He’d wanted to be alone. Now? He’d never realized how empty and cold a house could be. The nights Elisa came over? The best and the worst.
He unfolded himself from the loveseat and met Elisa at the bottom of the stairs. Wrapping her in his arms, he kissed her as though his life depended on it. And right then, he wasn’t sure it didn’t.
When she ran her hands up his back, slid them beneath the camo shirt to touch his skin, a sound of pure male pleasure escaped him. His lips never leaving hers, he lifted her off her feet and carried her to one of the fancy little loveseats Desdemona liked. The kiss deepened and his hand moved up that elegant neck and touched, not her silky hair, but the black-and-white wig.
“Can we lose Cruella?” he mumbled as his lips traced her collar bone.
“Whoops, I forgot.”
“Let me.” Tucker removed the wig and pulled on the band that bundled all that gorgeous blond hair. As it tumbled around her shoulders, he ran his fingers through it. “You’re so beautiful, Lissie.”
“Kiss me, Tuck.”
He did.
Her fingers worked the buttons on his shirt, while his undid the zipper of her slinky Cruella dress.
Skin to skin, his heart fairly galloped. “I need you, sugar.”
“I—”
A car’s headlights shone through the open curtains.
“Oh, blithering bandits. Desdemona.” Elisa slid her dress up over her shoulders. “Zip me. Quick.”
Tuck’s fingers trembled. “Sorry. My hands…so clumsy.”
When he finally got the job done, he grabbed his shirt and shot his arms into the sleeves. “I’ll, ah, slip into the bathroom and make myself a little more presentable.”
“Good idea.” Frantically, she began to finger-comb her hair.
Their eyes met, and they broke out laughing.
“I feel like I’m fifteen again and just got caught by the parents,” Tuck said.
“Same here, but it would have been Grandma.”
The doorknob turned and so did Tuck. He headed for the powder room—leaving Elisa to face the music alone. He acknowledged that made him a dog.
When he had himself under control, Tucker braced for the male version of the walk of shame.
Yancy had tossed an arm over the back of the loveseat he shared with Desdemona while Elisa, looking sexily disheveled, curled up in a chair across from them.
“Doesn’t our girl look great, Tuck?” Desdemona boomed. “Yancy and I came in to find her bloomin’ like a rose.”
He met Elisa’s gaze and saw both amusement and embarrassment in them. “Yeah. Seems she’s stumbled onto something good.”
“Or someone,” Desdemona said. “I don’t think she’s alone in that.”
Doc Hawkins picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “It ought to be Valentine’s Day instead of Halloween. Lots of love floatin’ in the air tonight.”
Love? Tucker’s stomach quivered. Nah. Doc Hawkins had it wrong. It was hormones, that’s all.
Love had a way of sucker-punching you, then abandoning you while you were down for the count. He didn’t do love.
Chapter 20
Every morning, Elisa opened the bookstore’s door, took one step inside, and closed her eyes. Breathing deeply, she inhaled the scent of books and candles, and smiled.
She’d never have believed anyplace could be better to work at than the library in Bowden, yet this was. She could still share stories and recommend books, but no one had to be shushed. She chatted with her customers and shared an occasional cup of coffee with them. Guilt sometimes nipped at her because Desdemona was actually paying her to do this—while providing her and her child a wonderful place to live.
Her new happiness came with a dent in it, though. Tucker had inexplicably pulled back. He rarely dropped by, and when he did, there were no innuendoes, no flirting. He came as a friend.
She’d made lots of friends in Misty Bottoms. That’s not what she needed or wanted from him.
Halloween, she and Tucker had done quite a lot of treating and she’d hoped for…what? She wasn’t sure. But something she couldn’t put her finger on had scared Tuck away.
Before him, it had been so long since she’d touched, since she’d kissed. Been touched and kissed. She’d almost convinced herself she didn’t need or want it. Tucker had set off a deep longing in her, though, one she was afraid only he could satisfy. But he, obviously, didn’t feel the same way.
