Everything I Never Wanted
Page 17
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said, comforting me. Gently, he began to sway our bodies ever so slightly.
The harder I cried, the tighter he held on.
“It’s all right, Cam. Just breathe.”
After what seemed like an eternity, I was able to reel in the onslaught of emotions and peeled my cheek from his soaked shirt.
“I’m sorry.” I dried my face with the backs of my hands.
“Don’t be, baby. That’s what I’m here for.” He tilted my chin up, forcing my eyes to his. “If you’re sad or pissed or hurt, you talk to me.”
I nodded, and Tucker softly brushed his lips against mine.
“It might make me sound like a selfish ass because I know how much you miss your dad”—he cupped my cheeks—“but I’m so fucking thankful you’re standing here, in my arms.”
His words hit me straight in the heart, and I swore, I could’ve melted into a puddle at his feet.
Tucker kissed me again, deeper this time. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to mine. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He hugged me to him and asked, “What do you have left to make?”
“Cucumber salad and banana pudding.” The words were muffled against his hard chest.
“How about we knock it out together, and you can tell me about your dad?”
“Are you sure you want to help?” I took a step back to look at him and placed my hands on my hips.
“I’m not going to just sit on my ass while you do all the work. Besides, I know my way around a kitchen.” He attempted a wounded look. “Now, just tell me where I can get one of those things.” He waved a finger over my apron.
I pointed him to the alcove where several hung on a hook, and then I walked to the sink to wash up.
“Damn. You think you have enough of these?”
I dried my hands and turned to see him rifling through the selection. “You can blame my Nonna for that obsession.”
Tucker found the only manly-looking one I owned and slipped it over his head.
“Good choice,” I said and pointed to his chest. It was black and had a rooster on the front with the word cocky embroidered in red above it. “It made me laugh, so I bought it.”
“I can see why.” He chuckled.
While Tucker washed his hands, I quickly finished spooning the dressing into the disposable pan. I covered it and put it in the fridge. Then, I grabbed the sour cream to start on the next item on my list.
“Can you grab another cutting board from that cabinet over there?” I asked, pointing to the one I was referring to. I rinsed the cucumbers and lightly ran the fresh dill under water. Then, I patted everything dry and took the ingredients to the island top.
He set the board down and shifted the stools out of the way. We worked quietly for a few minutes. Tucker thinly sliced the cucumbers while I chopped the dill and combined it in a bowl with the sour cream.
With the edge of his knife, he slid the slices from the cutting board into the bowl. “Tell me about him.”
“Whenever I was sad, he’d try to make me laugh or do something special to cheer me up.” I laughed as the memories began to flood back in. “I remember this one Halloween. I had my costume all set, and I was so excited to go trick-or-treating.” I pressed the lid over the bowl of the creamy salad, stuck it in the fridge, and grabbed the milk for the banana pudding. “I ended up catching the stomach flu and couldn’t go.”
“That had to suck,” he sympathized.
“It did.” I got the pudding started, turned the fire to low, and stood sideways, so I could stir it and look at Tucker. “Oh, can you grab the vanilla wafers and layer them on the bottom of that pan?”
He opened the box of cookies to do as I’d asked.
“Anyway, I was devastated to have missed out on trick-or-treating. Two days later, when I was fully recovered, Dad made me put on my costume—”
“What did you dress up as?” he interrupted.
“Mother Goose.” I snickered, remembering the getup. “Nonna had made the dress with a little white half-apron.” I grinned. “Then, she’d printed out a few nursery rhymes on iron-on transfer paper, put them on it, and hot-glued a spider and a cow to the fabric. I had a giant floppy hat that tied under my chin and fake glasses, too. I was so damn adorable.”
Tucker roared with laughter. “Please tell me there are pictures.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Where was I?” I thought for a second, “Oh … he made me put on the costume. When I asked him why, he said he was taking me trick-or-treating. I thought he was crazy, but I grabbed my pillowcase, and we went to every house on our street. When I knocked on the door and said those magic words, I ended up with tons of candy. The weird thing was, they were all my favorites.” I smiled wistfully. “Years later, he confessed to buying all the sweets and getting the neighbors on board.”
“He sounds like an incredible man.”
“He really was.”
We finished with the banana pudding and let it cool on the counter. While I threw together a quick antipasto salad for dinner, Tucker surprised me by sharing stories from his own childhood. With every laugh we shared, I felt the sadness ebb away.
After we ate dinner, put away all the food, and cleaned up the kitchen, we curled up on the couch to watch television.
When it cut to a commercial break, I slid from beneath Tucker’s arms. “I’ll be right back. There’s something I want to show you.”
I went to my bedroom and retrieved the box from the closet. I lifted out the folded material and hugged it to my chest as I headed back to the living room.
“Will you help me unfold this?” I asked upon my approach.
He stood, and I offered him an end of the fabric. Together, we opened the large white sheet.
The corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Are those turkeys?”
“Yep.”
Dozens of turkeys, made from my and my dad’s handprints through the years, decorated the material.
