Already Gone Page 8

  If only it were still that easy. With the attitude she’s been tossing around lately, I half expect her to pull away, but she doesn’t.

  “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  “No! Go away.”

  I can’t. How am I supposed to just leave her here? I look up to find Scarlett leaning against the door jam. She tries to smile, but it ends up being more of a frown.

  “I love you, Chloe. So much.” I bend down and kiss her head. “Whenever you’re ready to talk about what happened tonight, I’m here.” Her cries grow louder, and the next thing I know, she’s in my arms.

  Chloe presses her face against my chest, and I hold onto her tighter than I think I ever have. “Oh, sweetheart. Whatever’s going on, it’s going to be okay, I promise you.”

  “He laughed at me,” she mumbles against my shirt.

  “Who?”

  She sits up and wipes the tears from her face. “Jimmy.”

  I hate Jimmy. I’ll kill him. “Why did he laugh at you?”

  “I don’t know.” She lifts a shoulder and sucks in a breath. “I asked him to dance, and his friends started laughing, and then some other girls who were standing there started laughing, and then he started laughing.”

  “Did you knee him in the balls?”

  “Tucker,” Scarlett chides.

  Chloe half-laughs, half-cries, and shakes her head. “I ran away and texted you.”

  “You did the right thing.” I pull her back into my arms. “Jimmy’s a jerk. Most boys are at that age.”

  I wish I had some words of wisdom to give to her, but I don’t. I don’t know what in the hell was going on in that kid’s head. Chloe is sweet and smart and beautiful…what’s not to love?

  “I just don’t get it,” she says, cuddling against me the way she did when she was a little girl. “When we were at the punch bowl, he told me I looked pretty, but then when I asked him to dance, he acted like a doofus.”

  “Sounds like he was trying to look cool in front of his friends.”

  “But he embarrassed me.”

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Did something like this ever happen to you?”

  I shake my head and push a strand of Chloe’s tear-soaked hair behind her ear. “I was never as brave as you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It took a lot of courage for you to ask Jimmy to dance. I never built up enough courage to ask the girl I liked to dance.” My eyes slide across the room to Scarlett. She straightens her back and watches me.

  Chloe follows my gaze. “You wanted to dance with Scarlett, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe.”

  Chloe smiles, and the knot in my stomach loosens. “I bet she would’ve said yes.”

  Scarlett walks into the room and sits on the other side of the bed by Chloe. “You think too highly of me.”

  Chloe’s brows pinch together. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, this isn’t easy to admit, especially to someone I admire—that’s you by the way,” she adds, shoulder-bumping Chloe. “But I wasn’t the nicest girl when we were growing up. Actually, I was probably the female version of Jimmy.”

  “I don’t believe it. You’re way too nice, and my dad tells me stories about how much fun the two of you had.”

  I take a breath and listen to Scarlett. “We did have fun together, outside of school. But during school, I wasn’t very nice.”

  “Why?” Chloe asks.

  “I wish I had a good answer for you, but I don’t. I was insecure and angry at the world. I always worried about what everyone else thought, and I…I just wasn’t very nice.”

  “What changed?” Chloe asks. “You seem to like my dad now.”

  Scarlett looks at me and grins. “I’ve always liked your dad. The problem was never him. It was me.”

  “You think that maybe Jimmy really does like me, but he’s too embarrassed to admit it in front of his friends?”

  “Maybe. But here’s the thing, if he can’t admit it in front of his friends, he isn’t worth your time. You’re young, and lots of boys will come in and out of your life—”

  “Not lots,” I clarify.

  Scarlett rolls her eyes and continues as though I didn’t interrupt her. “—but the good ones, the ones that are worth your time, they won’t make you cry. The good ones won’t laugh at you. They’ll make you smile. They’ll ask you to dance.”

  “Did my dad used to make you smile?”

  “All the time. Still does. Your dad is one of the good ones.”

  “Do you think that someday a boy will ask me to dance?”

  “I know it.”

  “That’s it, I’m going to have to chaperone every dance for the rest of your life.”

  Chloe giggles. “Please, don’t.”

  I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “I like it so much better when you’re laughing.”

  “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you, too. Why don’t you take a shower and wash the night away? It’ll make you feel better.”

  “I think you’re right. I’m sorry you had to come get me early and that I only wore my dress for a few hours.”

  “You don’t ever have to apologize for calling me to help you. I’m always here for you, Chloe. Today, tomorrow, twenty years from now. I’m always here. You’ll get a chance to wear the dress again.” I give her one final squeeze and stand up. I hold a hand out for Scarlett. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

  “Good night, Chloe,” Scarlett says, taking my hand.

  “Good night, Scarlett. Thank you for helping me with the dress, and for doing my hair and makeup.”

  “Anytime. And make sure you hang that dress up,” Scarlett says as I tug her out of Chloe’s room. “Make sure she hangs that dress up. You should probably have it dry-cleaned, too.”

  “Dry-clean. Got it.”

  We step out the front door, and Scarlett rests her head on my shoulder as we walk slowly across the yard.

  “You were great in there.”

