Always A Bridesmaid: A Whiskey Ridge Romance

by Rachel Hanna

  But Samantha needed him, and he was a sucker for a woman in need. He hated that part of himself. All they’d done since meeting was fight and argue and throw sarcastic comments around like a sexy game of dodgeball.

  And yet he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else right now.

  He just wanted to protect her heart from this jerk named Clark. That guy was something else. After breaking up with her, why did he seem so intent on making her feel bad about herself?

  Tucker decided not to pull at that string and instead focus on keeping the rhythm of the music. Right now he was thankful that his mother had forced him to take some ballroom dancing classes as a kid, although he was going to keep that little secret to himself.

  Was that her heartbeat he felt against his abdomen? If so, she was as nervous as he was.

  “You okay?” he asked. She tilted her head up, and immediately he regretted making her move.

  “I am,” she said, softer than he’d anticipated. She looked happy. Content. Peaceful. He hadn’t seen that look on her before. It was stunning.

  Tucker guided her head back to his chest and smiled before pressing his lips to the top of her head. He was going to regret this night. That much was sure.

  His lips were on her head. They were warm. For a moment, she wanted to quickly look up and meet them before he could pull away. He was acting, she kept reminding herself.

  Realizing her eyes had been closed, she opened them to see her sister smiling at her from across the dance floor. That knowing look that only sisters have made Samantha giggle.

  “What are you laughing at?” Tucker asked.

  Samantha looked up at him. He had the clearest blue eyes. Why hadn’t she noticed that before? “Katie was smiling at me.”

  Tucker shot a glance in Katie’s direction and chuckled. “I guess she’s getting a big kick out of this.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “So, where’s the adoring couple?” he asked as he looked around the dance floor. Clark and Monica were nowhere to be found.

  “I don’t know. Probably making out in a broom closet somewhere.”

  Tucker laughed. “Probably.”

  Samantha cleared her throat. “We don’t have to keep dancing if you don’t want to. I mean, you’re probably tired from all the acting.”

  He smiled. “Right. We can take a break, if you want.”

  Samantha didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t really want a break, but she also didn’t want to let her guard down. This was just a brief little acting job for Tucker, and she wasn’t about to make anything more of it.

  “Yeah. Let’s get some punch.”

  They walked to the punch table, and Tucker filled two cups for them. Samantha carefully took a sip, trying not to spill anything on her dress.

  “So, you’re here for another month, right?”

  “Yes. I promised to housesit for Katie and Rick. Of course, that was before I knew about Monica,” she said with a laugh. “Now I have to spend a lot more time at the house so I can dodge her.”

  “I bet she’ll just leave you alone once Clark goes back to whatever rock he crawled out from under.” Tucker gulped down his punch and refilled it.

  “Not a fan of Clark?”

  “Are you?”

  She laughed. “No. I used to be, a long time ago anyway.”

  “I don’t see the attraction. Ya’ll are nothing alike.”

  “Really? What do you mean?”

  “He’s a jerk, for one thing.”

  “I’m sure you thought I was a jerk for the last few days.”

  Tucker paused. “No. Not a jerk. Something else.”

  “What?”

  “You want to get some air?” he said, obviously changing the subject.

  “Sure.” She followed him to the door, which he opened for her being the Southern gentleman that he was.

  Thankfully, no one was outside so they took a seat on a bench under a gazebo.

  “So what did you think about me?” she asked again.

  “You don’t forget, do you?”

  “I’m an attorney. It’s my job to remember.”

  “And to question,” he said, chuckling.

  “Don’t deflect, Doctor Ellison.”

  “Okay. Fine. I thought at first that you were uptight. Snobby. Stuck up…”

  “Got it. You aren’t a fan.”

  “I wasn’t finished. Never interrupt a witness. Isn’t that a rule?”

  “Nope, not even close.”

  “Anyway, then I thought you were hurt.”

  “Hurt?” She was almost offended at the insinuation, yet she also knew he was dead-on correct.

  “I don’t know, Sam. I just felt this sense of hurt or abandonment or loneliness…”

  “I have a very full life in Atlanta, Tucker. I’m not lonely.” She wondered if her nose was growing. The lies she was telling on this trip were not good. But there was no way she was letting on at how lonely she really was. She wasn’t fessing up to the fact that she spent most nights working in her office eating Chinese take-out and watching everyone else live their lives through her large glass window overlooking the city.

  “I don’t doubt that. It was just a feeling I got.”

  “Well, not to worry. As soon as Katie and Rick get back from their honeymoon, I’ll be back home living my life and all of this crap with Clark and Monica will be a distant memory.”

  Tucker smiled. “Right. Well, I guess we’d better get back in there.”

  “Of course,” Samantha said. Why did she get the feeling that things had changed between them?

  It was very late, and Samantha could hardly keep her eyes open as Tucker drove them back toward the cabin. Night time in the Blue Ridge mountains was darker than any night in the city. The only thing she could see besides the headlights of the truck were the lightning bugs occasionally popping into view in the distance.

  “You still awake?” Tucker asked. Samantha looked at the time. It was almost two in the morning.

