Tucker
Two Weeks and Six Days until the Rodeo
I’m talking myself off a ledge for most of the ten-minute drive from my side of town to the Clark’s.
By the time I park up in front of their house, I’ve talked myself in and out of the evening at least three times.
I spent many of my teenage years having dinners with Gracie and Randy, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever get that chance again.
I have half a mind to turn around and run when I hit the doorbell and hear it chime inside, but a painful flashback of the last time I did that stops me dead in my tracks.
God, I can’t even imagine what Gracie would think if she opened the door to find me retreating like a child.
One at a time, I wipe my clammy palms down the sides of my jeans, passing the small bouquet between them as I do.
Footsteps approach on the other side of the door.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, letting it out just as the front door opens to reveal Gracie.
She’s swimming in an oversized flannel shirt, with just her fingertips peeking out the cuffs.
It’s tucked into a pair of denim cut offs that fit her like a damn glove, and I swear I feel my cock twitch beneath my jeans at the sight.
Maybe one day her beauty won’t have such an effect on me, but goddamn, I hope it always does.
Even fifty years from now, when we’re old and grey, I can’t imagine thinking she’s anything other than the most beautiful woman in the world.
I can’t help but smile when I look down at her feet and find she’s in nothing but a pair of fluffy socks. Regardless of the temperature or season, Gracie’s preference was always fluffy socks inside—I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed over the years.
The flowers capture her attention immediately, her jaw dropping ajar. When her eyes roam up to meet mine, a carefree smile breaks across my face. My heartrate spikes when she mirrors it. She ducks her head slightly as a crimson blush creeps across her cheeks.
“Here,” I say, holding out the flowers, “these’re for you.”
Gracie raises her head slowly, wide-eyed as she tucks a curl behind her ear. “They are?”
I chuckle lightly. “Of course. I mean, unless you’d rather I gave them to Randy.”
“He’s not much of a flower guy, but you might change his mind.” She shrugs, giggling.
“I think I’d rather you have them this time, if that’s okay with you? They used to be your favorite.”
There’s a twinkle in her eye as she silently gazes at me.
Enthralled, I watch her watching me, her gaze flickering across my face.
“They still are,” she almost whispers. With a scrunch of her nose, she grins and takes the flowers from me.
I don’t miss the way we both jerk slightly when our fingers touch, sharing a laugh when we both pull away.
“Gracie, Tucker, are y’all comin’ in off that porch or am I eatin’ alone?” Randy calls from inside the house, extending our laughter.
“Comin’, Dad.”
“Be right there, Randy.”
“Lead the way,” I say with a wink, but immediately regret it when Gracie turns around and I see just how well the cut offs fit her.
Jesus Christ. I pause for a moment, closing my eyes and thinking of the least attractive things I can manage, because there ain’t no way I’m going in there with a hard dick.
Below deck situation under control, I make my way to the kitchen, where Randy’s perched haphazardly on a stool, plating up dinner. “Hey, kid. Figured we’d have an early dinner because I’m damn hungry, so I hope you are, too.”
“Sounds perfect,” I respond, clapping him on the shoulder in greeting.
Gracie tends to the bouquet, unwrapping them and sending stem pieces flying as she trims them. “They from you?” Randy asks me.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good man,” he says under his breath. I bite back a smile.
Once Gracie pops the flowers in a vase and sets them in the middle of the table, I help her grab the plates.
“Right, kids.” Randy claps his hands and rubs them together. “Let’s eat.”
There’s casual sections of conversation spread throughout the meal, but a lot of it is spent eating in comfortable silence. Once we’ve all finished, sitting there with full hearts and bellies, Randy kicks off the conversation properly.
“So, I’ve had the rundown from Gracie here about the big Rodeo Festival, but I wanna hear from you about it, Tuck. How’ve you found the whole plannin’ process?”
“I take very little credit for any of the planning part, Randy. If it weren’t for this one,” I say, nodding at a blushing Gracie, “I think we’d be in a world of trouble right now.”
Gracie just shakes her head. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
“I sure do,” Randy replies with a laugh. “You’ve got a real knack for this stuff, kiddo. Always did.”
Watching the way he smiles at his daughter as he pats the top of her hand, and how she smiles back at him shyly, warms my damn heart.
“Can we please talk about something other than how wonderful I am? You’ll give me a big head.” Gracie can’t stop grinning as she speaks.
