Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
Kate
When I wake up, I’m alone. I lift my head and search the space for Tucker, but he’s nowhere in sight. Dropping my head back to the pillow, I strain my ears, but the only sound I hear is the ticking of the large wall clock in the kitchen.
I really am alone. Something cracks in my chest, and I have the sudden urge to cry.
“No,” I say, sniffing against the burn in my sinuses.
I need to whip myself into shape. Tucker probably just went home––I mean, to the B&B––to shower and change before Miss Ginny caught him sneaking back in with yesterday’s clothes on.
And so what if he didn’t wake me to say goodbye? I’m a big girl. I don’t need constant reassurance.
Sitting up, I slide off the bed to land on my feet. Grabbing a thin robe from my closet, I cover my naked body and tie the belt with a little more force than necessary. Then I take a deep breath and force myself to smile.
It’s Penny’s wedding day, and I refuse to bring her down with my shit. I’m going to be the brightest, happiest maid of honor this world’s ever seen. Penny deserves that, at the very least, and I’m going to give it to her.
Besides, this is totally normal. I’ve always woken up alone. Tucker and I had an amazing night together, sure, but that doesn’t mean he needs to stick around to baby me in the morning. Again, I’m a big girl. An adult. A big adult?
“Ugh,” I say as I leave the room and head for the kitchen.
It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.
The scent of coffee fills my nostrils first, then my eyes land on the sheet of paper on the counter. Walking over, I pick it up and read it.
My forced smile settles into a more natural one as I read Tucker’s note. He didn’t sneak out on me. He went for a run, but not before making me a pot of coffee and leaving a note.
“Thoughtful,” I murmur to myself, setting the note down and moving to the pot to pour myself some coffee.
Once I’ve doctored it up the way I like it and taken my first sip, I move back to the note and pick it up to read it again.
My eyes go unfocused as I think about Tucker, the time we’ve spent together, and his little bursts of kindness and patience with me. He’s not the “J.T.” Penny described when she warned me to keep my distance from him.
J.T. is a player. A love ‘em and leave ‘em, one-night stand kind of guy who’ll never commit and leaves a trail of broken hearts and dashed dreams in his wake.
But Tucker? The Tucker I know is sweet and funny. He’s goofy sometimes, serious others. He’s a saver of weddings and a bringer of otherworldly orgasms. He’s strong, dependable, and has the kindest of souls.
He’s not some heartless playboy out to seek his own pleasure and nothing more.
The note slips from my fingers, drifting back to the countertop as my dreamy smile drops into a frown. What if I’m only seeing what I want to see?
Tucker could be playing games with me, I suppose. It’s not like I have any experience to compare it to. What if he’s only stuck with me this week to circumvent the drama that would ensue if he jumped from my bed into another woman’s? It’s a small town. People talk. He’s found that out, first-hand. And he wouldn’t want to upset Penny and Logan. Not this week.
Or worse, what if he did it because he knows I was a virgin before him? Oh, God. What if it’s all been out of some sense of obligation? Or worst of all, pity?
“No,” I say firmly, then take a long gulp of my cooling coffee.
I didn’t imagine all the fun we’ve had together this week. He didn’t just use me, then stick with me out of obligation or pity. Plus, I gave him an out last night, a perfectly acceptable escape hatch, and he didn’t take it. He wanted to come here. To be with me. I need to hold firm to that resolve when the doubts try to sneak back in.
My phone chimes from another room, and I set my coffee down to go in search of it. My bag is on the coffee table––Tucker no doubt picked it up off the floor for me this morning––and a quick search yields results as my fingers grip the cool plastic of my phone case. Pulling the device out, I see a message from Penny asking me to meet her at the bridal shop in forty-five minutes.
The new dress Tucker bought arrived last night. The two seamstresses worked on it until the wee hours of the morning, and she needs to go in for a final fitting this morning to make sure everything is perfect.
Tapping out a message to tell her I’ll be there as I walk back to my bedroom, I toss the phone onto the bed and head into the bathroom for a shower. Turning on the water so it will heat up, I turn back to the mirror as I untie the belt of my robe. Shrugging the garment off, I look at my reflection.
My eyes widen as they zone in on a light, reddish bruise on my chest. Leaning forward, I run a fingertip over the spot in awe. It’s a hickey.
My first.
Is it wrong that I hope my bridesmaid’s dress won’t cover the spot?
I shake my head. Of course, I don’t want it to show. How many questions would that bring? And the focus today should be solely on Penny.
