Every Single Thing About You: A “Tuck Yes” Love Story - Book 3

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Every Single Thing About You: A “Tuck Yes” Love Story - Book 3 Page 10

by Hopkins, Faleena

Josh asks, “Mind if I join you?” surprising everyone. We didn’t hear him walk up. “You have an extra seat.”

  My tongue finds a home between two molars as I decide how to handle this. Can’t turn him away. I can’t be rude to a student in front of other students. I motion to the damned empty chair. “Join us.”

  He waves to our young server, points to his change of address, sitting down and making our party four. “Were you talking about how beautiful this place is?”

  Joan chuckles, “We were talking about if Tempest was into women, I’d be her first pick.”

  “Really?” he smiles.

  I spin my fork slowly, using it to focus on rather than him.

  Shaun throws his hat into the ring again, “I flat out said I’m in.”

  Joan rolls her eyes at Shaun before looking to Josh. “I told her I came to yoga because she was teaching it. And I don’t mean her mad skills.”

  “Whatever gets you to the gym,” smirks Josh, placing his napkin on his lap.

  Shaun scoffs, “Gym. Of course you would say that.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You’re a gym rat.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yeah.”

  The two men stare at each other, friendliness gone.

  I reach over, touching Josh’s shoulder without consciously meaning to, the protective mother-hen instant in me. “Josh isn’t all he appears to be. Don’t judge a person until you know them.”

  Shaun looks at me. “Wasn’t saying that.”

  I shrug, “Hmmm,” implying he was.

  “He’s a jock type.”

  Since he is my student and I don’t want to start this retreat with resentments, I argue as gently as I can with Shaun, “Jocks are, um, bigger.”

  Josh laughs, “Thanks a lot!” with a toothy grin so disarming it renders our table speechless.

  I blink at him.

  Shaun drops his gaze.

  Joan’s smirk grows.

  Three glasses of red wine arrive with a water for our newcomer.

  He eyes our choice, inspiring me to explain, “A retreat doesn’t have to be dry.”

  “I expected smoothies and kombucha.”

  “This is about relaxing and having fun in a gorgeous country.” Holding up my glass I add, “I wouldn’t make people come to Italy without allowing them to enjoy part of what it’s known for.”

  Joan waves to our server, “Mi Scusi,” holding up her glass and pointing to his water. “Vino?”

  “Si, Si!” He disappears.

  Josh and I lock eyes for a hot second, and my gaze travels to a lock of hair hanging over his forehead. I want to touch it. See if it’s damp like I think it is. Needing to say something, anything, I ask, “Did you take a nap?”

  And a shower?

  “I did.”

  Hoping I don’t appear interested in just him — even though I am — I ask the others, “Did you guys?”

  “That’s why I was late,” Shaun grunts.

  “I couldn’t,” Joan happily sighs, “Too excited about being here. This is my first time in Europe. How about you, Josh?” She raises her glass for a sip, but he stops her.

  “Bad luck not to toast.”

  The glass lowers, her eyebrows twisting. “Is it?”

  “That’s what they say.”

  “Yeah,” Shaun agrees, “Bad luck.”

  Joan looks for the waiter. “He better hurry up then.”

  “Is it just meditation tonight, or yoga, too?” Josh asks me as our server approaches, places a fresh glass of red in front of him and receives a friendly, “Grazie.”

  “Prego,” nods the server before he quickly disappears to handle a growing clientele.

  Shaun peers at Josh. “Didn’t you read the schedule?”

  “Nine-thirty. Restful Practice. Forty-five minutes. Please attend with yoga mat and blanket. Water is always advised.” Josh’s smoldering gaze travels to me. “Wasn’t sure what ‘restful’ entailed.”

  I lift my glass, heart pounding against my will. “It’s a combination of both.”

  With our glasses suspended, Joan says, “To a restful vacation where we all discover ourselves again! And love what we find!”

  Taking a sip, gaze averted to the table cloth in an act of self-preservation, I lick my lips and hum, “Mmm. That’s tasty.”