  “Barely.” She leaned her head against the cold glass window and closed her eyes.

  “That can’t be comfortable,” Tucker said, reaching over and gently pulling her head toward him. “I’m still your fake fiancé for the time being. Lay your head on my shoulder.”

  Samantha looked at him. “I’m fine. Really.”

  “Sam, humor me, okay? I’m afraid you’ll get a concussion if I hit a pothole.”

  She smiled wearily before a yawn escaped her lips. “Fine.” She laid her head down and that was all she remembered until the bumpiness of the gravel driveway woke her up.

  The truck came to a stop, and Tucker turned off the lights. Samantha sat up, rubbing her eyes and inadvertently knocking one of her fake eyelashes off.

  “Wow.”

  “What?” Tucker asked.

  “It’s so dark out here, but look at that moon. It’s just breathtaking. So bright.” She yanked off the other lash and stuffed them into her purse.

  “You’ve seen the moon before, right?” Tucker asked with a laugh.

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t look like this in the city. It’s just another light, mixed into all of the other distractions. It’s like it’s more beautiful here.”

  “I thought you loved the city?”

  Samantha cleared her throat. “Of course I do. It’s just different, that’s all.”

  Tucker opened the door and walked around the truck. He pulled her door open at the same time she was attempting to open it, and down she fell into his arms.

  “Shall I carry you over the threshold?” he asked with a nervous chuckle.

  Samantha cleared her throat again, something she did when emotions got too much for her. “I think we should leave that to the newlyweds.”

  But the newlyweds were already long gone. They’d left the venue a couple of hours ago and caught a flight to start their honeymoon.

  “Hey, Tucker?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mind putting me down now?”

 
He smiled. “Right. Sorry.”

  He slowly lowered her to the ground.

  “Well, thanks for being my pretend fiancé tonight.” She stepped back, unsure if she should shake his hand or what.

  “No problem. But I am walking you inside, Sam.”

  “There’s no need.”

  “It’s dark and deserted out here. I want to check the place out.”

  “Oh come on. It’s Whiskey Ridge!”

  “Things can happen anywhere, Sam. You’re an attorney. You know this.”

  He was right. And she hated that.

  “Fine. But then that’s it. I’m tired, and I want to go to bed.”

  “Trust me, so do I.”

  They stood there for another awkward moment before walking to the door. Samantha kicked off her heels as soon as they crossed the threshold.

  “Not a fan of heels?” Tucker asked, shutting the door behind them as Sam turned on the foyer light.

  “Actually, I wear them almost everyday at work.”

  “That’s not what I asked you.”

  She turned and pursed her lips. “I actually hate them.”

  Tucker laughed. “Then why do you wear them?”

  They made their way toward the kitchen as Samantha flipped on all of the lights. Sophie wiggled nervously in her large crate in the laundry room.

  “Come on, girl,” Samantha said as she opened the crate and then ran to the back door to let her out. “I wear them because that’s what’s expected of me in my line of work.”

  “People expect you to wear uncomfortable shoes?”

  They walked out onto the darkened deck, only the bright light of the moon giving a glow to the yard as Sophie ran around looking for the perfect place to do her business.

  “You ask the strangest questions, Tucker.”

  They sat down in the two log hewn chairs that overlooked the river below. “I’m just wondering why an intelligent woman would willingly wear something that hurt her feet just because other people expected it.”

  She thought for a moment. “Honestly, I have no idea. I just do.”

  “Hmm…”

  “Hmm?”

  “What other things do you do in your life because people expect it of you?”

  “Jeez, what is up with you? Why are you trying to psychoanalyze me all of the sudden?”

  Tucker leaned close to her ear, his breath trailing down her neck. “Because I find you fascinating, Samantha Ryan.”

  Suddenly, it was like everything in her body lit up in a way she had a hard time describing. Her palms felt sweaty, her heart raced. Speaking in front of judges and juries didn’t make her this nervous.

  “I’m really not all that exciting, Tucker,” she said, laughing nervously before standing up. “Come on, Sophie!”

  Unbeknownst to her, he followed closely behind her as she walked to the top of the deck stairs to call the dog. When she turned back, they were practically nose to nose. She felt frozen in place, as if her legs had lead weights attached to them.

  “Tucker,” she said softly, their mouths literally an inch apart.

  “Sam…”

  Sometimes in life, there are moments that feel like slow motion, and this was one of those times. The only problem was the slow motion was her falling backwards down the wooden stairs as Sophie bumped her from behind as she came up the stairs. Tucker tried to react, but he wasn’t quite fast enough and she found herself in a heap on the small concrete patio below.

  “Owww….” was the only sound she could muster as she laid on her side, bridesmaid dress askew, at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Oh my God! Sam, I’m so sorry. I was standing too close…”

  “I think I need to go to the ER,” Samantha said through the pain.

  “I’ll call the ambulance…”

  “No. Please. If you can get me to the truck, I’d rather go that way.”

  Tucker leaned crouched beside her. “What hurts?”

  “My side and my head.”

