The Last Virgin in Texas Read online

  Mr. Chips jumps up from his bed, growling, and follows me to the front door.

  I open it to find six-foot-something of manly perfection standing on my front porch, a big bouquet in his hand. My heart pounds as my eyes trail up from perfectly snug jeans to the pale turquoise button-down shirt that makes his eyes look impossibly blue. He’s clean-shaven, his hair so neatly combed that I’m desperate to run my fingers through it and see just how messy I could make it.

  “Hello, Gretchen. You look absolutely beautiful.”

  Mr. Chips steps forward beside me, growls, then starts barking.

  I smirk.

  That’s right. Get him, Mr. Chips.

  Tucker looks down at the pup and drops his voice to a deeper-than-usual timbre. “Hey now. That’s no way to treat a guest. Stop that.”

  Much to my dismay, Mr. Chips whimpers in response, then sits, tail wagging, begging for approval.

  “Much better.” Tucker reaches down and scratches his head, eliciting an energetic tail wag. “That’s a good boy. Let’s be friends.”

  “To be fair, I told him he could chew your face off if he ever met you.”

  “That’s not very nice, Gretchen.”

  “It was a while ago.” I shrug. “Those for me?”

  “Well, yeah, but that’s before I knew you were training a vicious attack dog to take me out.” He smirks and hands me the flowers. “I hope I remembered right. You like tiger lilies, don’t you?”

  I take them and bring them up to my face, inhaling the sweet scent of the assortment. “I do.” I sigh. “They’re my favorite.”

  “So are you gonna let me in, or…”

  “Yeah, come on in.”

  As he steps inside, he leans down and glances a soft kiss on my cheek. It’s like he flipped his own personal on switch for my body because when his lips connect, every fiber is on high alert, waiting for more.

  “Can I wash my hands before dinner?”

  “Sure. The bathroom’s in there, same as always.” I nod toward the hallway. “I’ll put these in water and see you in the dining room.”

  I put the flowers in a vase and put them on the sideboard at the end of the dining room.

  “Ooh, pretty!” Maisie exclaims. She’s sitting across from me, beside Dodger on the side opposite the kitchen, leaving the only open chair next to me.

  “I didn’t even know you liked flowers.” Dodger looks at Maisie with the question.

  “Well, I do. There might be lots of things you don’t know about me.”

  “There’re not that many things.” He wriggles his brows and something happens that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. Maisie’s cheeks turn pink. Pink.

  Tucker walks in as I sit down. “Smells good, sweetheart…” He stops in his tracks when he sees Dodger and Maisie.

  Maisie puts her palm up, wriggling her fingers in the air. “Surprise!” She grins and takes a sip of her beer, which I insisted she put in a glass since this is a sit-down meal.

  “Hey, ya’ll. Good to see you both. I thought it was just gonna be Gretchen and me.” He momentarily narrows his eyes at me as he sits down.

  “We thought you two might want a couple of chaperones.” Maisie winks at me.

  Dodger makes small talk about football with Tucker while I dole out portions of each dish as they pass plates my way.

  “Damn, Gretchen, this is the best meatloaf I ever had.” Tucker barely gets the words out before digging in for another forkful. “You could win one of those cooking shows with this. I’m serious.”

  I snarl. “Not everybody wants to run off to Hollywood and be on the TV.”

  “I’m not gonna apologize for having a good career. Hollywood has been good to me.” He holds my gaze, then violently spears his mashed potatoes with his fork.

  “Yeah, well, havin’ a good career ain’t what you should be apologizin’ for.”

  “Well, we all got things to apologize for, don’t we?” He looks at Dodger. “Toss me a roll, man.”

  Dodger tosses a roll across to Tucker.

  “Could you not throw food at my dinner table? Have some damn manners.” I roll my eyes and Dodger and Maisie exchange a side-eyed glance.

  As soon as we finish the main course, Dodger picks up our plates and takes them to the sink, then comes back and pushes in his chair.

  “Come on, Maisie. If we leave now, we can still catch the new Avengers movie over in Victoria.”