  Either Josh passed his ‘didn’t you read the schedule’ test or Shaun was just hungry, because during a dinner that promises Italian cuisine will live up to its famous reputation, the four of us bounce easily from one topic to the next. We’re visited several times by excited students dropping by to see how we’re liking it, and to confirm they’ll attend the first night’s practice. We skip dessert to avoid being too full, and after our plates are cleared, Joan sees that Meredith has stood up, and winks to me. “See you at nine-thirty!”

  Shaun stands, too. “Another nap.”

  I nod, “Will you be there?”

  “Didn’t come here to sleep.”

  Reaching over I clasp his hand. “That’s what I love to hear!”

  Josh moves his chair to let them squeeze by, leaving just us. Alone.

  We each have a hand on our empty glasses, like they’re support until he drops his and leans back. “Do you want to take a walk with me?”

  I blink at him. “No.”

  “Okay.” Josh frowns and asks, “Why not?”

  I sigh, and let my hand drop, voice gentle yet confused, “I’m not sure if you understand, so let me explain it to you. I left my apartment — my own home I shared with Chris for three years — to move in with my grandparents. I’m the only grandchild to do that. It’s humbling. But I did it for a reason. This is not my only retreat — it’s my first one. How this goes will set the tone for more. It could give me good reviews or bad ones. Word can spread in either direction and it’s crucial that I do this right.” My gaze drops for a second and I chew my lip before meeting his eyes. “Josh, do you have any idea how important this is to me?”

  “Do you have any idea how important this could be for both of us?”

  I sigh, “Yes, I know you want to find yourself again after the loss you’ve been through. And if I weren’t so confused by it, I’d be honored you chose my retreat to help you get there.”

  Something passes over his eyes, but he hasn’t faltered in his gaze. Not once. We’re staring at each other for a good three seconds when he says, “That’s not what I meant, Tempest.”

  Wracking my brain to understand what that means, I’m interrupted by our server. “Scusi, signorina, more wine?”

  Josh answers for me, “No, Grazie,” and stands up, “Grazie.”

  The young man bows his head, “Prego, prego,” and rushes off again.

  I rise from my chair, napkin thoughtlessly tossed. At Josh’s expression, I ask, “What?”

  He stands several inches taller than me. “I’ll see you at nine-thirty, Tempest.”

  “Okay, Josh.”

  Starting to leave, he turns his head and stops. “Take a walk with me. Everything is planned. Your schedule was well thought out. Meticulous, even.”

  I laugh, “I don’t know about meticulous!”

  “Nobody needs you right now.” He holds out his hand. “Except me.”

  My frown drops to his offered hand. I clasp mine together, passing him. “I’ll see you at nine-thirty, Josh.” As a warning I toss behind me, “Don’t be late.”

  Chapter 18

  “Slept like a rock,” I smile to Tempest after practice the next morning, our first full day in Italy begun.

  Rolling up her mat — mine still on the grass behind me — she’s suddenly stiff. “That’s great, Josh.”

  “We’re going into town for lunch today?”

  She swings her long single, thick braid behind her, and straightens her neck. “That’s what’s on the schedule.”

  Ignoring the unspoken challenge to recite it again — don’t have to prove I’ve done that twice — I ask, “How are we getting there?” At her ques
tioning look, I casually explain, “I looked on the map and knew you’d consider it wasn’t walking distance to some.”

  Her knowing smile comes slow, and she drops to pick up her folded blanket. “People not from New York.”

  I nod, “Not used to walking as much as we are,” glancing over as Joan walks into the villa, winking at me.

  Tempest holds her mat and blanket in front of painted-on aqua yoga pants and matching long-sleeved midriff, “We’re taking a car,” colorful stone-laced bracelets stacked on both wrists. One ring on her right index finger that I notice doesn’t match her bohemian yoga vibe.

  We’re the last two out here, which I’d planned. Tempest left last yesterday evening, and at her studio. I gathered that she doesn’t intend to have her students feeling abandoned, or alone. It makes her alone, but hey, the captain goes down with ship.

  Now I’m here.

  She’s not alone anymore.

  “A few cars, yeah?”

  “Yes, Josh,” she sighs, obviously wondering why I’m bugging her about this. “We’ll need more than one. But I thought of that, too!”

