Already Gone Page 5

  “Only if you can forgive me.”

  All of the breath rushes from my lungs. “For what?”

  “For the way I talked to you last night when I brought over the spaghetti.”

  “I deserved it.”

  “No, you didn’t. I was rude and disrespectful. I’m not gonna lie, Scarlett, you hurt me when you left. You were my best friend, and then you were just…gone. I hate to admit that I lost myself after you left. So, I guess the saying is true because when you did finally come back, instead of giving you a hug and telling you how much I missed you, I got angry.”

  “You had every right to get angry,” I insist, wanting so badly to ask him why he thinks he lost himself. But we’re not there yet, and I don’t have the right to ask those questions.

  “I don’t want to be angry, and I sure as hell don’t want to fight with you, Scarlett.”

  “I don’t want that either,” I reply and lean my cheek on his shoulder. The warmth of his body radiates through me, and I find myself melting against him.

  “Does that mean you forgive me for being a complete dick?”

  I grin and glance up at him. “I forgive you. Now, what about you?”

  “What about me?” he asks, and I roll my eyes and push away from him. Despite the heat, my hand feels cold after he lets me go.

  He reaches over with a smile and brushes my hair behind my ear, and I can’t help but lean into his touch as his finger slides along my cheek.

  It never felt like this when Tucker touched me when we were kids—full of electricity and awareness. It’s scary and exciting all at once.

  He lowers his face until he’s just inches from my lips. I swear to Jesus, the man is going to kiss me, but instead, he says, “I forgive you, Scarlett Jane.”

  My eyes fall to his full lips. He’s breathing a little faster than normal. My body is tight with anticipation and a new longing that I don’t recognize but want to explore.

  “No one’s called me that since I was seventeen.”

  “Good.”

  “Hey, Dad! You have to see this,” Chloe yells, busting through the back door. “I’m teaching Rick to play gin rummy, and he’s totally beating me. It’s like he’s gifted or something!”

  Tucker holds my gaze, humor filling his whiskey-colored eyes.

  He pulls back and glances over at Chloe.

  “He’s not gifted,” I reply and stand. “He taught me to play that game.”

  “You’re a shark!” Chloe yells as she hurries back inside, making both me and Tucker laugh.

  “She’s so great, Tuck,” I say softly.

  “She’s the best,” he agrees.

  “Where’s her mom?” The words fly from my mouth before I have a chance to think them over.

  His eyes whip to mine in confusion. “You don’t know?”

  “How would I? I haven’t been here for a while, remember?”

  He shakes his head, and I have the distinct feeling that I just said something very wrong.

  “You know,” he says as he stands from the table. “I’ve come to grips with the fact that you didn’t come home all those years. But now you’re saying you never even asked about me? I never came up in conversation with your dad?”

  “Of course, you did, Tuck. But it’s not like my dad is going to tell me all about your marriage, even if he knew the details. My dad’s not a gossip.”

  “Because there wasn’t a marriage to talk about.” Tucker walks away from me to the end of the back porch and shoves his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts, staring at the lightning bugs.

  “You don’t have to talk about it,” I offer, but he shakes his head and turns back to me.

  “I’m sorry for overreacting.”

  “Maybe it’s habit?” I offer, earning a half-smile.

  “One I need to break,” he agrees. “Frankly, I think tonight has been good, and I’d rather not taint it with my shady past.”

  “Oh, it’s shady? Now I really need to know. Let’s pop some popcorn, and you can give me all the scandalous details.”

  “Still a smartass, I see.”

  “That’s never going to change, Tucker Lee.”

  His lips twitch. “Clearly, we’ve made up if we’re using our full names.”

  “Or we’re mad at each other. My dad used to call me Scarlett Jane when I was in trouble.”

  “I’m not mad,” Tucker says with a slow shake of his head.

  “Me either,” I breathe. “But, Tuck?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I want to know everything. From the minute I left.”

  “How long are you going to be here?”

  “For as long as it takes.”

