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“Sweet Alice!” Tucker whisper-shouts using his hands to cup around his mouth. “Where is my Sweet Alice?” He glances at me and winks.
Then his other sister appears from inside the elevator. She’s a lot shorter than Tucker and Teagan but still taller than me, wearing jeans and a purple T-shirt with FREE HUGS in pink on the front. Her arms are open wide as she makes her way toward her brother with the cutest grin on her face. She has Down syndrome.
I watch Tucker transform from a cocky guy to tackling his older sister in a bear hug as they bounce up and down with enthusiasm and laugh together like they are children.
“I missed you, Tucker. Did you miss me?” Her love for her brother is shining through brightly.
“Always, Alice.” He gives his sister a loud kiss on the cheek, bringing another round of giggles from her.
My heart flutters.
Alice and Tucker are adorable together.
My heart smiles at the bond they share.
Teagan leans sideways into my shoulder and murmurs, “My brother is playing dirty. I hope you don’t mind he has ambushed you with us?”
I glance up at her. She genuinely looks worried. “I’m a big girl. We are just friends.”
“Does he know that?”
“Yes.” Well, I haven’t said it word for word. “I hardly know him.”
“Yet here you are.” She leans away from me with a big smile on her face.
Crap.
“Alice, come meet my new friend, Ophelia.” Tucker has his arm draped over his big sister’s shoulder as he guides her toward where we stand.
“Hello, Ophelia,” she says shyly, “you are beautiful.”
“Hello, Alice… um… thank you. I like your T-shirt, and you have awesome glasses.” They are clear, round frames.
“I like to hug and get hugs,” she giggles, and it is full of the purest joy.
And then I find myself drawn into an enthusiastic Sweet Alice hug. At that moment, I felt like Alice was pulling me deeper down the rabbit hole into Tucker’s life, and I found I liked what I saw.
“Ophelia…” Alice takes my hand. “You can hold my hand in case you feel dizzy.” She leads me to the elevator.
Oh, boy!
I look at Tucker over my shoulder, watching the cheeky grin curve his mouth. I swear I see a glint in his eye. “Not cool, Tucker.” He must have messaged his sisters during my half of the riding journey and spilled the beans on our morning adventure in the hot air balloon. I turn back to Alice. “Your brother has been tattling on me, Alice.”
She laughs. “He likes you”—Alice squeezes my hand—“I like you.”
I can now see why Tucker brought me to his home. Sweet Alice is his secret weapon.
Ophelia—one.
Tucker—ten.
Seventeen
A SMALL WINDOW TO IMPRESS
Tucker
We all ride up in the three-stop elevator together, which is a late addition to my 1980s townhouse. It looks modern from the outside with taupe rendering and floor-to-ceiling picture windows with reflective panes on the three levels giving us a direct view down on the esplanade and the ocean over the top of the beach-frontage homes. But on the inside, the interior is my man cave.
