AMBER
Ithought I’d left Bizarro World when I left Tucker’s place the morning after his housewarming party and promised myself that was the last time.
So why does it feel like my world has been tilted on its axis?
If someone told me the sky was green, I might just believe them, because apparently, in this new reality I live in, nothing is impossible.
I thought hell would freeze over before Tucker Braddock chased after a woman -- especially one who he’s already slept with twice -- but the dozen red roses on my counter say differently.
Elsa stands on her hind legs, sniffing the air, as I twirl the card that came with the roses around in my fingers.
I’ve already read the message three times, but I’m still having trouble believing the words are real:
Amber,
I had a great time with you and would love to do it again. How about dinner this weekend? My treat.
Tucker XXX
Yup. Bizarro World. I expect that any minute now Chris Rock will be announcing his intentions to run for President or something.
I place the card down on the counter and sigh.
Elsa paws at my legs, and whines for me to pick her up. I bend down and take the chow-chow puppy into my arms, scratching her favorite spot behind her ears.
“What should I do, girl?”
Elsa yips and licks my face.
Ah, to live the simple life of a dog.
If Tucker had sent me roses and an invitation to dinner after the first time we slept together, I would have assumed he wanted something from me.
Hell, even after I contacted him for help sorting out the Caitlyn and Joshua situation, I would have probably thought he was only messing around if he’d asked me out.
But then the party happened, and Tucker seemingly broke his number one rule by sleeping with me for a second time.
What did that mean?
That he was drunk, and probably high, and I was there and an easy target? Maybe, but it’s not like I threw myself at him that night, and I certainly haven’t been chasing him since.
He’s the one who sent me roses for god’s sake!
Normally, in a situation like this, I’d turn to Caitlyn for advice, but given she and Josh are together, talking to her about Tucker could be awkward. I don’t want to force Caitlyn to choose a side between her partner’s family and me. No, it’s best I say nothing.
My other choice is telling Tina, but I’m not sure she’s the confident type. I only ever really see her at parties or clubs.
Nope. This is one I’ve gotta figure out on my own. And the best way I know how to do that is by weighing the pros and cons.
Pro: Tucker is amazing in bed.
Con: He doesn’t do relationships.
Does he?
That’s what he’s always said, but sleeping with someone twice, and then sending them roses and inviting them out for dinner doesn’t sound like the actions of a man who is scared of commitment.
If anything, it sounds like the actions of a man trying to woo someone.
Is Tucker Braddock trying to woo me?
The thought is so absurd I actually laugh out loud.
I glance around my kitchen, almost as though I’m expecting Chance the Rapper to jump out and yell “Punk’d!”
When no one appears to tell me that this is all an elaborate joke, reality hits me. Shit. Tucker Braddock invited me out to dinner. He might actually be into me?
The thought that Tucker might actually want something more than a quick fling fills my body with fire.
It was hard enough to walk away the morning after our second night together, and I only did so because I was convinced staying would end in heartbreak.
But what if it doesn’t? What if Tucker really does want something more?
My head spins. There’s only one person I’ve ever wanted as much as I want Tucker.
Cody Reed. My high school love.
Cody and I had the perfect relationship. He was the football team’s star-quarterback, and I was a cheerleader. We were crowned prom king and queen. In our yearbook, we were voted “Most likely to live happily ever after.”
He was my everything. I thought we’d get married, have children and grow old together.
When we graduated, Cody dropped the bombshell that marriage and kids wasn’t something he wanted.
He didn’t want to be tied down. He wanted to be free to pursue his football career and enjoy his young-adult life.
He said I was welcome to come along with him for the ride, but that he couldn’t make any promises.
“I can’t give you forever, babe. Only for now. Is that enough?”
It was not enough. I tried so hard to make it enough. I push my dreams aside to chase after Cody, hoping he’d change his mind and admit he was wrong. He did want a future with marriage and children after all. But that moment never came.
Walking away from Cody was the hardest thing I ever did, but I knew for my sanity I had to. And from that moment onwards, I vowed to never waste my time on a guy that couldn’t give me what I want: a long-term commitment.
Tucker was the exception to the rule. A one-off (okay, two-off) lapse in judgment, but even when I slept with him, I knew what to expect.
A dozen red roses and an invitation to dinner wasn’t it.
