by Holly Jaymes
“I’m home working with Mason to make that happen.” He rolled his shoulder. His gaze then moved to me. “Emma,” he said, his voice tight.
I managed a smile. “Tucker.”
“You’re not married, are you, Tucker?” Mrs. Minor asked.
I snorted and turned away when Tucker glared at me.
“No, ma’am.”
“See, Emma? Here’s another option,” Mary said.
“Hey, what about me?” Wyatt said jokingly.
Tucker slapped Wyatt on the back. “Wyatt here is probably a better choice for Emma. Isn’t that right, Em?”
He knew I hated being called Em.
“I don’t recall the grocery store having a sale on potential mates,” I said, hoping my voice sounded light.
“That’s the cue to stop the match making, Mary,” Harry said.
“I’ve got a date,” Tucker said, his dark gaze holding mine. “I should get going.”
“Oh, well, I guess you’re stuck with Wyatt,” Mary said.
Wyatt laughed.
“It was nice seeing you, Mr. and Mrs. Minor,” Tucker said, taking his basket of items to the checkout.
“Hell of a hit that kid took,” Harry said as he watched Tucker stride off. “And I’m not just talking about the separated shoulder.”
Wyatt watched him too. “Can’t be easy to watch your backup take your job.”
So that was a real possibility? “Can’t he just take it back?”
“I’m sure that’s why he’s here,” Wyatt said. “But it’s more than the physical. He needs to get his head in the game. Mason will be the best to restore his confidence.”
I snorted. “One thing Tucker doesn’t lack is confidence.”
“I think you’re right, Wyatt,” Harry said. “He could be one of the greats, if he can get his focus back.”
“Listen, I have to run, but it was good seeing you, Mr. and Mrs. Minor,” Wyatt said. “Emma, I’ll see you around.”
“Bye, Wyatt,” I said.
We checked out and got into the car to head back to the resort.
“I’m putting Tucker on my island,” Mary said.
“I thought Brad Pitt was on your island,” Harry said from the back.
“What island?” I asked, turning my blinker on and slowing down to make the turn on the road that would take us to the east side of the lake.
“You know how the young people have an island where they have their celebrity crush? Our grand-daughter told us about it,” Mary said.
I had no clue what she was talking about, but I had a long history of not being aware of pop culture and trends.
“Who’s on your island?” I asked Harry, surprised they’d play such a game.
“The Latina lady from Modern Family.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know who that is?”
“Don’t you watch TV?” Mary asked. “Sofia Vergara is her name. She is very pretty.”
“And built,” Harry said from the back seat.
“No. I didn’t grow up watching TV and never got into the habit.”
“Well, she’s very pretty,” Mary said.
“Why would you have Tucker?” I asked. I had seen a few movies so I did know who Brad Pitt was. I also knew that along with being handsome, he was involved in social causes. Tucker’s only social cause was partying.
“Did you look at him?” Mary gaped at me. “He’s built like a tank.”
“So, your island has sexy people? Does character matter?”
“I believe the game is about sexual attraction, right, Harry?” Mary said.
“Yes. Although they can have a talent. I think Sarah, she’s our grand-daughter, had one of those home show men on her list so he could build her shelter.”
“So, Tucker is just about looks?”
“Oh no. Tucker may be a little full of himself and sowing his oats, but he’s a sweet boy and handy around the house, isn’t he, Harry?”
“Yep.”
“He used to do a lot of work for us during the summers. He always went above and beyond. Remember when he organized a mini-summer Olympics at the resort? The kids that summer idolized him. What was Tucker then…thirteen? Fourteen?”
“Something like that. You could tell, even back then, that he’d be a big athletic star. Fast. Strong. Charisma,” Harry said.