  Maisie stands and I interject.

  “Wait, you’re leavin’?”

  “Goin’ to the movies sounds a lot more fun than sittin’ hear listenin’ to you two verbally hate-fuck each other all night.” Dodger says and puts his hand on Maisie’s shoulder as she gives me an apologetic shrug. “See ya around, Tucker. Good luck, man.”

  I stand to clear the dishes from the center of the table and turn to Tucker as I head into the kitchen. “Well, goodnight, then.”

  He picks up the empty mashed potatoes dish and follows me.

  “Let me help you clean up.”

  “Not necessary. You paid ten thousand dollars for dinner. The least I can do is the dishes. It’s worth it for the Scouts to get to go to camp next year, plus remodel their clubhouse.”

  I put the rubber stopper in the bottom of the sink and give the empty, stainless steel tub a generous squirt of dish soap. I lift the handle to the warm position, then edge the faucet over and the tub fills with suds.

  I edge my way past Tucker and head into the dining room to grab the last of the dishes, but he follows me. As I drop the empty bowl that once contained green beans into the frothing water, he slams down on the handle and puts his hand on my shoulder.

  “Come on, Gretchen. We got things to say. Let’s say ‘em.”

  I look up at him, and the emotion swirling in those dark blue eyes squeezes at my heart.

  “Fine.”

  I dry my hands and we walk into the living room. The TV is on, but muted, and Mr. Chips has his eyes fixed on it as though he’s watching it.

  Tucker sits beside me and turns, resting his arm on the back of the sofa. “I’m sorry, Gretchen. I’m sorry I didn’t come back in person…that I didn’t try harder all those years ago.”

  “So were you always planning on movin’ to L.A., or was that a last-minute thing?”

  “I had been planning it a few weeks. Thing is, when we went out that night…I was planning on asking you to come with us.” He drags his palm down his face then looks up at the ceiling. “Gretchen, what I told you that night…you didn’t say it back.”

  “I didn’t have time to think, Tucker. My Mama had literally just whipped your ass.” As the realization seeps in, my heart begins to ache. “So after what happened, you decided to just leave me behind after all?”

  “No, it wasn’t like that. We left two days later. I tried to call but your phone went right to voicemail.”

  Damn. Mama threw my phone out the window the night of the incident. In all the commotion, I had forgotten all about that.

  He winces at the memory of those days. “I was gonna come back. I got a job out there right away. I was putting money aside to make sure there’d be enough for us both to live on when I came back for you. Then, I heard you were dating Craig Geary, so…I figured you’d moved on, so what was the point?”

  “What? I could never jump into another relationship that fast. I was just…you leavin’ broke my heart, Tucker.” In the moment that follows, his words sink in. “Wait, for us? You really meant to come back for me?”

  He nods as he pulls me close and I lay my head on his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, Gretchen. I should’ve come back. I should’ve made you talk to me back then so we could straighten things out. I could’ve stood up to your Mama, or…I don’t know what. I should’ve tried harder.” His strong arms squeeze tighter. “Tell me you forgive me.”

  I press my eyes shut tight and nod. I don’t say anything for a moment, for fear this emotion that’s clawing at my throat will escape, then I take a dee
p breath and answer. “My Mama threw my phone out so I didn’t get your calls. Maybe I shoulda known better—shoulda snuck out and gone to your Mama’s to look for you or somethin’. I’m sorry, too, Tucker.”

  I look into his eyes for a long moment. They’re moist, full of emotion. He strokes my cheek with the backs of his fingers and opens his mouth, then closes it again, and just quietly nods.

  The volume on the next TV commercial blares, making us look up. “Coming up next, Julia goes undercover to catch a human trafficking ring. Can Father Devine save her before it’s too late? Sins of the Father, only on NBS.”

  “Your show’s on.” I grab the remote and turn it up when the theme music starts.

  “I’ve never seen it.”

  “What? That’s crazy!” I scoff. “It’s the most popular show in America.”

