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I had never instantly connected with anyone the way I had with Tuck. He made me feel comfortable being myself, and after the date with Theo, I realized I had never truly been myself with anyone else before.
I knew our time was limited. Tuck would be leaving for the Army in a couple of months, and I wondered if I should even be going on dates and spending time with him because of the mere fact that I probably wouldn’t see him for years after he left in September. But the idea of not spending a summer with him seemed even worse.
I wondered if he had gotten my letter. I was afraid he would think it was cheesy or stupid to write letters in between the time we would see each other, and I was sure he probably had a million other things he would rather be doing, butIdidn’t.
It was so lonely and stiff at home that even just writing to him made me feel closer to Aveline. Plus, I really hoped he would want to stay in touch after he left, and the only way to do that was to write.
“What’s your favorite kind of snack? Are you a sweet or salty girl?” Tuck asked as he pulled ingredients down from cabinets.
“I’m not really allowed to snack. If I get hungry between our meal times, my mother only gives me seaweed or rice cakes.” I shivered thinking of how gross they both were.
Tuck stopped what he was doing. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. My mother only lets me have sweets on my birthday. One piece of cake, and that’s it.” I watched him get the mixer ready.
“You’re kidding.” He stopped and looked at me with disbelief.
I shook my head. “No. Seriously.” I mocked my mother’s pretentious voice, “‘Violet, darling, you don’t want to gain weight, do you? How will you ever fit into the size two dress for the ball if you eat that?’” I scoffed. “If she knew I was here making donuts with every intention of eating half a dozen of them the moment they are done, she would fall over dead.”
Tuck’s eyes were fixated on me. “I guess we need to make them extra sweet then, don’t we?”
I looked up at him and smiled widely. “Yes. Absolutely. I want to gain weight just by looking at them!” I laughed and moved closer to him, my hands clasping the counter. “What do we do first?”
Tuck began explaining every task and showing me exactly how to make the donuts. When we had the ingredients mixed into a dough, he placed a plastic wrap over the top of the bowl and put it in the oven.
“Wait… won’t the plastic melt?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Tuck chuckled again, and I knew my lack of baking knowledge amused him. “We aren’t baking it. Just allowing it to rise in a warm place. I’ll only put the light on, not the oven.”
“Ohhh, okay. I see. So how long?”
“About an hour. It will double in size. But we can start the glaze while we wait,” he replied, moving back over to the ingredients.
Tuck gave me instructions, and I followed them to a T, mixing together the powdered sugar, vanilla, milk, and a pinch of sea salt until I had a donut glaze ready to go. I reached over, stuck my finger in the white icing, and licked it.
“Perfect,” I said, licking my lips before dipping another finger back into the icing for another taste.
Tuck took my wrist in his hands before I could bring it to my lips. His touch was gentle and electrifying, but caught me off guard enough to make my heart jump.
“Hey now, since you got to sample it, I think I should be able to as well. Don’t you agree?” He raised his eyebrows and held my finger in the air between us.
Without warning, he moved closer to me. The icing on my finger was dripping ever so slightly and his eyes were fixated on mine. Light gray eyes penetrated into my own, and I felt every hair on my body stand up. My heart began to race and my stomach was full of butterflies and gymnasts. As he inched closer to me, I began to hold my breath. He still held my finger between the two of us and his eyes flicked to the icing and back to me.
“Can I try it?”
I liked how he asked my permission before doing anything.
I merely nodded. I couldn’t speak, or reply, or breathe, for that matter. I was frozen in place with a tingling feeling vibrating throughout my body, and when he leaned over and took my finger into his mouth before pulling it back out again, I felt my knees buckle. The sensation was warm, and I imagined what it would be like to feel his mouth on mine.
Jumping Joseph on a pogo stick, what in God’s name was this feeling taking over my body?
“Wow,” he said before moving back and releasing my hand. “I might make you into a baker after all, Little One.”
I giggled, trying to will myself to move or blink or do anything other than stand there like I had just been electrocuted, but it was no use. Because even though Tuck had moved to the fryer, I could still feel his mouth touching me.
THIRTY-THREE
TUCK