Maybe. The man was hard to figure out.
If she was more like Desdemona, she’d know what to do—and have the guts to do it.
While her mind raced, she started a pot of cinnamon-flavored coffee, then moved around the shop to give the shelves a quick dusting and to light pine-scented candles. Now that the calendar had flipped to November, the holiday season barreled toward them.
She couldn’t wait to decorate a small tree and start playing Christmas carols in the shop. She hoped the sights, sounds, and smells of the season would have people buying early for Christmas. Thanks to Desdemona, she’d have a little extra money this year to help Santa. Last year things had been pretty tight.
As far as Desdemona went, even if she could overcome her reluctance to ask her help in the romance department, her friend was rarely home in the evenings. She’d fed Elisa a line about helping Doctor Hawkins reorganize his office. Since she’d seen first-hand what a tight ship Brinna ran, Elisa doubted that ship needed any patching. Besides, Yancy and Desdemona could have set to rights every business in town in the amount of time they spent together.
Her feminine intuition told her there was more monkey business going on than actual business.
Doc almost always picked Desdemona up. When he dropped her off, a considerable amount of time passed between when Doc’s Caddy pulled into the driveway and when the front door opened. Add in his comment about love on Halloween and Elisa figured things were getting interesting. Desdemona Rosebud Hamilton didn’t like living alone, and maybe she wouldn’t have to for long.
Selfishly, Elisa realized that meant she and Daisy would need to find somewhere else to live. Somewhere in Misty Bottoms.
Somewhere she could run into Tucker occasionally.
She missed him and knew that when the truth came out about Harry, his role in Tucker’s sorrow would put an end to even their friendship.
Maybe it was best she was weaned off him slowly.
* * *
Tucker dragged his butt up the walk. His back ached and his knees hurt from kneeling on the bay’s concrete floor. Yet as tired as he was, he’d stayed at the shop way past quitting time. Again. A new habit he’d developed, a bad one. Brant had gone home a couple of hours earlier to a wife and dinner. Gaven had plans to meet friends at Duffy’s Pub for a meal and an evening of darts. Tucker’d been invited; he’d declined.
Instead, he was coming home late and alone. He unlocked the door and let himself into the quiet, dark house, carrying with him even darker thoughts. It had been a while, though, since he’d felt compelled to leave the house in the wee hours of the morning to drive around or visit the war memorial.
A heavy sadness dragged at him.
He hit the light switch and studied his immaculate house. Nothing out of place and no pictures askew. No sugary, dried cereal stuck to his expensive quartz countertop, no laughter or whispers or a little girl’s high-pitched voice singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” Breathing deeply, he smelled no girlie-girl lotion or hair products.
No Daisy and no Elisa.
At least he hadn’t driven past Desdemona’s tonight. The last time he’d done that, Daisy’d been playing in the yard. She’d recognized his car and waved. Busted by a three-and-a-half-year-old. When her mama came to the door, he’d sped away, ashamed of himself.
He should have stopped and asked how things were going. Instead, he’d run like a coward. Would he have done
that the day his friends died?
No. He’d have faced that enemy and, no doubt, died alongside his friends. What would that have done to his mother? To his father and brothers? His sister?
If he’d been there, could he have changed the outcome? Or was that, as Elisa had said, giving himself too much credit, thinking he alone could have saved them all?
He’d gone ’round and ’round with these questions—especially in the middle of the night. Bottom line? He had no answer. He had no way of knowing if Hard-Ass Harry had saved his life that day or, by ordering him to stay back, sealed his friends’ death warrants.
Heading to the kitchen for an icy beer, his thoughts returned to Elisa. To compare what was happening with her to his time overseas? It didn’t work.
First, she sure as hell wasn’t the enemy. Second, she scared the socks right off him, and yet he found her irresistible. That woman touched places in his heart he hadn’t even known existed, and that was downright frightening.
He’d had a taste of her. Heck, he’d had a lot more than a taste, and he wanted more. Every time he looked at her, every time they were in the same room, the air practically vibrated. Sleeping with her had been a huge mistake—but it was one he couldn’t regret.
