31. Tucker
Tucker
One Week before Rodeo
“Is it time for lunch yet? I’m fucking starved.” In classic man-child fashion, my youngest brother kicks a stone as we walk down Main Street.
“Forget to pack your snacks this morning?”
“No, dickhead, I’m just hungry.” He draws out the last word like a whiny toddler.
I fight the urge to laugh, and seriously contemplate how this guy has been a fully-fledged adult for five years, despite apparently not being able to feed himself adequately.
There’s no way he’s still growing at twenty-three.
“Don’t worry, little guy, we’ll get you a juice box soon. You just have to make it through one more stop.”
Hudson lets out a yelp when I throw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in and roughing up his hair with my fist in the middle of the Main Street.
“Get off me you thug,” he whines, attempting to escape my grasp. “People are staring.”
I let him go with a chuckle and keep walking. “Yeah, staring at the overgrown baby. I need to duck into Clark’s to collect some stuff—you comin’?”
“Yeah alright, but make it snappy. Boy’s gotta eat.”
“You’re asking to be punched when you say things like that, just so y’know.”
Arriving at Clark Apparel a few minutes later, Hudson holds open the door for me, ushering me in. “After you, old boy.”
I stroll in and head directly to the empty counter. “Lor, you there?” I call out loud enough that she should hear me from out the back.
Except the person who emerges from out back isn’t Lorelai at all.
Wide-eyed and arms full of stock, I watch the split-second where Gracie tries to flee, turning sharply back toward the way she came.
But she knows I’ve seen her, and she’s never been one to back down. Don’t back down on me now, please.
“Tucker.” Gracie’s voice is soft and uncertain.
The hesitation in her eyes causes an ache in the pit of my stomach.
This isn’t us, we’ve never not known how to act around each other.
Her gaze flickers around the shop, avoiding looking directly at me.
I wish I could do the same, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her if I tried.
She always has my attention. Like a moth to a beautiful, blue-eyed flame, she’s always been at the center of my existence.
I haven’t seen her since she walked out on me last week, our disagreement lingering as unfinished business. The last time we didn’t talk to one another for a week, the end result was… well, fuck, I don’t want to think about that right now.
“Uh—” I stop, unsure what the hell to say right now.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you.” On a list of all the things I could’ve said, that was pretty fucking low down—somewhere around talking about the weather and asking how’s your dad and them.
Feeling awkward as hell, I scratch the back of my neck to keep my hands from fidgeting.
Gracie mirrors my discomfort, playing with the ends of her sleeves and avoiding my eye. “I’m just filling in for the day.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
A throat clears roughly a few feet away, and we both turn to see Hudson staring at us, brows raised and mouth thin. He wags a finger between Gracie and me. “What in the hell is goin’ on between the two of you?”
“Nothing,” we respond in unison.
“Well, that ain’t suspicious at all.” Hudson takes the words right from my mouth.
I glance at Gracie, finding her already looking at me.
Doing what he does best, Hudson fills the silence. “Are either of you going to say anything, or am I going to have this conversation for you?”
“Hudson.” His name comes out low, in warning.
“What?” he asks almost nonchalantly. “You can talk to me, but not her?” Hudson laughs humorlessly, causing Gracie to wince.
“Alright, that’ll do.” I take a step toward him and he raises his arms defensively. If I had to name a fault of Hudson’s, it would be his tendency to take things just that hint too far. “We’re leaving.”
Before Hudson can open his big mouth again, I wrap my arm around his shoulder and direct him toward the door with a little more force than necessary. I wait until we’re outside, the door firmly shut behind us, before speaking freely.
“Hudson, what the fuck was that?”
“Exactly what I said it was. You two were acting suspicious as fuck, and I don’t mean that in a good way.”
“We’re fine,” I clip, but I barely believe myself, so why should Hudson?
“You’re about as fine as Ross if you ask me.”
“Good thing nobody asked you.” I huff. “What difference does it make to you, anyway?”
“Just last week, you two couldn’t be any more in love, and now you can’t exchange more than two sentences?”
“What are you on about?”
“Oh c’mon, Tucker. I might not be smart, but I ain’t dumb.”
It physically pains me to hold in a number of retorts to that statement. My baby brother, the wordsmith.
“Okay, so you aren’t dumb. What’s your point?”
“My point, jackass, is that I ain’t ever seen two people look at each other the way you and Grace look at each other.
Except maybe Mom and Pa, but I don’t remember all that much from back then.
I don’t know a lot, but I do know that whatever you and Grace have is rare.
You don’t just stumble upon something like that—twice—and let it slip through your fingers.
So whatever you did to fuck it up, fix it. ”
“Of all my siblings, you’re the last one I’d expect a lecture from.”
“Yeah well, don’t tell the others or I’ll deny it all. I don’t wanna make a habit of this shit, and I can’t lose my street cred around here. Dunno if you’ve noticed, but I’ve got a rep to uphold.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed. You’re the town’s unofficial rake.”
“And just what the hell does a garden tool have to do with this?”
I clap Hudson on the back, coughing to cover my laugh. “It’s a damn good thing you’re pretty. I’ll be right back.”
“Do you really need me to wait around to be sure you two kiss and make up?”
“I’d actually really rather if you didn’t.”
“Great, we’re on the same page.” He claps a hand on my shoulder. “I’m gonna head to Delaney’s, I’ll see you later.”
“How’re you getting home?”
“I’ve got friends everywhere.” With a wink, he’s gone.
I suck in a deep, steadying breath, staring at the door like it might break free from its hinges and attack me. I don’t make a habit of agreeing with Hudson, but he’s not wrong—I need to patch up whatever crack has appeared between Gracie and me.
