Already Gone

by Kristen Proby

  I’ve spent the last five days shuffling him to and from therapy, watching way more reality TV than I thought possible, and enjoying spending time with him while trying to get glimpses of our ridiculously handsome neighbor.

  Chloe came over to see us after school until Tucker got home from work. It seems that’s her usual routine and has been since her first day of kindergarten. I kind of love that my father has had such a strong role in Chloe’s life, and sad that I didn’t know her at all until now.

  I never would have imagined that I’d miss out on so much here in New Hope. Which I know makes me sound like a self-centered bitch.

  “Hi there, Lexi,” Dad says when my sister walks through the front door. She’s carrying a bag of groceries in one hand and a baking pan in the other.

  “Hello,” she says, smiling at Dad. When her eyes turn to me, the smile doesn’t fall from her face, which shocks the hell out of me. “I thought I’d come over and hang out for a while.”

  “Well, this is a nice surprise,” Dad replies.

  “I brought chicken cordon bleu with me,” she continues, marching into the kitchen. “Scarlett, will you please come in here?”

  So you can yell at me again? No, thank you.

  I don’t move, and Dad gives me the look.

  “Sure.” I walk into the kitchen and stop short when Lexi smiles at me. It’s not a fake smile, either. It’s a real one. She must be drunk. “What’s up?”

  “Look, I know you’ve been putting in a lot of hours around here. You’ve done a good job with Dad this week.”

  I narrow my eyes, wondering when the other shoe will drop.

  “Why don’t I spend the evening with Dad, and you go take some time for yourself?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but am I talking with Alexis Jean Kincaid? My little sister?”

  She shrugs. “I’m in a good mood.”

  “I like it.” Without overthinking it, I rush over and give her a hard, fast hug, startling both of us. “Thank you. I’ll be home by midnight.”

  “Have fun,” she calls as I walk into the living room with Dad.

  “Do you mind if I go out for the evening while you and Lexi hang out?”

  “Not at all. Go spend some time with Tucker. Make him take you somewhere nice.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “I had no idea you were such a romantic, Dad.”

  I hurry up to my bedroom and change into a pair of jeans with a black button-down top, slip into my cowboy boots, and run a brush through my dark hair. With a few swipes of a makeup brush, I’m ready to go.

  I wave to Lexi and Dad, then set off across the yard to Tucker’s house.

  And just as I approach the front door, I hear yelling inside.

  “Just a little makeup!” Chloe yells.

  “I said no makeup,” Tucker replies. “It’s bad enough I’m letting you wear that dress. Don’t push me on this, Chloe.”

  I open the door without knocking and smile when both heads turn my way.

  “Hi.”

  “I’m not going,” Chloe says, stomping her foot.

  Tucker sighs, and before he says anything, Chloe runs upstairs to her bedroom.

  “So, this is going well,” Tucker says and rubs his hand over his mouth before climbing the stairs after his daughter. I follow behind and listen outside the door.

  “Chloe.”

  “You just want me to look like a baby.”

  “No, I want you to look like an eleven-year-old.”

  “It’s just a little makeup.”

  “Um, guys?”

  Tucker sighs and looks back at me. His eyes are defeated, and maybe a little sad.

  “Can I please help?”

  “He won’t listen,” Chloe says and throws herself over her bed dramatically. Tucker’s jaw clenches in frustration.

  I don’t want to cross a line, but I do want to help.

  “Chloe, you need to apologize to your father.”

  Both heads whip around in surprise.

  “What?” Chloe asks.

  “You heard me. Remember last week when we talked about compromise and your attitude?”

  She cringes and then nods. “Sorry, Dad.”

  “Now. There is a compromise here. Tucker, if you trust me, I’d be happy to help Chloe with her hair and makeup.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “Lexi is with him. She offered to spend the evening with him so I could have a night off.”

  “Lexi? As in your sister, Alexis?”

