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But Tucker just stood up and turned to Carter. “Come on. We’ll go fishing.”
Just then a booming crack of thunder shook the café, and God’s own drain didn’t need snaking. Rain came down in a torrent and lashed against the windows of the cafe.
Tucker sighed and his shoulders drooped. Brooks stood and clapped him on the shoulder. “Bring Carter fishing tomorrow. We’ll all go together.”
I let out a breath of relief and tried to meet my brother’s eyes to thank him, but he grabbed Mal’s hand and bolted for the end of the coffee line.
I turned to Tucker. “I’m… sorry?” I whispered, unsure of how everything had gone to shit so fast. I had to figure out how to fix it before things went from bad to worse. “Can I talk to you? Please?”
He shook his head and looked… squirrelly. Not at all like a man who’d had his future decided and his love life locked down tight the night before. “Not right now, D. I gotta think about some things, alright?”
I glanced between him and Carter. I did not like the sound of that one bit. “Naked thinking, or…?”
Tucker’s eyes narrowed to angry slits, and his lips pursed the way they did when I accidentally on purpose shoved him in swimming pools whenever he got too close to them.
“Okay, okay. So… I’ll see you tomorrow? At the lake?” I tried not to sound too needy, but it was a close thing.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Bring your Damiki Armor Shad lure.”
He grabbed Carter’s arm and yanked him toward the door. Before they got to the exit, Carter turned back and winked at me. Cocky fucker.
I turned back to my mama, who seemed to have gotten herself under control a little. “Um… I was gonna stop by and pick up a crumble cake at Annie’s…”
That perked her right up. “Well, at least something good might come out of this morning,” she said, standing and brushing off her clothes as if she’d been in a dust storm or something. “Let’s go. And then you can tell me all about what happened between you and Tucker.”
I dragged my heels as I realized my celebration cake had turned into what Mama and Gracie had always called a “boy problems” cake.
Yet another thing about being bisexual I was going to have to get used to.
11
Tucker
10-Across: Baffled, confused, screwed (10 letters)
“If only Dunn Johnson could want me,” I singsonged under my breath as I stared up at a faint crack in the plaster ceiling over the exam table in my office. “Then I’d be the happiest man in the universe. We’d live happily ever after!”
I snorted and shoved another dark chocolate Milano in my mouth.
What a fool I’d been.
Dunn and I had just barely gotten back on track after an awful week apart, and what had I done? Comforted him with an orgasm—you know, as all platonic buds do—when the poor guy had just barely started questioning his sexuality, and ensured that things went right back to weird between us. Now I couldn’t look at my best best friend without thinking about the precise taste and texture of his dick in my mouth—a singularly interesting experience while sitting with his mama at the coffee shop, let me just tell you—and when the man had shown up with his tool bucket to snake the drain in the master bathroom, all I’d been able to think about was him snaking my drain in the master bathroom… which was why I’d squeaked out something about an “emergency situation!” and fled downstairs to the exam room, leaving Carter in the living room with my crossword puzzle books unsupervised, damn it.
Dunn and I needed to talk and clear the air about last night, obviously. But I felt like the apology I owed him for jumping him while he was vulnerable would be more sincere and effective if I weren’t springing wood all over the damn place while I made it. This meant that no talky-talky would be happening today.
I reached down to adjust my jeans, making the vinyl-covered exam table squeak.
Someone knocked at the door, and I froze.
“I’m… I’m bivvy wite now!” I hastily swallowed my cookie and brushed the crumbs from my sweater. “Doctor things. Medical emergencies.”
The doorknob rattled, and a second later, the door swung open to reveal Carter Rogers leaning against the jamb, looking way too put together in his khakis and pastel sweater. How the hell had he known to come look for me?
“Key was above the doorframe.” He glanced up, and his lips twisted into an unimpressed face. “You’d make a terrible spy.”
I scowled. “Then it’s just as well I’m a doctor. And as I mentioned, I’m busy.”
“Yes, I see. Is a Milano deficiency a medical emergency now?” He glanced at the package of cookies still in my hand.