Opening his beer, he took a long swallow.
He toed off his boots, emptied the contents of his pockets into the little bowl on the counter, then dropped his pants, covered in dirt and grease, right there in the kitchen. His shirt came off next and he added it to the pile by the refrigerator. Going to the sink, he scrubbed his hands again.
The temperature had dropped, inside and out, and he shivered.
Moving into the living room, he flopped onto the couch in T-shirt and boxers. He wedged a throw pillow under his head and closed his eyes. How many times in the past couple of weeks had he stopped at Dee-Ann’s and ordered takeout?
It wasn’t because he actually wanted it. His appetite had moved out right along with Elisa and Daisy. The food was a ruse. While he waited, he took a walk—a walk that carried him past Elisa’s bookstore.
Between Desdemona’s money and Elisa’s eye for design, the place had transformed from a rundown, tucked-away building to a magical place. The windows glistened after a good cleaning, and the paint, even though it was what he called fairy-princess pink, had been the perfect touch.
Despite himself, he’d stepped more than once onto the winding brick sidewalk to peek inside. With his salvage contacts, Cole had been tapped to find the furnishings and lighting and, from what Tucker could see through the window, he’d done one heck of a job.
Books were artfully arranged on shelves and in the display window. A bench outside welcomed customers to sit. Flowers hung from the small porch and others flourished in planters, adding a splash of late fall color.
They’d opened without any fanfare, yet the whole town knew about Just Books. He’d actually stopped by a couple of times and gone in, but only when other customers were there. A nod of his head was the only acknowledgment he’d given Elisa.
And again, shame on him.
When he rolled over on the sofa, his fingers touched something beneath the cushion. Rising on an elbow, he pulled out a little blue bow. Daisy Elizabeth’s. He ran a fingertip over the silky ribbon, a ribbon the same shade as her eyes, as her mama’s eyes.
He swore.
Jumping up, he headed to the shower.
The hot pounding water didn’t help. Tucker was clean, but he still ached to see Elisa, to talk to her. Hell, to kiss her. Striding to his closet, he pulled out a clean shirt and jeans. It seemed he’d take that ride to Desdemona’s after all.
* * *
The house was dark when he pulled up out front.
He should go home.
He couldn’t.
Quietly getting out of the car, he stood in the middle of the street and stared at the huge house. The temperature had dipped lower still and his hair was wet. If he had any sense at all he’d get back in his car, turn up the heater, and go home. Instead, he hustled through the yard toward the back. That’s where his girls slept.
What did Elisa sleep in? He’d seen her in her flowery nightgowns and his shirts. He liked her best in nothing at all…and that didn’t speak well for him, he supposed.
Heck, on second thought, there was nothing wrong with that. It made him a red-blooded male, that’s all. Elisa was a beautiful, sexy woman. Nothing wrong whatsoever with him wanting her.
Coming here in the middle of the night? That might be a different matter.
He stopped beneath what he was pretty sure was Elisa’s room. If he screwed up and popped into Desdemona’s, all hell would break loose. He didn’t doubt for a second the woman slept with a pearl-handled pistol beneath her pillow.
Maybe he should reconsider.
Nah. He’d come this far, he might as well put it all on the table. A large oak grew directly outside Elisa’s balcony. It had been a long time since he’d climbed a tree to get to a girl. He grinned. Guess he’d find out if he still had it in him. A flying leap gave him the height to grab a bottom limb. If it held, he was golden.
He swung himself up, wrapping his legs around the sturdy branch. Once he got himself righted, the climb was easy. Transferring to her balcony proved a little more difficult. When he glanced down, the ground sure seemed a long way away. This might not have been his best idea ever.
But the doorbell would have woken the entire household and kind of ruined his plans. He didn’t want to make small talk with Desdemona or deal with a cranky little girl. He wanted to spend some time with her mama, maybe do a little necking if Mama was so inclined.
