Chapter 29
I’M JUST DOING IT IN MY TONE.
Tucker
Feels weird to be at Seven Stools for lunch and not be in a rush to get to a job site.
I sit in my usual spot when I come in for lunch, but instead of Levi next to me, it’s Dallas. Griffin stops in front of us with a scowl on his face and aggressively wipes down the counter that’s already clean.
“You good?” Dallas asks him.
He shakes his head. “I can’t fucking stand out of towners sometimes. That couple over there”—he tips his head to gesture to the table in the corner— “rude as hell. The woman criticized me for the limited choices we have on the menu and basically bashed the entire town in her rant.”
“I’ve been telling you for years that you have—”
Griffin cuts me off with a low growl, while Dallas laughs behind his hand.
“I often wonder who these people think they are with their entitlement when they come to a small town like this,” Griffin continues, pointing a finger in my direction before sliding an ice water across the bar for me.
“You guys always wonder why I hate the out of towners? Well, here’s example nine hundred. ”
I twist my head over my shoulder to get a good look at them. Just by looking at them, I can tell they’re stuck-up in a way that says they’re too good for a place like this. I hate people like that, too.
“Are you eating today?” Griffin asks. “You’re running out of time because you don’t have that long of a break.”
“You know me so well.” I smile widely. “But not today. I’m off. Tomorrow I’ll go back to finish the siding on Scottie’s property to be ready for the final episode.”
He narrows his eyes.
“I…” I pause, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “I needed a break, I guess.”
He’s not buying it. I can tell by the way he’s still staring at me. The last time he offered me a break, I had to actually fight him on it.
“You do look like hell.”
“It’s sooo nice to see you too, Grumpy Griffin.”
He smirks. “I’m serious. You look like you got into a fist fight with your own brain.”
I stare down at the water in front of me, gripping the glass with both hands because his comment lands a little too close to the truth.
Dallas shifts next to me, clearing his throat. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Or do you want me to keep insulting you until you crack?” Griffin adds.
This isn’t unusual—the banter.
Because this is what they know me for. Even with knowing my past, I keep the rest hidden from the world. On purpose. Because this? I like this. I like joking back and forth until we all smile and laugh. I like being the reason people smile and laugh around me.
Because of that…I huff a quiet breath. “You’re very supportive.”
“I’m a gift,” Griffin says, hand to his chest.
Dallas places a hand on my shoulder. “Now, talk.”
I glance past Griffin at the bottles lining the wall, but I can see the way Griffin’s shoulders go still, like he’s bracing for whatever I might admit out loud.
And it’s fucking weird.
I’ve been carrying it for so long myself that I don’t know what it sounds like outside of my own head. It felt different talking to Scottie about it in the comfort of my own home.
“I’m not…” I clear my throat. “I’m not good. I haven’t been for a while.”
Dallas doesn’t flinch or try to fix it. He just nods in understanding because he recently allowed me to open up on the anniversary of the house fire after a little league game we had.
“No shit,” Griffin says flatly.
I shoot him a pointed look. “You’re supposed to be comforting.”
“I am. I’m just doing it in my tone.”
I shake my head, feeling my shoulders relax a bit. This was exactly the response I didn’t know I needed from him. Griffin is there, but in the way he knows I will respond to better.
When I don’t answer, his jaw tightens. “How bad was it, Tucker?”
I hesitate even though the memory of it is so fresh. My body feels tense remembering the way my lungs refused to breathe for me, the way my body shook like it didn’t belong to me, and the sickening panic like I was falling from the second story all over again.
“The darkest it’s ever been,” I say, barely loud enough for them to hear.
But they do.
They hear every word.
Dallas pauses with his glass halfway to his lips, and Griffin’s hand stills on the towel he was just using to wipe his hands.
“Tucker,” Griffin breathes out.
“Why didn’t you call us?” Dallas says almost at the same time.
I shake my head. “I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to even think logically. I knew I couldn’t be alone. I knew I needed something. The closest person was Scottie.”
Both of their features soften, bodies relaxing. Neither of them look surprised.
I can almost feel it again now.
My head on her shoulder and the way she held me.
Her hands on my face, anchoring me.
The way she didn’t ask questions.
“She stayed with me,” I continue. “She didn’t ask questions or run.”
I feel the emotions thick in my chest. The feelings coming to the surface I’ve been fighting for so long. Knowing she stayed, and saying it out loud is two different things.
It’s acknowledging everything at once.
She fucking stayed.
Dallas whistles low. “Well, look at you. Emotionally vulnerable.”
I smile at the teasing—again, exactly what I need. “Don’t start.”
“That’s a big deal, Tucker,” Griffin says, and when I turn to face him, his mouth is curved into a faint grin.
The bell over the entrance chimes, and Griffin groans.
But for the first time, I don’t laugh. He notices. Of course he does.
Dallas elbows me. “You want to tell him? Or are we going to keep pretending you keep it up because you like pissing him off?”
“But I do like pissing him off.”
Dallas laughs. “Oh, we know.”
But when my gaze lands on Griffin, his face is hard, concerning.
“It’s not just to piss you off,” I say, trying like hell to keep the teasing tone. “I…uh…I like to keep track of how many people come in and out. I like to know that if there was ever an emergency here…” Like a fire. “Then I know how many people I need to get out.”
