To Be Your Wife

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To Be Your Wife Page 6

by Rae Kennedy


  Haley: I don’t want to talk about it yet but thank you. Sorry I’ve been MIA

  Me: It’s understandable. Maybe we can talk after break?

  Haley: Sure

  * * *

  Thanksgiving is my favorite. The house is filled with people and laughter. My youngest cousins run through the kitchen, stealing food from the corner of the cutting board while my mom and aunts pretend not to notice. My brothers and dad are out on the lawn teaching my nephews how to properly throw a football.

  My mom has been baking since sunrise and the whole house smells like butter, apple pie, and rosemary roasted turkey. She lets me stir the cranberry sauce but thankfully doesn’t ask for my help with anything else. Gracie and my sisters-in-law are already on side-dish duty, ensuring the mashed potatoes are the perfect consistency. There’s a debate on how lumpy is too lumpy.

  I sit with my grandma and help her with the crossword puzzle in the newspaper. She can’t see the words very clearly anymore, but she would never admit to it.

  During dinner, we are spread over three tables, elbow-to-elbow. The volume is a solid roar as about ten conversations happen simultaneously with the occasional shriek of laughter or yell for some food to be passed in this or that direction.

  I’m sitting between my dad and Gracie. Dad is chatting with Uncle Mick, his brother, about the upcoming shipment and making sure all the paperwork is in order. Mick looks a lot like my dad, almost as tall with the same kind eyes, but older, a bit thinner, and with more gray hair.

  I chat with my aunts and uncles and cousins about what we are all up to nowadays, doing my best to catch up with everyone. Each discussion morphs into something new as another family member joins in or leaves to tend to a child or their drink.

  We eventually end up huddled in the living room, crowded on the couch, perched on armrests, and sitting cross-legged on the floor to watch the football game. It’s not long before round two of eating commences—or for some, round four.

  It’s much earlier than it feels when I finally head up to my room. I’m stuffed and in need of a coma.

  Tuck: Haley and I talked today after dinner

  Me: Yusss!

  I send about twenty smiley face emojis.

  Tuck: She told me she doesn’t hate me

  Me: Of course she doesn’t

  Tuck: I will never doubt your wisdom again

  Me: Good. I’ve got it in writing, so it’s basically legally binding. Right, Mr. Lawyer?

  Tuck: 100% legit

  Tuck: When are you getting back in town?

  Me: Sunday. Are you anxious to see me?

  Tuck: Maybe. You want to run Monday morning and then come over for dinner that night? I think Haley could use the company.

  Me: I’ll be there

  CHAPTER 6

  I answer the door and Tuck is there in his hoodie and black man-leggings.

  “Hey, you,” he says quietly, his smile reaching his eyes.

  And it feels like it’s been more than a week since I last saw him. Even his hair has noticeably grown. I hug him around the middle and his arms are instantly tight around me, his chin resting on my head. I am completely enveloped in him.

  It’s still dark as we run in silence, Tuck’s steps echoing mine, the soles of his feet hitting the concrete behind me. By the end of the run, we are both heaving in the cold air as we walk up the three flights of stairs.

  “Just when I thought I was done being sore,” Tuck says when we reach my door.

  “Come in. I’ll help you stretch.”

  We spread out on the living room floor and stretch our quads. It’s made more interesting when Gilbert comes out to investigate. Seeing us on the floor, he decides we will make for perfect climbing practice. He meows quietly in my face, tickling me with his whiskers before launching himself off my shoulder and into Tuck’s lap.

  “This is Gilbert.”

  Tuck chuckles, unperturbed as the kitten starts grooming himself. When we move to sit across from each other, Gil skitters away. With our legs out straight, heel to heel and holding hands, Tuck and I take turns pulling the other forward. It’s a nice calf and hamstring stretch, and I can’t help but let out a little noise of pleasure when he pulls and holds me in a deep stretch.

  “Wide leg stretch,” I say, shifting positions so our feet are still together but our legs are out to the side in a split position.

