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I nod thoughtfully. “I get it. It’s a big house. But there’s also a recording studio you haven’t seen, along with a gym and a pool.”
“Well, Chloe will love that.”
“Do you love it?”
He walks to the double doors that open out to the balcony that overlooks the pool and gardens. We step out and lean on the cement railing.
“It’s fun,” he says at last. “Different.”
“It’s not as intimidating as you think,” I assure him. “The staff doesn’t stay all the time. They meet me here after I’ve been gone for a long time to help me get settled. But then they’re gone. Trust me, I don’t keep a butler and a maid every day.”
“I didn’t say anything about that.”
“I saw your wheels turning.” I take his hand in mine because the distance is killing me. “The maid comes once a week. I also have a gardener and a pool boy.”
“Of course, you do.”
“I mean, I have a pool,” I remind him. “Hence, the pool boy.”
He laughs and reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “It’s great, Scar. You’ve done really well for yourself. Thanks for having us.”
“Let’s take the weekend to relax,” I suggest. “We can go into the city if you want to do the tourist thing. We can swim, or veg, or whatever. No agenda.”
“Sounds good.” He leans down to kiss me, but we suddenly hear gagging noises behind us.
“Seriously,” Chloe says. “Ew. There is a child present.”
“You weren’t present four seconds ago,” Tucker says, ruffling her hair and earning a scowl. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking? Did your father raise you in a barn?”
“The door was open,” Chloe reminds him and rolls her eyes. “And my father is the one born in a barn.”
I love watching them banter. They’re funny, comfortable with each other, and you can see the love between them.
Tucker is an excellent dad.
It’s just another reason for me to love him more than anything in the world.
“Is that a pool?” Chloe asks with excitement, leaning over the railing. “Oh my gosh, we gotta swim! I brought my suit, just in case. I think I read in People magazine a few years ago that you had a pool. Dad, we need a pool! I’m gonna go change. Last one in’s a rotten egg.”
She runs through the bedroom and toward her room, leaving us grinning after her.
“So, I guess first up is swimming,” I say with a laugh.
“How can you resist that?” he agrees. “And the last one in’s a rotten egg, so let’s go.”
The weekend flew by in a flurry of activity. We ate, relaxed, laughed, and swam. It’s been wonderful. I don’t want it to end.
“How is it Sunday evening already?” The night is quiet around us. We’re sitting out on the master balcony on plush furniture, with chips and queso as a snack because I got hungry. “Time sure flies when you’re being lazy.”
“We haven’t been lazy,” Tucker protests with a full mouth. “We’ve been swimming and recording awful songs in your studio for two days.”
“There’s that,” I agree with a grin. Chloe loved the studio, and we spent all morning today laying down tracks. “With some voice lessons, she might—”
“Still be tone deaf,” Tucker finishes for me. “She’s my daughter, and I think she’s the most brilliant child on the planet, but even I can admit that she has no future in singing.”
I’m laughing, holding my sides. “She’s not that bad.”
Tucker pops another chip into his mouth and stares at me. “Really?”
“Okay, she’s pretty bad. But she’s great with the guitar.”
“That I’ll agree with,” he says. “She practices all the time.”
“It shows. We barely left the house since you arrived.” That’s an understatement. We’ve only been to the grocery store three miles up the road to stock up on more food. “We didn’t go to the Opry, or any of the amazing restaurants, or anything.”
“We didn’t mind.”
“Chloe seems to enjoy it here.” God, I’m nervous. Why am I so damn nervous? Oh, yeah, because my very happiness might depend on how this conversation goes. No pressure or anything.
“She loves it,” he agrees, scraping the last of the queso out of the bowl. “She might have grown gills this weekend, with as much as she was in the pool.”
“She loves to swim.” I look out over the pool area in question and take a deep breath. “Do you think this is somewhere you might be able to see yourself living?”
I bite my lip and watch as a frown forms between Tucker’s eyes. He sets the bowl down, swallows the food in his mouth, and licks his lips.
“I mean, not right away, of course. I know it takes time, and maybe I’m jumping the gun a bit.”
“No.”
I blink rapidly. “No?”
He clears his throat and shakes his head. “I couldn’t live here.”