But what did Tucker’s gesture actually mean?
If it meant, ‘You’re hot and I’d like to fuck you again’, then thanks, but no thanks.
No amount of great sex could make me stay in a ‘relationship’ with no future.
But what if it meant, ‘You’re hot, I’d like to fuck you again, and I want to get to know you better. ’
Coming from Tucker, I wouldn’t have thought that was impossible, except for a few obvious points:
1) We slept together on two separate occasions.
2) He sent me roses.
3) On the night of the party, it wasn’t all flirting, sweet-talk and sexy times.
Tucker actually took time asking about my life, how work was going, and how Elsa was settling in.
He told me about his work, and the upcoming surfing contest. At the time, I assumed he was making polite small talk because of my connection to Caitlyn, but what if it was something more?
What if he was actually trying to get to know me?
There’s only one way to find out. A voice in the back of my head says. Accept his invitation.
We could have dinner, and then hopefully I’d know if this was just a booty-call or something more.
What was there to lose?
My sanity? My heart?
But what could you gain? That annoying voice in the back of my mind asks. If Tucker really was interested in getting to know me more, and seeing where this went, well, it could be amazing.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I send him a quick message: “Dinner sounds great. I’m free this weekend. XX”
I’m shocked when Tucker’s reply comes almost straight away, as though he was waiting for me. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up at seven. XX”.
My heart flips over in my chest, and then I realize… on shit. I have a date to prepare for.
-----
It’s six-forty-five on Saturday evening, and I’m sitting in my apartment wearing a shimmery blue evening dress, hoping I’m not about to make a fool of myself.
I take a deep breath.
Tucker is going to show, I tell myself.
Just as I mentally utter the words of reassurance, the doorbell rings, and I almost jump out of my skin. From her crate, Elsa barks.
“Shush, it’s okay,” I say to the dog, before I grab my purse and answer the door.
And ho-ly shit!
There’s Tucker Braddock, looking hotter than ever.
I’ve seen him naked. I’ve seen him in casual clothes.
I’ve even seen him in his wetsuit, surfing.
But nothing compares to the visage of him in a form-fitting black suit, with a black shirt.
His usually shaggy hair is pulled back smoothly, and his facial hair looks as though it’s been freshly trimmed and styled.
Perfection.
He offers me a smile that makes my knees weak.
“Hey,” I manage to squeak out.
“Hey yourself,” Tucker replies, a slight smirk on his lips.
I quickly pull myself together and grab my wrap for my shoulders. “So, where are we headed?”
“I thought I’d take you somewhere special,” Tucker says, entwining his fingers with mine, as he leads me down the driveway to where a car awaits.
“What happened to the bike?” I blurt out.
Tucker chuckles. “I didn’t feel like riding tonight, so I hired a driver.”
As if on cue, an older man in a chauffeur uniform gets out of the car, and opens the door for us.
Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Tucker is, in fact, a billionaire.
I don’t know his exact situation, but I know his parents were loaded before they passed away, and that his brothers have only added to the Braddock wealth since taking over the family business.
I assume Tucker has billions tucked away in a trust fund somewhere.
To some women that might be a little daunting, but not me. I’m a self-made woman. Sure, I haven’t got billions in the bank, but all the money I do have, I made myself through hard work. I’ve never relied on anyone for anything.
That’s a mantra I forced myself to accept after Cody and I broke up. The only person you can really depend on is yourself.
But I won’t think of my ex now. Especially not when I have this Adonis sitting next to me.
“So, where are we headed?” I ask again, curious as to what Tucker has planned.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a proper date, especially one that involves a chauffeur-driven car and lavish outfits.
“I’ve made reservations at La Papillon in Sagaponack,” Tucker replies smoothly.
My eyes almost bug out of my head.
La Papillon is a multi-award winning, celebrity favorite French restaurant that has a three-month waiting list. To get reservations on short notice, Tucker must have paid a hell of a lot.
It’s kind of flattering. And maybe a little unnerving?
Fifteen minutes later, when the car pulls to a halt, I’m faced with a building that looks more like a mansion than a restaurant.
The driver gets out and opens the door for Tucker, who in turn opens the door for me, and offers me his hand.
Hands clasped, we walk down the long driveway to the main entrance, where a man in a suit awaits us.
“Can I take your names, please?”