. I cleared my throat then reached across the island to flick him on the forehead. “Don’t say ass.”

  He grinned. “What are you going to do? Ground me?”

  “Don’t tempt me,” I retorted. We both knew working on a construction site had led to my saying much, much worse. Our mother had prided herself on a clean vocabulary, something she’d instilled in at least one of her sons.

  As Tanner chattered about his school day, we followed the recipe to a T and ended up enjoying the most delicious meal we’d had since before our parents had passed.

  That night turned a corner for us. Once a week, we’d take turns picking a recipe from Mom’s book, not only emulating them to the best of our ability, but, over time, little quips of what Mom would do if she had been there. What substitutions she would have made if need be. How many times she’d have slapped Dad’s grabby hands away from her chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. Each meal prepared led to more recollections. We were bonding by celebrating the memory of our parents. That’s when I knew we were going to be okay.

  Still, Sierra had insisted we join the Banks family dinners every Sunday evening, and I hadn’t been able to say no. So, for the last five years, Tanner and I had been there, diligently, just like we were part of the family. Because that’s how the Bankses made us feel. Like we were right at home.

  Being there with Ava, however, was a brand-new experience. She wasn’t just my best friend. She was my girl.

  Just as the thought crossed my mind and a smile crossed my lips, I felt a hard kick to my shin. I grunted and looked up. Pacey was sitting across from me, scowling in my direction. If anyone ever tells you six-year-olds aren’t terrifying, don’t believe it. They haven’t seen a little Banks boy pointing a butter knife in your direction with a menacing glower on his face.

  “I’ll cut your nuts off!” he declared, making slashing motions with his weapon of choice.

  The boisterous activity around the dining table instantly came to a halt as all eyes came to me. Mouths twitched, eyes shifted, and I can’t deny that my balls retracted into their protective sac.

  Sierra leaned over and placed her hand over his, lowering it and the knife before she safely discarded it from his little grip. “Pacey, that’s not very nice,” she scolded while obviously struggling to not laugh at her youngest son.

  Pacey passed a frown back and forth between his parents. “But Dad said it first!” he protested.

  Jeremy picked his own knife up and pointed it at me. “You heard the kid.”

  Sierra rolled her eyes in my direction, waving him off in a shrug that said I shouldn’t be surprised—or worried. Ava had always been Daddy’s little girl, but the littlest Banks apparently possessed his personality.

  “Okay, as much as Tucker and I would love to stick around and see what other threats you Banks men can come up with, I have a long day tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep,” Ava said, throwing her napkin down and scooting her chair back from the table.

  Flynn scoffed. “Sure. More like booty sleep.”

  Ava’s mouth fell open. “Flynn!” Her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes darted around the table.

  Her parents weren’t naïve to what we were doing, but that didn’t mean she deserved to be called out in front of her entire family. Especially in front of Pacey, whose eyes were now wide and questioning. It was only a matter of time before he asked what booty meant.

  Eli shook his head at Flynn. “Not cool, man.”

  Jeremy gave his oldest son a light smack on the back of the head, but I was the one who addressed him.

  “Outside.”

  Flynn didn’t move a muscle.

  “Now.”

  He looked at his parents, no doubt hoping they’d save him, but he was out of luck.

  Jeremy just shook his head. “You’re on your own on this one.”

  With a huff, Flynn pushed back from the table and stalked outside. Before I could stay anything, he folded his arms and glared at me. “I don’t know what the big deal is. Everyone knows Ava spends the night with you every night. And we all know you’re not just having innocent sleepovers.”

  “And that’s your business why?”

  “Uh, maybe because she’s my sister?”

  “Which is exactly why you should be keeping your mouth shut. If you’re going to be any kind of man, you must respect women. That includes your sister. Embarrassing her like that in front of her family is uncalled for, and it wasn’t cool. What she and I do in private is just that—private. It’s between the two of us, and when you grow up and fall in love with someone, you’ll want it to be private, too.”

  “You’re in love with her again?” Flynn asked.

  I groaned. Naturally, that was the part of what I’d said that he latched on to. Still, I grinned at him. “Never stopped, buddy.”

  “Good. Because like Pacey and Dad said…” His threat trailed off.

  I slapped a hand on his shoulder. “I get it. I hurt Ava and I’ll be castrated. But, Flynn, you can’t hurt her, either. You got it?”

  He nodded. “I didn’t mean to,” he said.

  “I know that. But make sure she does, too, okay?”

  When we walked back inside, Flynn went straight to Ava. “Sorry, sis. I was just teasing. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  She gave him a tight hug, which caused him to groan as she squeezed him in her tiny arms. “I know, Flynn.”

  And, just like that, everything was fine.

  We said our goodbyes, and then Ava grabbed my hand, leading me next door and straight to my bed. Our bed. Her eyes shone with playful interest.

  “I may have a big date tomorrow, but tonight, I have you. And I definitely need that booty.”

  I laughed, falling on top of her and giving her just what she needed.

  And maybe, just m
aybe, going the extra mile so that, when she was out on a date with another man the next day, I’d still be the only man on her mind and in her heart.

  THE BUTTERFLIES ATTACKING MY STOMACH were relentless, fluttering in an insane fashion, flapping their wings so frantically that they’d fall off if they kept moving. We’d been filming minor scenes, but we were about to get into the meat and potatoes of the movie now that everyone was available for shooting. Today was the first time I’d really get a chance to get to know my costar. The costar Tawni had nearly threatened to stalk when she’d found out Trevor would be portrayed by the one and only Leo Lockwood. He was what People Magazine called this generation’s Scott Eastwood. Yes, while the studio might have gone with a lesser-known actress to play the role of Abigail, they’d certainly gone all out for Trevor’s casting.

  As Tucker had made Cincinnati such an important piece of the story in Those Three Words, Jonathan thought it would be a great idea for Leo and me to get a feel for the city. And, well, since I’m a born-and-raised proud Cincinnatian, I was the perfect tour guide. Now that I was waiting in the lobby for Leo to show up, I wondered how it’d match up to the sleepy, coastal town in Maine he’d grown up in.

  Then I saw him and knew the poor boy had no idea what he was doing.

  “Nope.” I shook my head at Leo the moment he walked off the elevator. I wrinkled my nose at the sight of him and sighed. He had a lot to learn about Cincinnati.

  His usually bright smile faltered when he saw my frown. He peered down then back up at me. “What? What is it?”

  I placed my hand on his shoulder and marched him back onto the elevator. When the doors closed, I turned to him, poking him in the ribs. “This is unacceptable. You have to change.”

  He cocked his head to the side and frowned, revealing one dimple on his left cheek. Tawni claimed that it was his greatest feature. To me, it had nothing on Tucker’s.

  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” His eyebrows drew together as he frowned at me.

  “If you want to get a feel for being Trevor, you have to change,” I insisted again. “The first rule about being a Cincinnatian? You absolutely cannot wear those colors.”