Gracie looks up from where she stands behind the till at the sound of boots on the hardwood floor.
I clear my throat nervously, sending up a silent prayer to anyone listening to please let me get my shit together.
I’m rubbing the back of my neck again, painfully aware it’s a telltale sign of nerves, but unable to stop.
The slightest breeze against my naval indicates the front of my shirt has come untucked.
At the same time, I watch as Gracie’s eyes track down my abdomen, laser-focused on the patch of exposed skin.
Heat blooms in my cheeks and the back of my neck, the temperature suddenly feeling fifteen degrees higher than it did three seconds ago.
I drop my hand limply to my side, and Gracie diverts her gaze faster than I knew was humanly possible.
I point a thumb dumbly over my shoulder. “I—I’m sorry about him. Sometimes there’s an unbridged gap between inside and outside thoughts.”
Gracie laughs politely, letting out a small sigh as it subsides.
“I can’t decide if I’m glad or concerned that he hasn’t grown out of that.
As much as it pains me to admit, he’s got a point, Tucker.
” She lets out a breath, raising her head to meet my gaze.
“I don’t remember a time where we didn’t know how to talk to each other, apart from the obvious. ”
“Don’t,” I say softly, taking a step toward the front of the counter.
I place my hands on the countertop, resting my weight in my palms and letting my eyes close as my head hangs between my shoulders.
“It hurts far too much to even think about comparing right now to back then. This isn’t history repeating, Gracie.
” I lift my head, meeting her gaze. “We aren’t those people anymore. ”
There’s a sadness in her eyes that wasn’t there before, and she seems smaller almost, as though it’s physically weighing her down.
“Doesn’t that ever scare you? That we aren’t those people.
” Sensing my confusion, she continues. “What if we don’t work like we did back then?
What if we’ve changed too much to have what we once had?
It terrifies me that we might not get that back.
” A hint of fear now swims with the sadness in her eyes as she speaks.
I hear it in the tiny waver in her voice.
“Gracie, I don’t want that back.” I wrap my hand around hers, squeezing.
“I loved what we had, don’t get me wrong, but it ended.
I don’t want that back, because I can’t fathom us ending again.
You’re my future, Gracie. We’ll build something different, something stronger.
Something that will last the test of time, because we will. ”
“I’m scared, Tucker.” The vulnerability in her voice makes me want to drop to my knees and just hold her tightly, for as long as I live. “I can’t lose you again.”
“You won’t, sweetheart. I’m yours, always have been. I think my heart is tethered to yours. It would find yours in every lifetime, on every plane of existence, through any adversity. This—you and me—we’re forever.”
“But what if we aren’t? We thought the same thing all those years ago, but we still drifted apart until we were nothing more than strangers.”
I feel every word she says deep within me. The pain I felt during those years was unimaginable, but it would’ve been worse for Gracie.
“Wait here,” I say with a squeeze of her hand. As I wander to the door, Gracie’s confusion is evident in her voice. “Tucker, what are you—”
She stops short when I flip over the sign hanging on the front door to Closed before walking back to her.
I grab her hand and continue walking into the office, not letting go even as I take a seat on the couch, tugging her down with me.
With one knee beneath me, I turn my body toward hers and take both her hands in mine.
I can’t bear to meet her gaze, instead staring at our intertwined fingers.
“I hurt you, Gracie. I let you down, so many times, and that’s something I’ll never forgive myself for. I know we were just kids, but you waited for me, and—”
“Tucker,” she says on an exhale, her tone soothing. “Look at me.”
When I don’t look up right away, she gently pulls one hand from my grasp and places her fingers beneath my chin, tilting my head up. Twelve years of emotions swirl in those deep blue irises, a sad smile tilting up the corner of her lips.
“This wasn’t your fault. We were both victims of circumstance, and it just happened to be at the most awful time. Yes, I waited for you, but in my waiting, I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been. You needed me, and I left you.”
“I told you to leave, remember? That wasn’t your fault.”
“And since when did I take instructions from you? I could’ve said no, could’ve stayed.”
My lips quiver with the faintest beginnings of a smile.
Gracie slides her hand down my face to run the pad of her thumb over the corner of my lip and across my scar.
“You could’ve, but I didn’t want you to.
I wasn’t going to be the thing that held you back, Gracie.
All I wanted was for you to be happy, but I still managed to fuck that up by not showing up. ”
There’s a dull ache in my chest and knots in my stomach. The heartache I’m feeling is reflected at me through the pain in her eyes as she speaks. “You didn’t fuck anything up, you hear me? Timing just wasn’t on our side back then.”
“Right person, wrong time, and all that?” I’ve heard that saying a hundred times, but I’ve never understood it properly until now.
She gives me a small smile. “Yeah, something like that. I’ve never been able to forgive myself for not being there for you though.”
Pulling her hand gently from my face, I wrap both hands around her upper arms, slowly rubbing them up and down.
She rests her hands on my forearms. “Just because you weren’t here in the flesh, doesn’t mean you weren’t with me in spirit.
You were in everything I did, everything I said and thought.
I’d had you so long that I didn’t know how to exist without you by my side. ”
Her eyes sparkle with unshed tears, so I continue, giving her reprieve. “I’ve never found it in me to forgive the way I didn’t show up, so I guess we’re equal. But I’d like to propose something—how ‘bout we both forgive ourselves and move forward without regrets?”
Gracie’s eyes fall shut as she nods, a tear spilling out across her bottom lashes. “I’d like that very much,” she whispers.
I pull her into a hug, inhaling the scent of her shampoo as I press my nose into the top of her head.
Her body shakes silently when I begin rubbing her back.
Tears of my own well up as I hold her to me.
There’s nothing that feels more like home than having her in my arms. This, right here, is it for me.