Opening the shower door and reaching inside, I adjust the water to a comfortable temperature, then pull the door closed behind me. Turning my back to the spray, I tilt my head back and let the hot stream soak through my hair. Once it’s drenched, I step forward to grab the shampoo bottle from the shelf in the corner, but I drop it as a scream rips up my throat when the shower door flies open.
“Hey, it’s me. Sorry if I scared you.”
I slap a palm to my chest to contain my pounding heart as my gaze travels down his muscled, sweaty, naked body. Some baser instinct seizes control of my body in that moment, because my hand snakes out to grab his arm and drag him into the shower stall with me. He comes willingly, closing the door behind him and pushing me up against the glass wall opposite the shower head in one smooth motion.
Then his mouth is on mine, and the whole world fades away, leaving nothing but this steamy, four-by-six space and our naked, clinging bodies. Tucker seems to grow a few extra hands, his fingers trailing over every inch of my skin as he blazes a path with his mouth down my throat to my chest. I feel him place a slow, reverent kiss in the general area of the hickey, then he’s moving again, sucking a nipple between his lips while his hand slides up my inner thigh to my center.
Then he’s upright and kissing my mouth again, driving his tongue inside to taste me while his magical fingers work my clit. I fumble blindly toward the small shelf that holds my bath products, somehow manage to find the body wash, and pump a dollop into my palm. Reaching down, I smooth it over his erection, forming a slick, sudsy lubricant.
Tucker groans into my mouth as I pump his cock, and I mimic the noise as he slides his hand deeper between my legs. Sliding two fingers inside me to caress my inner walls, he grinds the heel of his palm against my clit.
I break off our kiss, tilting my head back to gulp for oxygen as electricity sparks in every one of my nerve endings. My legs tremble as pleasure streaks through me, and I pump his cock faster, running my hand from base to tip with each pass.
Tucker is sucking at the delicate skin beneath my ear, then he stiffens and grunts, his cock swelling in my hand before his warm release coats my stomach. Without taking even a moment to recover, he falls to his knees and lifts my leg over his shoulder with his free hand. The fingers of his other hand are still buried deep inside me, pumping steadily as his mouth finds my clit.
I try to hold it off, eager to keep the pleasure going, but my own release explodes through me, anyway. My foot slips when my knee buckles, but Tucker’s free hand steadies me before I fall, his fingers and his tongue continuing to work until he draws a second orgasm out of me.
“Oh, God,” I shout when it rockets through me, the words echoing around us over the sound of the rushing water.
Only then does Tucker relent, pulling his fingers free and pecking small kisses across the curve of my abdomen as he gently guides my leg off his shoulder. When I’m solidly on two feet again, he stands and looks down at me with a satisfied smile.
“Good morning,” he says in a low, growly tone.
“Good morning,” I parrot back, my lips curving into a wide smile .
“I’m sorry I scared you earlier,” he says, and I shake my head.
“Worth it.”
He chuckles, and leans in to kiss me again. I kiss him back for a moment, then jerk away with a curse.
“I’m meeting Penny at the bridal shop,” I say when he looks at me with questioning eyes. “I’m going to be late.”
“I’ll let you finish showering,” he says, popping the door open and grabbing a towel from the rack beside it. “Leave the water on, and I’ll clean up when you’re done.”
With another quick peck on my lips, he steps out and closes the door behind him. My hands are shaking as I pick up the shampoo bottle I dropped, squirt a dollop into my palm, and set the bottle back on the shelf before lathering up my hair. Scrubbing it quickly, I rinse it and apply conditioner before grabbing the shower poof, applying body wash, and scrubbing my entire body from neck to toe. After rinsing the conditioner from my hair, I open the door and peek out. I’m alone.
Grabbing the extra towel from the rack, I wrap it around my body and walk to the door. Tucker looks up from his phone. His towel wrapped around his waist, giving me a delectable view, and he smiles before dropping the device onto my dresser and walking toward me.
My hair is dripping all over the carpet as we pass each other, and Tucker’s hand snakes out, wrapping around my waist and pulling me in for another kiss before he releases me and saunters into the bathroom, whistling as he goes .
Snapping out of the daze he’s put me in, I rush to the closet and grab the first clothes I see––a pair of blue yoga pants and a purple t-shirt with a picture of a taco on it that has “Buy me tacos and tell me I’m pretty” scrawled underneath it. I pull the outfit on without underwear or a bra, then use my towel to squeeze the excess water out of my hair.
