by Cindi Madsen
Using the arm he’d wrapped around her lower back he lifted her off her feet and squeezed tight enough to send her breath out over his shoulder. “I’m sorry for accidentally standing you up a few times. It’s stupid how hard it’s been to get away this past year.”
“That’s what happens when you decide to go and be some big city lawyer.” She pulled back to get another look at one of her best and very oldest friends. She had so much to tell him that she didn’t know where to start. Thanks to his crazy work schedule, even their phone calls and texts had slowed to a trickle. Despite working at the law firm for nearly two years, he was still one of the junior attorneys, which meant he ended up doing all the time-consuming research for the partners. Before that he’d been busy with law school, and while she wasn’t usually the mushy hugger-type, she didn’t want to completely let go, just in case she had to go another year without seeing him.
Only now that she was focusing on every single detail, from the familiar blue eyes to his strong, freshly-shaven jawline, to—holy crap, when did he get jacked shoulders and pecs and arms like that? Was lifting bulky legal files muscle-building. If so, maybe she needed to recommend it as part of her clients’ physical therapy regimens.
His gaze ran over her as well, most likely assessing the ways she’d changed—or more likely hadn’t—but for a quick second, her body got the wrong message, a swirl going through her stomach and her pulse quickening.
And before she thought better of it, she reached up and ran her hand through his hair, loosening the hold the gel had on it. He could definitely pull off the clean-cut lawyer look, but she preferred the more-relaxed version. Maybe that version would also help her keep from looking at him as something other than…well, him. Tucker Crawford. The boy who’d once landed her in detention because he’d dared her to put super glue on the teacher’s whiteboard makers while he distracted him with a question; boy who’d challenged her to a deviled egg eating competition at the town festival—to this day the sight or scent of a deviled egg made her stomach roll.
Tucker’s hand went to her hip, a shallow breath fell from her lips, and time froze…
“Crawford? Where you at?” Shep’s booming voice broke whatever weirdo vibes were trickling into the reunion she’d been awaiting for what seemed like forever, and she dropped her hand, just in time for Shep, Easton, and Ford to come around the corner to the deck of the boat.
“Murph!” They yelled when they saw her, and then they exchanged some high fives and a few bro-hugs on their way to give Tucker the same treatment. She saw the rest of the guys around town now and then, but it was harder to get together now that everyone had careers and other obligations, and they hadn’t hung out in way too long. Funny how in high school they couldn’t wait to get older so they could do whatever they wanted, and instead they ended up having less free time than ever.
Shep placed two six packs of beer on the desk railing. “Before we get this party started, I guess I should let you all know what we’re celebrating.” The hint of worry she’d felt since getting the urgent meeting text evaporated. The message had been so vague—typical guy, although her mom and sister had often accused her of the same thing.
Addie sat on the edge of the table, and when Tucker bumped her over with his hip, she scooted. Then the table wobbled, and Tucker’s hand shot out and wrapped around her upper arm as she worked to rebalance herself.
He chuckled. “Guess we’re heavier than we used to be.”
“Speak for yourself,” she said, shoving his arm, glad things were back to normal. With a hint of noticing the firm press of his shoulder and thigh and the warmth radiating off his body.
“So, you guys might recall I’ve been seeing Sexy Lexi, going on a year now.”
“How could we forget?” Addie quipped. “You talk about her non-stop.” She glanced at Tucker. “Seriously, we go to get a beer and it’s just Lexi this, and Lexi that.”
Shep didn’t scowl at her like she’d expected, grinning that twitterpated grin he now wore instead.
“She’s actually very lovely.” Addie curled her hands around the table. While his southern belle girlfriend worked to hold it at bay, she didn’t think Lexi was her biggest fan, and she hated always having to calm down her friendship with the guys in order to not upset the balance of their relationships. Hopefully a little more time and getting to know each other, and Lexi would understand that Will Shepherd was more like a brother than anything.
All of the guys were.
Tucker’s hand covered hers and he gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Okay, maybe she was questioning the past tense of that were the tiniest bit.
Crap, she didn’t know. But she could say for sure that she and Shep were more sibling-like than the rest. It wasn’t the first time her friends’ girlfriends were wary of her, and she doubted it’d be the last. Sometimes she worried she’d get left behind, just because she was a girl in a group of guys. That was a technicality, though. It wasn’t that she didn’t have female friends or that she didn’t know a lot of great women; it was that she’d grown up with these guys and forged memories and they liked to do the same things she did.
It was why she’d gone by “Murph” more often than Addison Murphy, or any other variation thereof. Thanks to her love of comfy, sporty clothes, she’d been voted “most likely to start her own sweatshirt line” in high school, a title she was proud to have, by the way.
Easton had been voted “most likely to end up in jail,” and ironically enough he was now a cop, something they all teased him about. Which reminded her…
“Don’t let me forget to make fun of your prissy car when this meeting is over with,” Addie whispered to Tucker.
He opened his mouth, assumedly to defend himself and then Shep cleared his throat.
“Anyway, last weekend I asked Lexi to marry me.” A huge grin spread across his face. “And she said yes.”