  He tilts his head to the side, watching me. It’s implied that I’m here for as long as it takes for my father to heal, but now it means so much more than I ever expected.

  “Good answer.”

  7

  ~ Tucker ~

  “I’ll take a beer.” Scooter plops onto a lounge chair and nods toward the cooler at my feet.

  “I bet you will,” I say, flipping the burgers. “I’m a little busy here. Get it yourself.”

  “You’re standing right there.”

  Dean rolls his eyes, grabs Scooter a beer, and tosses it to him.

  “Thank you, Dean.” Scooter pops the top and leans back. “You’ve always been my favorite cousin.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Language.” Mom smacks me on the back of the head and peers over my shoulder at the food on the grill. “How are those burgers coming, sweetheart?”

  “You can’t hit me on the back of the head and then call me sweetheart.”

  “I’m your mother, I can do whatever I want, and you know better than to cuss with Chloe around.”

  “She’s in the house. It’s not like she heard me.”

  “You tell him, Aunt Theresa.” Scooter salutes my mom with his beer, and she ruffles his hair.

  “You’re such a good boy, Scooter.”

  Dean laughs, spewing beer across the deck. “Scooter, good? You have met him before, right?”

  “See what I put up with?” Scooter sticks his lower lip out in a pout, and of course, Mom falls for it—hook, line, and sinker.

  She pats Scooter’s cheek and smiles fondly at her only nephew before coming back over to me. “How much longer on those?”

  “Ten minutes, tops.”

  “Don’t forget to make mine well-done. You know how I feel about pink in the center.”

  “I know, Ma. You remind me that every time I grill.”

  She stares at me for a few seconds and then furrows her brow. “Are you okay, honey? You seem kind of crabby today.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You know”—Scooter kicks his legs over the side of his chair and sits up—“I thought he seemed a little fussy today, too.”

  Fussy? What am I, two? I roll my eyes and concentrate on the food. “I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.”

  Because I was up all night thinking about Scarlett and the hooded look to her eyes right before Chloe walked outside.

  “Your lack of sleep wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain someone who’s back in town, would it?” Dean asks.

  I love my brother, but I’m going to kill him for saying that in front of Mom.

  “What certain someone?” Mom swoops in like flies on shit. “Who’s back in town?”

  “No one, Ma.”

  “Scarlett Kincaid.” Scooter shrugs when I look at him. “What? She was going to find out sooner or later.”

  Mom’s eyes bounce between Scooter and Dean before she turns fully toward me. “Scarlett is home? I’d hardly call her no one. How long has she been here? Have you seen her? What did you talk about?”

  Scooter hands his beer to Dean and brings a finger to his mouth.

  “You knew that Rick had a stroke, right?” I ask.

  “Yes, but I didn’t expect it to bring Scarlett home,” she says, while Scooter mouths “oh, Scarlett,” wraps
his arms around the pretend country music star and proceeds to make out with her behind my mother’s back.

  My lips twitch, but I clear my throat and keep my expression even. “He’s her dad. Of course, she came home. Give her a little credit.” I know Mom isn’t Scarlett’s biggest fan, and Scarlett might be self-centered, but she’s a good person at her core.

  “I’m just shocked, that’s all. Is she staying with Rick?”

  Here we go with the twenty questions.

  “Yep.”

  “Have you talked to her or not?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “How long is she in town for?”

  “No clue. Ask her yourself.”

  “Are you two…?”

  I set the spatula down and lift an eyebrow. “Are we what?”

  Scooter whips an imaginary condom from his pocket, tears it open with his teeth and pretends to roll it down his shaft.

  “Copulating. Are you two copulating?”

  Scooter stops thrusting his hips long enough to frown at the back of Mom’s head. “Copulating?” he mouths. Dean tries to hold in his laugh but loses the battle. He stands up and shakes his head.

  “Oh, come on, Dean,” Mom chides. “You’re a grown man. You too, Scooter. Wipe the grin from your face.”