  “Really? Because I was totally winging it. I sort of felt like I was flopping around and messing the whole thing up.”

  Scarlett steps in front of me, grips the front of my shirt, and tugs me forward. “I don’t think you can mess up. You’re a great dad. I wish I could’ve been around to see you with her when she was younger.”

  “No, you don’t. I was a walking disaster.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second. You’re great, Tucker, and not just with Chloe. You’re great with the community, and your family, and my dad. It’s embedded in your DNA.”

  “You think I’m great?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “I think you’re pretty okay,” I say, cupping her jaw in my hands. I brush my thumbs along her cheekbones and tilt her face to mine. “Should we talk about that kiss earlier?”

  “I don’t think we need to talk about it. I just think we need to do it more often.”

  “Have I ever told you that I like the way you think?”

  “Tucker, shut up and kiss me.”

  She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I lower my mouth to hers.

  This feels so surreal.

  I’ve dreamed of being like this with Scarlett for so long. I’ve dreamed of kissing her and holding her. I’ve dreamed of what it would be like to feel her body pressed against mine. I never believed it would happen, and now that it has—and still is—I have to convince myself that it’s real.

  I wrap an arm around her back and deepen the kiss. Her mouth slides over mine with lips that are soft yet confident. She lifts onto her toes. The press of her body against mine is delicious. As she pushes her fingers into my hair, she makes the sexiest sounds—moans and whimpers and murmurs that have my body vibrating with energy—and I want and need to get as close to her as I possibly can.

  With one hand on the small of her back, I curl the other around the nape of her neck. I can’t get enough of her. My dreams wer
e nothing compared to the reality of having her in my arms. We’re a frenzy of hands and tongues, searching and exploring and—

  “Oh my God!” Scarlett squeals.

  One minute, we’re kissing. The next, we’re being doused by ice-cold water. Scarlett laughs and holds up her hands. “When did my dad get sprinklers?”

  “I installed them last summer,” I say, laughing at the situation.

  We’re both soaked to the bone, but neither of us moves. She’s absolutely gorgeous. Her big eyes blink. Water drips from her eyelashes and her nose. The old Scarlett would’ve been pissed, but the woman in front of me—the woman she is today—looks carefree and happy, and not at all bothered by the wet mop on her head or the makeup running down her face.

  “You should probably kiss me again before I have to go inside.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  I close the small distance and kiss her. This time, our lips move in lazy, unhurried movements, slow and deep. After several long seconds, I feel her mouth smile against mine. We separate, and I lower my forehead to hers.

  She touches her lips as though they’re still buzzing from our kiss and takes a step back. “We’re doing that again tomorrow, right?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She pulls away and grins as she walks backward toward the front door of her father’s house.

  “Good. That’s good.” Scarlett hops up the steps of her porch and stops with her hand on the front door knob. “Goodnight, Tucker.”

  “Night, Scarlett.”

  Her beautiful smile is the last thing I see before she slips through the front door. It’s impossible to keep from smiling as I turn and head back across our yards.

  “Tucker?”

  I turn around to find Alexis shutting the front door. She pulls the strap of her purse farther onto her shoulder and steps off the porch.

  “Hey, Lexi. It was really nice of you to let Scarlett have the night off.”

  “She deserved it. I didn’t realize you two were going to spend the evening together.”

  “Neither did I. It was sort of last-minute.”

  She nods and looks away for a beat before her eyes pull back to mine. “So, the two of you are a thing now?”

  “You know…” I scratch my head. “I don’t really know what we are.”

  “Well, judging by the lip-lock a second ago, you’re something.”

  “You saw that, huh?”

  “Couldn’t miss it. You two were practically humping in the front yard.”

  I laugh. “That’s a little dramatic.”

  “I know it’s none of my business, but I don’t want to see you get hurt, so I’m going to say it anyway. You need to be careful with her. Don’t get too comfortable.”

  Her words leave a sour taste in my mouth for many different reasons. “She’s not going to hurt me.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. This is temporary, Tucker. She’s here until Dad gets better. Her friends aren’t here, her home isn’t here, her life isn’t here.”

  I know that she’s right, but I’ll be damned if Scarlett’s actions don’t speak differently. “I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself.”

  “Of course, you can. I wasn’t trying to imply that you couldn’t, It’s just—you know what? Never mind.”

  Lexi pulls her keys from her purse and unlocks her car.

  Go back inside, Tucker, just walk away. But I can’t. I know it’s none of my business, but I hate the way that Lexi views her sister.

  “Whatever anger you’re holding onto, Lexi, you need to let it go.”

  Her head pops up. “Excuse me?”

  “You’ve got a chip on your shoulder when it comes to Scarlett. Yes, she screwed up, but she’s tried to make it right over the years. Did you ever thank her for the car she bought you? Or the year’s worth of housekeeping she paid for? Or what about the time she bought every item off your baby registry?”

  Even in the dark, I can see her face pale. “How did you know about all of that?”

  “Rick told me.”

  “Of course, he did. He’s always bragging about Scarlett.”

  “He brags about you too, you’re just not around when he does it. It’s not a competition. She’s your sister, Lexi, and she loves you. Cut her some slack. Have you even brought the kids over here to see her since she’s been home?”

