Chapter 5
WE DON’T BLUR THE LINES.
Tucker
Seven Stools is quieter than usual for a weeknight, which is odd given that we have a couple of dozen people now scattered across different rentals around town.
I’m not complaining about it—as long as they don’t start arguing over the jukebox or convincing me that Fireball is considered top-shelf whiskey.
But I love entertaining them when that argument starts.
I enjoy working at the bar after a day of construction work. I started here the day after I turned twenty-one to help Griffin. He hates working evening hours because it attracts a different group of people that he doesn’t have the patience for.
Me? I don’t mind because I fit right in with them.
I’m good at both of my jobs and it keeps my hands busy.
When my hands are busy, it means my head is quieter.
I’m halfway through wiping down the pint glasses fresh out of the dishwasher when the bell chimes over the door. Griffin hates that bell, and every time it goes off, I smile to myself and add one more person to the count in my head.
Looking over, I see Nan strutting through the door like she owns the place. Some days, I wonder if she thinks she owns the town. She’s everywhere; a gossip queen and professional meddler. She somehow always seemed to know things before everyone else does.
“Talkative Tucker.” She beams, taking a seat at the bar. “Don’t you look chipper this evening.”
“I’m always chipper.” I laugh. “What are you doing here so late? Don’t you have your recorded soaps to watch?”
“They’re recorded, Tucker. Means I can watch ’em whenever I please.”
“Valid point.”
“I’ll take a glass of water, two lemons, and extra ice.
” She nods, and I shake my head, laughing.
I fix her drink, setting it in front of her, then brace myself.
Because if there’s one thing about Nan we know, it’s that she never shows up out of the blue without a hidden agenda. “So, how’s your new tenant doing?”
And there it is.
“Don’t know. I’ve been working.”
Which isn’t a complete lie. Between finishing up some projects around town before this big renovation starts, and working here every night, my hours blurred together.
“You mean to tell me that you—Talkative Tucker—haven’t gone over there, knocked on the door, and introduced yourself?”
I sigh. “Nan, I worked all day yesterday finishing up a house then meeting the crew at the house on Redwood Ave for the show in the afternoon, only to wake up at the crack of dawn again today to lay foundation for Frank across town. Then I came right here. I don’t know what to say other than I haven’t even been home. ”
I know I’m the one who agreed to let someone stay at the apartment above my garage after Nan begged me, but deep down, seeing my new tenant will only make it clear that I’m no longer alone on my quiet property.
Which sounds dumb, but for years it’s been my sanctuary.
It’s the one place I can let my guard down.
The one place where I can sit in my own grief without judgment or pity.
The one place where I don’t have to hide behind being the guy who makes people laugh.
No one has any idea how much time I spend actually trying to fool those around me.
I will never let anyone close enough to see through my jokes, to the mess underneath.
That would be dangerous.
Because if anyone really saw the cracks in my armor, there’s no chance they’d stick around.
“Tucker,” she groans, drawing out my name. “She’s very sweet. Very pretty. The type of gal to bring sunshine into this town. You’ll like her.”
I freeze at her words. Not at the word she—I’d already swallowed that surprise. But at the rest of it.
Sweet. Pretty. Sunshine.
Only one woman in bright colors comes to mind.
The one who seemed to slip under my skin before I could stop it.
Truth be told, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since the night we met.
In any capacity. Scottie rocked my world in San Francisco—and again yesterday when I saw her at the house.
It only confirmed that the spark I felt was something no one could deny or try to hide.
“That’s nice,” I settle on, grabbing the dish rag and wiping the counter.
“Careful,” Nan warns. “You’re coming off like Grumpy Griffin. Sometimes I think you prefer the company of your tools over—”
“At least they don’t talk back.”
She points a finger in my direction. “You can’t fool me.”
I feign shock. “I’d never try to do that.”
“Pull out your phone so you can take her number down, smart-ass,” Nan says. “And at least check in on her since she’s been there for well over twenty-four hours now and the owner hasn’t so much as stopped by.” She dramatically rolls her eyes dramatically.
Nan tells me her number from memory like she’s known it her whole life, while I type it in my phone.
As I’m about to put it down, Nan stops me. “Whoa. You didn’t text her.”
“I will when I leave here.”
“That’s like midnight.”