  “Do you have to use the word copulating?” Dean asks, curling his lip. “Why can’t you just ask him if he’s screwing around with Scarlett?”

  “Okay.” Mom looks at me, her head tilted contemplatively. “Are you and Scarlett—?”

  “No.” I hold up a hand, stopping her and this conversation from going any further. “We’re not copulating, or anyth—"

  “What’s copulating?” Chloe asks, stepping outside. The screen door slams shut behind her. I’ve asked her a million times to close the door so it doesn’t slam. Clearly, my words have gone in one ear and out the other.

  “Christ.” I look up at the sky and pray for patience to deal with my family. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  “I’m gonna go check on the potatoes and tell your dad and aunt and uncle that the food is almost ready.” Mom gives me a good-luck-with-Chloe look before slipping through the back door.

  “Fine, don’t tell me, I’ll just look it up later on the iPad,” Chloe says, causing Scooter’s eyes to widen, and Dean to choke on his beer.

  I level her with my best firm-dad look. “Chloe.”

  She holds up her hands. “I’m kidding. Hey, Uncle Dean. Hi, Scooter,” she says, giving Dean a hug.

  Dean was a big help when Chloe was little and has always been like a second dad to her. I’m grateful that she’s stayed close to him as she’s gotten older, and I know he appreciates it, too.

  “How’s it going, kiddo?” Dean kisses the side of her head.

  “Good.”

  “You’re getting so big.”

  “Dad says I look just like my mom.”

  My heart stutters inside my chest. I always try to answer Chloe’s questions about her mom as best as I can because Valerie is a sore subject with me. She left our little girl without a mother, and that’s something I can’t get past.

  Dean looks at me before dragging his eyes back to Chloe. “Your mom was beautiful,” he says, tucking Chloe’s hair behind her ear. “Won’t be long, and your dad will be fighting the boys away with a stick.”

  “You don’t have a boyfriend, yet, do you?” Scooter asks.

  Chloe blushes and shakes her head. “No, but I have my first dance on Friday.”

  Shit, I forgot about that.

  “Wow. Your first dance.” Scooter grabs his beer and sits back in the lounge chair. He takes a pull from his bottle and stares off at the sky. “Next thing we know, you’ll be off to college and getting married.”

  “Whoa,” I say, shaking my head. “One thing at a time. I’m not ready for her to grow up quite that fast. And speaking of your dance, what’re you going to wear?”

  “You promised you’d take me shopping. We’re running out of time, Dad.”

  “You have a ton of dresses in your closet. Can’t you wear one of them?”

  Chloe looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “No. I need a new one. And matching shoes. Everyone has seen those dresses, Dad. And most of them are for little girls anyway.”

  “You are a little girl,” I remind her, only to be given the preteen scowl I’ve come to know and hate.

  “This is why I refuse to ever have a daughter,” Scooter announces. “Too high-maintenance.”

  “Oh, come on, I’m good for all sorts of stuff.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, I’m perceptive.” Chloe taps her finger to her lips, thinking it over.

  “Do you even know what that means?” Scooter asks.

  “Yes, but the real question is, do you?”

  Dean and I bust up laughing. I love my girl. She’s smart as a whip. She gets her good looks from her mom, but every other thing about Chloe is all me.

  “Good one.” Scooter finishes off his beer and sets it on the ground beside his chair. “But I’m going to need you to back it up. Tell me something about your dad that I can use against him later.”

  Chloe grins. “Dad likes Scarlett.”

  “We all like Scarlett. Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “He likes her, likes her. He almost kissed her last night.”

  “What?” Scooter flies up in his seat, and Dean’s jaw drops.

  “Chloe.” When did my daughter turn on me? And why was I so careless when she was close by last night? I’ve always kept other women out of Chloe’s life, and I sure as hell haven’t brought one home. She’s never even seen me hold a woman’s hand. “I didn’t almost kiss her.”