Picking up my phone, I check the time and breathe a sigh of relief. I’m going to make it.
Tucker’s still in the shower when I go back into the bathroom. Grabbing a wide-toothed comb and a hair elastic, I comb my soaked tresses into a high ponytail, then tie it into a messy wet bun.
Good enough.
“I have to go,” I call out loud enough for Tucker to hear me over the spray. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“I’ll lock the door on my way out,” he calls back. “Have fun with Penny.”
“Thanks,” I say, then skedaddle out of there before I do something stupid––like strip down and climb back into the shower with him.
The golf cart ride to the bridal shop is quick thanks to my lead foot, and when I rush into the shop in just the nick of time, Penny is already waiting. She takes one look at me, crosses her arms over her chest, and taps a toe against the carpet.
“What’s up with you? I’m not late,” I say, cocking my head as I study her rigid posture.
“Oh, no. You’re not late. But care to explain why you’ve showed up here looking so thoroughly fucked this morning?”
“W-what? ”
“Don’t deny it,” she says, uncrossing her arms to point at me. “Logan tried to tell me something was going on with you and J.T., and even though I knew you were crushing on the man, I accused Logan of being insane because there’s no way my best friend would lose her virginity and not tell me.”
My gaze darts around the shop, but it appears that, for the moment, we’re alone. I slump into the nearest chair with a groan. Closing my eyes, I pinch the bridge of my nose before taking a deep, fortifying breath and meeting Penny’s gaze once more.
“I’m so sorry, Penny. I thought I was doing the right thing. It’s your wedding week, and I didn’t want to add to your stress.”
Penny sits in the chair next to me, her tone softening as she asks, “Why would I be stressed?”
“Because you warned me, and I didn’t listen. I thought you’d be mad. I swear I was going to tell you. Just…after the honeymoon.”
“Kate.” She pauses to sigh dramatically, then spears me with an intense look. “Look into my eyes.”
I straighten and meet her gaze as the command requires.
“I love you, but sometimes you drive me crazy. Of course, I want you to talk to me immediately about something as monumental as this. Besides, we talked about you going for it, right? Did I not agree that if you wanted him, you should take him?”
“Yeah, but––”
Peggy, the seamstress, walks in, and my words cut off abruptly. Penny asks her to give us a few more minutes. Nodding, she heads back the way she came, and Penny meets my eyes again.
“Tell me everything.”
Relief rushes through me at those words. I didn’t realize how desperately I needed to talk to my best friend about all this, and I’m incredibly grateful Penny is so intuitive and called me out on my lies by omission. I start talking and don’t stop until I’ve told her everything that’s happened.
When I finally go silent, Penny’s eyes are wide. “Oh, my God. You’re in love with him.”
“What? No, I’m not. Don’t be ridiculous.”
I say the words, but they feel like lies as they spill from my tongue. Penny doesn’t say a word as she watches me as I process my feelings. Oh, God. She’s right, isn’t she?
“What am I going to do?”
“Easy,” she says confidently. “You ask him to stay.”
Panic sears through me. “I can’t do that. His life is in San Francisco. He has an important position in his family’s company. People depend on him. I can’t ask him to leave all that to move to this tiny town. Just to be with me.”
Penny cocks her head. “Would you move there to be with him?”
There’s no accusation in her voice, only simple curiosity. I think about the question, and my panic intensifies.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. My whole life is here. I have the Grill. My house. You. And Bush Monkey Isle is my home. I love it here.”
Penny gives me a smile, but it’s filled with sadness. “ I won’t tell you what to do. You have to decide on your own. But you know, if you do decide to leave, you won’t ever lose me. You’re stuck with me forever, sister.”
She leans toward me, and I lunge forward to throw my arms around her. We hug it out with misty eyes, then chuckle together as we dry each other’s tears. Penny clears her throat, and calls out to Peggy that we’re ready.
The shop owner reappears with the replacement dress, and Penny leaps to her feet and claps her hands together joyfully. They closet themselves inside the dressing room, and a few minutes later, Penny emerges looking like a vision in white.
“It’s perfect,” I breathe as she twirls in front of me.
And it is. Completely and utterly perfect.
Just like the man who made this happen.
We both turn toward the front door when the bells hanging over it jingle. Peter––Police Chief Brickman––walks in, his uniform perfectly pressed, and Peggy thanks him for coming before turning to Penny and me.