Carefully, he hoisted himself over the railing and onto her balcony. She’d left her drapes open, and moonlight spilled into the room, highlighting her face. She slept on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek. His chest grew tight.
Okay now, this was wrong. He couldn’t stand out here watching her. That felt way too much like a Peeping Tom and wasn’t the reason he’d come. Raising a hand, he knuckle-rapped on the door’s glass.
Her eyes popped open.
“It’s me, Lissie.”
“Tucker?”
“I’m cold. Let me in.”
“Are you crazy?” She sat up, clutching the bed covers to her chest. “You can’t come in.”
“Why not? I risked life and limb to get up here.”
“Well, risk it again and go back down.” She tossed aside the bedcovers and moved to the door.
“Lissie. Come on, babe. Open the door.”
She was stunning. Her long blond hair was mussed, reminding him of the way it looked after he’d run his hands through it when they made love. Those incredible eyes were all sleepy and dreamy, and her voice was sleep-husky.
No flannel nightgown for Elisa tonight. The strap of the silky slip of a thing she wore slid off one shoulder, baring it. Tuck fantasized about dropping a kiss right beneath her collarbone, then nuzzling his way up her neck.
“Why did you stay away so long?”
“Because you…I…the two of us… It scares me.”
The lock snicked and the door opened.
She shivered.
“You cold, too?” he asked.
“I am now.” Reaching out, she snagged the front of his shirt and pulled him inside.
She kissed him, her lips hot on his chilled ones. Her skin beneath his cold hands felt smoother than any silk.
When she started to pull away, he dropped his forehead to hers. “One more minute. Let me hold you one more minute.”
She did. Another kiss followed, then another, until both were breathing hard.
“Why are you here?”
“I miss you.”
“You’ve totally ignored me.”
“And it’s about killed me.”
“Really?” Her voice softened. �
�I’m mad at you.”
“I’m mad at me, too, and I’m very, very sorry.” He dropped that kiss beneath her collarbone. “Forgive me?”
She sighed. “Don’t ever pull that again.”
“I won’t.” After another kiss, he said, “I want to take a look at your bathroom. Desdemona’s tour didn’t include your suite.”
“I wonder why.”
He winked. “Daisy’s told me about your tub, though.” He sneaked past her and flicked on a small lamp, his eye catching on a display of the photos she’d brought with her from Alabama, one of a grinning Daisy at what looked to be her first birthday party.
Then he took in the rest of the room. “Holy Hannah! This place is—”
“Yeah, it is.”
He turned to her, put his hands on her arms. “I could never give you this.”
“I don’t need this. I never expected it.”
Kicking himself, he loosened his hold and moved across the room, scrubbing a hand down his face. Why in the hell had he said that? He could never give her this? That implied a future. A permanent arrangement. Not what he was looking for. But then, didn’t you sometimes find what you wanted, needed, when you weren’t looking?
Put that thought away, he warned himself. There’s danger there. Take care of tonight.
He snaked an arm around her waist. “Want to fill that tub with bubbles?”
“Oh, fudge berries!”
He grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Chapter 21
Thanksgiving was less than two weeks away. Elisa couldn’t quite figure how that had happened. Already, Desdemona was stewing over the menu for the big dinner she planned. A couple dozen of her favorite people would share it with them.
Tucker wouldn’t be one of those. Elisa sighed at the tenderness he hid behind the sometimes brusque exterior he wore. The night he’d come to her room she’d felt like Rapunzel, her hero scaling the wall for her. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she remembered their shared bath. She couldn’t even look at that tub without going all tingly.
Desdemona had invited him and his brothers for the day, but they’d declined. Their mom, dad, and sister were driving in from Tennessee to spend time before the holiday with them, then the boys and Molly would drive to Lake Delores for Thanksgiving. Since their mother was still recovering from a bad stroke, they felt she might be more comfortable with only the family this year. As much as Elisa would miss Tucker, she understood. The Wylder men were doing the right thing. Family came at the very top of the priority list—if you were lucky enough to have one.
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