17. Tucker
Tucker
Four Weeks and Five Days until the Rodeo
It’s been two days since Gracie and I visited the arena; two days since the last time I was able to think straight.
Although even that could be wrong—I don’t know if I’ve ever been able to think straight around Gracie.
At any rate, two days ago was the last time I remember being able to think straight.
Since then, my mind’s been a chaotic, hurricane blend of the two versions of Gracie: images of her then and now, memories of the way she felt beneath my skin then and now, the sound of her release then and now.
It all plays on an endless loop, keeping me from thinking of anything but her.
I grab my phone off the kitchen table and pull up our text thread. A welcome warmth spreads across my skin when I see the unchanged contact name.
Me
You got any free time this morning? I’m thinking we should go over some of the floorplans and vendor details.
Sweetheart
Morning to you too, Tucker. I could meet you in an hour or so?
Me
Good morning, sweet ray of sunshine, light of my life. Better?
It’s a date. Meet you at the diner?
Sweetheart
Much. Let’s veto the diner. Can I come to you? I’d suggest here, but Dad’ll be breathing down our necks with intrigue the second you arrive.
Me
Back up–what’s wrong with the diner? And Randy and I are old friends, that wouldn’t bother me in the least.
After several seconds of silence, my phone rings in my hand.
The picture that flashes on the screen makes my heart skip a beat.
Skip a fucking beat, like some shit out of a romance book.
But it’s the only way to explain the physical reaction that comes from seeing the picture of Gracie and I before our senior prom.
We’re standing in front of my old truck, Gracie in her sapphire-blue ball gown and me in a black suit with a matching tie.
She’s tucked under my arm with one hand on my back and the other on my chest, beaming as her dad takes the photo, her happiness almost palpable through the camera.
I’m smiling, too, but not at Randy.
No, my attention is solely on the beauty beneath my arm.
It’s been a long time since I’ve let myself look at this picture—we were so young and carefree back then, our whole lives ahead of us.
It’s almost painful looking at this, knowing what the next year held.
The couple in this image would refuse to believe it if you told them.
Hell, I still find it hard to believe sometimes.
Thinking about that period of my life breaks my heart all over again.
The image disappears.
Shit, I missed the call. I hit redial, and Gracie picks up on the first ring.
“Figured this was a conversation better suited for a phone call than texts,” she says by way of greeting.
“Hello to you, too.”
She huffs, and I smile. “Hello, Tucker. Shine of the sun rays, or whatever bullshit you said.”
I laugh loudly, caught off guard. Gracie joins in a moment later.
“Anyway,” she continues having caught her breath, “point of the call was to explain my vetoing of the diner. I know most of the town knows we’re heading this event up together, but what they don’t know is how, uh, intimate, we’ve been recently.
And I’ll be damned if they find out because we’re sitting there like two love-struck teenagers who can’t stop staring into each other’s eyes. ”
“I dunno about you, but I think I could sit there perfectly fine. I wouldn’t be sittin’ there in public thinking about the way you got off on my fingers two days ago. And I definitely wouldn’t be imagining repeating that. But I understand if you couldn’t do the same.”
I’m a stone-cold liar, and her answering silence tells me she knows it.
Even now, standing alone in my kitchen, my cock is at half-mast just saying those things out loud.
I’d be fucking doomed in public. The last thing I need is Dottie keeling over with a heart attack after seeing my boner through my jeans.
“Can I come to the ranch or not?” she grits out.
“You’re welcome here anytime, Gracie. There’s a driveway just past the old tree we used to make out under; turn there and you’ll end up at my place.”
There’s a muffled choking sound on the other end of the line. I smirk.
Tucker: 1
Gracie: 0
“Very descriptive landmark. Thanks, Tucker,” she deadpans.
“Well you’re most welcome, Gracie. Wouldn’t want you getting lost, and figured you’d know that tree pretty well.”
“See you in an hour.”
The line clicks dead, but it can’t wipe the smile off my face.