  Tears shimmer in Lexi’s eyes as she shakes her head. “No, but they’ve been asking to see her.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?”

  “I don’t want her to leave them the way she left me.”

  “It’s been twelve years. She’s not the same person she once was. Give her a chance, Lexi. She can’t prove you wrong if you don’t give her a chance.”

  “Is that what you’re doing, giving her a chance and hoping that she proves you wrong?”

  “She has nothing to prove when it comes to me.”

  Because I have no control when it comes to her.

  10

  ~Scarlett~

  “Whoa.”

  “What?” Dad asks, looking down at his nice, blue polo shirt and khaki shorts. “Did I drop something on myself?”

  “No, you look really nice,” I reply and stand to straighten his collar. “What are you all dressed up for?”

  Before he can answer, the doorbell rings.

  “Hold that thought.” I hurry over to the front door and find Tucker standing on the other side. He’s in a sharp green button-down with jeans that hug his thighs perfectly. He shuffles back and forth on his cowboy boots.

  And he’s holding flowers.

  “Dad, your date’s here.”

  Tucker’s eyes dance with humor as he steps inside.

  “He’s not my date,” Dad says with a laugh.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, tilting my head to the side and hooking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

  “These are for you,” Tucker says, holding the arrangement of red poppies and purple lilacs in my direction. “And I’m taking you out on the town this evening.”

  “Is Dad coming with us?” I raise a brow and look back at my father, who’s currently smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

  “Nah, I’ve got poker night,” Dad replies.

  “And Chloe’s at a friend’s house for the night.” Tucker leans against the door and grins at me. “So, we have the whole evening to ourselves.”

  “Poker? Dad, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “I had a stroke, I’m not dead. I’ll be here at home—my walker within reach—and the guys will be here if I need something. Go on your date, and don’t worry about me.”

  “But…” I look down at my cut-off shorts and dirty tank top. “I’ve been scrubbing bathrooms,” I inform Tucker. “I’m in no shape to go out right now.”

  “You’ve got thirty minutes,” Tucker replies, his eyes sweeping up and down my body, leaving gooseflesh in the wake of his gaze. “And then you’re mine.”

  “Thirty minutes?” I laugh and shake my head. “I need at least an hour.”

  “Thirty,” Tucker repeats, his voice strong, leaving no room for argument. He’s gazing at me with lust and manly affection, and I can’t resist him.

  “I’d better hurry.”

  I rush up the stairs to my room, excited about my impromptu date, and strip out of my clothes. A decade of concerts with more costume changes than a girl can shake a stick at has come in surprisingly handy for this occasion.

  I’m in and out of the shower in five minutes. Thankfully, I washed my hair last night, so all I have to do is use the blow-dryer and a big brush to tame my long locks. At the halfway point of my allotted time, I brush on some makeup and hurry to the closet.

  This is going to be the hard part. What the hell do I wear? I wish I had my full wardrobe back in Tennessee to work with. Sure, Tuck’s always just been a friend, but we’re much more than that now, and I want to look my best.

  I’ll ponder the whole more thought later. There’s no time right
now.

  It’s warm out this evening, so I settle on a pretty summer dress. It’s pink, flowy, and falls off one shoulder.

  With one last look in the mirror, I slip on some brown sandals and hurry downstairs.

  “Twenty-eight minutes,” I say triumphantly. “That’s a record.”

  Tucker’s eyes are pinned to me, and his jaw drops. The lust in his eyes has me squeezing my thighs together. This man is lethal.

  “You sure look nice, sugar,” Dad says as he plants a kiss on my cheek. “Now, you two have fun tonight. Be careful. Be safe, if you know what I mean.”

  “Dad.”

  “Do you have condoms?” he asks Tucker, pulling him out of the apparent lusty fog he’s been in. “Because if not, I might have some—”

  “Oh my God, Dad.” I cover my ears and close my eyes. “Stop talking.”

  Tucker wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. “We’re good to go.”

  “All right, then. Have fun, you two.” Dad smiles smugly. “I just want to say, I told you so.”

  “Goodnight,” I say, narrowing my eyes at my father. “Wait, we can’t leave until your friends get here. What time are they coming?”

  We hear a car door slam.

  “Sounds like right now,” Dad says. “Don’t come home before midnight. We play pretty late, and no women allowed.”

  “So noted,” I mumble, feeling frazzled as Tucker guides me down the porch steps toward his car in his driveway.

  “Hi, Miss Scarlett,” Ray Howard calls with a wave. “Thanks for letting us borrow your daddy tonight.”

  “Have fun!” I wave back and climb into Tucker’s car. “I haven’t seen Ray since I was a kid.”

  “He and your dad are close,” Tucker says with a nod and pulls away from the house. “Rick will be well taken care of tonight.”

  “How long have you been planning this?”

  “A few days.” He glances at me and grins. His face is freshly shaven, and I can’t resist reaching out to brush my fingertips down his cheek. He takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles before resting our linked hands on his leg.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Are you hungry?” he asks.

  “I’m always hungry.”