The Last Virgin in Texas Page 7
“I know.” I silently curse myself for not wearing my twenty-dollar lip gloss to work this morning.
He smirks and holds his arms out.
Does he honestly think we’re just gonna hug it out?
“No way. You suck.” I shake my head, denying every urge in my body to go over there and sink into his big, strong arms.
“I don’t.”
“You do. You skipped town.” I emphasize my point with a finger jabbed in the air in his direction.
“I was coming back.”
“Shit!” I scoff, rolling my eyes so hard I’m afraid I might hurt myself. “Sure you were.”
“Look, I’m not here to argue with you. I just wanted…”
“What? What did you want, Tucker? What did you think was gonna happen, you showin’ back up now?”
He drags his palm down his face. “Fuck, I don’t know. I just…I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. Wanted to see how you were for myself.”
I fold my arms and set my jaw. “I’m great. I’m fuckin’ phenomenal, as a matter of fact. It’s like you never even existed.”
He winces. “Wow.” He looks down, tracing his thumb down the edge of the prep table. “Well, alright then. I guess I should probably go.”
“I guess you probably should.”
My chest feels tight and my head pounds. I don’t say anything. I just shrug. I’m holding so much in, I know if I open my mouth, I probably won’t be able to control what comes out and the last thing I intend to do is cry in front of the man who stole my heart, then broke it.
Just as he takes a step back, Maisie comes into the prep room. “Hey Gretch, we…” She looks up and stops dead in her tracks when she spots him. “Oh, holy shit! Tucker…hi.”
“Maisie.” He nods, then looks back to me. “Good seeing you, Gretchen. I’m glad you’re doing well. I…I guess I’ll see you around sometime.”
With that he turns and walks out the back door.
Just like he did five years ago.
I suspect, though, I won’t be lucky enough not to see him for another five years.
Maisie walks over and grabs my shoulders. “Girl! Oh, my God. Are you okay?”
I nod, my eyes fixed on hers.
“Are you…sure?”
I just keep nodding, almost violently. I nod as the tears roll down my cheeks. I nod as my lips start to swell and quiver.
“Oh, honey.” Maisie bends forward a little to meet my eye level.
I suck in a deep breath. “I’m fine. I am.”
I’m not fine. I’m sobbing. I’m big, ugly, boo-hoo crying with snot and everything.
“Just…” She shakes her head and pulls me into a hug.
“Ya’ll? I’m outta coffee up here!” I hear Dillon yell from the front.
“Get it your damn self!” Maisie yells back. “Dodger! Get your ass out front. We got a situation back here!”
“On it!” He calls back and we hear the kitchen doors thwap back and forth as he walks through them and heads out front.
“Tell me everything, hon.” Maisie runs a clean dishtowel under cold water from the tap and presses it to my heated cheeks.
I explain how Tucker came waltzing in here like he hadn’t been gone without so much as a word for the past five years.
“Mm-hm, I see.” Maisie leans against the prep table and crosses her arms over her chest, tapping her index finger to her chin. “So, when are you gonna see him again?”
I have to remember to start doing random drug tests on my employees.
“Have you lost your mind? What on earth did I say that made you think I’d ever want to see that asshole again?”
“Oh, it’s not what you said. It’s that look in your eye. You’re mad, I totally get how mad you are, but when you say his name, your eyes kinda,” she put her hands up, her fingers splayed, and wiggles them. “Sparkle.”
“I have no idea why I try to talk to you.” I shut my eyes and shake my head, half-hoping this whole thing is some sort of nightmare instead of my real life.
“Look, Gretch, you never got over him. I know that, and you know that. The question is, what’s the best way to get him out of your system? I think the answer is…you’ve gotta get under him to get over him.” She arches an eyebrow and gives me a dirty smirk.
“So…let me get this straight. I just saw the guy who broke my heart—crushed my whole world, and you think that the right way to get over him is to date him?”
