“She won’t,” Jordan says quietly, with all the assurance of someone who’s got the love of his life by his side and has zero fears.
I don’t know what to do.
“If she does reject you, then at least you tried.” Susanna smiles up at me. “And you can’t regret that. You have to at least try, right?”
She’s right. They’re all right. But when can I talk to her? Now? In the middle of my parents’ party? They haven’t even cut the cake yet.
“I’ll be back,” I tell my friends just before I leave them to walk across the room.
“Go get her!” Susanna yells after me, making me crack a smile.
The first real smile I’ve had in days.
I search the crowded room, but I can’t find her. And so many of the women are wearing similar dresses, it’s hard to discern who’s who. I find her sister, but Brooke tells me she hasn’t really talked to Maisey since she arrived.
It’s like she’s disappeared.
I head for the outside patio and that’s where I find her. Hiding in the farthest corner, away from everyone, sitting on the rock ledge, the 1920s flapper clutching her iPhone—such a contradiction.
A beautiful one.
My heart cracks at seeing her, and I’m afraid it won’t close back up until she agrees that we can make this work.
With determined steps, I make my way over to Maisey.
The girl I’m in love with.
The girl I can’t let go.
“Hey,” I say quietly when I’m standing in front of her.
She glances up from her phone, blinking in seeming shock when she realizes it’s me. “Hey.”
“You look beautiful.” The words trip out of me, like I can’t contain them. But it’s true. She’s gorgeous in her dress, her hair, her dark eyes and ruby red lips.
I want to kiss all that lipstick off her mouth.
“Thank you.” Her cheeks are the faintest pink and her gaze rushes over me. “You look handsome.”
I’d planned on taking photos of the two of us together. Maybe even taking a few photos with my parents, my family.
What a dumb sap I am.
“Thanks.” I run a nervous hand through my hair, glancing around to make sure no one is nearby before I say, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Dare I think her expression turns hopeful? “Sure,” she says, nodding toward the empty spot beside her. “Sit down.”
I do as she says, sitting way closer to her than I need to. So close our thighs press against each other, and I can smell her delectable scent. “Are you having fun?” I ask.
“No,” she says with a sad smile. God, she’s killing me. “Not really.”
“Then why did you come?” I want to touch her. Reach out and grab her hand. Caress her cheek. Touch her hair. Something. Anything.
She makes me yearn. Fuck, she makes me desperate.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs, looking away from me. “I thought I was doing the right thing, coming to this party and celebrating your parents. Spend some time with my friends, dress up in a fun costume and drink lots of alcohol. But I’m here, and it’s like I don’t want to talk to anyone. No one really wants to talk to me either. I guess I’d rather be alone in my misery.”
“Would you rather not talk to me?” I will get up and walk away from her right now if that’s what she wants. I don’t mean to upset her, but I have to give this—us—at least one more try.
I just…I have to.
“No, I want to talk to you. I do. It’s just…” She shrugs again. “I’m sure you’re mad at me. Why would you want to talk to me?”
I give in to my urges and grab her hand. Her fingers are trembling and I interlock them with mine, squeezing her hand tight. “I’m not mad at you.”
Maisey gazes up at me, her brown eyes full of so much sadness. “You’re not?”
I shake my head, trying to find the right words to say to her. I don’t want to screw this up. “I could never be mad at you. Not for long, at least.”
The barest smile curves her lips, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Maise.” I take a deep breath, hating the nerves that suddenly fill me. I can do this. I can tell her how much she means to me. “I know you said you wanted to end this—us, but I’m not ready to let you go yet.”
Now she’s frowning at me. But she’s still not talking.
“You mean too much to me. You always have.” I squeeze her hand again and try to smile, but it proves difficult. I’m too damn nervous. “I’m in love with you, Maisey.”
Her mouth drops open and she pulls her hand out of my grip.
“I am,” I tell her before she can say anything else. Tell me I’m crazy or whatever. “I don’t think I ever got over you. I know I never got over you. Not when I was eighteen and like an idiot I broke up with you. Not after all these years, when I didn’t know what you were doing, or where you were, yet you were here all this time, almost like you were…waiting for me.”
“I was definitely not waiting for you,” she retorts, sounding irritated.
Her protest feels so familiar I want to laugh. Typical Maisey.
“Fine, you weren’t waiting for me.” I bump her shoulder with mine. “Listen, I told myself I couldn’t commit to anyone because I was too busy. I moved too much, I worked too much. How could I ever have time for someone? Have time for a serious relationship?”
“Then…how can you find time for a relationship now?” she asks, her voice faint.
“I didn’t have time then because I didn’t want to make time. No one I met over the years could ever compare to you, Maise.” I reach out with my free hand and brush a strand of hair away from her cheek. “You’re it for me. You’re the only one I want. The only one I need.”
She remains quiet for a while and the silence nearly kills me. Tears my nerves to shreds. I’m bouncing my knee, my heart is racing, and I feel like I’m going to explode from the waiting. The anticipation.
The fear that she’s going to tell me to fuck off once and for all.
Chapter Seventeen
Maisey
Tucker just said that he’s in love with me. That I’m it for him. I’m the only one he needs.
My heart feels like it’s going to burst with happiness. Though I still have a few concerns…
“You live in San Francisco, Tucker,” I say, my voice quiet, my thoughts in utter chaos. “And I live here. In Montana. I don’t know how we’re ever going to see each other.”
