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“You’re going to need to pick up a cake,” Brooks said. Mal nodded his agreement. “And not just any cake. Maggie’s apple crumble cake.”
“Ooh. Good call. Let’s get coffee and the cake before we head on over.”
I opened the door, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, feeling a bit like I’d been dressed by twittering animals and danced my way through my chores this morning. So when I stepped inside and saw my Tucker being manhandled by that smarmy big-city doctor… well, it wasn’t pretty.
“The fuck,” I said under my breath.
Mal made a little sound of excitement in the back of his throat, and Brooks immediately tried to shush him.
“Hey,” I said abnormally loudly. “It is us. Me, I mean. Us. The three of us. Here in this house of coffee.” I gestured in a generalized circle with a stiff arm.
Everyone in the shop seemed to stare. “Well, hey, Dunn, buddy,” Cornell Higgins called from behind his giant latte. “You having a hearing problem?”
“No.”
Brooks stepped out from behind me. “Oh look,” he said dryly. “It’s Mom.” He swallowed. “And Tucker. And some super-handsome rich-looking dude.”
Mal shoved me out of the way. Tuck hadn’t even looked over yet. Obviously whatever Dr. Jerkus was saying was way too interesting for him to spare a glance at little ole me. I moved closer.
“Well, now.” I spoke as calmly as I could. I’d seen scenes like this in movies, and I didn’t want to alarm anyone or start something melodramatic. “Seems like you maybe forgot to tell me something, Doc Wright.”
Tuck squeezed his eyes closed. Probably the wince of guilt. “Dunn?” he asked, as if confirming it was, in fact, the person who’d been in his bed this morning.
Naked.
“That’s my name. Don’t wear it…” I stopped and sighed. That was stupid. “Yeah, it’s me. Didn’t know you wanted coffee. I could have made you coffee. You certainly didn’t need other people to get coffee for you. I was gone for an hour. Jesus.”
“Dunn Johnson,” Mama snapped. “Taking the Lord’s name in vain and on a Sunday, no less.”
“Sorry, Mama.” I leaned over and pecked her on the cheek before grabbing a chair from a nearby table. “I was gonna come see you, but I guess now there’s no reason to.”
I gave Tucker significant eye contact, but he just squinted at me in return. “Your eyes hurting, D?”
“Mr. Rogers,” I said with a nod in the man’s direction. I shoved the chair between him and Tuck and sat down.
“It’s Doctor,” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “Good to see you again, Dunk.”
I lurched forward, but Tuck grabbed me smoothly by the back of the collar and sat my ass back down in the chair. “It’s Mr. Johnson to you,” I snapped.
Mal sat down in a chair on the other side of the guy and placed his hand on Carter’s arm. “Actually, his daddy is Big Johnson, so you can call him Little Johnson.” Then Mal turned to me with flippy eyelashes. “Isn’t that right, Little Johnson?”
Brooks snickered, and I shot him a look that promised retribution on his man. Then I turned to Tuck. “Hey.”
He blushed and looked down at his lap. “Hey.”
Carter laughed. “So, Tucker. You were saying you were going to show me around this charming little burg of yours.”
“Is that what you want to do?” Tucker asked, as if actually considering it. The loud clattering and chatting noises in the crowded cafe were getting on my last nerve. “I do have the day off.”
Carter leaned back and crossed his outstretched legs under the table. “Either that or you can take me fishing to all those pretty little spots you used to tell me about. Wasn’t there one on a bridge you liked?”
That was enough. I couldn’t sit here and listen to any more of this nonsense. If Tucker wasn’t going to put him in his place, I would. “He can’t,” I said. “I’m coming over to snake his drain.”
The entire coffeehouse went dead silent like someone had turned a giant off switch on the back of the building.
“Finally,” Mama muttered.
“Is that right?” Mal asked innocently.
Tucker’s face bloomed deep red in slow motion as his face turned from slightly, awkwardly uncomfortable into mottled fury.
Shit.
“You what?” he asked between tight teeth.
I stood up and put my hands up so everyone would hear me. “It wasn’t a euphemism,” I said to the room. “I swear. It’s just that when I was in his shower last night, well, closer to this morning I guess, it was draining really slow.”
Mama put her face in her hands and began to shake. And that’s when I realized she wasn’t going to take the news of the two of us as well as I’d hoped.
I shot a frantic look at Tucker. He always knew how to help me get my mouth out of trouble. “Tucker, do something. You know what I mean.”