I gripped the wheel, as once again I was having to accept that Tucker wasn’t a total douche bag. Of course, people weren’t all bad or good, but seeing kindness and caring in Tucker was unsafe for me. My hormones clearly thought like Mary did; Tucker was a specimen of a man. But I’d been with someone like him before and it was painful and ego-crushing to realize I wasn’t someone special. I’d learned that my mother and grandmother were right all those times that they said men couldn’t be trusted or counted on.
Chapter 7: The End of My Career
Tucker
My weekend sucked starting the minute Mason interrupted my fantastic kiss with Emma.
When I first leaned in to kiss Emma Saturday night at Willa’s birthday party, I was prepared for her to bite my lip or punch me. But she didn’t. She wasn’t surprised or even resistant. Nope. She pulled me closer and parted her lips to let me in. And holy Christ, was it glorious. She tasted just like I’d have imagined - earthy with a mix of spice. I was drunk on it.
Her body pressed to mine was sweet heaven. Lush tits I desperately wanted to suck. Round hips perfect for gripping while thrusting. I’d never had any trouble getting it up with women, but I couldn’t remember ever feeling like my dick was so hard that it could bust. I actually looked down when Mason stopped us to check to see if the head was sticking out of my waistband. That’s how hard it felt.
But from that moment on, things went careening downhill. First, Mason suggested I was forcing myself on her by asking her if she was okay. I might have a reputation as a ladies’ man, but I never, ever, touched a woman who didn’t want me to touch her.
Then she ran off. Just like that. She didn’t even say goodbye. What the fuck was that all about? She was as into that kiss as I was. I wanted to go after her, but Mason stopped me.
“Let her go, man,” he said, grabbing my upper arm to keep me from passing him.
“What’s your problem?” I snapped, yanking my arm from his grip.
“No women, remember?”
“It’s not like that.”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s not? What’s it like then if you’re not just after a quick fuck?”
I didn’t know what it was except that it wasn’t just a quick fuck. “You’re the one touting about the love of a good woman.”
“Are you saying you love her?” He arched a brow, letting me know he was being sarcastic.
“No. I just…” I didn’t know how to explain the pull she had on me.
“Keep it in your pants, Tuck. That’s why you’re here. Emma is a good woman. She’s not the one-and-done type.”
“I know.”
For a moment, we just glared at each other.
“I hear there’s cake,” Willa said from the doorway to the house. Her gaze darted from me to Mason like she could tell something was up.
“And presents,” Mason said, finally turning away from me. He kissed his wife and with his arm around her, guided her back into the house.
I stayed at the party for Willa. She opened presents, including one from Mason that clearly Emma had made for him. It was a painting of a waterfall probably from around here. The way Willa’s eyes turned all lovey suggested it was a private spot for them. I hated that he got to have all that and was stopping me. Why couldn’t I have a private spot with a good woman?
In the back of my brain, a voice said that I wasn’t the type. I was a partier and playboy. Hadn’t I already said I couldn’t imagine being with one woman for any length of time?
When I could leave without raising eyebrows, I headed home. On Sunday, I swam to give my legs a break from running. It was a total body workout that also helped with shoulder strength and
mobility, along with physical endurance, which I needed. I thought about going to get a smoothie, but then worried that I’d run into Emma.
I wanted to see her. I wanted to kiss her and take things to the next logical step. I’d dreamed about it. I woke Sunday morning with a raging hard on that I couldn’t get rid of until I’d jerked off imagining her delicious lips wrapped around my dick.
But I knew I couldn’t kiss her again. I couldn’t touch her, even if she wanted me to. Not because Mason told me I couldn’t. And not because of the no-women rule. It was because she wasn’t a one-and-out fling. Or a short affair type woman, and that was all I could offer if I chose to break the rule. I lived near Los Angeles. I travelled a lot during football season. She had a life here in Eden Lake. No, it was better to keep my distance.
So instead of going to Paradise Java for a smoothie, I headed to the grocery store to buy smoothie ingredients. Clearly Cupid was a sadist, because not only did I run into Emma, but I happened upon her while she was agreeing to marry Wyatt. What made it worse was that while I hated him at that moment, I knew he was a better option for her. In fact, I wondered why they weren’t a thing already. They were both single attractive people.