  I chuckle, enjoying her continuous irritation more and more. “I figured you had.”

  “Then why ask?”

  “Because I wanted to see if you had to go in those cars?”

  Her hip juts in annoyance. “Of course I do!”

  “Is it a must?”

  Cocking her head, she demands, “Do you want me to fly?! Shall I sprout wings and meet you all there?”

  Stepping back on one bare heel, sunlight catching my eyes, I laugh and tell her, “I’d like to see that.”

  “So would I,” she mutters, bringing her hips back into alignment, brown eyes beautiful as she smiles. “That would be pretty cool. Me with wings, flying over the coast of Italy.”

  “I’ve got something like that we could do.”

  Tempest stares at me. “What the Tuck are you talking about?”

  “I was thinking it’d be fun to rent a scooter. Wanted to see if you’d like to ride on the back.”

  Her lips part. “Could we?”

  “Yes!”

  “I’ve never been on one before!”

  “Lucky for you, I have. You’ll be safe. I even have a motorcycle license.”

  She leans forward in shock. “You do?!” Few Manhattanites need wheels. Some don’t even have a regular drivers license, so her surprise is logical being from New York.

  “From back home. Rode a Harley during high school.”

  Impressed she nods, but a frown jumps into her whole being as she leans back, disappointed. “So it’s expired.”

  “Still have it!”

  “With you?”

  “Not with me.”

  “Josh!”

  “You don’t need a license to ride a scooter. I was just making you feel safe.”

  Tempest thinks about it, eyes shining as they dart toward the villa, probably considering if it’s okay to take a scooter when her students have to take cars. She whispers, conspiratorially, “Let’s do it!”

  I expected a hard no, and my whole body feels the yes even though I keep my cool, shrugging, “I’ll pick you up at the time we’re meant to leave.”

  Bouncing once like a little girl, she exclaims, “I’m so excited,” starts to head off, but pauses, glancing to my mat. “Sorry, I’ll wait for you to gather your things.”

  “Nah, I’m good. You go on ahead.”

  “I like to be the last one to leave,” she frowns, confirming my suspicions even more with the confession, “I don’t want you feeling alone.”

  Meaning more than she realizes, I smile, “I don’t want that either,” and roll up a spongy red yoga mat I bought on a whim, that seems to have proven to bring more than Zen back into my life. “If you’re worried about the others riding in cars, they paid for that. And sure, we might inspire them to rent a scooter, but that would be on a voluntary basis.” Hoisting my unfolded blanket and rolled mat, I meet her eyes. “Scooters aren’t for everyone, but cars are. What you booked worked for the group as a whole. Bonus Activities, as you stated in your schedule, are the rights of every student on their own to do added things they feel will make their trip here more fun.”

  Tempest eyes me. “You thought of everyone.” She stares at me in a way that makes my blood pick up speed. “I mean…everything.”

  Voice deepened by the desire to kiss her, I explain, “I do a lot of events. They fly me all over the states. I’m used to what’s included and what’s not.” Motioning to the villa, I keep things casual even with my heart pounding hard. “Ready to go in?”

  “Mmhmm.” We walk toward the foyer, people sitting under vine-covered gazebos to our left, and Tempest asks, “Do you think I picked a good place?”

  “I think it’s perfect.”

  From the corner of long eyelashes she looks at me, our footsteps slow. “Really?”

  “Wouldn’t change a thing.”

  “I feel like you mean that.”

  We walk inside and she hesitates, glancing to their small café.

  I nod, “I’ll see you soon,” and head upstairs, leaving her behind — no doubt to wonder over a coffee why I’ve changed my tune so much.

  Chapter 19

  “Finally you answer!” I cry out, walking outside with my espresso so I can talk candidly without being overheard.

  Zia reminds me, “You’re on a different time zone!”

  “I didn’t call when you were sleeping.”

  “Maybe I was doing other things,” she says with a smile in her voice.

  I mutter, “Jealous!” taking a sip and finding it as strong as I’d hoped it would be. Such a tiny ceramic cup but I want it to last. Changing the subject I grin, “If you could see where I am right now!”

