Page 69 of Just One of the Groomsmen
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you callin’ mea hog?”
He positioned her in front of the steering wheel and placed her hands on the smooth, polished wood. “I’m callingushogs.”
“So much better,” she said with a laugh. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “If you’re a hog, I’m a hog.”
“We have weird conversations.”
“Don’t act like you don’t like them.”
His chest bumped her back as he guided her hand to the throttle. His lips brushed her temple, and her body turned drunk-with-desire once again. “I count down the hours until we can have them.”
A swirl went through her gut, her thoughts about whether or not she should attempt line-crossing switching sides on her.
He hadn’t come out and said he felt the pull, but he wouldn’t constantly be putting his hands on her if he didn’t.
Would he?
Chapter Sixteen
Addie had been sending confusing signals all night.
Tucker would be sure they were on the verge of tipping the scales from friendship to more, but something held her back, which made him hold back.
He didn’t want to push. Didn’t want to ruin their easy hangouts and years of effortless friendship.
Yet he couldn’t seem to help himself when it came to touching her. He wrapped his hand around the curve of her hip, splaying his fingers.
She sucked in a sharp breath. So definitely not unaffected, but he needed more than that to risk breaching the friendship boundary.
“That’s the dock, right?” she asked.
Oops. If he didn’t pay attention, his freshly finished boat would end up in need of fixing again, they’d be taking an impromptu swim, and Addie might never forgive him for wrecking them in occasionally gator-infested water.
Teasing her about them had made her move closer and grab hold of him, and hemight’vetaken advantage of that fact. If it meant having her cling to him like that, he’d see alligators everywhere he looked from here on out.
“Yeah, so just ease off the accelerator, and then…” He reached over her and maneuvered them next to the dock.
He climbed out of the boat, secured it in place, and extended a hand.
Even after semi-allowing his help lately, he halfway expected her to slap it away. Instead she placed her palm in his and let him pull her onto the wooden dock.
A mere breath of space remained between their bodies, and when the breeze stirred her hair, the strawberry scent that’d imprinted itself on his brain and slowly driven him crazy wafted over him.
Her eyes met his, and she licked her lips.
Right as he’d decided that was a signal, and he was going to go for it, she took a step back.
She rubbed her neck and glanced at the boat, the crinkle in her forehead making it clear she was battling the thoughts going through that beautiful head of hers.
“Remember how I can read your tells?” He cupped her chin and gently tipped her face to his. “Talk.”
She arched an eyebrow. “And if I refuse?”
At this point, he supposed it didn’t matter, because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer.
He needed to know if something else—namely someone else—was in the way. “Tell me you’re not holding back because of the dentist. I hoped watching you play football this afternoon with your burly group of friends would scare him off, even if that makes me an ass.”
“You’re definitely more ass-like than usual whenever it comes to him.”