  “I don’t think I’m this flexible.”

  I chuckle and pull him toward me.

  “Fuck. My groin!” he gasps.

  “I don’t think you’re doing it right,” an amused voice says from the hall. Nick and Caleb come into the living room, Gilbert immediately running figure eights around their ankles. “You know Court, you’ve got a room right over there,” Nick says, still entertained. Then his face lights up. “Yo! Caleb, this is that guy I was telling you about who played for Notre Dame!”

  Tuck gets up, a bit gingerly, and introduces himself to Caleb. Nick is practically jumping up and down as he tries to set up a man-date with Tuck at the student rec center. Caleb, almost as tall as Tuck, is less impressed but says he’s up to play ball anytime as well. It’s more of a challenge when Caleb says it, but Tuck doesn’t seem to be bothered.

  “It was nice to meet you.” Tuck lifts his chin to Caleb. “And see you again...”

  “Nick!”

  “Nick, right. I’ve got to get going.”

  Tuck turns and I walk him to the door.

  “We still on for tonight? Seven-ish?” he asks.

  “Perfect.”

  He flashes me a smile just long enough to catch a glimpse of his left dimple before he turns and heads down the stairs.

  “Seeing him tonight too?” Nick raises an eyebrow.

  “Shut up about it. You’re the one with a man-crush.”

  “Fuck yeah. At least I’ll admit it.”

  * * *

  “How are you doing?”

  I give Haley a tight squeeze even though she stays a bit rigid. She only gives me a small smile, but I am so happy to see her. Tuck is out getting food and I take the opportunity to catch up.

  “I’m fine. I mean, I’ll be fine. I had my two week over-dramatic pity party and now I need to get over it. Right?”

  “You don’t need to do anything. Take as long as you need.” I know she and Cade hadn’t been officially together very long, but she was dangerously in love with the guy. From what she’d told me about their relationship, I can’t blame her.

  “Thankfully the next two weeks of school and then finals will be a good distraction.”

  “Tell me about it. I’ll be so glad when this semester is over, then just one more to go. Hey! You’re coming to the party Friday after finals, right?” We throw a party at our place to celebrate the end of every semester. “It will be so much fun!”

  “I...maybe.”

  I grin at her and she gives me a knowing look. Haley’s not huge on parties.

  “I said maybe.” Her tone is serious, but her eyes are smiling for the first time tonight.

  Tuck brings in our food and we all sit on the floor, eating out of the Chinese takeout boxes. I notice Haley is mostly pushing around her sweet and sour pork, but I don’t intend to point it out.

  Tuck’s beef and broccoli smells so good. The beef is sliced thin and glistening with garlic and soy sauce in between the bright, green broccoli.

  He sees me ogling his food.

  “There’s plenty—you can have some.” He lifts his container toward me.

  Well, I can’t not have some now.

  I get a nice piece of meat and a small floret in a good grip with my chopsticks and carefully bring them to my waiting open mouth. I’m not very skilled with chopsticks. And I probably look like a largemouth bass.

  Out of the corner of my eye I catch Tuck snatching some of my chow mein and stuffing it in his mouth.

  “Hey, you thief!”

  He shakes his head, rapidly chewing. “I didn’t take anything.”

  M
y broccoli falls to the wood floor with a wet thud.

  “Dammit.”

  Tuck laughs, then coughs as he sort of chokes, his mouth still full of my delicious chow mein. He gets it all down then lets out a final cough and a noodle comes flying out of his nose. It’s about an inch long, just dangling on his face.

  I can’t. I am laughing so hard I can’t breathe. My side is aching and then I let out a loud snort.

  Tuck loses it. Haley is laughing now, too.

  My laughing turns to silent sobs punctuated by the occasional wheeze.

  Haley goes to bed shortly after we’re done eating. I should probably be responsible and go home too, maybe catch up on some reading. But Tuck and I just sort of keep talking and before I realize it, it’s after eleven and now I really need to leave.