I don’t remember the last time I was this nervous.
I’m a pretty confident guy—always have been—except, it would seem, around an adult Grace Clark.
Oh, who am I kidding? She made me nervous as hell as a teenager too.
But the nerves I’m feeling now are different to those; better.
Because for the first time since I turned my back on her, the future holds promise.
Gravel crunching beneath tires signals Gracie’s arrival, pulling me from my musings and launching me right back into feeling nervous.
I watch from the front door as she climbs out of her RAV4 and glances around with a small smile, and it dawns on me that this is the first time she’s seeing my place.
Of course, she’s visited the ranch itself more times than I could count, but my property didn’t exist until a few years after she left town.
Something changes in her demeanor as her gaze lands on the wraparound porch.
The smile she wore moments ago has slipped away, leaving a slightly agape expression in its wake.
She wanders up to the small set of stairs at the base of the porch, her eyes continuing to trace the banister.
I know exactly why—I don’t know if I’ll ever have the guts to admit it to her out loud, but it’s the exact porch we always spoke about when we discussed our future dream family home on the ranch.
When I drew up the plans for this place, the porch was first; my only non-negotiable.
That way, even if she never came back to me, I’d always have a piece of Gracie with me.
“Hey, you,” I say, leaning against the door frame as she stops in front of me.
“Hey yourself,” she replies, still distracted by the porch. “This place is incredible, Tuck.”
I duck my head earnestly. “Thank you, but I can’t take all the credit. Dec did the hard stuff, I just drew a few shitty pictures and made some color choices. Wait ‘til you see the rest of it.” Taking a step back, I extend an arm toward the hall, inviting her in. “After you.”
The subtle scent of peach wafts over me as Gracie strolls past, but the aroma is long forgotten when I get a glimpse of her from the back.
I don’t know how I haven’t noticed before now, but fucking hell, this woman has an ass made for jeans—it’s perfectly rounded, filling out the denim like it was custom made.
I’d follow her right into the gates of hell if it meant looking at this view.
She looks back at me over her shoulder with a smirk before I have time to pick my jaw up off the floor. “You comin’, cowboy?”
Now that’s a blast from the fucking past. I’ve been called cowboy many times by many folk, but it never sounded as sweet as it does falling from Gracie’s lips. Her southern accent is less pronounced than it used to be, but it slips through now.
“Y-yeah,” I mumble, taking my hat off to run a hand through my hair and slide it back on again with a slow exhale. Pull yourself together.
We spend the next fifteen minutes wandering throughout the house. Gracie spends the whole time looking at everything I point out, and I spend the whole time looking at her.
“I can’t believe this is your home, Tucker. It’s like something out of a dream.” She sounds almost solemn, looking around the kitchen as we take a seat at the breakfast bar. I don’t miss the way her gaze falls back on the porch.
“Kinda like a dream from another life,” I say beneath my breath without thinking, immediately hoping she didn’t hear me. Best to push on just in case. “Dec did such a great job with this place that it was a no brainer to recruit him for the school renovation when Rhett and I bought the old barn.”
“I won’t lie, I was a little shocked when Whit first told me about the school. But you always were so great with your siblings, and all the younger kids around town loved you to bits, so it actually makes a lot of sense—you’re kind of perfect for the job.”
I let out a low chuckle. “It’s funny you say that actually, because never in a hundred years did I think I’d be doin’ something like teaching kids.
” I lower my graze, locking eyes with Gracie and giving her a private smile, the kind I save just for her.
“You always did know me better than I knew myself.”
It’s like I have no control of the words coming out my mouth when I’m with her.
I don’t think, I just say. I’m scared that one day I’ll say something I can’t take back.
Maybe she’ll be gone before that happens.
But just the thought of that, of her being gone again, threatens to rip something open inside me.
“I think I would’ve said the same thing about you; we knew each other inside and out.” Gracie’s voice pulls me from the spiraling state I was on the precipice of.