  “Shocking, I know. So, what do you say? Can I help Chloe?”

  He props his hands on his hips and watches me, then sighs and nods. “Okay. Thank you. But not too much.”

  “You’re welcome. And no clown makeup, I promise.” I make a cross over my heart. “Now, this is a girls-only zone. You go wait for the big reveal.”

  I shoo him out of the room and then turn to Chloe. “You’ll never get your way with him if you yell and stomp your foot. You sound like a baby.”

  “But he makes me so mad.”

  “I think the feeling’s mutual.” I sigh and reach for her hairbrush. “Now, let’s get down to business. If it’s okay with you, I’ll help you with your hair and makeup.”

  “Yes, please. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “It’s a good thing that I do.” I wink and get to work, and before long, we’re done.

  “Wow,” she says when I finally let her look in the mirror. Chloe touches her soft curls, blinks her big, beautiful eyes that are highlighted with just a touch of mascara, and smiles. “I look really pretty.”

  “You sure do,” I agree. “Let’s go show your daddy.”

  I follow Chloe downstairs and into the kitchen where Tucker’s doing the dishes. When he looks up at his daughter, he smiles brightly.

  “Well, look at you.”

  “What do you think?” Chloe holds out the skirt of her dress and turns in a circle.

  “I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world,” he says and hugs her to his side, careful not to mess up her hair. “My little girl isn’t so little anymore.”

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you loosen your grip just a little?”

  “Sorry.” Tucker gives her one last squeeze and takes a step back. “Now, are you ready to go to the dance?”

  “Yes. Can I have my phone?”

  “Yep.” He takes an iPhone out of a cabinet, turns it on, and passes it to her. “It’s fully charged. You may call or text me and Jenny only.”

  “Can I take some pictures?”

  “Yes. And text me when you’re ready to come home. The dance ends at nine, so if I don’t hear from you by then, I’ll be there at eight-fifty-five.”

  “Yes, sir,” Chloe says, the obstinate child from just an hour ago long gone and replaced by an excited preteen. “Let’s go.”

  “I’ll see you later,” I say, but Tucker frowns.

  “Why don’t you go with us? I’ll take you somewhere to eat after we get rid of the munchkin.”

  “You’re gonna miss me,” Chloe says as she walks out the door to the car. Tucker grins, waiting for my answer.

  “Sure. I’d like that.”

  Tucker repeats the rules to Chloe again on the way to the school, and once she’s hurried out of the car to join her friends, he pulls away and smiles over at me.

  “Where would you like to go?”

  “Charlie’s,” I say immediately, my mouth already salivating at the thought of their chocolate shakes. “I haven’t been since I’ve been home.”

  “Charlie’s it is,” he replies.

  The place hasn’t changed. Red booths line the perimeter of the diner, and white tables and chrome chairs with red seats fill the middle. There’s a long soda counter with red stools, and two young girls in white aprons bustling behind it.

  Elvis plays on the jukebox, and we’re shown to a booth on the far side of the restaurant.

  “It’s just l
ike I remember it.”

  “Charlie’s doesn’t change,” Tucker agrees. “They did finally recover all the seats because the vinyl was splitting so bad people’s asses were getting cut.”

  “Well, that’s pleasant.” I set the menu aside, not even needing to look at it.

  “Thanks for helping with Chloe.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. I had fun. I reminded her to check her attitude.”

  He frowns and sits back, looking out at the parking lot.

  Oh, crap. This is what I was afraid of. “I’m sorry if I crossed a line. It’s really none of my business. You don’t need my input.”

  “No, I’m not mad. I appreciate the help. Chloe respects you.”

  I nod and smile at the young waitress when she walks up. Her eyes go wide when she sees that it’s me in the booth.

  “Hello, Miss Scarlett.”

  “Hello.”

  “This is Rachel Laramie’s daughter, Heather,” Tucker says.

  “Oh, hi,” I say with a bright smile. “How is your mama?”

