It’s after two in the morning.Why is he here?
He’s not looking into the pub; he’s focused on something up the street. Sammy and I turn our heads to look at each other, the difference is that she is smirking and waggling her eyebrows, and I’m so surprised that I don’t know what to say.
She clucks her tongue. “Told ya. An admirer.”
“What’shedoin’ here?” Trudy’s sharp, irritated voice snaps behind us, and I swing my head in her direction.
Sammy doesn’t turn to face her when she says, “Why do you think? He’s obviously here for Nora.”
Trudy roughly pushes between us on her way to the door. “You’re probably as easy as he thinks you are.”
Sammy crosses her arms over her chest and cocks her hip out. “Maybe you’ve forgot who in this room has already put out.”
My head swivels to Sammy, my eyes wide with shock, and jealousy blooms in my chest, spreading across my body like an ugly green cloud. Jealousy that has no business being there.
He and Trudy?
Gross.
Sammy warned you he’s always been a player.
I remind myself that Tucker Harlow is nothing to me, and this is the reminder I needed to hear before I walk out there. The last thing I need is to get wrapped up in games.
Trudy huffs before she mumbles, “Whatever.” Her boots clomp on the wood floor as she walks to the door. She obviously doesn’t like him… anymore, and I wonder what happened between them. And when?
Disappointment settles over me, and Sammy and I walk behind Trudy, who has her nose in the air, but also has a little extra swing in her hips under her tight denim, extra-short miniskirt as she pushes through the door. It’s completely irrational how much I hate her right now, and I hope she trips and falls as she walks out the door.
Sammy leans close and whispers in my ear. “Don’t worry, it was a week of dating yeeeeaaars ago, heck, it wasn’t even really dating, and she’s still pissed like they were serious or something.”
Flicking my eyes to the side, toward her, my eyebrows furrowed with a smirk, I say, “Really? Years ago, and she still acts like that?”
She rolls her eyes with a smirk and nods.
Tucker looks up when the door opens, and I don’t miss the scowl that passes over his face when Trudy walks by him to get to her car. When his head turns and his eyes meet mine, all the jealousy and my resolve to ignore him melt away.
I don’t know how to explain it; every time he looks at me, when our eyes meet, I feel a pull to him. He manages to completely disarm me. Deep inside, something yearns to be close to him.
Also, I find it hard to connect the serious, grumpy man in front of me with everyone’s perception of him as a playboy who takes nothing serious - especially women.
Sammy squeezes my wrist as she passes in front of me to go in the opposite direction to her car. My eyes flick to hers, and she has a sly grin on her face as she winks at me.
Tucker pushes off his truck when I get to the edge of the sidewalk and slides his hands in his pockets. He’s switched the cowboy hat and the button-down shirt he wore to dinner earlier for a baseball hat and a t-shirt that stretches across his chest.
I look up and down the dimly lit, empty street to see if maybe he’s here with someone. It’s kind of hard to believe that he’s here for me in the middle of the night. Clearing my throat, I’ve always hated that nervous habit, I ask, “What are you doing here?”
He moves to the front fender, his boots scraping against the concrete, and stops just a couple of feet away from me in front of the big tire. His limp is slight tonight. Since I’m standing on the edge of the curb, I’m almost tall enough to be eye level with him.
His cologne dances on the cool breeze in my direction, and I try to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. He’s trimmed the scruff on his face since Thursday and shaved all the stubble off his neck. He’s handsome, and part of me lights up at the possibility he might have done it for me.
Looking down at his boots, he rubs the back of his neck with his palm and looks away for a second before bringing his gaze back to me. “Just wanted to make sure you got home okay, that none of those guys came back to make trouble.”
Rumors are that Tucker Harlow is a playboy, but right now, nothing about him resembles a playboy. On the contrary, whatI’m seeing right now is a man who is unsure and possibly even shy.
He’s gone out of his way to ensure I’m okay. How fardoplayers go to get a piece of ass?
Maybe I can just have a fling without the attachment.
Right… dream on.