“Every Thanksgiving, after we ate breakfast, we’d paint our hands and add new turkeys. By the time we ate, the paint would be dry, and my dad would fold the sheet like a runner and put it on the table.” I pointed to the littlest handprint near the corner Tucker was holding. “That’s the first one. I was only three.”
His smile was huge.
“What?” I asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“I don’t think you could be any more fucking adorable if you tried.”
“That’s it. No more show-and-tell for you,” I joked.
Together, we refolded it, and after, I set it on the chair. Tucker pulled me in for hug, and I let out a yawn.
“Tired, baby?”
“A little.”
“Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll be right there. I’m just going to call Mom and check on Bug.”
“Okay,” I said sleepily and headed down the hall.
32
Tucker
I stepped out onto Camryn’s back porch and dialed my mom’s number.
She picked up on the second ring. “Tuck. You’re calling a little late. Is everything okay?”
“Sorry, Mom. Everything is fine. I have a question for you.”
Seeing my girl so lost in her grief had gutted me. I wanted to do something for her, and as soon as she’d brought out the sheet with all those little turkeys made from handprints, it’d hit me.
“All right.”
“Remember all those paints you bought when you and Bug made those shirts? Do you still have them?”
“Yeah. Why?”
After I filled her in on my idea, she was quiet for several long seconds. I pulled the phone away from my ear to make sure she was still there.
“Mom?”
“I’m here,” she sighed. She was trying to find her words, so I waited. Finally, she said, “You’re the best kind of man, Tucker Jaxson.”
“You’re biased.”
“Maybe I am, but if ever there w
as anyone who deserved to be happy, it’s you.”
“I appreciate that, Mom.”
A beat went by, and I braced myself for the question I knew was coming.
“Have you told her?”
“Not yet.” I had my reasons, none of which I wanted to discuss with my mother.
“A lie of omission is still a lie, young man.”
“Mom,” I warned.
“Fine. I won’t say another word, but at some point, you need to tell her.”
I knew she was right, but doing that would require slashing open old wounds, ripping through scar tissue, and unleashing the truth I wanted to keep buried forever.
It was time for a change of subject. “How’s Bug?”
“Good. Sound asleep. We played hard.”
“Sounds like you wore her out.”
“More like the other way around.” She laughed. “I’m beat.”
“In that case, I’ll let you go. Thanks, Mom … for everything. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Love you, Tuck.”
“Love you, too.”
There was no trace of sadness in my woman’s eyes this morning when I found her in the kitchen, making cinnamon rolls.
I hoped today wouldn’t be too hard on her, but I knew better than most that, sometimes, grief came in waves, knocking you down when you least expected it. Other times, you wouldn’t need to look at a calendar because certain dates were branded into the recesses of your brain. You knew it was coming, and somehow, even though you mentally prepared, the pain was a fucking rip current sucking you below the surface.
Mom had called me earlier to say she had everything set up for our little project. I couldn’t wait to surprise Camryn, and Shayne would love it, too.
We loaded up the truck and headed out. I watched Camryn out of my periphery as she sang along with the radio. Her long black hair was in a braid down her back. Blue-and-gray-checkered flannel with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, several buttons undone, and the ends tied at the waist. Perfect amount of cleavage peeking out from the black tank she wore beneath her shirt. Legs clad in tight blue denim. She looked fuckable, and I debated on taking a detour down one of the back roads to do just that.
“Tucker?” she said my name like a question.
My eyes drifted from the road to look at her. “Yeah, baby?”
I glanced back to the windshield, slowed down, and made my turn onto the country road that led to my mom’s. I shifted my gaze to her again, and I needed my mouth on her. To taste her in a way I wouldn’t be able to for hours unless we somehow managed to get away from prying eyes. I looked in the rearview, made sure the coast was clear, and pulled the truck over onto the side of the road.
She gaped at me. “What are you doing?”
“This.” I unbuckled my seat belt and then did the same to hers.
I hauled her closer. Gripping her braid, I wove it around my fist and brought my mouth to hers. My tongue glided along the seam of her lips. She opened, and I dipped inside, tasting the hint of sweet cinnamon. Camryn’s hands went to my neck, and her fingers tugged at my hair. I loved the way her body reacted to mine. I wanted to devour her. Feast on every inch of her skin and have her again for dessert. I kissed her until my body’s demand for oxygen could no longer be ignored.
With our foreheads together, we shared the same air as we panted for breaths.
“Holy shit,” she gasped.
I chuckled.
“What was that for?” She pulled back to look at me.
“I couldn’t go another minute without kissing you.”
“Aw.” She cupped my face. “Has anyone ever told you, you’re the sweetest and sexiest man alive?”
“All the time.” I smirked.
She playfully swatted me on the chest. “You’re such a shit.” She laughed.
“You love me,” I countered.
She grew serious, moved her mouth to mine, and placed the barest whisper of a kiss against my lips. Then, she wrapped her arms around my neck, tightly squeezed, and said, “More than you’ll ever know.”
We sat there, embracing each other, for long moments. A sense of foreboding settled over me, and I didn’t want to let her go.
“Your mom is going to start to wonder where we are,” Camryn finally uttered.