“We can make it work.” He scoots even closer to me, and his hard, muscular thigh burns through my sequined skirt. “If we want it bad enough, we can make anything work.”
I want to believe him so badly. “What about all those crazy women who throw themselves at you?” When he gives me a confused look, I continue, “Your fans. I know you have them. You’re gorgeous. You’re famous. I’m sure you have crazed fan girls everywhere.”
He is full blown grinning. “Don’t worry, none of them notice me. They all love Tuttle more.”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes, leaning into him. “I won’t be able to go to all your games.”
“You can come to any game you want.” He grabs my hand once more and lifts it to his mouth, dropping a kiss on my knuckles. “And I’m busy only about seven months out of the year. The other five months, I can be here most of the time.”
“Really?” That doesn’t sound so bad.
Oh my God, am I crazy for thinking this could work?
“Really,” he says, his voice firm, his gaze…intense.
This man. This beautiful, wonderful, funny, sweet man, is in love with me. He’s always been in love with me. This is the second chance that I never thought I’d get, and I should…
I should.
Take it.
“I’m in love with you too,” I murmur, and his eyes widen the moment the words pass my lips.
“Wait a minute. What did you just say? Repeat that again.” He cups his free hand around his ear and leans in close
r.
“Stop.” I shove his shoulder, but it’s like trying to push a brick wall. He is so freaking built. “You heard me.”
His smile fades and his expression turns sincere, his voice softening when he confesses, “I really need to hear you say it again, Maise.”
Never taking my eyes from his, I repeat, “I’m in love with you, Tucker.”
His smile is so wide I’m afraid he’s going to strain a face muscle. “I love you too.”
“And I want to try and make this work. I do.” I take a deep breath, a faint laugh escaping me. “It’ll probably be a little crazy for a while, and I might get mad at you sometimes. And you’ll probably get mad at me too, but I love you too much to let you go.”
He lets go of my hand and cups my face with his palms, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. “You really mean it, don’t you?”
I nod, my smile trembling, my eyes filling with tears. “I mean it.”
His mouth lands on mine, stealing any other words I might’ve said. Stealing my breath. Stealing my heart.
There’s nothing else for me to say anyway.
Chapter Eighteen
Maisey
Six months later
Have you heard from him yet?
Chewing on my lower lip, I study the text from my sister, wishing I could give her a different answer.
Nope.
She immediately texts back.
You think he’s all right? It’s snowing really hard right now.
Ugh. I could punch my sister for trying to make me worry more than I already am.
Thanks for being so positive!
My reply is full of sarcasm. Hopefully she realizes that.
I’m sorry! I’m worried about him, she replies.
So am I. I’ll let you know when he gets home, I type, then toss my phone aside.
Home. The man of my dreams is on his way home, to our new house we share in Cunningham Falls, driving in an almost-blizzard to get here for Christmas.
I can’t wait to see him, and after I hug him, I might sock him in the stomach for making me worry so bad.
I told him he could take his time. It’s only the twenty-third. We still have another twenty-four hours before Christmas is here, but he said no way. He had to get here tonight.
And so I wait. It’s soon past ten o’clock, the roads are probably a nightmare, the snow is starting to fall even harder, and I want to cry.
But then light flashes in the window facing the street and I hear a car engine pulling into our driveway. Relief floods me, making me weak, and I rise from the couch, practically running to the door in the kitchen that leads out to the garage.
The door swings open minutes later and I rush forward, tackle hugging him as tight as I can.
“Well, hello to you too,” he says, amusement lacing his voice as he wraps me up in his thick arms.
“I was worried sick.” My voice is muffled against his chest, and I burrow my face closer. He smells so good. I’ve missed him. I always miss him. Having him come home after being away is the best thing ever.
His leaving is also the worst thing ever.
But we’re making it work. Because we love each other.
“I know. Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have driven home tonight, but I had to. I wanted to see you.” He grabs hold of my arms and steps away so he can take me in. He whistles low, shaking his head. “You are a sight for sore eyes.”
“I missed you,” I admit just before he sweeps me back into his arms and thoroughly kisses me.
God, I love his thorough kisses.
“Come on, let’s go sit by the tree.” He hooks his arm around my shoulders and guides me back into the living room, falling onto the couch and dragging me with him. I rest my head on his chest as we both stare at the decorated Christmas tree sitting in front of the window, the multi-colored lights twinkling.
He reaches over and turns off the lamp, the tree the only thing glowing in the room, and the sigh that escapes him is full of contentment.
“I could sit like this with you forever,” he admits, his mouth right at my temple before he kisses me there.
“That sounds dreamy,” I agree in a faint whisper.
“What do you want for Christmas?” he asks me minutes later, startling me. I thought he’d fallen asleep. I was almost asleep myself, lulled by the sound of his steady heartbeat.
“I already have everything I could ever want.” I tilt my head back, smiling up at him. “I don’t need anything else.”
“Not even a trip to Maui?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “In February? For Valentine’s Day? What do you think?”
“That’s a lot of questions to ask me right now,” I tease and he rolls his eyes. “I think that sounds amazing.”
“I think you’re amazing.” He kisses me again, his lips lingering. “I love you, Maise.”
“I love you too, Tucker.”
And I do.
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Nothing Without You Page 9