Chapter Fifteen
Lexi
Questions. Oh my God, I have so many questions!
How?
When?
Why?
I’m not even sure where to start, but suddenly I’m too jumpy to eat. I order something small when everyone else does. I barely eat the food when it’s brought to me, and I don’t absorb anything anyone is saying after the subject has changed from Tucker buying a house here. And not just in Chicago but on the same street as my parents. The house across the street from my parents!
The brownstone I’ve always secretly wanted to raise a family in one day but never figured I would, since Mr. McKinny had been born in that house and had inherited it from his parents when they passed, many years before my parents had purchased their brownstone across the way.
I had been inside the home many times before, but only up to the second floor to use the bathroom once. Mrs. McKinny was such a lovely lady and she had us over for dinner often throughout the years before she passed.
The McKinny’s loved to host but with their only children living in Florida, we became an extension of that.
The home features four stories plus a basement, an open terrace on the roof with an incredible view of the city, seven bedrooms, four bathrooms, and 7,400 square feet. Mr. McKinny renovated the downstairs in the nineties but the rest of the space was mostly original.
This particular brownstone is currently the largest single dwelling house on the block. Certainly, more house than I would ever need, but its close proximity to my parents and its sheer beauty and architecture has always drawn me to it. And now, it’s Tucker’s.
I’d never had a chance to bid on it. Not that I could have afforded the place.
The house wasn’t even for sale! This is exactly the type of charm Tucker Evans has at his disposal. Who in their right mind could resist him? Not even a ninety-year-old man for God’s sake!
The conversation Tucker and I had had almost ten years ago, when he came over unannounced to my house, now hurdles through my memory. He had found my binder of sketches and redesign drawings on the bookshelf. I had more drawings of the McKinny house than any other building. He knew I loved it and dreamed of owning it one day.
"Is this the house across the street? Carl McKinny’s house, right?"
"I love that house."
"I can see that."
"It’s stupid. Mr. McKinny will never sell that place. It’s been in his family for over a hundred years. I’ve always dreamed of owning it one day."
"That’s not stupid."
"Okay, but not likely."
"You’re smart and driven. You can have anything you want."
"Well in that case. I want that house with a husband, two-and-a-half kids, and a labradoodle named Duane."
"Duane-the-doodle?"
"Yeah, why not. You said I can have anything I want."
"You can."
The memory has me rattled. My mind is completely eclipsed with every thought about how this happened and why he’s done it. How close he will now live to my parents…but also to me.
He stole my dream house. That won’t go unnoticed.
I need to get my mind clear. I need space to breathe and try to adjust to this new reality. He won’t be moving in tomorrow. There are still a couple of months left in the season, if they make it to the playoffs. I have time to wrap my head around Tucker Evans closing the distance between us. Where are his feelings for me now? How do I feel about him? I am a bundle of nerves.
As soon as everyone has finished eating, I wait the adequate amount of time to say my goodbyes. I am on a tight deadline and with all the distractions of today, I need to close the blinds in every window of my office, use some breathing methods to get Tucker and the McKinny house out of my head for a while, and get back to work. Or better yet, maybe it is a good day to work from home.
I stand and excuse myself, giving the technically accurate reason for departing before everyone is done visiting, opposed to the real reason I need to leave the cafe. I start in on my goodbyes and explanation for leaving when Tucker pulls out his wallet and hands Sabrina his Black Card to pay for everyone’s meal. He whispers something in her ear, and she nods.
I’m about to make my exit from the table when Tucker quickly makes his way behind me and pulls back my chair. I catch my mom smiling sweetly at Tucker and his chivalrous act. If only she’d seen how chivalrous he was with the woman at the bar in New Orleans. Or for that matter, the way he is with any woman for the last fifteen years of his life.
I can feel the bitterness about the house purchase raging in me. I know that thinking that way about Tucker isn’t fair. No, I haven’t seen him go above and beyond for a girl, mostly because none of them ever held him to it. He could have tripped them into a puddle so he could walk over top of them to avoid getting his shoes dirty, and they would have thanked him for it.
I’ve never seen him attentive to a woman. Not like how my father is with my mother, or my brother is with Brielle. Or…how he was with me at the lake house all those years ago.
And earlier, when he thought I might be pregnant…with someone else’s baby. He jumps at the chance to make sure I am taken care of. To put me first. Always.
My mother’s grin has a warm feeling spreading through my heart right now and I want to run away from it as fast as possible.
Why is he doing this to me?
"I’m going to walk Lexi out. I’ll be right back," he informs everyone as I step past him toward the exit.
He catches up to me in two large footsteps and his huge hand covers my entire lower back as he leads me out. This time, his hand is lower than it was when he led me into the café. His fingertips just slightly gliding over my butt.