“Oh, no, no, no, honey. Not date. Do. You need to finish what you started back then.”
I wish it were that easy. I wish I could just fuck him and get him out of my system forever. The trouble is, when it comes to Tucker Kane, nothing is simple.
He had been patient with me back then, knowing I had never had sex before. He was so attentive, so sweet. He was the best boyfriend a girl could ever ask for. That’s why I was so shocked, so utterly devastated when he left without warning.
Seeing him brought back all those old feelings, and unfortunately for me, all that Tucker charm is wrapped up in a hotter-than-ever package.
To top it all off, I didn’t just run into him on the street. He came here. To see me.
My squishy heart wants to believe that means something. It swells and thumps at the thought of him, knocking away bricks in the wall I’ve built around it.
I have to avoid him long enough to rebuild my defenses. If I don’t, I’ll never be able to resist him.
Thirteen
That did not go as well as I had planned. I expected…well, I’m not sure what I expected. Not a coffee cup to the head, though.
I head back to my parents’ place, hop into the Gator and drive out to the pond on the far side of the property. I need to re-group and it seems like a good place to do some thinking about what my next move should be.
As I park the Gator, my phone rings and I look down to see Jared’s name.
“What are you up to, dickhead?”
“Six one on a good day,” I reply. “When do you get here?”
“Miss me already, huh? I’ll be out there by Friday, probably. When does the crew get in?”
“A week from today.” I pace back and forth in the tall grass. “Not gonna lie. I’m not looking forward to it.”
“It’ll be over soon enough. How’s everybody?”
“Good.” I pause for a minute, then decide to tell him. “Saw Gretchen.”
“No shit? How’d that go?” He sounds skeptical.
“She threw a coffee cup at me.” I chuckle. “Guess she’s still pissed.”
“No shit.” He laughs. “Sorry that didn’t work out, man. I know how much it’s bugged you, the way things ended.”
“Yeah. Lately, especially.” I blow out a breath and tip my head back, gazing up at the darkening blue of the Texas sky. “It was just shock, though. Surprise from seeing me after all this time. Next time will be better.”
“Next time? Wait, so she threw a cup at you, and you think that seeing her again is a good idea? Are you sure that cup didn’t hit you? Give you a concussion?” His amused laugh is at my expense, but I get how crazy it must sound that I haven’t given up on her.
“I’m sure. I’ve just gotta put it behind me, and to do that, I need to see her again. Besides,” I think about the look on her face when I told her she looked good. “I’m pretty sure there was something there, some part of her that didn’t hate seeing me.”
I hear a voice in the background on his end of the call. “Gotta go, man. I’ll see you in a few days. In the meantime, watch yourself. Maybe get a helmet if you’re planning on seeing Gretchen again.”
We hang up and I walk out onto the little fishing dock and sit, looking out over the little fishing pond I loved so much as a kid.
Gretchen looked so damn pretty today.
She was angry, obviously. When she looked at me, though, there was something else. I have to find out what…that, and what part of what happened all those years ago that made her hate me so much.
In the morning, I go for a run, get showered and get ready to head back into town. The smell of coffee wafts through the house, beckoning me to the kitchen.
“How’s the prettiest girl in Shiner this mornin’?” I kiss Mama’s cheek as she busies herself at the sink.
“Don’t know. Haven’t talked to her this mornin’.” Mama laughs. “Glad to see your accent’s comin’ back a little.”
I laugh. “Is it?” When you spend your time trying to sound like someone else most of the time, eventually your real voice disappears. When I’m home, though, it starts to creep back in.
“It is, a little.” She leans back against the counter, wrapping both hands around her mug and takes a sip of coffee. “So, how’d it go?”
I look up from my phone, cocking my head to the side in question.
“You saw her, didn’t you?”
“How do you do that? You always know what I’m doing even if I don’t tell you.”