I tip my head back, and exhale a sigh. “Fine.”
Me
Hey. Nan gave me your number. Since you’re staying at my place, I wanted to check in on you. Sorry, I’ve been busy with work and haven’t stopped by.
I hold up the screen toward Nan. “Happy now?”
She shakes her head. “Real smooth. You’re just as bad as Griffin with texting.”
I scowl in her direction because there is no one in the world as bad as Griffin at texting. He doesn’t even spell out full words and leaves you to decipher every message he sends. The word you, is literally “u.”
“What do you want me to say? You asked me to check in on her, so I am.”
My phone buzzes almost immediately.
Unknown
Hey there. Thank you so much for reaching out. Your text came at the perfect time because I was hoping to get a chance to meet with you about the door to the apartment. It keeps getting jammed.
Me
Sorry about that. I meant to take care of it. I’ll get it fixed tomorrow.
“Done,” I tell Nan. “We had a conversation. Now are you happy?”
Her lips twitch like she wants to smile, but she stops herself.
Sitting back on her stool, she crosses her arms over her chest. “Almost. But she’s a busy girl.
Since she’s awake and texting you, maybe you should bring her a burger from the bar on your way home.
I doubt she made it to the General Store. ”
My phone buzzes again just as I’m about to concede to Nan’s idea.
Unknown
Thank you so much. I’m Scottie by the way.
My fingers go numb around my phone and my chest drops so hard it feels like gravity just doubled. Hearing that Scottie is the one staying in the apartment above my garage is a whole new feeling.
The woman who laughed into my neck in a hotel room in San Francisco as I tore the bright yellow blazer off her.
A woman I left in tangled sheets because I didn’t trust myself to stay.
A woman who stood in front of me yesterday morning and looked at me like I was nothing more than an inconvenient memory.
A woman I have not been able to get out of my head for a single fucking day since.
Nan clears her throat but I don’t look at her. If I look at her, she’ll see it—the shock. The way my pulse is suddenly everywhere.
Before I can write back or save her name in my contacts, my phone buzzes again.
Unknown
Also, is there anywhere good around town that’s open late for something to eat?
I turn my phone again toward Nan. “Are you telling her to ask me this?”
“No.” Nan covers her face with her hands and laughs.
“You know I don’t carry that cell phone with me anywhere.
I don’t need it when I remember numbers right here.
” She taps a finger to her temple as she stands from the barstool.
“Let’s just add this to the list of all the times I’m right. Which is always.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Bring that girl some food and be a good landlord. They’re harder to find than good lumber,” she says, walking toward the exit.
She pauses just before the doors and faces me.
“I know you try to hide it, but I see you, Tucker. You have a habit of trying to keep to yourself. Try not to do that with her.”
I don’t get a chance to respond before she’s out the door.
I look from the closed door and back down to the phone in my hand, staring at her message.
Would it be so bad if I just brought her home some food?
Not because Nan pushed and not because it’s the polite thing to do. But because I know what it feels like to be dropped into a strange place and act like you’re fine when you’re not.
If I’m honest, it would give me an excuse to stop pretending I’m not already thinking about her. About the way I heard her laugh coming out of the old abandoned house.
It’s just food, I tell myself.
Nothing complicated.
But the truth in my thoughts settles in my gut. I don’t want this to be just about being a landlord. I want to see her.
Me
I can bring you something on my way home. It’ll be late though…close to midnight.
Scottie
Are you serious? That sounds perfect. You’re a lifesaver. I’m swamped with work so I’ll be up for a while.
Me
How does a burger sound?
Scottie
So good! I can give you cash when you get here.
Yeah. I won’t be taking her money.
For the first time in a long time, I can’t wait to get the hell out of here.
It’s just before midnight when I pull into my driveway, parking closer to my garage than I usually do.
My headlights illuminate the gravel as I park my truck on the side of the driveway closest to my house.
The air is cooler than usual for the summer, and the world is quiet.
Exactly what I crave after working all day.
The porch light I left on this morning casts a light glow across the yard.
My body aches, and I smell like a mix of wood, whiskey, and grease from the kitchen.
All I want to do is shower, grab a beer, and sit in the dark like a man twice my age.
Working two jobs means I’m barely home long enough to sleep, but now feels different. It feels like coming home to someone.