CHAPTER SEVEN #2
“Emily.” He pulled the ice pack away, pulling my hand down so I had to look at him. “Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop assuming the worst.” His jaw worked. “Stop thinking I don’t want you.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. “Tucker—”
“I was an ass this morning.”
“You were—”
“Let me finish.” His eyes met mine, dark and intense even through the pain. “I woke up with you in my arms. Best damn sleep I’ve had in years. And my first thought was that I wanted to wake up like that every morning.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Then I saw you trying to sneak out. Trying to leave like it meant nothing. Like I meant nothing.” His hand tightened on mine. “And yeah, I got pissed. Said things I shouldn’t have. But not because I wanted you gone.”
“Then why—”
“Because I’m an idiot who doesn’t know how to use his words.
” He pulled me closer, until I was standing between his knees.
“Because I’ve been alone on that mountain every day and had convinced myself I was better off that way.
Then you showed up with your sass and your pie and those eyes that see too damn much, and you destroyed any sense of peace I’d found. ”
Tears pricked at my eyes. “I’m sorry, Tucker.”
“I’m not. I’m so fucking grateful.” He pushed a strand of stray hair behind my ear. “I love you, Emily.”
The words hung in the air between us, stark and raw and impossible.
“You—what?”
“I love you.” He cupped my face with both hands, thumbs brushing away tears I hadn’t realized were falling. “I’m in love with you. Have been since you sat on your car eating that apple like you had all the time in the world. Maybe before that. I don’t know when it happened, just that it did.”
“You don’t—” I shook my head. “You barely know me.”
“I know enough. I know you’re brave and stubborn and kind.
I know you take care of everyone else and forget to take care of yourself.
I know you make me want things I thought I’d given up on.
” His forehead pressed against mine. “I know you gave me something precious last night, and I’m an ass for not acknowledging it at the time.
But to be honest, I was pretty fucking gone last night. ”
My breath caught. “How did you—”
“Your body told me. The way you tensed at first. The way you...” He trailed off, jaw clenching. “You should have told me.”
“Would it have changed anything?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” He groaned softly. “I would’ve been more careful. Made it better for you.”
I smiled at him. “I don’t think that could have happened.”
“Tell me I didn’t screw this up beyond repair. Tell me I still have a chance.”
I looked at him—this complicated, damaged, beautiful man who’d just driven down a mountain with a migraine starting to tell me he loved me. Who’d been harsh this morning because I’d hurt him. Who was looking at me now like I was his entire world.
“I’m scared,” I admitted.
“Me too.”
“What if this doesn’t work?”
“What if it does?” He pulled back enough to meet my eyes. “I’m not good at this. At people. At relationships. I’ll probably mess up. Say the wrong thing. Disappear into my head when the pain gets bad.”
“I’ll probably overthink everything and assume you’re going to leave.”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.” His voice was firm. Final. “Because I love you. And I’m done running. Done hiding. If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll spend every day proving I’m worth the risk.”
“Tucker—”
He kissed me before I could finish. Soft at first, then deeper, desperate. Pouring everything he couldn’t say into the press of his lips, the sweep of his tongue. I melted into him, my hands gripping his shoulders, kissing him back with everything I had.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
“Is that a yes?” he asked against my lips.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, you idiot. I love you too.”
His smile was beautiful. Devastating. “Say it again.”
“I love you.”
He kissed me again, harder this time. His hands slid down to my waist, pulling me flush against him. I could feel the heat of him through our clothes, could feel how much he wanted me even through the pain of his migraine.
“We should stop,” I murmured against his mouth.
“Probably.”
But neither of us moved. His hands slid under my scrub top, rough palms against soft skin, and I gasped.
“I need you,” he growled. “I need to show you—”
A loud knock on the door made us both freeze.
“I hate to interrupt,” came Mandy’s voice through the door, way too loud and clearly not actually sorry at all. “You two might want to keep it down. Unless you want the whole clinic knowing what’s happening in exam room three.”
I buried my face in Tucker’s chest, mortified.
His chest shook with silent laughter.
“We’ll be out in a minute,” I called.
“Take your time,” Mandy singed-songed. “I’ll just turn up the music in the waiting room.”
Tucker’s laugh turned into a full rumble, and I felt it vibrate through his chest. When I pulled back to look at him, his eyes were warm. Soft. Happy.
“This is mortifying,” I muttered.
“This is perfect.” He kissed my forehead. “Welcome to small-town life.”
“Everyone’s going to know.”
“Good. Let them.” He tilted my chin up. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
My heart did a little flip. “Oh, really? Where did the reclusive, scary hermit go that I first met wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants?”
“You noticed them, did you? I thought you were too busy staring at my abs.”
“Absolutely not,” I smiled. “Much.”
He pulled me closer still, bending his head to nuzzle my neck. “Go lock the door.”
“What?”
“I said, go lock the door.” He began to unbutton the flannel shirt he wore. “I think I’m in need of some very hands on therapy.”
I bit my lip, clenching my thighs together. What we were about to do—what I was about to do—was highly unprofessional. I looked at him sitting there in nothing but his jeans, the scars on his chest calling to me. I wanted to lick them, kiss away the pain.
“Fuck it,” I murmured.
One dark eyebrow rose. “What’s that Nurse Emily?”
“You heard me. Now be a good patient and lie back.” I walked to the door and locked it. As I walked back to the exam table I tugged my scrub top over my head. “Now, tell me where it hurts.”