Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Gabby
I’m attracted to Tucker Black.
For years, I convinced myself I was only attracted to the idea of us together.
Every time I wondered how different my life would be if I’d just let him out of the friendzone before prom night—before he enlisted in the Army—I always arrive at the same conclusion: it was just a fantasy that sounded good in theory but would never have worked out in reality.
That I didn’t really like him like that, I just liked the idea of him as more than my platonic best friend.
But now?
I’m really fucking attracted to Tucker Black.
The thought plays on repeat our first hour on the river, taunting me.
My nipples are tingling and puckered beneath the layers of fabric, and it has nothing to do with the cool, autumn weather.
It has everything to do with how fucking turned on I’ve been since he pulled me against his hard, muscular body on the shore.
I want Tucker.
I want to throw caution to the wind and ride him like he’s a class six rapid—extremely dangerous and thrilling.
If there’s any chance of a friendship truce however, I don’t want to fuck it up by giving into my suddenly lustful temptations. And there’s no guarantee he’d welcome my advances, anyway. He seems more than a little irritated about us being stuck together.
“How long have you been in Cinnamon Creek?” I ask over my shoulder, desperate to break an hour-long silence.
“Just for the season.”
“I didn’t know you got out of the Army,” I say, trying to swallow the hurt.
One minute, he promised to be my prom date since the quarterback, Colby Johnson, ditched me for his on-again-off-again girlfriend.
The next, Tucker ditched me too. He left for basic training despite having never talked about enlisting in the military. It’s never made sense to me.
“About a year ago, when Reid did.”
“You two are still friends then?”
“Of course.”
“I’m glad for that.” I always liked Reid, but more in that brotherly sort of way. If I’m being honest, I’m shocked that he and Erin never ended up together. He’s way more her type than Chad ever was.
“You’re still close with Erin and Stormi?” he asks of my cousins.
“Yeah, we are.” They’re the only family I’ve ever truly felt close to.
I leave out the part about moving to Omaha after a bad breakup, when Erin offered me a room until I got back on my feet.
No need to list my failures right off the bat.
Guilt twists my stomach, because I still haven’t told her I’m moving out.
I didn’t want her to worry whether or not I’d make it back for the wedding.
“What happened?” Tucker asks. “Erin was supposed to get married but isn’t?”
“Erin’s piece-of-shit ex-fiancé porked her stepsister.”
“Fuck. That’s terrible.”
“I wanted to fly out to Vegas, but apparently I was the only one with murder on the brain. So, we’re here instead.”
“You always were loyal to a fault,” Tucker says, his chuckle both familiar and mildly mocking. Or maybe I’m imagining the familiar part, confusing it for the rushing river. The heat pooling lower in my belly doesn’t care if it’s real or imaged.
But the heat igniting my chest over the mocking part of his laugh is pure frustration.
“Not loyal enough, apparently,” I mumble.
“What?”
“You left me,” I snap, turning in my seat as much as I can to face him. “You joined the fucking Army without telling me—I had to hear about it from Erin—and then you left without even saying goodbye.”
“Gabby, look—”
“I came to see you the day you were leaving, but you were already driving away. You never called or wrote me—”
“Gabriella!”
“Don’t Gabriella me! You left me without—”
By the time I recognize the urgency in both his tone and his widened eyes, it’s too late.
My paddle snags on a large rock, snapping right out of my hands.
It’s instantly lost to the quickly rushing river.
The kayak hits next, the brunt force of the collision enough to throw my upper body all the way forward.
One moment I’m upright, the next I’m underwater.
Training and instinct take over as I free myself from the kayak skirt and attempt to swim to the surface.
The rough rapids do their damnedest to pull me under, and it occurs to me that I should have spent a little more time in the gym before accepting my new job.
What kind of rafting guide can’t even save themselves?
For a moment, I’m certain it’s all over. This is the end.
Then, two firm hands hook beneath my shoulders and yank me to shore.
I cough, spitting out water as our kayak is yanked downriver.
By some miracle, my waterproof bag caught around my wrist and made it to dry ground with me.
I unzip it, nearly crying in relief at the sight of my phone.
I’d have a helluva time getting to California without it.
Everything I need is stored in that little device—contacts, addresses, schedules.
“You okay?” Tucker asks, hovering over me. The concern is heavy in his eyes, and it pisses me off.
“No, you don’t get to do this,” I say, pushing up to my feet, abandoning my bag—and my phone—temporarily. I wobble once, and he reaches out to steady me. I swat his hand away. “You don’t get to pretend that you care about me now, Tucker. You abandoned me.”
“Is that what you think?”
“That’s what I know.”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“Then enlighten me, Tucker. What don’t I get?”
Somewhere in our passionate debate, we’ve come toe-to-toe. If I reached my hand to his jaw, I could comb my fingers through his beard. Or yank him by it, dragging his mouth down to mine.
“It’s always been you, Gabby.”
His hand cups my cheek, and I momentarily forget that I’m pissed at him.
I press my face into his damp palm, imagining that warm, calloused hand in other places on my body.
I can’t stop staring at his lips, wondering if his beard would tickle if I kiss him or would it burn like the fire raging between us right now?
“Me?”
“You,” he reaffirms, tilting my chin up and pressing his lips to mine.
My entire body sags in relief at the touch I didn’t know I was craving so damn much. I melt against him as our mouths move as one. As though we’ve kissed a thousand times. When his tongue teases the seam of my lips, I part them in invitation.
The sensual kiss turns feral in seconds.
Tucker backs me up against what I assume is a tree, but I’m too busy molding my entire body to his to care if it’s a grizzly bear.
I greedily slide my fingers through his damp beard, his hair, up the back of his wet neck.
The near brush with death that left him drenched in river water would make him sexier.
He lifts one of my legs, until my knee is level with his hip. His hand slides up beneath my thigh as I rock against him. The layers of clothing do nothing to dull the sensation of his touch.
“Tucker,” I pant his name, sinking further into this dreamland that is only the two of us. A part of me believes I’ve always wanted Tucker Black but just never allowed myself to admit it. He was so far out of my league back in high school that I felt lucky just to be his friend.
It’s always been you.
He tugs the zipper down on my wet suit and slips a hand inside, cupping my breast. There’s still too many layers, but this is so much fucking better. I arch into his touch, moaning with need.
A loud, siren like noise sounds, startling us both.
We split apart, as though we’re teenagers who’ve just been busted making out under the bleachers.
“What is that noise?” I ask, trying to hide the heavy panting. Every pore of my body is tingling with desire. Had we not been interrupted, I’m fairly certain I would have let Tucker fuck me against the side of—I turn my head over my shoulder to verify the hard surface—this massive boulder.
“My radio.”
The lusty haze evaporates in a single second, clearing the way for renewed anger. “You’ve had a fucking radio this whole time?”