They offered their congratulations, and after a few claps on the back and obligatory jokes about ball and chains, Shep said, “I want you guys to be in my wedding. To be my groomsmen.”
Addie’s stomach dropped. “You guys” usually included her, but she knew the word “groomsmen” didn’t. “Ha! You guys are all gonna have to wear stuffy penguin suits and take hundreds of pictures. Have fun with that.”
Shep looked at her, and a sense of foreboding prickled her skin. “Before you go celebrating too much, you’re in the wedding party, too. I told Lexi that I wanted you as one of my groomsmen.”
While his girlfriend—make that fiancée—was pretty patient and understanding of Shep’s crazy, out-there ideas, she was also extremely girly. Like she wore dress and heels more often than not—including to the local bar, which wasn’t a dress-and-heels kind of joint—and belonged to one of those societies that threw things like tea parties and galas. “I’m sure that went over about as well as coming out as a vegan in the middle of Sunday dinner.”
“She understands that you’re just one of the guys,” Shep said, and a hint of hope rose up. She hated that lately she felt left out. Add to that the spinning-wheels sensation and her life needed a shakeup.
Maybe I should’ve taken that job. It would’ve meant moving over three hours away from Mom, Dad, and Nonna Hutchins, but she still wondered if she’d missed an opportunity. She’d witnessed the sorrow of her sister moving a state away. They’d been so upset, asking if they’d done something wrong, because how couldn’t you want to stay in Uncertainty, Alabama, where everyone knew everyone, and they all thought that entitled them to being all up in your business?
“But she’s also more traditional, her family even more so.”
“I understand,” Addie said. “I don’t think I’d look very good in a tux anyway, and my own mother would probably die twice over it.”
“Which is why…” Shep straightened, his hazel eyes on me. “Lexi and I came up with a compromise. You’ll be a groomsmen in name, and when it comes to all the usual pre-wedding stuff, but in order to be p
art of the wedding party you’re going to have to wear the same dress and shoes as the bridesmaids.” The rest of the words came out in a fast blur, like he hoped if he talked fast enough I might miss them. “And you might have to dress up one or two other times, like at the rehearsal dinner and maybe even the bridal shower.”
The guys burst out laughing. “Murph in a dress and heels,” Easton said. “That’ll be the day.”
Addie picked up the nearest object she could find—a coaster—and chucked it at his head. It bounced off but didn’t deter him from laughing.
The table shook, and when she looked at Tucker, he had a fist over his mouth to try to smother his laughter.
“You too?”
“Please, Addie,” Shep said. “I know it’s not your thing, but I can’t imagine you not being part of this.” He shot a challenging glare at the group of them. “And spare me the jokes about actually caring about my wedding. I never thought I’d be this happy, but I am, and I want you guys there. I need you guys with me on this.”
This time, the “you guys” definitely included her. Which made it that much easier to say, “I’m in. I’ll do whatever you need me to.”
…
Man it was good to be back in town, even if only for a quick weekend. Tucker had been working hours and hours on end, thinking that after putting in two years at the law firm he’d have enough experience and clout to slow down a little. It never slowed down, though, his work load multiplying at an impossible-to-keep-up-with pace. He’d had to cancel his last two trips home with lame, last-minute texts and calls, but now that he was seated around the poker table with his friends, all felt right with the world.
“You’re bluffing,” Addie said when Easton threw several chips into the pot. She matched his bet and then they laid down their cards, her full house easily beating his pair of Aces. “Read ‘em and weep, sucker.” She leaned over the table to gather her winnings, and Tucker’s gaze ran down the line of her body. Okay, so maybe one thing felt a little off, but it didn’t exactly feel not-right, even if he knew he should shut down all thoughts of Addie’s body and how amazing she looked.
He cracked a smile at the thought of her in a dress and heels, bouquet in hand. It wasn’t that they’d never seen her wear a dress; it was that she loathed them, and she’d once slugged him in the shoulder for even mentioning her dress-wearing at her sister’s wedding. The skirt had been long and baggy, and the real tragedy was that she couldn’t toss around the pigskin—her mom said it’d ruin her nice clothes, and then added that it was an “inappropriate wedding activity, anyway.” So then they’d both had to sit there with their hands folded in their laps and it was boring as hell, an emotion he’d rarely experienced around her.
“Your poker face is crap, Crawford. I know you’re thinking about how funny it is that I just agreed to wear a freaking bridesmaid’s dress, and if you don’t want me to jam that beer you’re drinking where the sun don’t shine, I suggest you wipe the smirk off your face.” She pointed her finger around the table. “That goes for all of you.”
“I appreciate you going along with it,” Shep said. “I told Lexi that you’d probably punch me or kick me in the balls just for suggesting it.”
“Lucky for you, you were too far away and wearing that love-struck grin that makes me take pity on you.”
“When someone basically says thank you, maybe don’t follow that up by insulting them.” Shep began dealing the cards he’d just finished shuffling. “Just a suggestion.”
“This is why so many guys in town are scared of you,” Easton said with a laugh.
She clucked her tongue. “They are not.”