“Mother’s intuition. It annoys your father to no end.” She chuckles. “So what happened?”
“She threw a coffee cup at my head.”
She laughs so hard she has to put her coffee down to keep from spilling it.
“Thanks. Way to show your support, Mama.” I roll my eyes. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”
“I’m sorry, son.” She swipes the back of a finger under her eye and puts her hand on my arm. “It’s just that I can picture it. She’s a feisty one, that Gretchen.”
“You can say that again.” I smirk thinking how fucking sexy she looked when she clenched her fists and gritted her teeth.
“You know I’m on your side, always. And she didn’t hit you after all, did she?” She runs a hand through the front of my hair, inspecting my head for damage. “Maybe it’s time you told me a little more about what happened.”
I relent, giving her the parent-friendly version of the series of events that crushed me all those years ago.
“I see.” She crosses her arms, bringing one thumb and forefinger up to her chin. “So Jared told you she didn’t want to see you, but you never called? Never tried to see her when you came home for a visit, hmm?”
“Didn’t see much point. I called her before we left town. Texted. Left messages. She never called me back.” I lean back against the cool stone edge of the countertop. “Lately, I don’t know. It feels like unfinished business.”
“Sounds like it is and maybe you’ll both be better off if you can talk things out. Maybe you should try again. To talk to her, I mean.”
“I thought so, too. That’s where I’m headed now. Maybe she’ll talk to me now the surprise of seeing me has worn off.”
“Sounds like a solid plan, dear.” She tiptoes up, pressing her fingers to my chest to steady herself, and deposits a kiss high on my cheek. “By the way, tonight you’re helping at the Scouts’ auction. I already put you down for food prep duty.”
“You did, huh? What if I had plans?”
“Break ‘em. You may be a fancy movie star out in Hollywood, but here you’re just my boy and you’ll pull your weight like everyone else.”
“Yes ma’am.” I give her a one-armed hug. “I’ll be there. See ya’ll later.”
This time when I arrive at the diner, I park right in front for Gretchen and the whole world to see.
I stop at the paper machine out front, dig two quarters from my pocket, and drop the coins into the slot. The door of the machine creaks as I pull it down to retrieve today’s paper. I never look up, but I don’t have to. I can feel the eyes on me as I tuck the paper under my arm and pull open the front door.
I choose a booth at the side of the diner, near the counter. I slide into the seat, dropping the newspaper onto the table as Maisie makes quick work of the distance between her and my chosen spot.
“Have you lost your damn mind? She’s gonna kill you. There're knives back there, ya know.” She gestures toward the kitchen. “What if she starts throwin’ those?” She has one hand on her hip which juts out to one side.
“Coffee, black, and a number two breakfast, thanks.” I smile up at her.
“Tucker! She’s gonna hurt you if she sees you.”
She hurt me already.
“I’m just here for the bacon and scrambled eggs with cheese.”
“Liar.”
“Actor. That makes me a professional liar. Get it right at least.” I smirk and she groans, rolling her eyes as she turns and stomps off to retrieve my coffee.
I open my paper and read about the upcoming fundraiser for the Scouts, of which Mama is co-chair, the little league team standings, and a few blurbs about the horrendous crime rate in the county seat.
Spoiler alert: there have been three burglaries, two assaults and five counts of vandalism this year alone. Officials are being quoted with their concerns about the crime wave. I shake my head, imagining their horror if they saw the crime rate for a week in Los Angeles.
The heavy white plate lands square in the middle of my open newspaper, making a thud as it rights itself when the bottom hits the table. Some of my scrambled eggs slosh over the edge and onto the paper. I look up to see a very agitated Gretchen looking down at me, her hands in fists on her hips.
“That’s some customer service you got there, Gretchen. I bet your Yelp rating is five stars.” I lock my eyes on hers and smile.
Even angry she’s sexy as hell. I’m half-tempted to stand up from this booth, wrap my arms around her and kiss her like I used to.
