Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Kate
After spending the afternoon swimming, sunning, and relaxing, we’ve changed out of our suits and are enjoying the balmy evening air while munching on slices of the pizza Logan ordered for dinner. I’ve managed to pretend that little scene in the kitchen with Tucker earlier didn’t affect me. Or at least, I hope everyone thought the color in my cheeks was from the sun and not from the memory of his hands on my hips and his gaze on my lips.
Penny has been less than inconspicuous with her encouraging nods and eyebrow waggles, trying to get me to make my move on Tucker, and the tipsier she’s gotten, the more animated those attempts have become. There’s no way he hasn’t noticed. Logan, too, if his frown is any indication.
I’m giving Penny yet another warning look when Logan suddenly stands, holding out a hand to Penny and saying, “I should probably get you home.”
“Boo. Hiss,” she mumbles, and Logan just shakes his head and helps her to her feet.
Standing, I move over to give Penny a hug, whispering into her ear, “You’re in so much trouble. We’ll discuss your behavior tomorrow.”
“Don’t be mad, Kitty Kate. I just love you, and I want you to be happy,” she slurs in response.
“I love you, too,” I say, releasing her before giving Logan a hug.
I send an urgent, silent plea to the universe that Penny won’t say anything embarrassing to Tucker as they hug goodbye, and thankfully, the universe delivers. She keeps her loose, drunken lips sealed as they embrace. I watch as Logan and Tucker have some sort of silent conversation I can’t understand.
I fully expect Tucker to slip into the house right behind them, but he surprises me by starting to clear the table, instead. Ignoring the patter of my heart, I follow Logan and Penny to the front door, we repeat our goodbyes, and I close the door behind them. Pausing to take a deep breath, I head back toward the kitchen to find Tucker there, storing the leftover pizza in plastic containers he must’ve found in one of the cabinets.
Skidding to a halt, I watch his muscles flex as he moves. Thankful he never put his shirt back on after swimming, my eyes roam over his shoulders and chest before dipping to the muscles just above the waistband of his shorts. When I lift my gaze back to his face, I’m startled to find his blue eyes locked on me, a small smile curving his lips.
Shit, I’m busted. Again.
Pretending like that didn’t just happen, I move into the kitchen and silently help him pack away the last few slices. We don’t speak as he takes the containers and puts them away in the refrigerator, and I move to the sink to wash the grease and crumbs from my hands.
I feel his body heat behind me as I turn off the water, and I freeze as his hands find the countertop on either side of me, bracketing me in and trapping me there.
I barely breathe as he leans in, his breath tickling my ear as he whispers, “Kate. I’ve wanted to kiss you all week, but today has been the worst. I’ve been aching to taste your lips. To see if they’re as sweet as they look.”
And there I go down the rabbit hole to Wonderland, because this can’t be real life, can it? Then Tucker presses a kiss to my shoulder next to the strap of my sundress, sending goosebumps skittering down my arm. Taking a deep breath, I turn around to face him, still trapped by his arms, a little gasp slipping out of me when I realize how close his face is to mine.
“You have?” I ask, and he nods. “But last night…”
“Last night, I was trying to be smart and noble,” he says when my words trail off. “This thing between us can’t go anywhere, and it will end when I leave the island after the wedding. So, I’ve been trying to keep myself under control, but I can’t resist just…one…kiss.”
He moves in slowly as he says the last three words, giving me every opportunity to stop him. But I remain frozen until his lips brush against mine .
Now, I’ve been kissed before. Sloppy, unpracticed kisses that left my teenaged-self gagging when a tongue jabbed the back of my throat. Sweet, yet devoid-of-passion pecks from blind dates when I was in my early twenties. But nothing I’ve experienced before this moment has prepared me for the burst of need that explodes inside me at that first gentle pass of Tucker’s lips.
Lightheaded, I slowly respond, allowing his lips to lead in this slow, tender dance. Firm, yet somehow soft, his lips brush against mine again and again as his hands move to my waist, squeezing it like he’s afraid I might run.