I can’t keep letting my body make the calls when I’m close to Tucker. I have to keep my thoughts straight and right now, I have a house-sized bone to pick with him.
I can’t help myself. Now that we’re out of earshot, I let my frustration vent.
"What the hell was that, Tucker?"
"I bought a house in Chicago. What’s wrong with that? I always told you I planned on coming back here. The opportunity just fell in my lap."
"Oh really?! It just magically fell in your lap. Real estate isn’t like horny woman, Tuck. Their faces don’t just magically fall into your crotch."
"Whoa, Lex…" he says, grabbing my arm gently to stop me.
I turn to face him, crossing my arms over my chest, glaring back at him since he thinks he can pass this off buying a home like that on a whim as normal. None of this is normal.
"That four-million dollar home hasn’t been owned by anyone other than a McKinny for over a century. You’re trying to tell me that the opportunity just presented itself to you?"
"Really, four million is your guess? That’s damn close."
He’s attempting to use flattery as a way to tear down my defenses, but I won’t be distracted.
"I don’t assess many residential properties in my line of work, but yeah, that would be my first guess without seeing comps in the area. It would be a hell of a lot more if it was updated. Please tell me you didn’t pay more than that? If you did, it was highway robbery and I’ll be sending my mom over to have some words with Mr. McKinny."
"Then I’m not telling you what I paid."
"Oh my God. You did," I say, shaking my head and glancing away from him.
"Can you just let me explain?" he asks, taking a small step forward. "Tomorrow night?"
I sigh. I really need to get back to work, so no matter how pissed off I am that he bought my dream home without a single word to let me know, I need to let this go for now.
"Okay, fine. But I really need to know where we’re going to eat. ‘Dress comfortable’ is not good enough for dinner attire instructions. I can rule out formal black tie, but I need to know if I can wear heels or not."
He hesitates to say anything more.
"For the love of God, give me something to go on. Are we foraging for our food? Dumpster diving? Any of those tips would be better than what you’re giving me. Do I need to recite Dr. Suess to find out the whereabouts of our dinner plans?"
He laughs and the smile that stretches across his face is the same one I remember as a kid. Back when he first started staying at our house. Before he realized he was a god among men and could have any girl he wanted. It’s a smile with zero pomp and circumstance.
"Green Eggs and Ham. That was my favorite book your mom used to read. I remember how she stopped reading Luca and I goodnight stories when we started fifth grade. She said we needed to start reading ourselves, but we’d sneak into your room and lay at the foot of your massive four post queen size bed when she came in to read to you. I remember it had a white lacy scalloped canopy draped over the top, and I thought, as a kid, that the princess of England probably had a bed just like that."
I had forgotten about that. For a solid year, the boys would come into my room at night to listen to my mom read bedtime stories.
At first, they started out by trying to make as little noise as possible so my mom wouldn’t notice them. As if you could miss two large ten-year-old adolescents taking up the entire bottom of my bed. But being the troublemakers they were, within a few weeks, they were putting in requests for books they wanted my mom to read.
Even at ten-years-old, Tucker requested Green Eggs and Ham over almost any other book. Those days were my favorite.
It reminds me that our history is vast, and I should try harder to make us friends again, just like Tucker wants.
"I convinced Luca we should sneak in for story time. Sheila attempted to shoo us away but it was always half-hearted. I convinced your brother under false pretenses. What I really wanted to do was to feel that soft white comforter your mom bought for the bed. I wanted to know what a princess’s bed felt like." He laughs. "But after your mom let us get away with it the first night, we kept coming back every night.
"I’ve never forgotten. After all these years, you’re still my home, Lexi." He reaches out, his fingers brushing gently over my ear, tucking a few strands behind it. The touch ignites more butterflies low in my belly.
The moment has me caught up and I almost reach for him. I almost place my hand on his heart to feel it beat. But I don’t. I clench my hands by my side and hope the feeling passes soon.
"I need to get back to work. I’ll see you at my house tomorrow?"
He said "friends" though, didn’t he? I would have to wait until dinner on Thursday to see where this was headed.
"Yeah, and dress as comfortable as you want. We’ll be climbing some stairs and I’m ordering in."
"Oh God, you’re ordering in? Remember how I said no Tucker- Evans-Lad-…"
He cuts me off "It’s not, I swear. You’ll see."
"Okay. But I’m warning you, Evans. Don’t let me down."
"Don’t worry, I won’t let you go," he says with a smile.
"I said ‘down’."
He nods. "I know what you said," he tells me with an air of determination and confidence.
And then he shoves his hands in his pockets and turns around, heading back towards the cafe.
I know that look. That look gets drafted as a first-round pick; that look wins Super Bowl championships; that look buys million-dollar homes that aren’t even for sale.
That look was for me.
I’m in trouble.
Just like the day he showed up at the lake house.