To Be Your Wife

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To Be Your Wife Page 11

by Rae Kennedy


  Tuck is starting to stir. He’ll probably wake up soon. I think about eighteen-year-old Tuck and I’m sad he felt he needed to give up his dream, but glad he ended up in my path—even if he does snore.

  * * *

  Caleb sets me the perfect ball. I jump as high as I can go, throwing all my weight forward and contracting my abs as the heel of my hand hits the volleyball and sends it shooting over the net. The opposing team scrambles but are unable to reach it before it slams to the floor just inside the line.

  “That’s set and match, guys,” Caleb says, using his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. His ebony skin still glistens as he takes a drink from his water bottle.

  I run over to grab my own water and check my phone. No missed texts.

  Tuck is out of town all week for work but has been keeping me entertained with all kinds of stories, from his lost luggage to the horrors of the self-service waffle-maker at his hotel.

  I’ve had more free time in the evenings since I’m not spending them with Tuck—and it’s been nice. Because, while the first week of class was easy, we are now in the middle of week two and assignments are coming in hot.

  But, while the extra time has been welcome, I do miss him on my morning runs.

  And at night.

  I’m still thinking about him every night, imagining him in bed with me—my hand and I have become very close. But I think I’m just missing a warm, male body next to me. Plus, I haven’t had sex in months.

  That’s it—it must be. I just need a release.

  Me: Do you have plans tonight?

  James: I do now

  * * *

  “Uh-uh,” I scold.

  James looks up at me from under his curly locks, a mischievous glint in his dark brown eyes. His lips touch the top swells of my breasts and he has one finger hooked in the cup of my bra, wanting to expose more flesh.

  “Sorry,” he says, flashing me a sideways grin. Always trying to push the limits. But he knows my rules.

  Unfazed, he removes his finger, leaving my bra in place, and continues kissing down my body. When his mouth reaches my navel, his hands slide to my hips, pulling on the fabric and I lift my hips so he can remove my panties. He sits up, devouring my body, and licks his lips.

  Focused between my thighs, he lowers back down and I know he wants to kiss me there too.

  But I reach for the foil packet on the nightstand. “Here,” I say, handing it to him.

  “Okay.” He shrugs, looking a little disappointed I cheated him out of more foreplay, but he shimmies his boxers down and nestles himself between my legs.

  As he begins moving over me, thrusting in, his curly hair hangs down, tickling my face. I turn my head out of the way and I can’t help thinking shorter hair would be better.

  His dick is good, like always, but the motion is making my stomach turn. I shouldn’t have eaten that third slice of pizza, but I was so fucking hungry after our volleyball game.

  “That feel good?” James asks, his voice husky and breathless.

  Oh yeah, right. Back to the sex.

  “Yeah,” I say lightly.

  Should I try to moan or pant or something? I normally don’t have to think about it.

  “Are you getting close?” His words are clipped as his speed increases.

  Um no. But it seems like he may be. I’ve had sex where I didn’t come, but never with James. Will he be upset if I don’t? Should I fake it?

  I close my eyes and try to focus on the moment. I draw my fingers down his back and they land on his bare ass.

  I think about how hot Tuck’s butt looks in his little black boxers and how good it would feel in my hands and I squeeze. What would it be like to have his large body on top of me, skin-to-skin, slipping against one another as he slides into me? How good could Tuck give it to me? He’d fuck me so hard, I just know it.

  I can give it, too, Tuck. And I thrust my hips to meet his as he drives into me. The pleasure starts to coil deep inside, and my breath becomes shallow as I groan beneath him. Yes, fuck me. Tuck, yes.

  His name almost escapes my lips and my eyes shoot open. Shit.

  After James finishes and is cleaning up, I dress in a hurry, feeling more exposed than usual.

  “Hey, we’re all signed up for the tournament next month,” he says, buttoning his jeans.

  “Great, thanks.”

  “Let me know when you and Caleb want to get together and practice some plays. We’ve got three weeks.” He leans down and kisses me on the cheek. “But you can always call me sooner.” He winks and heads for the door.

