Chapter 13
NORA
WATCHING HIM from across the room, I don’t have complete control of my legs yet, he grabs his cowboy hat from the table and sets it on his head as he walks out the door. He came to my rescue. I’ve never seen a man look that angry, he looked like he wanted to kill that guy.
My heart was beating so hard. But I’m not sure if it was because of the jerk who grabbed my ass or from watching Tucker go caveman and manhandle the guy.
It turned me on.
And then when he looked at me. Oh God, I almost felt… claimed. I wasn’t sure whether I should run or wait to see what he would do next.
Is it bad that I really wanted to see what he would do next?
When he stood so close to me, I could smell his cologne, the bittersweet smell of citrus mixed with something masculine and soft, and his hazel eyes glued to mine. It was in that moment I felt the flutters low in my belly.
I’ve heard girls make jokes about climbing a man like a tree, and for the first time in my life, I felt the compulsion to do just that.
There are so many books and articles about human evolution that claim women, by nature, deep in their DNA, are attracted to men who protect and provide, but I laughed it off as ridiculous. I think I might be ridiculous.
As everyone is going back to what they were doing before the show, I shake my hands at my sides as I gain control of my legs again.
Admonishing myself, I remember why I’m even here. I can’t develop feelings for anyone. Another one of my flaws is that I can’t do casual. I always end up catching feelings and getting attached. An unfortunate fact I learned in college.
Something tells me I would get so attached to Tucker Harlow that he would live in my box of memories for the rest of my life.
My heart sinks. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched, even longer since I’ve been made to feel special. He just made me feel special. Maybe it’s just touch deprivation making me feel this way, maybe it’s just something that I need to get out of my system.
Fat chance.
Turning to go back to my section, my gaze lands on Trudy.
Her work t-shirt is knotted in the front to show her stomach, and she’s glaring at me like I just stole her boyfriend.
She’s been catty to me since day one, so I stare back at her, my eyebrows lifted in question, and hold my hands out like I’m asking her what her problem is.
She rolls her eyes and turns away.
Fine, I’m done trying to be nice to her. From now on, she’s just another person I interact with during my day.
The rest of the evening is busy and uneventful, but with a lot of tips. At the end of the night, Stony hands me a small stack of bills over the bar that’s my cut, and I fold them to put in my pocket. “Thanks, Stony.”
He nods and closes the door on the safe under the bar as he waves his hand over his shoulder. He’s a man of few words. All the lights over the bar are on, making it look much different from the dim environment during open hours.
Sammy bumps her shoulder against mine as I’m picking my purse up off a barstool. “I think you have an admirer.”
Thinking she’s talking about the scuffle earlier in the night, I shake my head as I loop my purse strap over my shoulder. “No, he would have done that for anyone.”
That’s what I’ve been telling myself all evening. Maybe if I say it enough, I’ll believe it.
She lifts her perfectly sculpted eyebrow, and an unladylike snort escapes her nose when she laughs. “I’m not talking about earlier. And you’re wrong, he wouldn’t have done that for anyone, not anymore.”
Turning to face her, I ask, “What do you mean?”
She smiles as her cool fingers wrap around my upper arms to turn me toward the front of the pub. I suck in a breath as my eyes find Tucker on the other side of the big window leaning against the driver’s side door of his tall truck, arms crossed with his fingers under his arms.
My heart flips in my chest and starts beating twice as fast.
She chuckles next to me. “He’s not here for me, babe.”
It’s after two in the morning. Why is he here?
He’s not looking into the pub; he’s focused on something up the street. Sammy and I turn our heads to look at each other, the difference is that she is smirking and waggling her eyebrows, and I’m so surprised that I don’t know what to say.
She clucks her tongue. “Told ya. An admirer.”
“What’s he doin’ here?” Trudy’s sharp, irritated voice snaps behind us, and I swing my head in her direction.
Sammy doesn’t turn to face her when she says, “Why do you think? He’s obviously here for Nora.”
Trudy roughly pushes between us on her way to the door. “You’re probably as easy as he thinks you are.”
Sammy crosses her arms over her chest and cocks her hip out. “Maybe you’ve forgot who in this room has already put out.”
My head swivels to Sammy, my eyes wide with shock, and jealousy blooms in my chest, spreading across my body like an ugly green cloud. Jealousy that has no business being there.
He and Trudy?
