by Amy Andrews
“Yeah, good point.” Drew grimaced. “Then I think we should call Winona. I bet she’d have some ideas.”
“We’re not getting Winona in on this,” Arlo said, his voice brooking no argument.
Drew shot a doleful look in Arlo’s direction. “Fine, then,” he said. “Where are all your ideas?”
Arlo scowled, pressing his lips together as he obviously scoured his brain. Suddenly, his face brightened. “This whole thing…it started with Tinder, right?”
Tucker nodded. “Yeah.” Della sitting at his bar choosing a profile pic had been the catalyst for everything that had followed.
“So…let’s go back to the beginning.”
…
Della kicked off her shoes the next afternoon after work and sank onto the couch. Betty leaped up, being her usual enthusiastically affectionate self, and Della hugged her tight, trying not to think about her date with Bo last night being a total bust. It had been pleasant enough. She’d enjoyed his company, but her heart just hadn’t been in it. It hadn’t been in anything since last Saturday, when Tucker had stomped all over it with his casual dismissal of their relationship.
She’d been barely putting one foot in front of the other ever since. And she’d cried. A lot. But she’d been determined to go through with the date, to prove to Tucker that she was just fine.
Except, he hadn’t been at the bar, and she’d realized as soon as they’d stepped inside The Lumberjack that going ahead with a date she didn’t really want to be on to rub another man’s nose in her love life wasn’t being fair to Bo. And he’d been a total gentleman and completely understanding when she’d told him she hadn’t been honest, that there was someone else.
He’d have been well within his rights to be pissed, but he’d simply smiled, said “Lucky guy,” and dropped her off at home.
And now here she was at four o’clock in the afternoon, with just her dog for company and no prospect of Tucker coming around later and her heart bleeding all over the floor, and she wanted nothing more than to get into her bed and pull the covers over her head.
But she wouldn’t do that ever again.
Getting a grip of herself, she sat, displacing a dozing Betty. Enough tears. She wouldn’t mope or fall into some kind of depression. She’d spent too many years inside her head, and she wouldn’t go there again. Not when she had all the tools she needed to stop that kind of slide, and especially not when she’d been through worse and survived.
She’d get through her first true broken heart, too.
First thing Monday, she would make an extra appointment to see Selena, and in the meantime, she would not sit around feeling sorry for herself.
As if the universe knew she needed a friend, her phone rang. It was Ruth. “Hey,” Della greeted.
“Just ringing to make sure you’re not lying around in a puddle over there?”
Della had caught Ruth up with the ins and outs of her love life—such as it was—at work today, which had included an outburst of tears, so it was very sweet of her to check in. “I’m fine. I’ve decided no more tears.”
“Good. Really good. Now…time to get back on that horse.”
Della laughed. “I might need more than a week.”
“Nope. Absolutely not. The best way to get over a guy is to find another one to have a good time with, and there’s no time like the present. Get back on Tinder. You never know.”
“Tinder? Ugh.” Della had been more than pleased to not have anything to do with the dating app while she and Tucker had been fooling around. Did she really want to go back?
“Yes.”
“I don’t know, Ruth.”
“Look…just see what’s out there. If nothing else, you can get a laugh out of the bios, right? I can come over later and help. I’ll bring wine.”
It was on the tip of Della’s tongue to say no, but she’d just resolved not to feel sorry for herself, and it wasn’t like anybody else was likely to drop by. Not anymore. “Okay, yeah. I’d like that.”
“Yaaas!” The genuine enthusiasm in Ruth’s voice made Della laugh. “I’ll see you about seven?”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
Della ended the call, feeling better. Before she could talk herself out of it, she reactivated the Tinder app, thankful that she’d listened to Tucker that night and not deleted it from her phone altogether. The man had been good for something, at least.
She blinked as about a hundred notifications flashed up and then settled into the couch. They would keep her busy for a while, and that suited her just fine. Except one of the first notifications she came across was from Tucker.
So…he’d also reactivated his account. Ack! She really wished she didn’t know that. Della stared at his face for the longest time, ignoring how much it hurt to do so. She hadn’t seen him all week, and she missed him despite everything. Missed his big lumberjack head and those prickly whiskers of his and the way he smiled like that, with those dimples on display.
Betty whined as she shoved her nose at the screen and licked Tucker’s face. “Yeah, Betty Boop.” Della petted the dog’s head. “I miss the jackass, too.”
Her hand hovered over the screen, trembling a little as she debated about whether to open it or not, but, putting on her big girl panties, she took a deep breath and tapped on the notification.
It took her a second or two to realize his bio had changed—dramatically. It was very different to the short one-sentence bio from the past. And what she read there just about stopped her heart in her chest.
Things I am—
An idiot of the first order
Really fucking sorry I screwed up
Becoming disconcertingly attached to a red-and-black lacy thong
Hopelessly in love with my best friend’s sister
Things she is not—
Incapable of making her own decisions
Too young
Only temporary
My dirty little secret
Things to do—
Confess all to her brother. Check.