  A sick feeling twists low in my gut.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Add plenty of salt,” Haley calls from the sink as she snaps the ends off a bunch of asparagus.

  I stare at the pot of boiling water and sprinkle in some salt.

  “More,” Haley says.

  “I told you I can’t cook.”

  She chuckles as she walks over to me. “You’re overthinking it. It’s just boiling potatoes—you can’t mess it up.”

  “That’s what you think.”

  It’s Sunday and Tuck is finally coming home tonight, so we decided to make him his favorite dinner: meatloaf with garlic mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus.

  He walks in the door as Haley is pulling the meatloaf out of the oven and I am trying to mash the potatoes. How can they be too wet and yet too lumpy all at the same time?

  “Smells good in here.” He sets his bag by the door and comes in, looking taller than I remember. He has a few snowflake flurries in his dark hair, and he smiles with deep dimples.

  “My girls.” He hugs Haley around the shoulders and kisses the top of her head before pulling me to him as well. “I missed you.” He kisses the top of my head too, his nose lingering in my hair for a second longer.

  My palms are cold and clammy. It’s been four days since I slept with James. Tuck and I aren’t together, but it feels like a betrayal. Will he be able to tell? Read it on my face?

  After dinner when Tuck asks me quietly if I’m staying the night, I tell him I can’t. He says, “Okay,” nonchalantly and continues to clear the table. He does, however, grimace when I assure him we are still going for a run in the morning.

  As I walk to my car, I send James a text.

  * * *

  My feet tap the pavement. The black sky is trying to turn blue. The glow of streetlights bounces off the newly fallen snow. A brisk wind nips at my ears.

  Tuck’s footsteps echo behind me. He’s kept up with my pace even though I know I’m going faster than usual, only slowing down to avoid ice patches.

  James had initially been excited to come over last night. That changed quickly. I’ve had that same talk with three guys before him. I thought I was prepared.

  The cold air is starting to burn in my lungs. I keep breathing, keep moving my legs, keep hitting the ground.

  He had agreed our arrangement should end as well, but he wanted us to be more. When he confessed his feelings for me, I was stunned.

  I pick up speed. Tuck follows.

  The pain in his eyes when I told him I didn’t feel the same—I keep seeing it over and over again. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I stayed away from relationships precisely for that reason. There weren’t supposed to be feelings.

  As soon as I stop running, I feel like throwing up.

  * * *

  “My brother likes you.”

  “I like him too. He’s a good running partner and he’s fun to hang out with.” I nibble at my gooey cinnamon roll, remembering the first one I had shared with Tuck. I don’t think I’ll be able to order anything else from this restaurant ever again.

  “No, I mean he like-likes you.”

  “Really?”

  He did ask me on a date, but in all the time since, even sharing a bed, he’s never made another move. He hasn’t asked me out again, and even his flirting—now that I know him better—seems like just part of his personality as opposed to something special for
me.

  “Did he tell you that?”

  Haley ponders my question for a moment as she sips her honey tea. “No. But he talks about you all the time. And on nights when you don’t come over for dinner, he mopes.”

  I can’t imagine Tuck walking around, moping for me. But, somehow, I like the thought.

  “Nah. We’re just friends, he knows that.” I think. “Besides, he knows I’m graduating and moving away in May. I’m not looking to start anything right now.”

  She cuts into her stack of blueberry pancakes and looks at me thoughtfully. “Well, make sure he knows. I mean, just...don’t hurt him, okay?”

  Don’t hurt him.

  The words hit me in the stomach like a hot steel poker.

  Don’t hurt him.

  Like I hurt James.

  What about the other guys? Had I hurt them too?

  And Wes? Am I still hurting him?

  Do I chronically lead men on?

  Is that what I’m doing to Tuck?

  * * *

  I stare at his text.

  James: I know it’s last minute. I’m sorry.

  It’s only a week until the three-on-three basketball tournament we do every year for charity. We’ve already paid the registration fees and I was really looking forward to playing, as it will be my last year.