  “Is it gorgeous?”

  “We haven’t left Villa Crawford yet, but it’s set right in the Bay of Naples with water reaching to both sides, and Zia, it’s stunning. I’m so glad I did this! This morning when I woke up I called Grandma and Grandpa and thanked them until they told me to stop.”

  “I bet they were really happy to be a part of this for you.”

  Smiling, I agree, “That’s what they said, too,” and drink down the coffee. “Enough with the chit chat! What the Tuck is Josh doing here?! I know you knew about it! Why didn’t you warn a cousin?!”

  “I was…busy.”

  Stopping beside a low hedge blooming with hot pink flowers, “You can’t keep using that as an excuse!” I balance my tiny cup and saucer on them. “What is up with him, Zia? He’s acting really strange!”

  Disappointment laces her tone immediately. “Oh no, is he being rude to you again?”

  “No, that’s just it! He’s being…cool.”

  Zia sighs, “Oh thank Tucking gawd,” and laughs, “You had me worried there.”

  “Answer the question! Why is he here? I tried calling my sister and she didn’t pick up! Three times!”

  “I don’t know why he’s there.”

  Picking a flower petal, I turn it over in my hand, phone pressed to one ear, mind on Josh. “He said he’s building something. I guess I should be flattered my retreat seemed like a great place for him to heal.”

  “Heal?” She pauses. “Oh right, he’s healing. That must be why he’s there.”

  Setting the petal on my saucer, I frown, “He didn’t say?”

  “I think he mentioned something like that to Nax. He must have. I can’t remember.”

  “Zia, you know what?! It’s great that you’re in love and all that, but your airheadedness is out of control. How could you not know I needed a warning… that jerk… would be here.” Why was it so hard to say that?

  “I should have. I’m sorry. You’re right. My head is up my ass.”

  A grin spreads, and I lift my saucer, “It really is!” cup wobbling as I head back to change.

  “What are you doing today? What time is it there now?”

  “Almost eleven. We’re heading into city-center, and
I’m so excited to see more of Sorrento!”

  Will calls out in the background, “Is that Tempest!?”

  Zia hushes him, “No, shhh.”

  My footsteps slow. “Why are you lying to Will?”

  “Um…it’s a long story.”

  Momma-bear hackles raise, voice sharpening. “Don’t lie to him, Zia!”

  “Just trust me, okay?”

  With fire in my chest, I hesitate to speak while angry — because I do trust her, so there must be a reason —and force the blaze down to crackling embers before I mutter, “I don’t understand why you can’t tell him it’s me.”

  “Just trust me!”

  I walk into a foyer bustling with new arrivals checking in. “Fine, but I don’t understand. I’ve gotta go. Josh is picking me up on a scooter soon.”

  “What?!!!”

  Heading for the stairs, I mutter, mind still on Will, “I said he was being cool.”

  “Hold on, Tempest Tuck, you’re going to ride on the back of Josh’s scooter in Italy?!!”

  Will shouts, “Hey! I thought you said it wasn’t Tempest!”

  “Will, hang on, okay?!”

  “Dad got her to ride on a scooter with him? That’s great!”

  On the second floor, I stop walking. “Why is he so excited?”

  Zia stammers, “I, uh, that’s why I didn’t want to say it was you. Because, uh, Will is really hoping that you two might get together. Crazy, I know.”

  My chest caves in, heart melted. “Oh no! Poor guy. No wonder you lied! Because that’ll never happen.”

  “Yeah…”

  Continuing to the third floor, my steps are slowed by a growing sense of longing, one I don’t want to think about. Not here. Not at all. My voice is quieted by the struggle against it. “I have to go change, Zia. Let Will down easy for me, please. Tell him, I don’t know…tell him…there’s no way his father is ready for anything like that.”

  Zia whispers, “I’m not sure if he’ll believe me.”

  We say our goodbyes, and I hang up, unlocking my door in a hurry, tears jumping to my eyes and I don’t want to know why.

  Josh, why did you have to choose my retreat to heal, when the more time I spend with you, the more I want…you.

 

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