Grovel on a public platform. Check.
Take her to Disneyland. Tickets purchased. Check.
Tell her I love her. ASAP.
Tears streamed down Della’s face. He loved her? He loved her. He’d told Arlo about them! That had to be love, right? He wanted to take her to Disneyland. Her heart, which had been a broken-down, crumbled mess, barely beating enough to keep her alive, kicked to life.
He loved her. But…
Tucker overcoming his stuff didn’t miraculously mean she could overcome hers. He’d told her he’d hang the sun in the room for her if she needed, but really, how practical was that? It might be fine for a night or two. A short fling—sure. But forever? That was a lot of nights in the land of the midnight sun.
She’d come up with this Della 2.0 plan with no permanent commitment in mind. With the fervent belief that she would always be just a little bit too damaged to take that step into commitment with someone, and she’d been fine with that. She wasn’t looking for gold. Silver was enough. Hell, bronze would be fine. She was better off alone, and she understood that asking a guy to sacrifice anything for her was too much to ask.
And then Tucker had offered her the sun. And she’d fallen in love with him. As he had—apparently—with her.
God knew she wanted that. She wanted to throw caution to the wind and just let go for once. But this wasn’t a wild gamble on an outside horse or an all-in bet in Vegas. This was forever.
Could she get past her hang-ups? She wanted to. God…she wanted to.
She picked up her phone, feeling the bravest she’d ever felt in her life, which included talking to strangers she didn’t know about the assaults she’d suffered. Maybe this wouldn’t work out. Maybe she and Tuck were a pipe dream that would never actually work in reality.
A bet
ter in her fantasies than reality type of thing.
But she had to try. She had to find out. She’d never be able to move on with the rest of her life if she didn’t show some courage here. She’d been brave before in much more dire circumstances.
She could do it again.
He picked up on the second ring. “Della?”
God, he sounded so good. “Tucker.”
“Are you okay?”
The concern in his voice was palpable. “I’m fine. I’ve just seen your Tinder profile.”
A few seconds’ pause on his end felt like a minute. “Already? I figured it might take a few days.”
The thought that she might never have seen it if it wasn’t for Ruth hit her. “And what was your plan if I didn’t see it at all?”
“We were just strategizing that. Drew likes the idea of putting it on the billboard coming into town.”
Della laughed, surprising herself. Definitely not his dirty little secret, then. Which made her ridiculously happy, considering there was so much they had to talk about. “I think we should talk. Are you at work?”
“Bryce started early. He can take over. I’ll come to you. Be there in five.”
The phone went dead in her ear, and Della blinked at it, her heart pounding, her blood whooshing as fast and frantic as river rapids through all her pulse points. One way or another, the question of her and Tucker would be sorted today.
She wondered absently if she should change. Have a quick shower, put on some makeup, and slip into something more comfortable. But realistically, she didn’t have the time, and all she was really capable of was sitting on the couch, petting Betty, and praying.
Betty barked the second she heard the low rumble of his pickup pulling into the curb, and by the time Della had crossed to the door, Tucker was on the other side. Her heart leaped at the sight of him when she pulled it open. He was standing there in his usual jeans and T-shirt, his hair a little messy, like he might have been shoving his fingers through it—a lot.
It felt like she hadn’t laid eyes on him for a whole year as every cell in her body went into paroxysms of joy. Betty barked and leaped up on his legs, vying for his attention, and Della couldn’t blame her one little bit.
“You told Arlo,” she said on a half whisper, ignoring Betty’s yips, her hand still around the doorknob.
He nodded, leaning into the doorframe, shoving his hands in his pockets as if he knew there were things to talk about before he could touch her. “I did.”
“What did you say?”
“I said, I’m in love with your sister.”
Della grinned even though she knew she shouldn’t. There was more than this to overcome, but just hearing those words kicked her pulse up a notch. “You’re still here and remarkably unscathed, so I’m assuming it went better than you thought.”
He gave a half laugh. “Yeah. But it wouldn’t have mattered if it hadn’t. It needed to be said. You’re not my dirty little secret, Della. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way. Sorry for everything. For pushing you away, for acting like I knew better. I only ever wanted the best for you. I just…never thought it could be me.”
“You were an idiot of the first order.”
He nodded gravely. “Yes.”
“So was I. I know you didn’t think I was your dirty secret. I was just…angry. And I’m sorry that I was a brat who constantly pushed you and pushed you. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place, and I didn’t appreciate that enough.”
“You weren’t a brat. And I’m pleased you pushed me.”
He held his hand up palm down between them. It trembled slightly. “God…look at me. I’m shaking.”
Della smiled and held out her hand to show him her tremor. They smiled at each other as they dropped their hands. “You love me?” she asked softly.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I do. I’ve loved you for a long time. Since before the whole wingman thing. I was just in denial and then too chickenshit to admit it in case you didn’t reciprocate.”
“I’m not an easy person to love. I have issues…baggage. I honestly understand why and frankly couldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to take that on.”
“The lights?”