The only bright spot in that outing was seeing Mr. and Mrs. Minor. I was glad to see they were still able to get out and about.
I left the store, heading home to make my smoothie. I drank it on the balcony of my condo. I was normally a happy-go-lucky guy, but the rest of the day I was in a grumpy funk. It wasn’t sexual frustration but something else. A different sort of agitation that I couldn’t shake. I blamed both Emma and Mason for it.
I woke Monday morning, ready to focus on my training. I’d stay away from Emma altogether so I wouldn’t be tempted. I’m sure she’d be pleased to hear that, as she clearly still didn’t think I was worthy of her attention.
As the week progressed, I was glad that Mason didn’t bring her up. Instead, we worked out and I let him tell me stories about dealing with Willa’s parents, who still had a hard time letting go of the century long feud between our families.
When I wasn’t with him, I was working out on my own. While the summer tourist season still hadn’t started, I was seeing more and more people on my runs. Some recognized me and would stop me for an autograph or selfie. Other times, they were just in the way. When Saturday arrived and I knew I needed a long run, I looked over the Google map of Eden Lake trying to find a location that I could run without interruption or obstacles.
I saw Pine Rest Resort and remembered seeing Mr. and Mrs. Minor at the grocery store the weekend before. I wondered what Emma had been doing with them, or maybe she just ran into them like I’d run into the group of them. What I did know was that even during the season, Pine Rest was fairly empty. The once popular resort was now like a ghost town since all the fancier places had gone up.
It was a shame really. I remembered doing odd-jobs for the Minors during summers and how fun it was there. They’d rope off part of the lake for swimming and had canoes and paddle boats. If the weather was bad, they had a large lodge with pool and foosball tables, a couple pinball machines, and a sitting area with books and couches. There was a kitchen where they used to serve breakfast and dinners, and sometimes they’d have dances at night with a live band.
While it was sad that the resort wasn’t in demand, the extensive dirt roads and trails through the area and its butting up against national forest made it ideal for running without worrying about bumping into other people.
I drove out to the resort, but parked up the road at a lookout point. I hoofed it to a fire road on national park land and started my run. It was still early in the morning so that the sun’s rays hadn’t made it across the entire lake yet. I ran along the fire road overlooking the resort and lake, admiring the mist that was dissipating as the rising sun’s rays burned it off.
I made it down to a deer trail that hit a road on the most northern side of the resort. I ran along the road as it sloped down toward the lake in front of me. On one side were woods, and the other, large rocks rising up. I considered stopping to climb them as I had as a kid, but knew I needed to keep running. I reached the bottom of the hill, and took the sharp left turn around the rocks that would take me south along the lake.
I’d just come around the corner and had a nanosecond to register that something was in the path before I hit it, hard. I heard a cry that sounded like it came from a woman. I gripped the form in my arms as momentum propelled me forward. I realized immediately that I wasn’t going to prevent a fall. I twisted my body, maneuvering us so that I’d land first with the woman on top of me.
My right shoulder hit rocks and dirt first and a shock of pain shot through me as I skidded along the dirt and rocks. Then my back struck against the ground, something sharp jabbing into me. The air in my lungs whooshed out as the woman’s full force hit me. Finally, my head bounced making my brain rattle.
The woman quickly got up, but I lay there for a moment. It was clear to me that something wasn’t right. I couldn’t seem to pull in my breath. Of course, this wasn’t the first time I’d had the breath knocked out of me. I knew I just needed to wait a moment for the ability to inhale to return. As I lay there, I was aware of yelling.
I managed to turn my head enough to see Emma standing over me, her hands fisted at her sides as she hurled angry words I couldn’t process. I closed my eyes, focusing on figuring out how hurt I was. Aside from whatever I’d landed on that was poking into my back, my shoulder felt like someone had put a hot poker in the joint.