“Alright,” Randy concedes. “But only ‘cause I’d hate for you to not fit through doorframes.”
Gracie feigns a gasp and softly punches her dad’s shoulder, while Randy just grins in return.
There’s a dull ache in my chest thinking about my own dad, and how I never got to experience being an adult alongside him.
But I’ve always had Randy in my corner, looking out for me, and I’ll always be grateful for that.
“What are those siblings of yours up to lately, Tuck?” Randy pulls me back into the conversation. “Outside of the festival business o’course.”
“Rhett and Whit are both keepin’ busy with work—Rhett’s been working with Dec on external developments for the school.
He wants to build a stockyard of sorts out the back.
And Whit’s lovin’ her freelancing side gig lately.
Kenny’s had her doin’ some content for the pageantry school, and they’ve seen some real growth in views.
Whit says now they just have to work on converting that into clients. ”
Gracie smiles sweetly at me from across the table. “Whit was telling me about that the other week. Sounds like she really enjoys it, and she’s good at it. What more could you ask for, really?”
“Yeah,” I say, rubbing my hand across the back of my neck. “They’re both kind of thrivin’ at the moment. Makes me real happy to see.”
“And what about everyone’s favorite pest?” Randy asks with a smirk.
“Ah, Hudson’s givin’ the rest of us a reason to damn near pull our hair out, as per usual. I don’t know how Mom isn’t concerned about him and his life choices.”
Randy’s amused expression raises my brows. “What’s that look for?”
“I just think it’s funny, you and Rhett on your high horses actin’ like you ain’t ever played up like young Hud. I remember when y’all were at the Sheriff’s station after takin’ things one step too far with Myrtle’s cows. Had your tails between your legs when I bailed you out.”
Gracie, who’s spent a lot of the evening sitting quietly and just watching the conversation with a smile, chimes in. “Oh my god,” she gapes at me, “you were involved with that, too? Dad only ever mentioned Rhett and Sonny.”
Randy turns to her with a sympathetic look, causing her to wince.
My brows creep up my forehead as I try to figure out what I’ve missed here.
Noticing my confused expression, Gracie grimaces and shrugs slightly.
“Uh, I might’ve asked Dad not to tell me anything about you after I decided you weren’t coming to Chicago.
Well,” she awkwardly scratches at her neck, “sort of demanded, actually.”
A sharp laugh forces its way out of me.
Gracie’s forehead creases in response so I rush to explain my outburst. “I ain’t laughing at you, sweetheart.
” The nickname slipped out so easily. It’s not until I realize both Gracie and Randy are staring at me with varying degrees of amusement—Randy far more amused than his daughter, who almost looks a little shell-shocked that I’d call her that in front of her dad.
“I’m laughing at myself, at the stark contrast between how we reacted. ”
Now I’ve really confused her, if the way she tilts her head and scrunches her nose is anything to go by. I look to Randy for backup, despite knowing who’s side he’ll be on. His answering smug smile tells me everything I need to know.
“And how did you react, Tuck?” Randy asks with mock curiosity, seeming pretty damn pleased with himself at this turn of events. I narrow my eyes at him, making a mental note to get him back for this.
“I, uh…” I begin, glancing at Gracie before settling on staring down at the table instead, not really sure how to explain this without sounding like a complete loser. “I might’ve checked in with your dad every now and then for updates on you.”
A bark of laughter comes from beside me. I turn to find Randy almost doubled over, shaking, with his lips pulled back and teeth on display as he continues to laugh silently.
“Alright, you two, out with it. What am I missing?”
Recovering from his fit of laughter, Randy glances at me expectantly. When I say nothing, he turns to Gracie. “Well, every now and then isn’t quite accurate. He’s spent the past twelve years calling me weekly.”
Truth be told, I expected Randy to be more meddlesome this evening. But instead, he’s had far too much enjoyment in tormenting me. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a small part of me that enjoyed it though, the sort of father-son dynamic I’d mostly missed out on.
“Weekly?” Her eyes dart between me and her dad so fast I worry they might pop out of her head and roll away.
“You’ve called my dad, once a week for twelve years, f-for updates on me?
” Her voice softens at the end, almost trailing off.
It’s so hard to read her expression right now with the way her mouth is slightly agape, and her eyebrows encroach on her hairline.
I don’t trust myself to speak clearly, so I just nod.
God, I’d give anything for an interruption right about now.