  “Did you hit your head?” he asked, rubbing his hand carefully around her head.

  “I don’t really know. But I think I may have cracked a rib or something.”

  Tucker carefully slid his arms under her as she moaned in pain. He carried her up the stairs and placed her carefully on the sofa so he could put Sophie back in her cage and lock up the house.

  Within minutes, he’d placed her in the truck and was speeding toward the only hospital in town.

  Tucker sat beside Samantha in the small room. They’d given her something for the pain while they waited for the doctor to come back in. She looked peaceful as she slept, but the ride over had been hard on her. He saw tears escaping her eyes a few times, and he never wanted to see that again.

  Something about this woman was driving him crazy. He wanted to know more about her. He wanted to help her. He wanted to spend every waking moment talking to her, and it was only getting worse. She didn’t feel the same way, and he was in no position to get his heart broken all over again.

  And yet he’d followed her so close to the edge of the stairs that he had basically caused her to fall when Sophie bumped her even slightly. He felt awful, and he didn’t know how he’d ever make things right with her.

  She stirred, so Tucker stood and walked over to her. The last thing he wanted was for her to wake up and think she was alone.

  “Where am I?” she asked groggily. It was after four in the morning, after all.

  “You’re in the emergency room, remember?”

  She looked around and rubbed her eyes. “Right. Ow.” She reached for her left side and winced.

  “Miss Ryan, you’re up. How do you feel?”

  “Bad.” She was definitely a blunt woman.

  “Well, you took quite a tumble. Cracked a rib or two, and you have a mild concussion.”

  “What do we do about my ribs?” she asked.

  “Not a whole lot other than rest…” Tucker started to say. The doctor eyed him before turning back to Samantha.

  “As your husband said, you’ll need some good rest.”

  “Oh, he’s not my husband,” she said quickly. “Just a… friend.”

  For some reason, Tucker felt let down by that. At least it was better than saying he was her acquaintance. Being friends wasn’t so bad, was it?

  “Anyway, you’ll need to be watched closely for at least twenty four hours. Your brain needs some time to recover. No TV and minimal activity for a few days. If you get any bad headaches, blurred vision… anything worrisome… you’ll need to come back and see me. Okay?”

  “But I’m housesitting for my sister. I have to take care of her dog…”

  “The same dog that knocked you down the stairs?”

  Samantha sighed. “Yes.”

  “You’ll need some help until you recover, ma’am. You don’t want to have a setback and end up back here, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I’m sure your friend here will be more than glad to help you recover. Am I right?” He looked at Tucker and smiled.

  “Right,” Tucker said, painting a smile on his face.

  With that, the doctor swiftly left the room, and Tucker looked at Samantha.

  “What am I going to do? I have to take care of Sophie for the next month, and I have big cases to work on when I get back…”

  Tucker took her hands. “I’m going to help you, Sam. It’s my fault, and I’m going to do everything I can to make it right.”

  “Your fault? What do you mean?”

  “I snuck up behind you and was too close and…”

  “Tucker, it was an accident. I don’t blame you.”

  “Well, I blame me.”

  “Maybe don’t say that to a lawyer,” she said with a half hearted smile.

  “Sue me if you must. I’d totally understand.”

  “I would sue Sophie before I’d sue you.”

  Tucker laughed. “Okay, then let’s blame Sophie.”

  Chapter 8

  It was a
lmost time for breakfast by the time they got back to the cabin. After picking up Samantha’s medicine, Tucker had run into the grocery store to pick up supplies for breakfast.

  “I’m carrying you,” he said, as he stood beside the truck door.

  “I can walk, Tucker. You don’t need to carry me.”

  “Stop being hardheaded.”

  “Fine, but you’re going to have a sore back and need medical assistance yourself.”

  “I’m willing to risk it.”

  He reached up and slid his arms under her as she put her arms around his neck. It felt good to be in his strong arms, something she didn’t like admitting even to herself.

  After getting her into bed, Tucker ran back to the truck for the groceries and then let Sophie out into the yard.

  “I’m going to start breakfast. Let me know if you need anything. And don’t worry, I’ll keep Sophie away from you.” He turned to go back up the hallway.

  “Tucker?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, Sam. It’s my fault.”

  She smiled. “I thought we were blaming the dog?”

  He laughed and then walked up the hallway. This was going to be a long few days.

  The smell of bacon woke Samantha out of her stupor. She didn’t know what drugs they’d given her at the hospital, but she needed them the next time insomnia hit her. She craned her head and looked at the small alarm clock on the nightstand. It was just after eight.

  She reached for her cell phone, but knocked it onto the floor, causing a loud noise. Suddenly, she heard metal crashing in the kitchen and hard footsteps approaching her room.

  “Are you okay?” Tucker asked when he reached the doorway, a look of concern on his face.

  Samantha giggled. “Yes. Sorry. I dropped my phone.”

  Tucker bent down and picked it up. “You don’t need this, Sam. You need rest.”

  “I need bacon, actually.”

  Tucker smiled. “You smell that, huh?”

  “It woke me up better than an alarm clock.”