  “She’s good. She’s working, as always.” Heather pulls out her pen and pad to take our order.

  “Well, please tell her I said hi.”

  “I will. We listen to your music all the time. What can I get you?”

  “Bacon cheeseburger with onion rings and a chocolate shake,” I say.

  “Times two,” Tucker adds. Heather writes down the order, nods, and hurries back behind the counter.

  “I didn’t know Rachel Laramie got married.”

  “She didn’t,” Tucker says with a shrug. “She works at the hospital as a nurse.”

  “Who’s Heather’s daddy?”

  “Rafe McKenna.”

  I feel my jaw drop. “Rafe McKenna, the science teacher?”

  Tucker nods. “I guess they had a thing going all through school. Rachel got pregnant in college, and when word got out, Rafe’s wife divorced him.”

  “Whoa. Rachel is like five years older than us, but how did I not hear about this?”

  “Why do you think?”

  I shrug. “Yeah, well. I hate town gossip. It’s one of the reasons I left. I don’t like listening to it, and I don’t like spreading it. I was the subject of it for far too long.”

  “I know.”

  Our food is delivered quickly, and I dig in, sighing in absolute delight at the familiar sensations on my tongue.

  “Smm mmmp.”

  Tucker laughs. “Say that in English.”

  “So good.” I take a drink of the shake and grin. “Best food in the world. And I’ve been all over the world, so I know.”

  “I won’t argue.”

  We eat in silence, both of us hungry. And when our plates are clean, we sit back, regretting our life decisions.

  “I ate too much.”

  “We should have split it,” I agree, but Tucker frowns at me.

  “Hell, no. I don’t share Charlie’s food.”

  “You’re so selfish.” I toss an onion ring at him, and he pops it into his mouth.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Tucker pays the bill, and we walk out to the car, but when he puts the key in the ignition, I stop him.

  “Can we talk for a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  “I know I said we’d never speak of it again, but I’m dying to ask some questions.”

  He sighs. “Okay. Ask.”

  “Why isn’t Valerie around?”

  “She didn’t want the baby,” he says flatly, not looking my way. “She wanted to give her up for adoption. I wanted to keep her. So, my dad drew up papers that she signed, stating I would have sole custody, and she gave up all parental rights.”

  Tucker’s father is a well-respected attorney in New Hope.

  “Her parents went along with that?”

  “They were ecstatic. We were nineteen, Scar. Val’s parents wanted her to wash her hands of it and move on with her life. So, she had Chloe, passed her to me, and never saw her again. Once she recovered, her parents moved them all out to New Mexico or Colorado or something. I haven’t heard from her since.”

  “She just walked away?”

  “Yeah.” He reaches over to cover my hand with his. “And I know that’s a sore subject for you.”

  “I don’t know which is better,” I admit. “Valerie leaving before Chloe could know her, or my mom leaving when I was eight.”

  “Neither way is good,” he says.

  “Well, I’m going to be really catty and admit that I’m glad she’s gone because I don’t like her, Tuck. She doesn’t deserve Chloe.”

  He laughs and brings my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

  “I know it makes me a bad person.”

  I also hate the thought of Tucker having sex with her. It’s irrational, but it’s there all the same.

  I could scratch Valerie’s eyes out for ever putting her skanky hands on him.

  “What are you thinking?” he says.

  “Horrible thoughts.”

  He raises a brow. “Like?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  I sigh. “I want to do bodily harm to Vicious Valerie for ever touching you. I’m not good at being jealous, Tucker, but I admit, I am, and I don’t like it.”

  “No?”

  “Not even a little.”

  “Interesting.” He leans over, drawing our faces closer together. “I wonder what we could possibly do to make you not think about that.”

  “I don’t know,” I whisper, watching his full lips as he licks them, imagining what they’d feel like. “What do you think?”

  Without answering, he cups my jawline in his big hand and presses his lips to mine. I’d swear the whole universe exploded.

