Page 102 of Just One of the Groomsmen
“No,” Addie quickly said, and at Tucker’s skeptical look, she came clean. “Yeah. I’d never seen him like that. Either of your parents.”
She’d frozen, unsure what to do, and Tucker had stepped in front of her, acting as a shield as his dad ripped into them.
Then Mrs. Crawford had yelled at Mr. Crawford, telling him he could stuff his “my roof, my rules” lecture, since he couldn’t even pay the mortgage.
“They’d hidden it pretty well before that—usually I was the only one lucky enough to hear it.” Tucker tightened his grip on the wheel, and his words came out careful and measured. “Dad was months late on the mortgage yet again, and they’d discussed trying to sell even though my mom never wanted to, and the mud we’d tracked in was the last straw, I’m sure.”
“Well, we were crazy muddy. My mom wouldn’t have been happy, either.”
“Yeah, but she’d hose us off and offer us food while she continued to scold us.”
Not embarrass her and then ground her, Tucker meant, which was his punishment, along with her being banished from his house for what seemed like forever.
It was summer, and two weeks without being allowed to hang out was torture—especially since he’d already spent so much of it with his grandpa.
Even after the ban lifted, he’d been withdrawn, and rumors about his parents’ divorce followed shortly after. She’d tried to be there for him, but there’d been times when she wondered if she was ever getting her friend back.
Or if he’d have to move away before that happened.
The bank eventually foreclosed on their house and he and his dad—who never appreciated Tucker enough for what a kind, strong person he was, in her opinion—had to move into a cramped, rundown one-bedroom apartment.
One night she and Tucker had an intense talk where he confessed to feeling homeless, even though he’d added he was grateful he had a roof over his head and knew plenty of people had it worse.
Since Addie could sense him drifting from her at the memory, going to that place where he closed himself off, she quickly changed the subject. “Did you have any pets in Birmingham? It seems wrong to think of you without a dog by your side.”
Tucker cracked a smile and reached over to scratch Flash’s back. “Nah. I didn’t have time for a goldfish, much less a dog. I didn’t want to get one, only to have it be cooped up all the time.”
“Like you were cooped up?”
“Exactly. Flash and I need space.”
She hoped that was literal, countrified space.
Thanks to pushing the speed limit, they made it to her house in record time. Instead of driving off, Tucker insisted on taking her to work, since he had errands to run in town anyway.
One quick wardrobe change later, and they arrived in front of the clinic that housed the physical therapy office. Addie wanted to lean across the bench seat for a goodbye kiss, but way too many people were out and about, and while she was starting to care less and less if they knew, Tucker had made it clear he wanted to keep them a secret.
So she kissed the top of Flash’s head and said, “Pass it on.” She pointed to Tucker, and the puppy bounced over there and licked his hand.
“For the record, mine wasn’t that sloppy.” She pushed out the door and rounded the front of the truck.
“Not sure I believe you,” Tucker called out his open window. “I might need to collect more evidence later. In fact, why don’t you text me when you take your lunch, and if I’m still around, we can grab a bite.”
“Sounds good.” With that, she gave him one more wave and rushed into the building, hoping and praying her boss wasn’t in yet. Usually he came in on the later side.
Of course she wasn’t that lucky.
The instant she stepped inside the office, a whole twenty-five minutes late, her boss crossed his arms.
“Nice of you to finally join us,” Mr. Watkins said.
No excuse seemed good enough, and yes, it was unprofessional to be late, but it was the first time in years, and she had a really sexy excuse.
Mr. Watkins launched into a lecture about what he expected from his employees, and how he’d taken a chance on her, and asked his favorite question about if her name was on the door.
And while she would’ve loved to turn and walk right back out, not even the Moody Overlord could put a dent in her mood.
A nod and a few answers he wanted to hear, and she managed to escape to a quiet room.