  Chloe shrugs. “That’s what it looked like to me. You don’t have to be embarrassed, Dad. I like her. If you want to kiss her, you can. I approve.”

  Scooter pats the chair next to him. “Tell me everything.”

  “Well, when I ran outside, Dad was holding Scarlett’s cheek, and their faces were really close together. Like, super close. He was totally gonna kiss her.”

  “Chloe, go inside and tell your grandma and Aunt Laura that I’m pulling the burgers off the grill.”

  “Fine.” She huffs but knows better than to argue with me.

  “Chloe, be a dear and grab me another beer before you go back inside.”

  I kick Scooter’s chair. “Get it yourself. My daughter isn’t your maid.”

  “It’s okay.” Chloe grabs a beer from the cooler and hands it to Scooter.

  “Thanks for the info. And the beer,” he says, taking it from her. “You’re my favorite second cousin.”

  “Actually, I’m your first cousin, once removed.”

  “Huh?” Scooter shields his eyes from the sun and frowns up at her.

  “Never mind.” Chloe disappears inside.

  “Tucker?”

  I ignore Scooter and flip the burgers one last time. “I’m not talking about her with you.”

  “Fine. You listen. I’ll talk.” He stands up and walks to me. “You’ve had a crush on that girl since the third grade, and then she fled this town faster than a nun from a whore house, your feelings be damned. She’s a superstar, Tuck. Famous beyond any of our imaginations.”

  “I get that.”

  “I don’t think you do. She can do anything, go anywhere, have anyone.”

  “Are you trying to tell me I’m not good enough?”

  “Hell, no.” Scooter shakes his head. “If anything, you’re too good for her.”

  I wouldn’t go that far.

  “Look, all I’m saying is watch out for that one. Your life is here, and well…hers isn’t.”

  “I know that.”

  “Good.” With a final nod of his head, Scooter walks inside, leaving me alone with Dean, who watches me carefully.

  “You gonna warn me against her, too?”

  “Nope.” Dean shakes his head. “It wouldn’t do any good. You’ve never cared what other people think. I lea
rned a long time ago that you always do what you want to do.”

  “But…” Because there’s always a but.

  “But, I think you should tread lightly. She broke your heart once. I don’t put it past her to do it again.”

  “She didn’t break my heart.” I was eighteen and in lust. I had no clue what love was at the time. And now, well, now I’m older and wiser and know better than to fall victim to whims evoked by a pretty girl.

  “Whatever you have to tell yourself.” Dean claps a hand on my shoulder. “Just take it slow and don’t get too attached.”

  When the back door shuts, my eyes drift to Rick’s house. Scarlett is standing in her dad’s kitchen near the sink. She glances up and catches me looking at her through the window.

  Dean’s words echo in my head, and all I can think is: easier said than done. I’ve never had any sense when it comes to this girl.

  She lifts a hand and waves, her smile slow and soft.

  I am so screwed.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “What’s wrong with this one?” Chloe lifts her arms and looks at herself in the mirror. “It’s cute.”

  “It’s too short.”

  “You said that about the last three dresses.”

  “Chloe, I’m not buying you a dress that short, end of story. Maybe you should try on a long one.”

  “I don’t want to try on a long dress. Long dresses aren’t in this season. All of my friends are wearing short dresses.”

  “If all of your friends jumped off a cliff, would you follow?”

  Chloe rolls her eyes and stomps into the dressing room. I smile to myself and lean back in the chair to wait for Chloe.

  “This one is it, Dad.”

  Thank God, because I don’t know how much more of this I can take, and we’ve only been here for—I look at my watch—thirty minutes.

  Chloe squeals and sashays out of the dressing room in a red, strapless dress. If she bends over, she’ll flash the entire world. “Where’s the other half?”

  “Other half?”

  “Of the dress. Chloe, this one is shorter than the last. And it’s strapless. No way. Try on the next one.”

  “There isn’t a next one, Dad. This is the dress.”

  “This is a dress, but it’s not the dress because I’m not paying for that scrap of material.”