  “While I would be an amazing addition to the team, why are you asking me?” Nick looks puzzled.

  “I just told you why.” His listening skills need work. “James backed out and we need someone quick. You play a good game and we need your help.”

  “Okay, but aren’t you missing the obvious choice?”

  He’s confusing the shit out of me. I give him a look of exasperation. “Obvious choice?”

  “Tuck. The actual basketball player?”

  Tuck? Well duh. It’s completely obvious now. I don’t know why I didn’t think of him immediately. The last couple of weeks, we’ve still been going on runs almost daily, but I haven’t gone over to the house in the evening and I haven’t spent the night. After the fourth night in a row of me turning down his invitation, Tuck stopped asking. It’s for the best, I don’t want to lead him on.

  But he still invades my thoughts when I’m trying to sleep.

  Caleb shakes his head. “We don’t need someone who wants to show off—we need a team player.”

  Nick and Caleb exchange hard looks for what seems like an eternity, then Nick turns to me.

  “Ask Tuck.”

  * * *

  I block the guy in the red fuzzy sweatbands so Tuck can break free. He probably has a clear shot, but he throws the ball out to Caleb who swishes it in the net for a three-pointer, pulling us into the lead.

  “Nice!” Tuck gives Caleb a hard high-five.

  Caleb’s bright smile is genuine. He seems to have forgotten whatever imagined grudge he has against Tuck for the moment. He was reluctant to play with Tuck even throughout our practice yesterday. He only started to warm up to him after Tuck complimented his ball-handling skills. And then his shoes.

  Tuck pulls his shirt off, wiping the sweat off his neck and tosses it to the side as the other team starts back at half-court. Nick and Haley are in the stands. Nick is holding up a sign that says “I’m just here for the balls” and Haley has her camera around her neck.

  Sneakers squeak across the floor and my heart thumps with excitement.

  Tuck intercepts a pass and tosses me the ball as I run toward the basket. I catch the ball and bank the shot seconds before the buzzer sounds and Tuck is immediately there, arms open wide. He pulls me in for a big hug and I don’t even care that my face is pressed up against his slick chest or that my own shirt is damp with sweat. His skin is hot and smells so musky I get dizzy in it.

  I look up at him and his eyes are already on me. We are both out of breath, our chests heaving. Did he just look at my mouth? And now I’m biting my lip. Fuck.

  Caleb runs up with our water bottles and Tuck turns to him, keeping one arm around me as he gulps his water down.

  “You ready to do that again?” Caleb asks us.

  “Hell yes!” Tuck says, still catching his breath. He tightens his arm around my shoulder.

  We win the next game and we are in the semi-finals.

  We win that game too.

  In the championship round, we lose by four points to a team of freshman guys. Freshman! I can’t even believe it.

  “I knew you were competitive, but shit.” Tuck chuckles at me.

  “I’m not, I just...that game was lame. And I know it’s for charity, but come on. The refs missed a half dozen offensive foul calls.”

  “We’ve been telling her she’s too competitive for years,” Caleb pipes in from the backseat of Tuck’s truck.

  Tuck ruffles my hair. “It was supposed to be for fun. Didn’t you have fun?”

  “Yes.” I sigh.

  “Good, I had fun.” He smiles at me and my frustrations melts a little.

  Just a little. The last game still sucked.

  “Let’s all go out tonight, celebrate? Second place out of sixteen is pretty good,” Tuck says, lightening my mood again.

  “I’m in,” Caleb practically shouts.

  * * *

  “Come on! You’ll love it.” I pull on Tuck’s arm, but he doesn’t budge.

  “Let me at least have another shot first.”

  The live band has everybody on the floor stomping their feet and hooting. Boots shuffle in the sawdust on the ground as they move in unison. Haley and Nick are already on the floor learning the moves to the line dance. I can tell Tuck would rather stay by Caleb and the guys playing a game of darts. When he’d said I could pick where to go out after we lost the game to cheer me up, he hadn’t counted on me wanting to go to the country-western bar.