Gross.
Sammy warned you he’s always been a player.
I remind myself that Tucker Harlow is nothing to me, and this is the reminder I needed to hear before I walk out there. The last thing I need is to get wrapped up in games.
Trudy huffs before she mumbles, “Whatever.” Her boots clomp on the wood floor as she walks to the door. She obviously doesn’t like him… anymore, and I wonder what happened between them. And when?
Disappointment settles over me, and Sammy and I walk behind Trudy, who has her nose in the air, but also has a little extra swing in her hips under her tight denim, extra-short miniskirt as she pushes through the door.
It’s completely irrational how much I hate her right now, and I hope she trips and falls as she walks out the door.
Sammy leans close and whispers in my ear. “Don’t worry, it was a week of dating yeeeeaaars ago, heck, it wasn’t even really dating, and she’s still pissed like they were serious or something.”
Flicking my eyes to the side, toward her, my eyebrows furrowed with a smirk, I say, “Really? Years ago, and she still acts like that?”
She rolls her eyes with a smirk and nods.
Tucker looks up when the door opens, and I don’t miss the scowl that passes over his face when Trudy walks by him to get to her car. When his head turns and his eyes meet mine, all the jealousy and my resolve to ignore him melt away.
I don’t know how to explain it; every time he looks at me, when our eyes meet, I feel a pull to him. He manages to completely disarm me. Deep inside, something yearns to be close to him.
Also, I find it hard to connect the serious, grumpy man in front of me with everyone’s perception of him as a playboy who takes nothing serious - especially women.
Sammy squeezes my wrist as she passes in front of me to go in the opposite direction to her car. My eyes flick to hers, and she has a sly grin on her face as she winks at me.
Tucker pushes off his truck when I get to the edge of the sidewalk and slides his hands in his pockets. He’s switched the cowboy hat and the button-down shirt he wore to dinner earlier for a baseball hat and a t-shirt that stretches across his chest.
I look up and down the dimly lit, empty street to see if maybe he’s here with someone. It’s kind of hard to believe that he’s here for me in the middle of the night. Clearing my throat, I’ve always hated that nervous habit, I ask, “What are you doing here?”
He moves to the front fender, his boots scraping against the concrete, and stops just a couple of feet away from me in front of the big tire. His limp is slight tonight. Since I’m standing on the edge of the curb, I’m almost tall enough to be eye level with him.
His cologne dances on the cool breeze in my direction, and I try to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. He’s trimmed the scruff on his face since Thursday and shaved all the stubble off his neck. He’s handsome, and part of me lights up at the possibility he might have done it for me.
Looking down at his boots, he rubs the back of his neck with his palm and looks away for a second before bringing his gaze back to me. “Just wanted to make sure you got home okay, that none of those guys came back to make trouble.”
Rumors are that Tucker Harlow is a playboy, but right now, nothing about him resembles a playboy. On the contrary, what I’m seeing right now is a man who is unsure and possibly even shy.
He’s gone out of his way to ensure I’m okay. How far do players go to get a piece of ass?
Maybe I can just have a fling without the attachment.
Right… dream on.
Ignoring the mental ping-pong between what I’ve heard and what I see, and what I should do and what I shouldn’t do, I focus on the fact he came back to town in the middle of the night to make sure I’m okay.
Clasping my hands in front of me, I shake my head. “They didn’t come back.”
Nodding his head, his eyes drop to the ground. “Good.”
Silence stretches between us for a few moments, and I’m not sure I’ve ever had such an awkward encounter with a man. If I didn’t know better, I would say the nervous feelings swirling around us are coming from some kind of inner battle he’s having.
Maybe he doesn’t really want to be here. Maybe he’s regretting coming back right now and doesn’t know what to say.
Feeling the need to let him off the hook, I sigh. “You didn’t have to come back here, the inn is just a five-minute walk, and there are streetlights the whole way.” I wave my hand in the inn’s direction, and he turns his head to look down the street lined with tall lampposts.
Squinting his eyes like he does, he takes a slow, deep breath, his head still turned in the direction of the inn.
I’m not sure what to say, and I can tell he’s uncomfortable. He’s put both hands in his front pockets, and his shoulders are closer to his ears. He almost looks… afraid.
“Okay, well, thanks for checking on me. I’ll see you later.” I give him a small wave and turn to walk down the sidewalk.