I knew she was right, and as much as I didn’t want to, I released my hold and shifted my body to put my seat belt back on as Camryn did the same. I pulled back out onto the road, and in a matter of minutes, we were in my mom’s driveway.
“We’re here,” I called out as Camryn and I walked through the front door, arms weighted down with food.
“In here,” Shayne and Mom called out in unison.
We followed their voices into the kitchen and began unloading everything.
“Daddy.” Shayne threw herself into my now-free arms.
I picked her up and held her to me.
She hugged me tight and whispered into my ear, “Is it time for Camryn’s surprise yet?”
“In just a few minutes. Keep it a secret a little longer,” I whispered back.
“Okay.” She looked into my eyes. “Did you miss me?”
“Always, Doodlebug.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too. How about you hop down, so I can help Grammy really quick?”
“Okay.”
I set her on her feet and watched as she went to hug Camryn.
Several minutes later, after the dressing was in the oven and the turkey was taken out to rest, we all headed to the back porch where my mom had everything set up.
Newspaper covered the table as well as several small bottles of fabric paint, placemat-sized pieces of burlap, and everything else we would need.
“What’s all this?” Camryn asked.
I put my arms around her and hugged her from behind. “I thought you could use some placemats to go with your table-runner thing.”
“Tucker, I don’t even know what to say.” Her eyes moved to my mom. “Laura …”
My girl was at a loss for words, and that didn’t happen often.
“It was all Tucker. I just happened to have what he needed on hand.”
The look on Camryn’s face was priceless.
“This is incredible,” Camryn said, taking it in. “Thank you.”
“I’ve been waiting all day for this,” Shayne announced. “Grammy said I had to be patient, and I tried so hard that I used all my patience up. Will you show me how to make a turkey now?” She looked at Camryn and gave her that face, complete with fluttering eyelashes and a pouty bottom lip. It worked like a charm every time.
Camryn took my daughter by the hand and sat at the table. My mom followed suit, and I watched the three people I loved more than anything in the world cover their palms in brown and then each finger in a different shade of paint.
I breathed deeply, taking it all in. My heart swelled at the sight before me, and I wanted to freeze time. The sounds of their combined laughter washed over me. I sat on the other side of my daughter and picked up a paintbrush. Camryn’s eyes found mine, and in their depths, I swore, I could see forever.
I tried like hell to ignore it, but the uneasiness from earlier settled back in. No matter how hard I fought it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my life was about to implode.
33
Camryn
Nearly the last three weeks had flown by in a whirl of activity. Christmas was just shy of two weeks away, and winter break started today. I’d been spending as much time with Shayne and Tucker as possible. We had gone to the park and taken Shayne ice-skating at the faux rink the town of Jaxson Cove set up every winter. I loved them both with every bit of my soul.
I was on my way to the garage to pick up Shayne, so I could take her shopping for her dad’s Christmas gift. Then, we were going to make gingerbread houses while Tucker worked late. I pulled into the lot and parked next to Tucker’s truck. I got out of the car and smiled at the predictable chime of the door when I walked ins
ide.
The lobby was empty, except for Nash, who was sitting behind the high counter.
“Hey, Camryn,” he said louder than necessary.
“Hi, Nash.”
“Camryn!” Shayne squealed in delight. A flurry of brown hair bounded around the corner of the counter. “Is it time to go shopping now?” She threw her arms around my waist and glanced up at me.
“In a few minutes, sweet girl. Where’s your dad?”
“He’s in there, talking to his friend.” She pointed at Tucker’s closed office door.
“Oh.” The second my eyes landed on Nash, he looked away. “Nash, what’s going on?”
“Camryn.” He slightly shook his head.
What the hell?
I walked toward Tucker’s office door but stopped short when Nash spoke, “Hold up a sec.”
I pivoted to face him, and he pointed a finger at Shayne.
“Come on, Monkey,” he said to Shayne. “Let’s go see Aunt Macy.”
“But Camryn is taking me shopping.” She put her hands on her hips.
“We’ll be right back. Besides, Aunt Macy has those little mints you love,” he persuaded. “The square ones.”
“Those ones are dinner mints.”
“And they’re your favorite. Come on. I’ll even sneak you some for later.”
Her eyes lit up. “Great idea. Camryn, don’t leave without me.”
“Not a chance, kiddo.”
I waited until they left, knocked once on Tucker’s office door, and twisted the knob.
Tucker was leaning against the short end of his desk while a woman with long blonde hair stood less than two feet from him. My gaze volleyed between the woman and Tucker.
I knew that face. She was a little older but just as stunning.
“Tucker, what’s going on?”
Before he could answer, the woman stepped forward and held out her perfectly manicured hand. Red polish matched her red lips. “Hi, I’m Holly. And you are?”
Is this a fucking joke?
“Shit,” Tucker muttered.
I ignored her hand and glared at Tucker.
“Well, this is a little awkward. I think I’ll go grab a cup of coffee.” Holly stepped into Tucker’s space. She placed her hand on Tucker’s bicep and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll see you later.” She stepped around me. Her heels clacked across the concrete floor as she made her exit.