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“Can’t you ask Brooks? Or Mal? He’s an artist. What about Ava? Or your mom?”
I started reeling in the big fat nothing on my line. “My mama would paint giant bovines all over my house and well you know it. As for Mal, if the baby-puke green he suggested for Ava’s nursery was any indicator, he’s color challenged. And don’t even get me started on my brother.”
He stood and began packing. If we’d scared away the fish, there was no point in sticking around anyway.
“I would, D. But I volunteered for a shift at the hospital. Maybe ask the folks at the hardware store? If Sully’s working today, they’ll fix you up.” He hesitated and then spoke with some kind of fake casual. “Or Jenn. She’s off today. You could ask her to help.”
I stood up and stretched. “Nah, it’ll be fine. Maybe you’re right about Sully. They helped Diesel with his chicken chateau thing, and it turned out real nice.”
But when I dropped Tucker off at his house, I almost forgot all about the paint. As he leaned out of my truck, his shirt rode up, exposing a strip of bare skin and the tiniest sliver of his underwear waistband.
It was dark pink.
I’d never seen dark pink underwear on a guy before, which was probably why my eyes glued onto it, and I couldn’t seem to unstick them for anything. What did those undies look like? Were they his usual boxer briefs or something else? Did he wear little briefs sometimes? And why the hell did I care?
I cared because it was something about him I didn’t know, and I liked knowing everything about him. Lately it seemed like new Tucker details were popping up all over. First it was the way his mouth tasted when I kissed him at the Pickin’. Then he revealed the whole ex-boyfriend thing. After that it was the revelation he was at Fossie Creek in the first place because of heartbreak.
It was like I didn’t even know my best friend anymore. And now the freaking underwear thing.
My eyes wandered all over his body, looking for other clues. As I drank in the familiar sight of him, my skin got all hot and weird. He was… really nice to look at. Like, really nice. The man was fit and healthy. Tight muscles under smooth skin. His hair was dark brown, and he had the kind of face that could look serious and professional one minute and mischievous and boyish the next.
I adored that face, but now… now I was starting to think about other parts of him. And that was weird.
I forced myself to focus on the things I needed to do today. I swung by the paint store, but Sully wasn’t there. Mayleen sold me a ten-dollar pack of stapled-together colored paper pieces called a “fan deck” and told me to take it home and think on it. When I pulled up to my house, I thought maybe I’d leave the thinking to someone else like Tucker had recommended.
Before I had a chance to open the front door, I heard tires crunching on gravel.
“Hey, Dunn!” Jenn waved excitedly from the open window of her car. “I brought you some wisteria vines my daddy pulled down this morning.” She got out and waved the scraggly brown vines around like cheerleader pom-poms.
Oh Lord on a Lilliputian. The Entwinin’.
“I’m not… I mean. I’m not all that great with…” She didn’t let me finish. She shoved the vines in my chest and yanked the fan deck out of my hand so I could cradle the unruly vines to my chest. “It’s just that me and vines don’t really—”
“Whatcha painting?” She fanned the colored pages open with excitement.
I threw out my hand to encompass the house and the barn. “All of it. Tucker said I should consider something besides a white farmhouse and red barn.”
“Oooh! I love picking out colors. You want my help?”
I tossed the vines down in a heap on the front porch and plucked the fan deck back from her. “I don’t need help,” I said, tossing the fan deck on a table on the porch before turning and hopping back down the porch steps to the yard. “I’ve gotta check on one of the heifers. You’re more than welcome to come with.”
Jenn jumped back and almost slid into the mud left over from last night’s rainstorm. She picked her way delicately through the puddles spotted here and there between the house and the main barn. I noticed she wore light pink canvas shoes that weren’t going to bear up well on the farm.
“You want some boots?” I asked. “Tucker keeps a pair here, and his feet are smaller than mine. They’re around back. I’d say you could wear Luisa’s extra pair, but she’d probably shank you if she saw you in them.”
