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“Oh, it’s shady? Now I really need to know. Let’s pop some popcorn, and you can give me all the scandalous details.”
“Still a smartass, I see.”
“That’s never going to change, Tucker Lee.”
His lips twitch. “Clearly, we’ve made up if we’re using our full names.”
“Or we’re mad at each other. My dad used to call me Scarlett Jane when I was in trouble.”
“I’m not mad,” Tucker says with a slow shake of his head.
“Me either,” I breathe. “But, Tuck?”
“Yeah.”
“I want to know everything. From the minute I left.”
“How long are you going to be here?”
“For as long as it takes.”
He tilts his head to the side, watching me. It’s implied that I’m here for as long as it takes for my father to heal, but now it means so much more than I ever expected.
“Good answer.”
7
~ Tucker ~
“I’ll take a beer.” Scooter plops onto a lounge chair and nods toward the cooler at my feet.
“I bet you will,” I say, flipping the burgers. “I’m a little busy here. Get it yourself.”
“You’re standing right there.”
Dean rolls his eyes, grabs Scooter a beer, and tosses it to him.
“Thank you, Dean.” Scooter pops the top and leans back. “You’ve always been my favorite cousin.”
“Fuck off.”
“Language.” Mom smacks me on the back of the head and peers over my shoulder at the food on the grill. “How are those burgers coming, sweetheart?”
“You can’t hit me on the back of the head and then call me sweetheart.”
“I’m your mother, I can do whatever I want, and you know better than to cuss with Chloe around.”
“She’s in the house. It’s not like she heard me.”
“You tell him, Aunt Theresa.” Scooter salutes my mom with his beer, and she ruffles his hair.
“You’re such a good boy, Scooter.”
Dean laughs, spewing beer across the deck. “Scooter, good? You have met him before, right?”
“See what I put up with?” Scooter sticks his lower lip out in a pout, and of course, Mom falls for it—hook, line, and sinker.
She pats Scooter’s cheek and smiles fondly at her only nephew before coming back over to me. “How much longer on those?”
“Ten minutes, tops.”
“Don’t forget to make mine well-done. You know how I feel about pink in the center.”
“I know, Ma. You remind me that every time I grill.”
She stares at me for a few seconds and then furrows her brow. “Are you okay, honey? You seem kind of crabby today.”
“I’m fine.”
“You know”—Scooter kicks his legs over the side of his chair and sits up—“I thought he seemed a little fussy today, too.”
Fussy? What am I, two? I roll my eyes and concentrate on the food. “I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.”
Because I was up all night thinking about Scarlett and the hooded look to her eyes right before Chloe walked outside.
“Your lack of sleep wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain someone who’s back in town, would it?” Dean asks.
I love my brother, but I’m going to kill him for saying that in front of Mom.
“What certain someone?” Mom swoops in like flies on shit. “Who’s back in town?”
“No one, Ma.”
“Scarlett Kincaid.” Scooter shrugs when I look at him. “What? She was going to find out sooner or later.”
Mom’s eyes bounce between Scooter and Dean before she turns fully toward me. “Scarlett is home? I’d hardly call her no one. How long has she been here? Have you seen her? What did you talk about?”
Scooter hands his beer to Dean and brings a finger to his mouth.
“You knew that Rick had a stroke, right?” I ask.
“Yes, but I didn’t expect it to bring Scarlett home,” she says, while Scooter mouths “oh, Scarlett,” wraps his arms around the pretend country music star and proceeds to make out with her behind my mother’s back.
My lips twitch, but I clear my throat and keep my expression even. “He’s her dad. Of course, she came home. Give her a little credit.” I know Mom isn’t Scarlett’s biggest fan, and Scarlett might be self-centered, but she’s a good person at her core.
“I’m just shocked, that’s all. Is she staying with Rick?”
Here we go with the twenty questions.
“Yep.”
“Have you talked to her or not?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How long is she in town for?”
“No clue. Ask her yourself.”
“Are you two…?”
I set the spatula down and lift an eyebrow. “Are we what?”
Scooter whips an imaginary condom from his pocket, tears it open with his teeth and pretends to roll it down his shaft.
“Copulating. Are you two copulating?”
Scooter stops thrusting his hips long enough to frown at the back of Mom’s head. “Copulating?” he mouths. Dean tries to hold in his laugh but loses the battle. He stands up and shakes his head.
“Oh, come on, Dean,” Mom chides. “You’re a grown man. You too, Scooter. Wipe the grin from your face.”
“Do you have to use the word copulating?” Dean asks, curling his lip. “Why can’t you just ask him if he’s screwing around with Scarlett?”