“Speakin’ of work,” I say, using this as the perfect segue, “I wanna hear all about your big shot city job. Is it everything you dreamed of?”
Her expression falls into something indiscernible, and she fiddles with the rodeo paperwork spread across the table, eyes downcast. “It pays really well, and the team is great,” she responds.
I reach across, placing my hand on hers. The fiddling ceases as she draws her eyes up to look at me. “That’s great, sweetheart, but that’s not what I asked.”
She lets out a sigh, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s a perfectly fine job, it’s just not what I thought it’d be. It’s far more people-management than I’d ever anticipated. I miss the event organization aspect.”
“If what you’re doing for this rodeo is anything to go by, that’s where your heart is. That’s where your passion lies. And if you ain’t got passion, you ain’t got shit.”
The smile she gives me reaches her eyes this time. “Honestly, Tucker, working on this event has been the eye-opener I didn’t know I needed. This,” she gestures to the mix of floor plans, event orders and run sheets, “is what I love.”
I can’t help but mirror her expression. It’s been a hell of a long time since I’ve seen that light in her eyes. Once, long ago, we had that when we looked at one another. What I wouldn’t give to have that again.
“Right,” she continues, her tone all business. “Let’s check over all of this, shall we?”
I nod. “You’re the expert here, so just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
After laying out each piece of paper until it covers the entire breakfast bar, we get to work cross-checking. I’m halfway through confirming market stall holder details when Gracie grunts across the bar. “You good?”
“Yeah… no. I can’t figure out what’s what on this damn arena floor plan,” she huffs, pointing to a sheet of paper near the edge.
I stifle a laugh. “That’s because it’s upside down. Here,” I say, turning it around. “Try now.”
With her head tilted and her lips between her teeth, Gracie examines it carefully. Not thirty seconds later, she’s rolling her eyes and grunting again.
“Let’s take a look.” I stand, walking around until I’m by her side.
The moment I get close to her, my senses are completely overwhelmed in the most delightful way.
My body is screaming at me for being so close to her, and yet not touching her.
I reach over her shoulder to maneuver the piece of paper, my hand grazing hers.
She doesn’t move it immediately, as though she’s just as entranced as I am, but then jerks it away.
“There,” I say practically against her cheek, straightening up the floor plan.
Gracie turns her head, our faces suddenly inches apart.
My breath catches in my throat as I watch her eyes dart down to my lips, lingering for a moment before dragging back to my eyes.
I find myself mirroring her, my attention drawn to her plump lips and back to her bright blue eyes.
There’s a depth to them that wasn’t there before, something almost sinister.
It speaks directly to my cock, rerouting all the blood in my body to it.
“Gracie, sweetheart, you can’t look at me like that and expect me to keep my hands to myself.” I barely recognize my own voice, thick with desire.
That pretty mouth drops open and her eyes widen. I don’t miss the way her pupils dilate, lust swimming through the deep blue irises. “Tucker, I – I,” she hesitates.
“What is it?” My heart is pounding in my ears as anticipation gets the better of me.
“Wh-what if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?
” Her voice is so low, so hesitant. I don’t blame her for her hesitation at all.
We aren’t just two people with sexual chemistry bubbling between us.
We’re Gracie and Tuck. We’re a dream that came true once, asking for a second chance, and I’ll be damned if it isn’t the scariest shit I’ve ever wished for.
Her gaze drops to my lips momentarily, then back up to meet mine. It’s when she swipes her tongue across her top lip, without breaking eye contact, that something inside me cracks.
I’m on her within seconds, our limbs tangling with one another’s in between the legs of the stool.
Paper goes flying when Gracie slides her elbows onto the countertop, anchoring her beneath my kiss, but I couldn’t give a shit about the mess.
Gracie’s lips are on mine again, and that’s all that matters right now.
Hell, it might be all that will ever matter.
If hers are the only lips I kiss for the rest of my life, it wouldn’t be nearly long enough.