Okay, WALKER.
Brooke
That’s just mean.
Maren
YOU SAID I WAS HORNY FOR TREVOR AND YOU’RE CALLING MARIAH MEAN?
Mariah
Maren.
Darling.
Light of my life.
Cut the shit.
Maren
Brooke’s right. You are mean.
22
Tucker
I’m working in the back corner of my shop, finishing up a project I started earlier in the week, when a prickle of awareness crawls up my spine. I straighten from where I’ve been crouched for the past hour, spinning toward the door leading into my domain.
As I expected, Ruth is there, her eyes dragging around the space. They stop on me and I can’t help but smile. I haven’t seen her since she left to help Trevor. And while her absence made it easier for me to get certain things done, it’s also been strange not having her in my office.
I wanted to check on her. Make sure she was okay and that Trevor wasn’t being a dick. But it felt invasive and overbearing to track her down. Like I was stepping over an invisible line I didn’t put in place.
Seeing her now—and the smile on her face—eases the concern I’ve carried all day. It also brings a hefty amount of relief because it doesn’t look like I have to kick Trevor’s ass for upsetting her.
Moving away from the item I’m not quite ready for her to see, I quickly cross the distance between us, peeling off my workgloves as I go. My eyes move over her as I close in, looking for any sign of upset or frustration. But there’s not even a hint of tension in her expression or frame. No agitation pinching her face and no annoyance tipping her lips into a frown.
If anything she looks… happy.
I come to a stop in front of her, positioning my body to block as much of the project from her sight as I can. “Hey.”
Ruth’s eyes move over me, skimming down my body in a slow pass that makes me stand up a little straighter. “Hey.”
I smirk when her cheeks flush the tiniest bit, because I’m pretty sure I know what she’s thinking about. I’ve been thinking about it too. Spent most of the day trying to talk myself out of allowing it to happen again. Before Ruth walked in, I’d almost decided I could keep my hands to myself. It’s what I should do. Getting physical with Ruth will only complicate an already complicated situation. She’s not a girl I can sleep with, send home in the morning, and never see again.
And I don’t want to.
I like having her around. I like Birdie’s little voice filling my house and Ruth rolling her eyes when I flirt with her. I like knowing they’ll be there when I wake up and knowing they’re safe while I sleep. I just like knowing she’s close. For safety purposes.
The chances my mother or anyone else in my family will see us right now are nil, but I still reach for her, sliding my hand into hers so I can use the hold to tug her closer. “How’s your day been?”
Ruth’s lips pull into a smile she tries unsuccessfully to flatten out. “Good.” Her eyes lift to my face. “I think your brother is about two bad days away from having a full-fledged meltdown.”
That has my brows lifting. “Trevor?”
Ruth angles a brow. “Which other brother would I be talking about?”
“Fair.” Ty and Toby are both the happiest they’ve ever been. Living their best lives with amazing women they probably don’t deserve. “Walker isn’t prone to meltdowns.”
