Obviously he doesn’t actually know what I was going to say, or he would care. A whole lot. “You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
“I definitely do,” he looks from side to side. “But I think maybe we should discuss this somewhere a little more private.”
I look him up and down, not positive I want to invite a stranger into my apartment. Especially not with Birdie here.
Tucker seems to notice my hesitation, because he leans closer, not quite invading my space, but almost. He lowers his voice, eyes locked onto mine when he says, “I know what I’m talking about, Ruth.”
Oh shit. I think he does. The look on his face is weirdly easy to decipher.
Which begs the question…
“Then why are you here?”
If he genuinely knows I was trying to extort him, showing up on my doorsteps with flowers and toys is the exact opposite of what I’d expect him to do.. But here he is. Sporting expensive tulips and a toy I’m pretty sure came from one of the bougie stores in downtown Willow Bend.
Again, Tucker looks up and down the open hallway outside my apartment, like he expects someone to be spying on us. When he finds it just as empty as it was before, he elaborates. “I have a proposition for you.”
That has my brows lifting. “I’m not interested in sleeping with you.”
His head tips back in surprise, forehead creasing. “That’s not what I was going to say.” He chuckles, a smirk twisting his lips. “But you shouldn't completely write the possibility off. I’m pretty good at it.”
This time I do roll my eyes, crossing both arms over my chest as I lean against the doorframe. “I’ve heard.”
That’s how my plan started in the first place. I overheard a woman talking about him one day when I took Birdie to get her hair cut. The woman was under the dryer at the salon, so likely had no idea how loud she was when she went on and on about how she couldn’t believe he didn’t want her on a more long-term basis.
Honestly, I couldn’t either. She was gorgeous. The kind of girl most men would cut their pinky off if it meant they’d get the chance to spend time with her.
So I started to do some digging, and discovered Tucker Bradshaw is a commitment phobe. He avoids permanence of any sort when it comes to women. I assumed that would carry over into any byproducts that happened to be born, and decided he could be the answer to at least a few of my problems.
“Whatever you’ve heard is absolutely true.” He gives me a wink. “I’m happy to prove it to you any time. Just say the word.”
“That won’t be happening.” Not only because I have bigger concerns than whatever urges I may or may not have, but also because Tucker Bradshaw is the exact opposite of the sort of man who will be in my bed next. I’ve had my fill of commitment averse men.
If Tucker is bothered by my disinterest, he doesn’t show it. Just shrugs. “Suit yourself.” His easy smile holds. “But I still have a proposition for you.”
I sigh. “Tucker, I have a lot going on right now, and I don’t?—”
“Twenty grand.”
My brain trips as I attempt to process what he just said. “Twenty grand, what?”
“I’m willing to give you twenty thousand dollars.” He says it slowly, like he wants to be sure I hear him.
And I hear him, I just don’t understand. “For what?”
“That’s the proposition I’m trying to make.” He gives me a lopsided smile. “But you’re not making it very easy.”
I hesitate for a second longer, but ultimately the need to get my daughter the heck out of Wyoming wins. I reach out, grabbing the front of his shirt, and use the hold to drag Tucker into my apartment before slamming the door behind him.
I turn to face him, nervous but hopeful for the first time. “What’s the proposition?”
I know I said I wouldn’t have sex with him, but I will. For twenty thousand dollars? I’ll even do it twice and pretend to like it.
But Tucker is already distracted, his eyes roaming around my empty home. “You’re quite the minimalist, aren’t you?”
“Sure. Yeah. Feng shui.” I step toward him, gripping his jawwith one hand to bring his attention back to me. “What is the proposition?”
“You’re kinda bossy, aren’t you?” He grins down at me. “Perfect.”
