Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Tucker
For the first time this weekend, the blue sky overhead is clear and the sun is blinding.
But despite the many times I’ve made this drive, it’s never been more gorgeous than it is today.
The coffee is fresh, the cinnamon rolls from Ivy’s bakery are sweeter than ever, and I have the woman I love riding shotgun next to me.
This is what happiness looks like.
My fingers are intertwined with Gabby’s, reminding me how little sleep the two of us got last night.
But sleep was much lower on the priority list than exploring her body, learning every little thing that turned her on, and memorizing and cataloging all those delicious noises she made when I discovered a new favorite spot.
“I see why you love it here so much,” Gabby says as we round the bend and Cinnamon Creek appears before us once more.
Her gaze is glued to the windshield, and I’ve never been more thankful that Montana is showing off with its vibrant autumn colors.
If I weren’t driving, I’d steal a cinnamon-roll flavored kiss from her.
“You could love it, too.” I squeeze her hand, excited to talk about our future.
I’ve been saving the conversation until after she takes care of logistics. Despite the temptation to keep her naked in my bed all day, she insisted she had to talk to Erin before the bridal party heads to the airport in a couple of hours.
When Fred drove away with Gabby yesterday, I was angry.
I felt pulled back to that night in the park, watching that stupid fucking kiss play out before me.
I was ready to feel nice and sorry for myself, chasing away my pain with manual labor, but then in the middle of chopping wood, I spotted that fox.
And wouldn’t you know, the fucker still had Gabby’s phone clenched in his jaw. Had he not dropped it once and picked it right back up, I might have worried it was stuck.
It was a sign.
The only problem was, my only method of transportation was still parked at the rafting headquarters in town. Because I couldn’t get a hold of any of my buddies, I called Winnie and begged a favor. I needed my truck so I could get to Gabby.
But then, Gabby came to me.
“I do love Cinnamon Creek,” she admits, her cheeks stretching with her smile.
Maybe this is it. The moment I ask her to turn down that job in California so she can stay here and put down some real roots with me for the first time in both of our lives. If we figure this out now, she can tell Erin and everyone else about the new adventure we’re starting before they leave.
“Gabby—”
“Come with me, Tucker,” she says as I pull into the lodge’s parking lot.
“I thought you wanted to talk to Erin alone?” I ask, confused.
“Come with me to California.” She unbuckles her belt when I park and turns in her seat, her face beaming. “Let’s do what we always talked about. Let’s travel the country—hell, the world—together. I applied for a rafting job at the Grand Canyon next summer. Maybe you can get—”
“You want me to come with you?” The words feel like nails scraping the inside of my throat.
“Yes! We can pick up right where we left off, before that misunderstanding—”
“Gabby, I’m not leaving Cinnamon Creek. I thought you understood that?”
“You can keep a home base,” she says, as though it’s no big deal. “Imagine all the places we could go—”
“I have logs being delivered tomorrow.” And a meeting with Reid, Hudson, and Mason that may or may not make me a partner in the lodge.
It would be a shitty look for me to pick up and leave right after I convince them I’m invested in the future of the lodge.
Reid would see it as a sure sign I was falling back into old patterns.
He wouldn’t believe I was done running. That with my father gone from this world, that urge has passed for good.
I drag my hand through my hair in frustration. “I can’t go to fucking California, Gabriella.”
“Can’t or won’t?” she asks, her voice now trembling and soft.
“Both.”
“Then where does that leave us?” she asks, any trace of her earlier happiness dropping completely from her expression.
“Stay here, Gabby. With me.”
“Maybe you’re ready to settle down, Tucker, but I’m not.” She shoves open the passenger door, slamming it behind her as she marches toward the lodge.
Well fuck.
I sit there for several minutes, just staring at the sliding doors she disappeared through.
This can’t be it, can it?
Why would fate bring Gabriella back into my life after all this time only to strip her away from me again? It feels like a cruel joke.