Something like understanding morphs in Griffin’s features.
But he doesn’t say anything.
Instead, he drops the dish rag and walks away, right into the kitchen.
I run a hand through my hair, worried I said too much. Maybe I should have kept it to myself like everything else. He doesn’t need to carry this the way I’ve always carried it. He doesn’t need to think about what’s going through my head every time he hears the chime of the bell now.
Dammit.
“Don’t stress about him, Tucker,” Dallas says next to me, hooking an arm around my neck and pulling me into him. “He just needs a breather. You know we got you.”
“Are you hugging me? Is Dallas Westbrook really hugging me?”
He barks out a laugh. “There’s my weird friend.” He releases me from his hold, clapping a hand on my back. “For what it’s worth, you know I’m always here for you. You know if you need anything, I’ll drop whatever to be there in a heartbeat. We’re family now.”
I purse my lips. “Are you going to marry my cousin? Say yes.” I throw up prayer hands.
He rolls his eyes. “Here I am trying to be a good friend.”
I turn in my chair, fully facing him, and grab his face in mine. “You’re my bestest friend, Dallas.” I reach up and press a kiss to his forehead.
He backs away quickly, swatting me off. “If you ever fucking do that again, you’re going to be demoted from that title real fast.”
I laugh, and it feels so good.
It’s not the fake kind that I put on for show either. This is my family, and they’re doing exactly what they know I need. Lightening the mood. Making me laugh. Allowing me the chance to joke. Allowing me to be myself. It’s not because they don’t care, it’s because they do care.
“Now, before Griff gets back. Scottie. Talk to me,” Dallas says.
I sigh. “I wish I understood what I’m feeling, Dallas. Everything is so new for me. It’s so intense. It’s…”
“Love.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Do you think about her a lot?” I nod. “Do you find yourself wanting to do things with her—be near her?” I nod again. “Does your heart race when she touches you?”
“I’m not telling you about how she touches me, Dallas.”
He rolls his eyes. “I actually fucking hate you.”
“No, you don’t. You love me,” I singsong, but he ignores me, taking a sip of his drink.
“Truly? My heart does circles when she’s around me.
It feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. My brain can’t think unless she’s in the room.
When I see her, all I want is to be near her, hear her laugh, anything. ”
“As I said,” he says, smirking over the rim of his glass. “Love, buddy. That’s love.”
I open my mouth to say more, but the kitchen doors swing open.
So fast that they bounce against the wall, nearly hitting Griffin in the face again.
He still looks angry, but…less? He stomps to where I’m sitting, forcing me to sit up straighter in my seat.
Bracing himself with two hands on the bar, stance wide and demanding, I look him in the eyes.
“You listen to me, and you listen good,” Griffin says, finger in my face.
“Oh boy,” Dallas murmurs, almost turning his body away from us.
“I fucking love you,” he states boldly. Reaching across the bar, he grips the neck of my shirt. “You hear that? I love you. You’re the brother I never had, and never wanted,” he says, relaxing a bit and almost laughing at himself.
“Slow down, Grizzly Griffin,” Dallas says, placing a hand between us.
I snap a finger in his direction. “Oh, that was good, Dallas. We gotta tell Nan that one.”
Griffin almost growls. “No. You aren’t deflecting right now.
And listen…” He pauses, gathering his thoughts, and his body relaxes a bit.
“I’m not going to make this about me, because it isn’t.
This is about you. But you have no idea how much that pained me to hear, and everything you’ve been carrying all these years.
Years, Tucker. We’re family. If you have baggage, then it’s our job to help you carry the load.
Please. Fucking please, don’t do this alone anymore. ”
For half a second, my body reacts like it always does. Deflect, grin, make a joke. Something easy to bring the conversation back to where it’s safe.
But his words hit so hard, he may as well have punched me in the sternum.
I know Griffin’s not angry at me.
He’s angry at the years of silence and the fact I’ve been metaphorically bleeding out quietly and pretending I’m fine.
My eyes sting, and I blink hard, because absolutely fucking not.
I will not cry at my place of employment.
I will not cry in front of these two. But there’s nothing that can stop it.
“I promise,” I choke out, swatting away anything rolling down my cheek.
Looking anywhere but them. I clear my throat. “I promise. No more doing it alone.”
“Brothers.” Griffin nods.
“Brothers.”
And deep down, I’ve always seen him that way.
He was never just a cousin to me.
“Now…Scottie.”
“We went there already,” Dallas cuts in, and Griffin raises an eyebrow.
I sigh. “Apparently, this is called love.”
He smiles so wide, you’d think Blair walked into the bar, but she didn’t.
“And did you tell her?”
I shake my head.
“You probably should.” Griffin shrugs.
I feel air trap itself in my lungs at the idea of even telling her how I’m feeling when I can’t even seem to describe it myself. This started off as a faking a relationship for her show. Harmless…fucking harmless.
I should have known that pretending with Scottie would lead to more—something real. But my only focus was on doing this for her and making her dream home come to life. So I can prove to people I’m reliable. I can prove to her I won’t mess this up.
I don’t know the first thing about love.
What do I do if she says she doesn’t feel the same way?
There’s only one way to find out.