  “Dance with me!”

  He lowers his brows at me. A redheaded server in tight jeans brings a fresh round of drinks to the table on a tray. Tuck grabs his huge, frothy stein of beer and I take the two shots of tequila, one for each of us. We down the shots then Tuck gulps half his beer.

  He wipes his mouth. “Fine,” he says reluctantly.

  His hand rests lightly on my hip as we walk to the dance floor. He fumbles around the steps and I can’t help but giggle at how awkward he looks.

  “Here.” I stand in front of him in line. “Watch my steps and do what I do.”

  “And you shaking your ass in front of me is supposed to help me concentrate on the steps, how?”

  I turn around as the song comes to an end. Tuck pulls me into him, and my arms wrap around his neck. The next song starts and the crowd hollers in approval. Tuck rocks his hips and I sway with him to the beat. He has good rhythm when he’s not trying to remember the moves.

  “Come home with me tonight,” he whispers, his lips at my cheek.

  “Okay.” I nod.

  He hums, our bodies still moving together to the music. Then his unmistakably soft lips brush the spot just below my ear. The hand at my lower back holds me possessively to him. His lips press lightly against my jaw, and that couldn’t have been an accident. Is he kissing me?

  My heart starts racing and my cheeks warm, the heat spreads down my neck. Then he takes my hand and spins me out away from him.

  “Did I make you blush?”

  “No,” I pant. “It’s just hot in here.”

  His left dimple appears as he smirks at me. “Yes, it is.”

  I catch a glimpse of Haley and the guys drinking beer at the table. While most of them are watching the dart game and laughing, Haley’s eyes are on Tuck and me. She smiles and waves to me. She doesn’t look upset, but her words hit me again.

  Don’t hurt him.

  Tuck twirls me around and I am wrapped in his arms, close to him again. He leans down so our foreheads are touching. We’re not dancing anymore.

  His lips are parted as his hand caresses my jaw. He tilts my chin up and my breath catches in my throat. Just one more inch and I could suck on those pretty lips of his.


  Don’t hurt him.

  What am I doing?

  He closes his eyes and leans toward me.

  “I need some water,” I say as I pull away.

  I run over to the bar before I can change my mind.

  I bring a couple of glasses of ice water back to the table where Tuck is already finishing his beer.

  “I’m just going to catch a ride back home with Caleb and Nick.”

  Tuck furrows his brow, not hiding his disappointment. “You sure?”

  I nod. “We’ve both been drinking. I don’t want us to do something we’d end up regretting,” I say in a hushed tone.

  “You’d regret it?”

  I can see it in his eyes, the way he is looking at me.

  I did it.

  I hurt him.

  CHAPTER 12

  I haven’t talked to Tuck in two days.

  Me: Meet at my place tomorrow at 6?

  He doesn’t respond right away.

  I go get ready for bed, hoping for a reply by the time I am done.

  Tuck: I need to go in early for work tomorrow, I won’t be able to run

  Me: No problem. Tuesday then?

  Tuck: My schedule is going to be crazy all week actually

  Oh.

  Me: Okay

  Tuck: Sorry. Talk to you later

  * * *

  It’s been a month.

  A month since we’ve talked.

  A month since we’ve run.

  A month since we’ve texted.

  A month since I’ve been able to not think about him.

  But I’m fine. Really.

  I’ve been focusing on school. It’s been taking up quite a bit of time, actually. I’ve been playing co-ed volleyball with Caleb and meeting Haley for lunch. We don’t talk about Tuck. An unspoken agreement we have. She’s been so excited about her photography class and she shows me new slides from her assignments each week. Her photographs are beautiful.

  I go home for spring break. It’s a wonderful distraction—working on the ranch, riding my horse, even shoveling poop is a welcome respite. I catch up with some old friends from high school and watch Gracie cheer at her final pep rally. It’s great and I’m doing great—until I go to bed and absentmindedly flip the pillow over to lay on the cool side and there’s Tuck’s fucking face.

 

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