  “I hate seeing myself on film. I only watch the rushes when they make me.” He actually looks a little uncomfortable with the show playing on television right in front of us.

  I look up at the screen to see television Tucker, playing Father Devine, pulling Marissa in for a kiss. I know it’s irrational, but it makes me insanely jealous.

  “Huh. Check it out. It’s a scene with not your girlfriend.” I roll my eyes.

  He cocks his head to the side and reaches up, tipping my chin so I have to meet his eye. “She’s not, Gretchen,” he says, his expression stern. “It’s complicated, but that stuff’s just for publicity.” He finally turns his attention to the screen. “See how fake that kiss is?”

  “It doesn’t look fake.”

  “Here, stand up.” He pulls me to my feet. “I’ll show you.”

  He faces me, placing one of my hands at his waist, the other outside his shoulder. “See, now you can’t move your hands too much, or you’ll obstruct the camera angles.”

  Next, he pushes my hair back behind my shoulders and slides his hands around my waist. “Now, if we were filming, they’d have you stand on a box because you’re so little.” He winks, and weak-willed woman that I am, I can’t help but swoon a little.

  “Now, if we were in Hollywood, I’d say something like, I’ve been waiting for years to kiss you like this. Then,” he dips his head, his lips closing in on mine, “Just as I got close like this, someone would yell, cut! Then one person would squirt breath freshener in both our mouths, and someone else would touch up our hair and makeup.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Then when we kiss, we’d have our mouths pressed together, but wouldn’t be actually kissing. No tongues, definitely no exchange of saliva. Especially if it’s an actor you don’t know or don’t like. It goes like this.”

  He presses his open mouth to mine, and it’s so awkward and weird I can’t help but laugh. My laughing makes him laugh, too.

  “So, see? Everything you see on screen, it’s all just the magic of television.” He pulls me closer. “I have to say, though, this right here? Holding you again after all this time? This feels like real magic. I’m glad I came back early to see you.”

  “You came to see me? Not your parents?”

  “I see them pretty often. When I heard the production company was going to come in at the end of the week, I made sure I was here in plenty of time to talk to you. I hoped to clear the air between us.” He dips his head as he wraps his arms tighter around me. “I’m glad I did.”

  “Me, too, Tucker.”

  When he moves forward, capturing my lips with his, I don’t hesitate. I kiss him back with everything I am.

  Maybe he won’t stick around. I know I could—probably will—get hurt again. More than that, though, I know that this, whatever this is between us, is exactly what I need, even if it’s for now, not forever.

  Eighteen

  Gretchen is a drug, and I’m hooked. Kissing her is one of those magical things in life that makes me feel invincible and weak at the same time. She feels so damn perfect in my arms. Being with her is like going back in time to five years ago…before Hollywood and all the crazy bullshit of the business. She’s soft, sweet, and most of all, she’s real.

  As I deepen the kiss, I lift her and bring her back to the sofa. I lay her back and lean over her to kiss her again, deeper, with more passion than I have before. When I shift my weight, her hips rise, and she lets out a sweet little moan that goes straight to my dick.

  “Damn, you’re beautiful, Gretchen. So fucking perfect.”

  I slide my hand down her body, cupping her breast through the thin fabric of her dress, and her body responds as I trace the peak with my thumb. My lips move down her throat as my fingers tug at the neck of her dress, pulling it down along with the cup of her bra to expose the pert little bud my lips crave.

  I catch her eye as my lips make their way down her flesh, and when I capture her nipple between my lips, lathing circles with my tongue before I close my mouth and suck, she rakes her fingers through my hair. I’m thankful she’s so responsive, so eager. If this is going to stop, she’ll have to stop it because this girl has obliterated my willpower.

  I slide my hand down her body, and she stretches, squirming with anticipation. When I grip her thigh with my palm, she pulls my face up to meet hers and nips at my lips. My palm finds her warm center, and I slide my finger to the side and dip beneath the soaked fabric. My fingers glide between her lips and she’s so wet my dick grows hard as steel, aching to be inside of her.

  When I drag my fingers up to circle her clit, so swollen and sensitive she lets out a deep, satisfied moan.

