“Then you’re new. That means I get to buy you a drink.”
Before I could answer, Tucker’s voice cuts in, sharp and low. “She’s good.”
The man snaps his head to Tucker, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. “I didn’t ask you. I asked her.”
“Still answering, Jeffy,” Tucker says smoothly.
There it is, the edge under all of that confident charm he always has. The protectiveness he’d never admit to makes my chest feel tight, while also sending butterflies right to my stomach.
The man mutters something under his breath, and I watch as he walks away without another word.
When I turn back to Tucker, I arch a brow. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”
“I wasn’t jealous,” he says, leaning closer as his voice drops lower. “Just didn’t like his face.”
I shouldn’t do it, but I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. He’s got that grin plastered on his face again. The one that could sell trouble in bulk. It’s ridiculous how easy it is for him to pull off. Tucker knows what it does to me, no question about it. My pulse trips, and I tell myself it’s the few sips of tequila, and not him.
It’s definitely the tequila.
Taking another sip, I don’t take my eyes off him as I place my glass back on the bar top.
“You’ve got a dangerous smile, Tucker Daniels.”
“You think my smile is dangerous, Scottie?” He leans in even closer, if that’s even possible. “Good thing my contract only covers what happens on camera.”
CHAPTER 13
IS CHAUFFEURING A WOMAN HOME YOUR THIRD JOB?
Tucker
The crowd has died down and left the bar with just a few stragglers still singing off key despite Nan closing up the karaoke machine over an hour ago. The floor is sticky and smells like whiskey and fried food, and my back is sore as hell. But somehow, I can’t stop smiling because Scottie is here.
I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve been watching her all night. Laughing with Lily and Poppy at the bar. She didn’t get up to sing karaoke, but the three of them belted the songs—badly, but full of life.
She lights this whole damn place up.
Like she doesn’t even realize how much space she takes up just by being herself.
I’d be lying if I said I don’t like having a front row seat to it.
Lily leans against the bar, sipping the last of her drink like she’s savoring it. She has a look on her face like she needs to ask me something, but thinks I’ll say no.
“Having a good night?” I ask with a raised brow.
“Great night,” Lily says, dragging out her words. She turns to face Scottie and Poppy, who seem to be engaged in a deep conversation. “Scottie’s got potential.”
“At karaoke?”
“Life, Tucker,” she answers, still looking at her before she faces me again. “Not everything is about the music.”
Scottie laughs at whatever she and Poppy are talking about, and I face her again, wiping down the bar top. Her cheeks are flushed, hair a little wild, and eyes bright in a way that makes it hard to look away.
“A part of me is envious of her,” Lily continues. “But that’s how it starts.”
“How what starts?”
“Believing in the what ifs,” she says, voice barely above a whisper, as if she doesn’t want anyone to hear her saying it out loud. She glances at me and knows I heard it. “Believing in something like that will get you every time.”