  “Oh hey, Court?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I have to be in to work early tomorrow, so I won’t be able to run in the morning. Unless you want to run at like four—”

  I’m pondering this.

  “—which, I don’t want to do! Forget I even mentioned it. Off the table,” he says, shaking his head.

  “Okay, Tucker.”

  “Shit. Now I feel like you’re disappointed because you’re full-naming me.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Good. I’d still like to see you though. Want to come over for dinner tomorrow? It was great to see Haley smiling again.”

  * * *

  On my run the next morning I realize I’ve turned down their street only after I come upon Tuck and Haley’s house. For some reason, I look for Tuck’s red truck.

  It’s not there.

  Relief sweeps through me.

  I didn’t actually think he’d lie about working early to get out of running but it’s nice to know for sure.

  What am I doing here?

  You’re being creepy again, Court.

  * * *

  That night at dinner, Haley eats. She joins in on the conversation more too. Tuck and I still do most of the talking, but it’s good progress.

  Tuck and I run every morning the rest of the week, and I come over to hang out with him and Haley every evening. He hasn’t been getting home until seven or eight at night, which gives me plenty of time to study before heading over. It’s a welcomed break for all of us.

  Haley starts yawning around nine and heads to bed shortly thereafter.

  This should be my cue to go.

  But Tuck and I usually end up chatting for another hour or so. About nothing particularly special. Music, sports, being unusually tall, that kind of random stuff.

  * * *

  Friday night, I’m out with Nick, Caleb, and a few of our friends at a local sports bar to watch some fights on the big screen when Tuck texts that he’ll be home in about twenty.

  “Hey guys, I’m gonna go.”

  “The main fight hasn’t even started,” Caleb comments.

  “I know, I’m sorry, but I’m going to go hang out with Haley. She’s going through a breakup—”

  “Haley and her boyfriend broke up?” Nick pops his head up. “You didn’t tell me this.”

  “I didn’t think you’d care.” He’s met her once.

  “I don’t. So...is she going to be at our party next week?”

  “I think so.”

  “Cool. Whatever.” Nick takes a big sip of his beer and turns back to the fight.

  I wave goodbye, throw on my coat, and head out to my Jeep.

  Haley is watching a movie when I get to their house. I sit on the couch with her and we chat. It’s not my favorite type of comedy, but she’s enjoying it.

  When Tuck comes home, I think he’s going to go change, but he loosens his tie, unbuttons his shirt cuffs, then squeezes onto the couch next to us, forcing me to scoot over to make room. His knee rests against my thigh for the rest of the movie.

  When the credits roll, Haley looks exhausted and says goodnight.

  Tuck watches her disappear down the hallway.

  “Man, breakups suck,” he says. “I almost forgot how much until I got dumped last month.” He looks over at me, unbuttoning his collar. “I guess it’s something everyone has to go through, right?”

  “I’ve never been dumped.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Nope. No guy who had you would be stupid enough to let you go willingly.” He gives me a saccharine smile.

  “Well, I’ve only ever had one boyfriend.”

  “Now, that surprises me.” He tilts his head, studying me. “Was it long-term then?”

  I nod. “He was my best friend growing up. About the time our hormones kicked in we realized we wanted to be more than friends. So, from about fifteen to nineteen.”

  “Wait. You’re graduating grad school this year, so you’re...what, twenty-three? Four?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “You haven’t had a boyfriend in the last four years?”

  “No.”

  A smirk forms on his lips. “A girlfriend?”

  I roll my eyes. Why are all guys so obsessed with the idea of two girls? “No. I’ve dated plenty, but no relationships.”

  “Have you had sex in the last four years? I’m assuming you had sex with your first boyfriend—"

  “Tuck! That isn’t any of your business.”

  “Hey, I did say I was going to try to make you blush.”

  Oh, this conversation is not going to make me blush. No way. “If you really want to know, I have a...” I pause to think of the right word. “Healthy libido.”

