She barely weighs anything but the small amount of her weight on my lap and her slight movements on my groin are enough to make my dick stand at attention.
When she bites her bottom lip it's more than I can take. I grab her ass and pull her into my growing erection.
This time, when I kiss her, it's hard and fast. As much as I want to take things slowly and savor each moment, our mouths and bodies seem to have other plans. It's like we're both starving for each other.
"I want to be with you," she whispers into my ear.
It takes a moment for her words to register and for me to remember my leg. I look into her eyes and slowly shake my head.
She looks puzzled. "Why?"
I don't know what to say. Not that any words will come out of my throat. It feels like it's completely closed up.
She's looks down at my sweatpants as if she’s thinking about something. When she tilts her head back up at me it’s as if a light bulb has gone off. "Your leg?"
I feel like I've been punched in the gut when those two small words come out of her mouth. My leg. My goddamn fucking leg.
It's the reason I haven't been with anyone since Iraq. It's the reason I'll never be with a woman. It's the reason I'll never get to be with Gracie.
She places her hand on my chest again. She's looking at me with so much tenderness, I can barely breath. No one has ever looked at me with so much compassion before.
"I don't care about your leg."
I hold my breath as she moves her hand under my T-shirt and touches my bare skin. Then to my surprise, she grabs the ends of my shirt and starts to pull it up. I hesitate for just a moment but she's persistent and continues to tug until I relent and lift my arms.
Before I know it my shirt is on the floor and I’m bare chested before her.
Her eyes narrow just a bit as she inspects all of my tattoos. I’ve got fifteen of them, so it’s quite a bit of an inspection. “I hope you’ll tell me about these someday.”
“Someday,” I reply. Definitely not today.
She moves her hands to my shoulders and takes her time touching and caressing them. As she makes her way down my abs, she begins to move her hips over my erection. There's nothing between us but the thin material of her cotton panties and my sweat pants.
I close my eyes for a moment and image what it would feel like to be inside of her as she continues to ride me with our clothes on.
She has a knack of making me feel like a teenager and this is no exception. I feel like we're two kids dry humping in the basement while her parents are upstairs watching television.
As she continues moving herself over my hard-on, I'm almost ready to explode. "You'd better stop," I warn.
She gives me a sly smile then places her lips on mine and kisses me. As she continues kissing me, she continues to ride me despite my half-hearted protests.
It doesn't take very much more movement for me to completely lose it. I let out a low moan and pull her into me as close as possible with our clothes still on.
"Did that feel good?" She asks as she places her hand on my cheek.
"It felt great," I admit. "I wish..."
"I know," she says. "I wish, too."
Does she really have any idea how much I want to be with her? Does she have any idea how badly I wish I was normal? That I didn’t have a body that would make her run away at the sight of it? She deserves so much better than to be with half of a man. And that's all I’ll ever be.
We fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. I’m in my sweatpants and she’s in her T-shirt. If things were different. If I was different. We’d both be naked, enjoying each other’s bodies. But things aren’t different and I know I have to settle for what I can get. Gracie’s still here, still in my bed, and for another night, I enjoy it while it lasts.
Six
Gracie
The Social Security Office is packed. “We don't have to wait,” I say. “We can come back another time.”
Tucker grabs my hand and pulls me into the crowd. “We’re getting your Social Security Card.”
If only it was that easy. After what seems like a forever wait, my number is finally called but the older woman working with us won’t budge.
“I’ll need to see some form of Identification. A Driver’s license, Passport or Birth certificate.”
Tucker narrows his eyes at the woman. “I told you she doesn’t drive and she doesn’t have access to her birth certificate.”
The woman shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“How about something helpful?” Tucker replies through clenched teeth.
When the woman looks over at me, I try to give her a pathetic look. It isn’t hard because I feel pretty pathetic. How many people don’t have access to any kinds of identification?
The woman finally decides to take pity on me because she leans close to me and Tucker and whispers. “You didn’t hear this from me. But I had a similar case a few years back and the woman was able to get one of her old guidance counselors from high school to give her a copy of her birth certificate that the school had on file.”
“Thanks,” I whisper back to the woman.
As Tucker and I head back to his truck, I remind him that I didn’t go to high school in New Jersey. “I left the state when I was twelve.”
“What about your old elementary school?” Tucker asks. “Where did you go?”
“We moved around a lot,” I admit. “I never went to the same school more than a couple of years. And they’re all pretty far from here. In the city.”
“Was there one teacher or guidance counselor who you think might remember you?”
I rack my brain trying to remember the childhood I tried so hard to forget.
“The year I got the scar. Right before I went to live with my dad. I spent a lot of time in the school guidance office. The counselor’s name was Ms. Watson. She would probably remember me more than any of the other ones.”
“Then let’s go.”
I grab Tucker’s elbow. “It’s pretty far from here and I’m not even sure she’ll remember me.”
He narrows his gaze at me. “We’re going.”
“Okay,” I agree.
***
The school hasn’t changed very much and neither has Ms. Watson. She’s still got the long blonde hair that I remember so well because it reminded me so much of my own hair.