She nodded. “I don’t know if that will ever get any better. I mean, I’ve come a long way on lots of fronts, but that… I just don’t know. It’s not conducive to a harmonious life, and I’ve mostly come to terms with it.”
“Is that why you’ve set out this course where you stay footloose and fancy free? Because you’re afraid no one can accept you as you are?”
“It’s a big ask. They shouldn’t have to.”
“Della.” His voice was almost a croon when he reached for her cheek and cupped it. She rubbed her cheek into his palm because she couldn’t have stopped herself even if she’d tried. “People make all kinds of allowances for the people they love. Would you reject me if I needed the same considerations?”
She shook her head. “Of course not.” Of course she wouldn’t.
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Right.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes.
“I love you, Della. All of you. Your past and your present. I’m sorry that I’m not guy number twenty or whatever the magical number might be, and I understand if you want to keep going until you meet him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I hate number twenty with the fire of a thousand suns, but I understand. I love you enough to let you go. But I needed to let you know how I felt first. I know it might not be smooth sailing, but I don’t care. I’m in. I’m all the way in.”
Della’s heart swelled. “You love me.”
“Yeah.”
“I love you, too.”
His face lit up, slowly at first, but by the time his dimples were on full flash it was like a beam of sunlight had him in its shaft. “Yeah? You love me, too?”
“Yeah,” Della whispered, her pulse tripping. “You didn’t know?”
He shrugged. “I—didn’t dare hope.”
She looked at him for the longest time. “I don’t need number twenty. And I definitely can’t promise you smooth sailing. But there’s no one I’d rather have by my side. In stormy waters and in calm. I’m in, too. All the way in.”
Della wasn’t foolish enough to think it would all be sunshine and unicorns. But they had each other and people who loved them and wanted them to be happy. And psychotherapy. She’d been strong enough to get through the emotional wringer of the last three years, so why wouldn’t she be strong enough to look beyond those three years, to look to her future and be brave enough to let someone love her?
Truly love her.
“Well, that is…” He smiled, his eyes dancing with delight. “Good news. Hell, it’s great news.”
Della slid her hand to the front of his shirt, curled her fingers into it, and pulled him inside, pushing the door shut behind them. There was a gleam in his eyes she very much liked the look of, and he was big and broad and solid beneath her hand, and his hair was ruffled and sexy as hell.
She wound her arms around his neck, rising up on her tiptoes. “We’ve been idiots.”
“Yes, we have.”
“Let’s not do that again.”
“Let’s not,” he agreed readily, his hands sliding around her waist, bringing her against the hard length of his body—right where she wanted to be. “Let’s promise we’ll tell each other everything, always. For the rest of our lives.”
“The rest of our lives?” Della pressed herself against the burgeoning ridge of his erection, loving the change in his eyes as delight turned to desire. “I like the sound of that.”
“Mmm,” he murmured, lowering his head, his gaze fixed on her mouth. “Me too.”
A sudden knock at the door had them both freezing. “Who could that be?” Della whispered.
Tucker shrugged
as he untwined himself reluctantly and strode to the door. Della followed, standing just behind him and to the left. It was Mrs. Doyle standing on the doorstep, her arms folded, her foot tapping impatiently.
“Tucker,” she greeted briskly as she nodded at Della.
“Mrs. Doyle,” he acknowledged.
“I thought that was you, but you appear to have arrived empty-handed. You haven’t been around for a while, which means I’m running real low on birdseed, and I thought we had an…” She flicked a gaze at Della. “Understanding.”
Della might have been pretty damn happy in love right now, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t annoyed both at Mrs. Doyle’s gall and timing and completely astounded by the woman’s giant cojones.
She wasn’t that happy in love.
“Tell everyone, Mrs. Doyle,” she said, pushing in front of Tucker. “Tell all of Credence, tell the entire state of Colorado. Hell, tell the whole damn country if you want. Tucker Daniels and I are in love. Shout it from the rooftops.”
Della went to shut the door, but Tucker stopped it momentarily. “I’ll bring a bag for Cheech and Chong tomorrow.”
And then he shut the door gently in Eadie’s gawping face.
“You’re a softie,” she accused with a laugh.
“Oh no I’m not,” he growled.
And proceeded to demonstrate as he pushed her against the door and kissed her for a very, very long time.
Epilogue
Della breathed in warm, Californian air from the top of the Pixar Pal-A-Round. They’d spent two days exploring Disneyland and had crossed into Disney California Adventure Park to see what it had to offer. She wasn’t a huge fan of heights, but a Ferris wheel she could handle.
Tucker had suggested they get in one of the red cars, which were fixed and didn’t roll around on their own track like the others, and, judging by the screams coming from the other gondolas, she was grateful they had. She’d been shook, rattled, and rolled enough this past couple of days. It was nice to just sit and enjoy the soaring view, the sunshine, the breeze in her hair, and the company of the man sitting beside her.
“I can’t believe I’m here,” she said, snuggling her head onto Tucker’s shoulder.