  The kiss is soft and sweet. Not tentative. No, he knows what he’s doing, and he’s damn good at it. But it’s gentle, just like Tucker. Thorough. And just as I slide my hand up his firm chest to his face, a rhythmic beep echoes in the car.

  “Chloe,” he says as he pulls away from me, staring down at me with lust and regret swirling in his eyes.

  “You’d better see what she needs.”

  He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “She’s ready to come home.”

  “It’s only eight.”

  “That’s not a good sign.”

  9

  ~ Tucker ~

  “Chloe, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just drive.”

  “It’s not nothing if you’re crying.”

  She looks up, catching my eye in the rearview mirror. Her cheeks are tear-stained, the makeup she fought so hard for, long gone.

  “Did someone hurt you? Did someone touch you?” Kids are cruel these days. My blood boils at the thought of some punk doing something to my baby girl. “What’s the twerp’s name, I’ll—"

  “Tuck.” Scarlett rests a hand on my arm. “Let’s get her home.”

  Instinctively, I want to fix whatever the problem is now, but maybe Scarlett is right. “Yeah. Okay.”

  Chloe is silent the entire ride home, and as soon as we pull into the driveway, she darts into the house.

  I climb out of the car and, once again, Scarlett stops me.

  “Can I offer a piece of advice?”

  “Sure, but can you make it quick?”

  Scarlett smiles, and I try my hardest not to get sucked into her beautiful web because there’s someone else I need to concentrate on.

  “I know that you’re her daddy and you’ve spent the last eleven years protecting her and all you want to do is barge in there and demand to know what happened, but don’t. Please, don’t.”

  “To hell with that.”

  “Hear me out.” She takes a step forward. “Take it from someone who has been an eleven-year-old girl; the last thing you want to do is make her more upset than she already is. Then she really won’t tell you anything. What Chloe needs right now is for you to listen, even if that means understanding that she’s not r
eady to talk about whatever happened.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  Scarlett shrugs her shoulder. “You know more about this parenting business than I do. You’re her father, and I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.”

  “Where are you going?” I ask when Scarlett turns toward her house.

  “Home. I figured you wouldn’t want me around for something like this.”

  I should let her go. Chloe is already getting attached to Scarlett, and this is my opportunity to draw the line in the sand. But I like having Scarlett around just as much as my daughter does—if not more. I’ve missed Scarlett since the day she left, but I never knew quite how much until she returned.

  I don’t know what’s going to happen between us, but I know that this—whatever this is—feels right.

  I hold my hand out to her. “Stay.”

  Scarlett’s breath catches. She looks at my hand as though she’s not sure if it’ll burn her or be the answer to all of life’s questions, and then something flashes in her eyes, and she slips her palm into mine.

  Her skin is soft and warm, and I give her fingers a gentle squeeze, letting her know how much her staying means to me.

  “I’ve never had to do this,” I say as we walk into the house.

  “Sure, you have. This can’t be the first time Chloe has cried.”

  “Smartass.” I nudge her with my elbow. “This is different than a scraped knee or a broken toy. I always knew this day would come. This is big-girl stuff, and I don’t want to screw it up.”

  “You won’t.”

  Chloe’s bedroom door is open. She’s face-down on the bed, her head buried in a pillow. I let go of Scarlett’s hand and knock softly on the door before I step into the room.

  “Can I come in?”

  Watching your little girl cry because she’s hurt—not physically, but from life—is every dad’s worst nightmare. I’m a protector. I’m supposed to shield her from all of the bad things in the world, but I couldn’t shield her from this.

  Chloe’s shoulders jerk as she sobs into the pillow. I sit on the bed beside her and rest a hand on her back. When she was little, I used to cradle her in my lap. We’d snuggle, she’d talk about whatever was bothering her, and then I’d get her a glass of chocolate milk and a snack and all would be right in the world.