Like hell, I will.
I’m not going anywhere because this is quite possibly the best, most exciting moment of my life.
Then his tongue swipes over my lower lip, and my mouth opens at the shock of it. Tucker tilts his head and pushes his tongue inside, and my heart races even faster than before. A quiet groan rumbles out of him when my tongue meets his, and I pray my inexperience isn’t blatantly obvious.
I’m spiraling, the heady feeling of being held and kissed by Tucker consuming me, completely. But then he backtracks, closing his mouth and pressing several more gentle kisses to my lips before releasing me and stepping back with a sigh.
“I should go,” he whispers, the words laced with disappointment.
All I can do is nod, and he smiles at my stupefied state before leaning back in to peck one last kiss to my lips.
“Goodnight, Kate. ”
“Goodnight,” I say, finally finding my voice.
Then he’s gone, and I’m pretty sure I lose consciousness for a few moments despite still being on my feet. One second, he was standing in front of me, and the next he’s gone, the house is still and quiet, and I’m completely alone. Like I’m missing a few moments of time.
Snapping out of the daze, I look around the kitchen. Everything is clean, as is the back patio, so I heave a sigh and turn off the lights. I might as well go to bed. I don’t know if I’ll sleep after replaying the last few minutes over and over again in my head, analyzing every second, and wondering if I did something wrong that made Tucker leave so suddenly, but I can at least try.
Heading to my room, I grab some clean underwear and pajamas before heading into the bathroom. I hop into the shower to wash away the chlorine, sunscreen, and sweat of the day, and when I’m clean, dry, and dressed, I walk over to the bed where I dropped my phone on my way through the room.
My heart skips a beat when I see a text from Tucker.
Tucker: Thanks for an amazing day. I particularly like how it ended.
A thrill shoots through me at those words. Maybe I didn’t do it wrong. Maybe Tucker just didn’t expect anything more than a kiss from me tonight. I tap a reply out, then frown at the words.
Me: You’re welcome, and thanks for coming.
Thanks for coming ? Yeah, no. That definitely didn’t happen. I quickly delete the message and type out a new one .
Me: It ended too soon.
I stare at those words for a long moment, my heart pounding with fear at how he might take them. Do I sound flirty? Or desperate?
“Screw it,” I whisper, then tap the icon to send the text before I chicken out.
I pull back the covers and climb into bed to stare at my phone without blinking as my anxiety strengthens. Seconds tick by, and I start to type out “just kidding,” or something equally lame, then my fingers freeze as a new text comes through from Tucker.
Tucker: Believe me, I could’ve spent the entire night kissing every inch of your body, but I didn’t want to push too hard.
Holy shit. The image those words conjure has me squirming. Oh, my God, are we sexting right now?
Hell, if I know. It’s not like I’ve ever sexted. Should I ask what he’s wearing?
“No, stupid,” I mutter.
Tucker: You still there?
“Shit,” I whisper, and quickly tap out a response.
Me: Yeah, I’m here.
Tucker: You okay?
Me: I’m fine.
Tucker: Just fine? Or maybe a little turned on by the idea of my mouth all over you?
Oh, shit. We are sexting, aren’t we?
Tucker: Kate?
Me: Sorry. I’ve just never texted like this before, and I don’t want to sound like an idiot.
Tucker: You never could. Just tell me what you’re thinking .
Me: I don’t know what I’m thinking.
Tucker: It’s okay. We’ll just say goodnight, then.
Me: Okay. Goodnight.
Tucker: Goodnight, Kate. I’ll see you tomorrow.
I type out the words “I can’t wait,” then quickly delete them, close the texting app, and drop my phone to the mattress beside me. Flipping over onto my belly, I groan into my pillow.
Once again, my inexperience has left me looking like an idiot. I can’t even fake confidence via text messages. I’m sure whatever interest he had in me, sexually speaking, is long gone after that awkward exchange.
How am I supposed to face Tucker again after this?