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SEVENTY
LETTIE
“Tuck! Tuck, wake up!”I hollered from my kitchen, sitting frozen at the breakfast nook where I had just poured a cup of coffee. Tuck barreled in, his boxer briefs the only thing covering him, with my mini bat in his hands. I kept the bat on my side table as a “just in case,” even though nothing bad ever happened in Aveline.
Tuck had on his morning face. A face that I felt so lucky to know, and one that I had to admit I was a little jealous of. How did he look so good after just waking up?
“What is it? Are you okay?”
I drank in the sight of him. He really was the most attractive man I had ever seen. The ripples of abs, the tan skin—even in the winter—that was now covered in tattoos, and those eyes blanketed with thick, dark lashes that would have made any girl envious.
I laughed. “Oh, yes, sorry. I just wanted you to see that it’s snowing!”
He slowly put down the bat and came over to me, kissing the top of my head like he always did. He looked out the bay window, the backyard covered in a blanket of fresh snow glistening in the morning light.
“I love the snow when it’s untouched, don’t you?” My legs were tucked up in the chair, my arms around them holding onto my coffee mug.
“I do.” He paused. “Hey, come on.” He started to put his boots on by the door.
“Where?” I asked, sitting up and placing my legs onto the floor.
“Outside! We’ve never seen the snow together.”
It hadn’t snowed more than a light dusting all winter so far, but there was about six inches just blanketing the ground outside. I looked down at my pajamas. A pair of long johns with black birds all over them and fuzzy socks pulled up to my calves. “Should we get dressed first?”
He grabbed my hand. “There’s no time. We have to see it before anything ruins it!”
“Won’t you be cold?” I fumbled, putting my boots on.
“Probably. I’m in my underwear. Wouldn’t you be cold?”
I rolled my eyes playfully. “Okay, smarty pants. We’re taking a blanket then! I don’t deal with frostbite, and I certainly don’t want any of my favorite appendages to fall off.”
“You’re so sweet, Little One. Always looking out for my toes.”
I giggled as I wrapped up in the fleece blanket from my couch. “Your toes might be my least favorite appendage. Have you seen your second toe? It’s bigger than your big toe, and personally, I just think that’s weird.”
Tuck feigned offense. “You mean Chuck?”
I burst out laughing, a snort escaping. “Stop it. You can’t name your toes Chuck.”
“Only this one.” He pointed to his left foot. “The other one is Norris.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” I exclaimed, and he grabbed my hand, taking me through the door and out into the snow. The air was crisp, the way it always was only after it had snowed, and I lifted my face to the sky, inhaling deeply and allowing the flurries to fall gently onto my face like a whisper.
I looked over at Tuck, and he was standing in his boots and boxer briefs, staring at me, snow falling all around him.
I smiled, placing the blanket around his shoulders. “If someone would have told me a year ago that Tuck Anderson would be back in my life, standing in his underwear in the snow with me, I would have told them that there was no way in H-E-double-hockey-sticks.”
He wrapped his arms around me, pulling the blanket over both of us. “I always knew—some way, somehow—the universe would bring us back together.”
“You said that, all those years ago in that last letter.” I closed my eyes. “I haven’t written a letter since you and I used to send them.”
“Really?” he asked, sounding surprised.
“Yep. The most I’ve written are thank-you cards. Why? Don’t tell me you had a new pen pal, because I might die if you did.”
Tuck chuckled. “I wrote letters, but it wasn’t to anyone new.”