As Emma continued her tirade, all I could think about was how I’d been trying to act right, and yet, if the shoulder pain was any indication, I could kiss my starting quarterback position goodbye. At least for the foreseeable future.
Chapter 8: The Run In
Emma
The first part of the week, I lived in fear of running into Tucker again like I did at the grocery store. The man was wreaking havoc on me. How could I disdain him and have the hots for him at the same time was beyond me. Fortunately, by the end of the week, when he hadn’t been in Paradise Java, nor had I seen him on any of my other outings, I started to relax. I’d even talked myself out of being mad that he hadn’t tried to stop me at Willa’s party or hunted me down later.
Instead, I reminded myself that I had just been convenient to him and that it was a good thing he wasn’t interested in me. He’d gotten his kiss and either that was all he needed or it wasn’t enough to make him want more. If I wasn’t good enough, then good riddance, right? After all, didn’t he say he had a date when I ran into him at the grocery store? As my brain had this battle with itself over Tucker, I realized just how crazy I was becoming.
I woke early Saturday wanting to paint the lake as the sun rays crept across it. I lugged my canvas, an easel, and my art supplies to the path behind my cabin and walked the hundred yards or so until I reached the rocks where the path turned away from the lake. That put me on the north eastern side of the lake, a great vantage point to watch the sun’s path as it lit the lake east to west.
I was thrilled as I watched the sun burn away the mist. What a contrast of texture and color, light and dark. I set up the easel in the middle of the path that offered the most stability. I was on the very edge of the resort property and no one ever came out this far, even during the summer.
I heard movement around the corner and had a moment to wonder if a bear or some other wild creature was out and about.
I stood back from the easel to listen when a man came barreling round the corner. He slammed into me and I cried out. His arms grabbed me and we twisted around until I was falling forward and landing on him with a hard thump.
I looked down on the man I was intimately splayed on top of. Tucker!
I couldn’t scramble off of him fast enough as my fear morphed into anger.
“What the hell is wrong with you!?!” I shouted. “Is this some lame attempt to cop a feel?” I stood over him, letting out all the rage and frust
ration I’d felt since the day he walked into Paradise Java. No, actually since the day I met him at Mason and Willa’s wedding.
After a moment though, I realized he wasn’t moving. He looked a little dazed and then he closed his eyes. Oh God! Was he dead?
I rushed to him and dropped down next to him. “Tucker. Tucker?”
I shook him and he yelled out. “Don’t touch me!”
I jerked my hands back, angry that he’d yell at me. I yanked my art bag out from under his back.
“Ah fuck, that hurts,” he growled.
“What hurts?” I wanted to leave him there in his misery, unless he really was seriously hurt. I didn’t want that.
His left hand went to his chest and he sucked in a breath and then slowly sat up. The back of his shoulders and tank top were covered with dust and dirt. I looked closer and saw road rash on his right side, with small rocks and dirt sticking to him mixed with blood.
“You’re hurt,” I said, reaching out to check.
“Don’t. Touch. Me.” He ground out.
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m trying to help you, you moron. Who goes running around a blind corner like that?”
He looked at my easel, now tipped on its side from ramming into it. He slanted his glare at me. “Who paints in the middle of a path?”
He had a point I suppose. “No one comes out here.”
“Right,” he said in a way that suggested he’d been thinking the same thing when he chose this spot for his run. Then he turned away and looked at his right shoulder. It lifted slightly, but then he winced. “Fuck.” He dropped his head down.
I remembered that he’d been hurt. Didn’t Mr. Mason say something about a separated shoulder? Was that the injury he’d had?
“Do you want me to call 9-1-1?” I asked.
“No. I want you to leave me alone.”
I jerked back. Everyone always said Tucker was a sweet, lovable guy. If only they could see him now. Then again, he was hurt. I supposed I should cut him some slack.