  His eyelids hood slightly. “Is that right?”

  “Yep. There have been a few guys in the last four years I’ve had...arrangements with.”

  “Booty calls?”

  “I’d call it friends with benefits.”

  “Fuck buddies?”

  “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it. Do you have a problem with that?”

  He puts his hands up at his sides. “Not at all. I find it interesting you’ve found guys good enough to sleep with but not good enough to be your boyfriend.”

  I shrug.

  “What would it take for a guy to be boyfriend material?”

  We stare at each other for a minute. “I don’t know. I guess he would have to be pretty extraordinary.”

  “Was your ex pretty extraordinary?” He says the last two words with invisible air quotes.

  I nod. “He is. Wes is still one of the best guys I know.”

  Tuck tilts his head to the right. His jaw tightens but his eyes are soft. His eyes are green and hazel and gold and fuck. Why are guys’ eyes so damn pretty sometimes? “Are you still in love with him?”

  I almost don’t register his question as my gaze falls down his straight nose to his full lips. “What?” That’s not a subject I like to dwell on. “You’re getting pretty personal, Tuck.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am.” His lips curl up on one side, but his eyes haven’t left mine. Determined, still seeking.

  “I...I don’t know.” And that’s the truth.

  He nods. “I know the feeling.” He lets out a bear of a yawn, raising his arms over his head, exposing a strip of smooth golden skin between his shirt and waistband. “It’s getting late.”

  “Yeah, I should be going. What time is it?”

  Tuck squints at his phone. “Almost one.”

  Holy crap! It’s one in the morning? I should have left hours ago. We get up off the couch and Tuck follows me to the front door where I’ve left my shoes and purse.

  “You’re still going to make me wake up at an ungodly hour to run tomorrow, too, aren’t you?”

  I cross my arms. “Yup.”

  “You know, I have to get up even earlier to get to your place first to pick you up.”

  “I could run over and meet you here.”

  Tuck furrows his dark brows. “It’s still dark in the mornings. I don’t like the idea of you out running by yourself.”

  I roll my eyes. “I�
��ve done it for years.”

  “I know, but now that I’m your running partner, if anything happened to you, I’d feel responsible.”

  I start to slide my arm into my coat when he smiles.

  “You could just stay the night here.”

  Um, what. “You want me to sleep over?”

  “You have your gym bag in your car, right?”

  “Yes...”

  “Then you’re all set.”

  I am exhausted and the idea of driving home doesn’t excite me.

  “But—” I can’t think of an excuse.

  He gives me a knowing look. I’m being lawyered.

  “I guess I can.”

  “Awesome. Cade came and took all of his stuff so his room is empty, but you can have my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  I look past his shoulder to the apartment-sized sofa in the living room. “Tuck. You are way too tall to lay on that couch. I’ll take the couch.” Though I don’t think I’ll be able to stretch out my legs either.

  “No way. You’re my guest. I’ll sleep on the floor.” He takes the car keys from my grasp and opens the front door. “It’s cold, I’ll go get your bag.”

  Damn him trying to be all gentlemanly and shit. He’s already halfway down the steps to where my car is parked on the curb when I turn around after re-hanging my coat.

  He runs up to the door, the smell of cold on his skin and my bag slung over his shoulder. He has a big grin on his face when he comes in, his chest rising quickly.

  “Tuck, I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor.”

  He waves a hand away. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, and probably too stiff to even go on a run in the morning.”

  “Are you calling me old? I just turned twenty-seven.”

  “Yep, an old man.”

  He raises an eyebrow and grows a devilish smirk.

  He’s about to retort when I add, “We’ll just both sleep in your bed.”

  His smile falls instantly.

  “What?” I ask. I honestly didn’t think he’d have a problem with it. “We’re both adults. We’ll just be sleeping.” And Tuck has a nice, big bed.

  He stands in front of me, still for a minute. I hadn’t realized we were standing quite as close as we are, but now that I have, I want to step back.

 

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