“Hollywood assholes get special treatment.” She quirks her lips to the side and crosses her arms. “Why the hell are you here?”
“Oh, I can understand where you’d be confused. See, this is a diner. You cook food, and people come here to eat it and trade you money for it. When that happens in the morning, it’s called breakfast.” I turn sideways in the booth, smiling up at her. Her brows dip into an even deeper V, her cheeks turning a dark, delicious shade of crimson.
“Damn you are a smartass!” She rolls her eyes. “I meant why are you here in my diner. I thought I was clear yesterday that I didn’t have anything to say to you.”
“I have things to say to you. Questions, too. Why don’t you go to dinner with me so we can talk?”
She takes a step backward, her eyes growing large as her hands drop to her sides. “Go to dinner? With you?”
“Let me clarify. Dinner is a meal people eat in the evenings. Sometimes people go to restaurants to have it, and they talk to each other in between bites of food.”
She wants to be mad, but I see a smile tug up at those sexy, full lips of hers. She looks fucking adorable trying to contain it. My brows lift, my lips curling up at the edge, and her demeanor shifts, ever so slightly.
Her shoulders drop and she steps forward, pressing her index finger to the edge of the table. I slide my hand forward and cover hers with my palm. “Say yes, Gretchen.”
She doesn’t move her hand, but when her gaze meets my eye, I see something I didn’t see before. Sadness.
“I can’t do that, Tucker. I’m too…I just can’t.” She pulls her hand away and crosses her arms again, looking down at the floor as she swivels the toe of her sneaker on the tile floor. I see she’s still wearing Chucks, and it makes my heart swell to see that there’s still something there of the girl I used to know.
“I see.” I turn back to my plate, pick up my fork, and take a bite of eggs. “Well, the eggs are just as good as I remember. I guess I’ll see you again in the morning.”
Her brows knit together as she cocks her head to the side.
“I’m going to come back every day until you say yes. We need to talk. Got things to clear up. I’ll just keep coming by every day until you give in. Lucky for me, you’ve got a damn fine cook.” I wink as I take another bite.
She shakes her head, looks up at the ceiling and throws her arms up in the air before turning to stomp back to the kitchen in a huff.
I grin as I tuck into my breakfast.
I’m getting to her.
Fourteen
“I mean, asshole, right?” I turn to Maisie as I pace back and forth in my living room.
“Well, I mean, yeah, running off to California without so much as a word was a super shitty thing to do, for sure. But…,” she holds up a palm, “And just hear me out, but maybe he’s tryin’ to make amends. Maybe he realizes what a mistake that was and wants to apologize or something, ya know?” She shrugs.
“Why is this empty? Did you drink some of it?” I tip the bottle upward and peer into the hole as if somehow more hard cider will come pouring out if I just look for it intently enough.
“No, hon, and we’re out, but I’ve got reinforcements on the way.”
I cock a brow up at her suspiciously.
“Dodger’s coming over with more alcohol and Chinese food, cause he’s awesome like that.”
Maisie was a couple of years behind him in school, and I remember her talking about how cute he was back when she was a freshman and I was still in junior high. He was a star running back and his talent for finding a hole in the line and evading defenders earned him the nickname The Artful Dodger. Dodger stuck, even after he blew his knee out his freshman year of college and had to give football up altogether.
“He’s a good guy that Dodger.”
“Yeah, he really is,” Maisie answers quickly.
“Unlike some guys from around here who are assholes.” I shake my head and slump back onto the sofa. “Why’d he have to come back here, huh? I mean, I was happy with my boring little ol’ life. I’d practically forgot all about him.”
“Sure you had.” Maisie chuckles. “Look, I’ll tell you this again when you’re more sober, but I think you ought to at least consider talkin’ to Tucker. At this point, you’ve already had to see him twice, and he’s made it pretty damn clear he ain’t givin’ up, so what harm could it really do?”