I’m not ready to drive away, but I’m too antsy to sit here in this parking lot much longer. So I hop out of my truck and start walking, hoping the crisp autumn weather will help me get my bearings. How in the world did things go from so fucking good to so damn fucked?
A few blocks later, I’m no closer to finding any answers. But a familiar truck pulls up alongside me.
“Did you walk all the way to town?” Reid asks, ribbing me.
“Oh, now you’re available?” I fire back, not interested in talking to anyone. I’m definitely not in the headspace for jokes or anything that might threaten my grumpy ass mood.
“Yeah, get in.”
I raise an eyebrow at him in suspicion, but he just waves me over.
Because I can’t think of a good excuse to turn him down, I round the front of his truck and jump in.
He waits until we’re on a road headed out of town before he starts talking. “When were you going to tell me you bought a piece of land?”
“How did you find out?”
“It’s a small town,” Reid says. “And I thought we were friends. Why would you keep that a secret?”
“I didn’t want the lecture.”
“What lecture?”
“The one about being impulsive.”
“You’re allowed to spend that money however you want,” Reid says, referring to the unexpected inheritance I received from my dad. “God knows you’ve more than earned that right after everything that monster put you through.”
“I haven’t spent any of it yet.”
“Really? What about the RV?”
“Guy passing through sold Bertha to me for five hundred bucks because his wife threatened to divorce him if they didn’t sell it and move back home. She was tired of being on the road. I think she would’ve given it to me for free. Hard to pass up when it was cheaper than my rent.”
“And the land?”
“Annie Collins. She married a real estate tycoon in Spain who’s richer than God. She doesn’t need the money, so she quitclaimed the property to me for ten dollars. Refused to take a dime more. And get this—it includes all the logs she already ordered for the cabin build.”
“How do you do it?” Reid asks, shaking his head. “How do you just bump into people who want to just gift you shit?”
“It’s my secret superpower,” I say on a laugh.
Honestly, I don’t know how it happens. I’ve just always considered myself lucky in that sense.
But lately, that luck feels more like fate.
Which is why I can’t wrap my head around the Gabby thing.
Why would fate bring her back to me just to take her away again?
Why, when everything else in my life was finally falling into place?
“You’re building a cabin?” Reid asks.
“Starting tomorrow.”
“You’re really staying then?”
“I’m staying,” I say, though the words crack.
“What about Gabby?”
“She’s…not.”
“You sure you don’t want to go with her?” Reid asks. “No one would blame you if you did. You’ve been in love with her forever. You two always talked about traveling the world together. You have the money. Now’s your chance.”
“I’m home, man. Cinnamon Creek is the only place that’s ever truly felt that way, and now that I’ve found it, I can’t imagine leaving.
” Even for love. The thought cracks my heart in two.
“If I go with her, I’ll just end up resenting her for taking me away.
And if she stays, she’ll resent me for the same. It’s fucked.”
“Doesn’t have to be,” Reid says, his nonchalant tone off putting. I’m used to him being a grumpy pain in my ass.
“It’s too late,” I admit, pressing my head against the chilled window and peering out. But the beautiful colors are nothing more than a messy blur.
“It’s never too late,” Reid says, slamming on the brake so hard I have to brace my hand against the dashboard.
“What the fuck?”
“You need to talk to her,” Reid insists.
“About what? There’s nothing left to say.”
“You only think that because you quit the conversation halfway through.” Reid turns the truck around, heading back to town. “That’s the reason we tabled the investment meeting until Monday, by the way. Hope you’re still coming, because we want you on board.”
“You do?”
“Does that surprise you?”
“A little.”
“Well, save your shock for later. You have more important things to deal with right now.”
“Gabby walked away from me,” I say, though I already see the cracks in my weak argument.
“You left your truck at the lodge,” Reid points out. When I don’t say anything, he adds, “So go finish the fucking conversation.”