All of the guys nodded, and Tucker found himself nodding even though he hadn’t lived in town for the better part of a decade. It’d been like that since high school, and the selfish part of him was glad that no guy had come in and swept her off her feet. Not that Addie would ever let some guy do the sweeping. Still, with her blond hair that was forever in a high ponytail and the smattering of freckles across her nose that drew you right to them and her big brown eyes, it was surprising she’d stayed mostly single. Or maybe she hadn’t told him about her boyfriends, the way he’d never really discussed his girlfriends with her. There weren’t many to talk about since he’d been so busy, but he also didn’t want anything to get in the way of getting back to them when they managed to find time to talk.
Ford pinned her with a look. “Addie, when guys come in for physical therapy, you tell them to stop crying over something your grandma could do.”
“Well, she could! My nonna is tougher than most of the dudes who come in whining about their injuries. Then they don’t want to put in the work it takes to get over them. Telling them my grandma could do the things I’m instructing them to do is motivating.”
“Not to ask you out,” Ford said, and snickers went around the table.
“Very funny. Being scared of me and being undateable are two different things.”
“You’re hardly undateable,” Tucker said, the words similar to exchanges they’d had in high school.
“Yeah, but it’s nearly impossible to find someone who doesn’t already know too much about me—or me about them—and even if I manage that, then I introduce him to you guys, and things unravel pretty quickly after that.”
“Maybe with one of us getting hitched, we’ll be less intimidating.” Shep tossed in the ante and everyone else did the same.
“I’m sure it’s me,” Addie muttered. “Now, do you guys want to talk about my pathetic dating life, or do you want me to take all your money?”
“Wow, what great options,” Tucker deadpanned. “Not sure why anyone would be scared of you. Couldn’t be all the threats.”
She turned those big eyes on him and cocked an eyebrow. “Listen, city boy. Maybe you can just flash your shiny car and some Benjamins to get your way where you live, but here we still live and die by the same code.”
He leaned in, challenge firing in his veins. “And that is…?”
“Loser buys beer.”
Shep revealed the flop and Tucker watched everyone’s faces for signs of what cards they had or were hoping for. They did a few more rounds of betting as more cards were revealed, and at the end it came down to him and Addie.
She called his bet and then proceeded to take the last of his chips.
They played until Addie had pretty much cleaned everyone out, then one by one they left, save the two of them.
“Are you staying at the boathouse tonight?” she asked as she gathered her keys off the table outside.
He wasn’t sure if she was offering him a place to crash or just curious. His parents had relocated shortly after he started law school, and he’d hated how uprooted he’d felt even though he didn’t technically live in Uncertainty anymore. He’d asked them to hold off on selling the boathouse, and when Dad claimed he couldn’t, Tucker bought it himself. Having to visit them in a different city made it that much harder to get back here, and he’d already seen repairs that would need to be made. “I like it out here on the lake, so I would prefer it even if my parents’ hadn’t sold their place.”
A smile curved her lips as she ran her hand over the deck railing. “I love this mini-house and all of our memories here.”
“Me, too.” He folded his forearms on the railing and looked over at her, watching the breeze stir the strands of hair. “Tonight was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
Her grin widened, and it lit up her whole face. The moon glowed off her features—pretty features he couldn’t help gazing at. Growing up with her had left him so used to how she looked that he’d forgotten how beautiful she was, and he didn’t really notice until he’d gone somewhere else and realized how unique she and the relationships they had was. No one else was like her. It was why she was one of his very best friends, and that meant stifling the urge to ask her to stay the night with him. He wanted to think it could be just like old times when they’d crash out on the couch or tiny bed.
“Good night, Tucker.” She turned to go, but then abruptly spun around and hugged him tight. “I understand that your job is demanding, but don’t be a stranger.”
He squeezed her back, taking a whiff of her shampoo—something fruity that smelled good and made him want to bury his nose in the silky strands, another sign that he was drunk and nostalgic, and he should definitely let her go now.
“At least with Shep getting married you’ve got another excuse to come down and spend more than a weekend here,” she said.
He nodded. “Yeah, it’s good to have an excuse.” What he wanted was an excuse not to go back to his cold, generic apartment and mind-numbing job.
What he wanted was to return to his friends and the town he loved, and he wasn’t sure how he could possibly go back and be satisfied with his old life after tonight showed him everything that was missing from it.
Acknowledgments
Since this book is all about football, I just have to say thank you to my parents and grandparents for making me a born and raised Broncos fan. I learned to yell at the TV from a very young age. Still haven’t quite learned how to get the players, coaches, and refs to listen, though… LOL
With every book, the people who always sacrifice and support me the most are the members of my family. To my husband and my kids, thank you for being so supportive, even if I switch books and plotlines partway through conversations without telling you.
To my wifeys, Gina L. Maxwell and Rebecca Yarros, you know I adore you. Thank you for always being there to talk plotlines and answer editing questions and to make me laugh when I need it most. I love our very structured Monday morning video meetings and how we can attend in our yoga pants. I don’t even have words for how grateful I am to have you both in my life.