“Gracie Parker.” Ms. Watson’s lovely blue eyes sparkle with recognition. “So good to see you.”
She waves both me and Tucker into her small office. There are still piles of books all over the desk and even the floor. They may even be the same books that were piled there when I was a kid. It made an impression on me as a child. I thought Ms. Watson must be smart because she had so many books. And I thought I must be stupid because I never owned one.
“And you are?” Ms. Watson’s attention is on Tucker. She’s looking at him curiously. Like she’s studying him.
“Tucker Wilde.” He’s more guarded than he usually is and it makes me wonder if he doesn’t like counselors very much.
“Iraq?” Ms. Watson asks.
Tucker seems to let his guard down just a bit.
“Is it that obvious?”
“My brother served. Two tours. You remind me a lot of him.”
Tucker nods.
“How can I help you?” Ms. Watson asks.
I explain the situation.
“Your mother’s still in prison?” Ms. Watson’s face holds so much warmth. I remember how much I wished I could have a mother who was more like Ms. Watson. She always seemed to care more about me than my mom ever did.
I nod. “Twenty year sentence.”
“I’ll have to have a talk with the principal but I don’t think it will be a problem under the circumstances.”
Tucker and I wait in Ms. Watson’s office while she goes to speak with the principal.
He takes my hand in his and gives it a squeeze. “You okay?”
I nod.
“I kn
ow this probably isn’t easy. Being back here.”
“It’s easier with you here. Thanks.”
“Anything for you.”
Tucker is looking at me with such resolve, I know he means it. He would do anything for me. But do I want him to? Do I even deserve it?
When Ms. Watson returns, she carrying a manila envelope, which she hands to me. “I made a few copies for you. Keep them in a safe place.”
“Thank you,” I say gratefully as Tucker and I both stand.
“If you need anything else, just let me know.”
***
On the drive back to Old Town, Tucker is quiet. I hope he’s not getting tired of driving me practically all over the state. I don’t want to be a burden on anyone, but especially Tucker. He’s too good a person and I don’t want him to feel like I’m taking advantage of him.
“Thank you for everything.”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me.”
“I just want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”
“I know,” he says matter-of-factly.
After a few more moments of silence he says, “After we get your social security card and open a bank account, I’ve got to get to band practice. The Wilde Riders are playing at the bar tonight. Would you like to come to practice with me?”
I can’t help but smile. “I’d love to.”
“Good,” he says. When I glance over at Tucker, I notice he’s smiling, too.
***
“This is Cooper.” Tucker points to an attractive guy with dark hair and eyes. “He lives in New York.”
Cooper looks at me intently before he puts out a hand. It’s like he’s studying me. It makes me a little uncomfortable. When Tucker looks at me with that type of intensity, I know it’s because he wants to know who I am. But when Cooper does it, it feels more like he’s judging me.
Unlike his brothers, who seem to always be wearing jeans and cowboy boots, Cooper is wearing Khakis and a polo shirt. He looks more like a golfer than a member of a country band.
When he finally takes my hand and shakes it, he gives me a quick, almost imperceptible, smile. He’s definitely the most serious of the Wilde brothers.
“You’ll meet Riley later,” Cooper says. “She’s driving in this evening. She had a tough day at work.”
I can see him sneak a glance at Tucker. Tucker returns the gesture with an icy stare. I hope the exchange between the two doesn’t have anything to do with me, but I fear that it might. The brothers seem to be protective of each other and competitive with each other at the same time.
I heave a small sigh. I haven’t seen my brother in nearly ten years. With Dad dead and Mom in prison, he’s the only family I’ve got. Maybe someday Tucker can help me find him. I’d like the chance to reconnect. Maybe even have a relationship with him. But I have no idea where to even begin to look for him.
The bar is nearly empty except for a few guys at a corner table having lunch. Harley is waiting on them. I haven’t gotten the chance to work with her yet and I’m a little nervous about it. She comes across as very self-confident and I have a feeling she’s the type of person who says what’s on her mind. I just hope what’s on her mind isn’t something negative about me.
Cooper and Tucker both grab guitars and climb on stage. Hunter takes a seat behind the drums and Jake joins them holding some sheet music.
Jake is talking to his brothers and pointing to the music. I’m too far from the stage to hear exactly what he’s saying. Not that I know much about music anyway.
“You can sit down,” I hear a female voice say behind me.
When I turn around, Harley is standing right behind me.
I shrug. “I don’t mind standing.”
“So I heard you’re working here now.”
I guess news like that travels fast. I nod.
Harley gives me the once over. She doesn’t even try to make it less obvious.
“You’ll have to wear something a lot sexier than that if you expect to make any money on tips.”
I swallow—hard. Although we haven’t discussed it, I have a feeling that Tucker wouldn’t want me dressing sexy for tips. Not that there’s anything really sexy about me anyway. I definitely don’t look anything like Harley. She could easily be on the front cover a magazine. Not only is she wearing the most amazing pink cowboy boots I have ever seen, she’s got on an outfit that’s so tight and so revealing it leaves little to the imagination. And she’s got a lot in both the hood and the trunk worth showing off.