  “Tucker, that feels so fuckin’ good.”

  Her eyes are hooded and hazy, drunk with lust. Her lips are full and pink from our kissing. She’s so perfect, an angel, and I want to go back to when she was mine—to make her mine again.

  I devour her mouth and work her clit with my fingers until she’s on the edge, crazed with want. I gently tug at her lower lip with my teeth as my fingers slide lower, dipping inside her.

  “God, I’ve missed you. How about you, baby? Did you miss this?”

  She nods. “Yes. Hell, yes.” Her words are breathless and desperate.

  “You gonna come for me, Gretchen?”

  “I am.” She digs her fingers into my shoulders as my thumb circles her clit.

  I slide my fingers deeper and she’s so fucking tight. She’s tighter than any girl I’ve been with since…

  No fucking way.

  “Gretchen?”

  “Yeah?” Her response is a moan more than a word.

  “Baby are you…?”

  Her eyes open, and her brows dip with worry as she nods, slowly, up and down.

  Fuck. Well, there goes my idea about fucking her senseless right here on this sofa.

  I ease up, slowing my pace, thinking I need to be careful with her.

  “Why are you stopping?” Her face is painted with worry.

  “I’m just…I thought I should take it slower, is all.”

  Her eyes moisten, and she pushes against my shoulders. “Stop. Just…stop.”

  I do as she asks and when she scoots back up on one end of the sofa, pulling her knees to her chest, she buries her face as she wraps herself up in a ball.

  “Gretchen, sweetheart what’s wrong?”

  I lift her chin and her eyes are red, tears spilling down her cheeks.

  And it wrecks me.

  My heart feels tight in my chest and all I want is to hold her and fix it, whatever I did wrong, to make it all better.

  “Why are you crying, baby?” I push a loose strand of pale blonde hair away from her face.

  “Because of the way you’re lookin’ at me right now, that’s why. Because that’s what always happens.” She shakes her head and buries her face back against her arms.

  “I’m sorry, I was just…I just didn’t expect that, that’s all.”

  “So you find out, and you treat me like a leper, just like everyone else does. Gretchen the freak. The last of the virgins.”

  “I thought…Craig was going around saying you two had done
it after I left town.”

  “Well, obviously he was lyin’. I just…I had waited so long, anyway. I didn’t want it to be just some random guy. I haven’t really been that serious about anybody.” She looks up at me, those big green eyes of hers rimmed with red and it kills me. “Not since you.”

  And if I didn’t feel like enough of an ass before, I do now.

  “So you can go on, just like everybody else. Run away from the freak girl.” She buries her head back in her arms.

  I reach up and pull her arms away from her knees, then tug on her foot until she’s got one knee up, the other leg dangling off the side of the sofa. I lean in closer and cup her face with my palm.

  “Are you kidding? You’re not a freak. I like that you waited for the right person.” I move closer and kiss her cheek. “I like even more that you thought, at one time anyway, that the right person was me.”

  Then it hits me. She hasn’t been with anyone else. Maybe I am still the right person for her. Maybe this is just how things were supposed to be all along.

  The only problem is how hot and cold she’s been since I’ve been here. I definitely want to be her first. I don’t want her to turn around and shut me out, though. When we fuck, I want it to be the beginning of something, not the end.

  She presses her palm to my hand where it rests on her cheek and leans forward. “So, what if I think you still might be?”

  It’s official. I’m the luckiest bastard on the planet.

  “There’s nothing I’d like more. I think we should spend a little time together, though, getting reacquainted. Do things right. Whaddya say to that?”

  Her shoulders drop. Her whole body relaxes. “I like that idea.”

  She smiles the sweetest smile, and it makes me want to wrap her up and protect her; to keep her with me always.

  We spend hours talking about my parents and her family. She asks me about my life in Hollywood, and I ask her about her life in Shiner. We joke, laugh, and drink beer after beer just like we did when we were kids.

  When it’s way past late and well into early, she can barely keep her eyes open, so I stand to leave.