“I filed a report for the breaking and entering and vandalism yesterday after you guys left the shop.” Turning back to Peter––I’ve known the man since grade school, so it feels weird using his title––she asks, “Do you have any updates for us?”
“Because you don’t have any security cameras in the shop, I had my officers canvas the surrounding businesses. They found some footage from an exterior camera across the street.”
He taps at the screen of his phone a few times, then turns the device around. The three of us crowd in to watch the video, and Penny’s fingers curl around mine as a small figure enters the frame. I can’t tell who it is beneath the baggy black hoodie and pants, but the figure looks decidedly feminine.
She steps onto the bench beside the door, then stretches a hand upward. Plucking something from the top of the door jamb, she hops down before unlocking the door and slipping inside. I look over at Peggy.
“Do you keep a spare key over the door?” She nods, and I ask, “Who else knows about it?”
“Just my assistant, but we rarely use it. I’m always here, and the spare is just in case she needs to get in when I can’t make it.”
“Do you know where your assistant was yesterday when the incident occurred?” Peter asks.
“Yes, actually,” she says with a nod. “She was having lunch with me.”
“Whose idea was it to go out for lunch?” Penny asks, her tone laced with suspicion.
“It was hers,” Peggy confirms. “I tried to tell her I was too busy, but she convinced me I could use a little break with how hard I’ve been working on your dress.”
Penny meets my eyes, and we both nod before I say, “She was establishing an alibi.”
Peter––Chief Brickman––sighs. “Will you two please let me do my job? Just because you watch true crime documentaries doesn’t mean you’re a trained detective.”
Penny ducks her head. “Sorry, Chief.”
I nod in apology, but my mind is spinning. Looking over at Peggy, I ask, “Isn’t your assistant roommates with Kaylee Harper? ”
“Kate.”
“Hear me out, Chief,” I plead, and he sighs again as he nods. I smile in thanks. “A few nights ago, Penny got really sick after getting ice cream at Kaylee’s shop. Her symptoms pointed toward an allergic reaction, and everyone on this island knows Penny’s allergic to––”
“Soy,” he cuts in.
“Right.” I give him a nod. “So Kaylee would never give Penny soy-based ice cream, now would she?”
He thinks about that for a moment, then tilts his head to study me. “Motive?”
Penny groans as if the truth has slapped her in the face. “It’s all because of Logan. She’s wanted him since middle school, and she’s trying to ruin my wedding because she’s jealous.”
“I’ll check it out,” he says. “I’ll interview the assistant, too.”
“And you’re welcome for the assistance, Chief,” I sing-song as he turns to leave. “Let us know if you need help in any of your other cases.”
Peter rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he leaves, and I can’t suppress a chuckle. My humor dies, though, when I turn to meet Penny’s gaze again.
“That bitch,” she growls.
“She’ll get what’s coming to her,” I say, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Now, enough of all that. Let’s get back to the important stuff. Your dress is freaking amazing.”
“It really is, isn’t it?” she asks, turning to look at her reflection in the large mirror.
“Perfection,” I say. “You’re beautiful.”
We ooh and ahh for a bit longer, then Penny goes to change. When I look over at Peggy, it’s obvious she’s fretting.
“I’m going to have to fire her, aren’t I?” she asks when she meets my eyes.
I give her a sympathetic look. “If we’re right––and we’d already considered Kaylee the prime suspect before this, so I think we are––you obviously can’t trust her. And you deal in the most important days of people’s lives here. There has to be trust.”
Penny comes out, then, and Peggy straightens, the image of professionalism. “I’ll go pack up the dress and deliver it to the venue later. And I’ll personally guard it until you arrive. No one will get within ten feet of it, I promise.”
We thank her and gather our things as she disappears into the back. When we step outside, I grab Penny’s forearm and pull her to a stop.
“Want to grab breakfast?”
Penny arches a single brow. “Don’t you want to get back home to lover boy?”
A frown mars my face, and Penny sighs. Linking her fingers through mine, she starts walking, heading in the direction of Miguel’s.
“Okay, let’s go for some breakfast burritos. But if I’m too bloated to fit into my dress tonight, I’ll blame you.”
I tighten my grip on her hand. “Thanks for risking it. I just need some time to accept the fact that he won’t be in my life any more after tonight. And I need to decide what I’m going to say before I see him, again.”
“You’ve got this, but if you don’t, I’ve got you,” she murmurs, her voice filled with sincerity. “Always have. Always will.”