Even if I wore an outfit like hers I don’t have much to show off. Both my hood and trunk are a little on the skinny side.
Harley eyes me suspiciously. “You and Tucker aren’t hooking up, are you?”
I can feel my face heat up and I’m sure I’m turning bright red with embarrassment. I’m not sure what to say but I guess I don’t need to worry about it because she just continues talking.
“I’m not surprised. He’s been messed up since he got back from Iraq. He never hooks up with anyone.”
I swallow again. It’s hard for me to believe that a guy who’s as good looking as Tucker doesn’t have girls waiting in line. He’s a lot better looking than most of Dex’s friends and they all get their share of girls.
“He seems to really like you though.” The way she says it isn’t a compliment. It’s almost as if she’d like to add that she’s not sure why he likes me.
It’s becoming pretty obvious that I’ll need to prove myself not only to Tucker’s brothers but to Harley as well. Not that I blame them. They seem to really care about him and I’m sure they don’t want to see him get hurt. And I did just suddenly appear in his life. They have every reason to be suspicious of me.
Harley and I both look over at the stage when the guys start to play the beginning of a song. It’s the one Tucker sang for me. This time, Jake is singing. Jake’s got a great voice. I can tell right away that he’s a performer; he’s very charismatic. But I like the way Tucker sang it better. It was more raw and soulful.
The guys play the intros to a few more country songs. They’re more upbeat, good for dancing. I can almost imagine what it will be like when the bar is crowded and the patrons all jump to their feet to get on the dance floor.
“They’re good, aren’t they?” Harley comments.
“Really good.”
I can see she’s staring at Jake. She’s got so much sadness in her eyes it almost takes my breath away.
“Do you love him?” I ask. I know I’m probably being too forward but she didn’t hold back much with me.
“Who?” She replies almost too casually. We both know who I’m talking about.
“I can see the way you’re looking at him.”
When she turns to face me, her eyes are narrowed and she looks ready to attack. “He’s a player. The only thing he cares about is getting laid. Any girl who’s willing, he’s more than happy to give a ride.”
Her tone is so bitter, it almost scares me.
“I’ve moved on,” she adds almost as a side note.
She may think she’s moved on but it’s pretty obvious she still has deep feelings for the guy. I’m not sure why if he’s the jerk she says he is.
The guys go through several more songs, working out a few kinks, until they sound almost as good as a professional band. I’m really impressed. I can see why Tucker says they’re so popular in town.
When they finish rehearsing Tucker hops down from the stage and hurries over to me.
“So? What did you think?” He’s wide-eyed with anticipation.
I’d like to tease him a little bit but I can’t contain my grin. “You guys were great.”
He places a soft kiss on my lips. “I’m glad you think so.”
Harley glares at us. “I hope the new girl can keep up tonight.”
Tucker glares right back at her. “Her name is Gracie. I expect you to use it.”
A quick wave of fear seems to shoot through Harley’s eyes
but just as quickly it’s gone. Tucker has a way of intimidating people that he seems to use with everyone but me. He seems to like to give people the impression he’s tough and mean. That he’d just as soon snap their necks as look at them. Even if it’s not true and he’d never hurt a fly.
But with me, he’s the opposite. It’s like he goes out of his way not to scare me. He’s gentle and kind. I think that what he shows me is the real Tucker. But he keeps that person hidden from almost everyone else. Even his brothers.
Harley puts her hands on her hips. “I hope Gracie can keep up tonight. I have a feeling we’ll be packed.”
This time she doesn’t wait for a response. She turns on her boot heels and stomps away.
***
Harley wasn’t exaggerating. Haymakers is packed. It’s almost a struggle to keep up with everyone who wants drinks. Just as I finish serving a table of older guys that look like grandpas, I catch a glimpse of Harley pointing at me. She talking to a beautiful dark haired woman who looks a little older, probably mid-twenties, and they’re both gawking at me.
When the dark haired woman makes her way over to me, I take in a deep breath. She’s so focused and serious, it kind of scares me a little bit.
“You must be Gracie,” the woman says as she puts out a hand for me to shake.
I gulp but manage to take her hand.
She has a firm grip and looks me right in the eye as she speaks. “I’m Riley. Cooper’s fiancée.”
She laughs and her face lights up. “It’s taking some getting used to. The word fiancée. I never really thought about being anyone’s fiancée until I met Cooper.”
I can see the attraction between them. They’re both powerful people. Both serious and obviously driven. And both very good looking. If Riley was a bit taller, she could probably be a model.
We both stand there for a few moments staring at each other. I’m not sure what to say. I’m quiet by nature but Riley is also a bit intimidating.
“Tucker almost seems like a different person,” she says. “I’ve never seen him smile so much. You must really make him happy.”
“He’s the one who’s been doing so much for me.” How could I possibly be making him happy?
“Well, whatever you’ve been doing, keep doing it.”
The Wilde One (Old Town Country Romance) Page 8
