TUCKER: Valley Enforcers, #3 (8 page)

“It’s one hell of a compliment, but that’s not why you’re spacy. Come on, Em. It’s just me.”

He said that like we were old friends instead of strangers brought together by a broken GPS and totally bad planning skills on my part.

With an exaggerated sigh, I flopped on my back. “Are we supposed to have a crazy sex marathon now? Or do we cook dinner together and watch the news? Because I’m pretty sure I need groceries, the news makes me sad, and I’ve had a really long day at work so I don’t know if I’ll be able to –”

“Slow down and stop overthinking it. I just want to spend more time with you.”

“That’s dangerous for the both of us,” I whispered.

“Spending time with you isn’t dangerous. Swimming with sharks is dangerous. Snowboarding down a volcano is dangerous. Showing up at a meeting with one of my mom’s apple pies is dangerous. Spending the night hanging out with you, in or out of the bedroom, is the least dangerous thing I could think of.”

Maybe for him, but Tucker was already scaling the walls of my heart. He flashed me a boyish smile and I was pretty sure I was a goner. “What is it with moms and pie? I thought that was a grandma thing. You know, like gray hair in a really tight bun and super big glasses and a floral apron. They set the pie in the window and watch their shows while the pies cool, and then they call the entire neighborhood over for a slice with some ice cream.”

“Where did that stereotype even come from? My grandma was the worst cook. It’s a miracle my dad made it out alive, to be honest. She always tried to make fruit cakes for Christmas and they were always so bad but we had to choke them down anyway.”

“That was sweet of you.”

Though he was lying down, he shrugged his shoulders. “She passed away a few years ago, and my mom took over the holiday baking. She wanted to do fruit cakes in honor of Grams, but my sister and I quickly vetoed anything that looked radioactive. That meant fruit cake. She never baked anything but from the box cakes when we were kids, but she really got into the whole pie business. They’re kind of a big deal in my clan.”

“Do you have a big family?” I stretched out beside him, not knowing if physical contact would be a good thing while we were talking.

“Immediate family, no. It’s just my parents, my sister Piper and her mate Axel. My grandparents have all passed away. My dad was an only child, but I have an aunt on my mom’s side that lives in Colorado. A few cousins. My clan is getting pretty big, though. Nothing compared to the numbers you probably have, but we’re growing. What about you? You mentioned a sister earlier.”

“Mandy, yeah. She’s still in high school. I have an older brother, too. Shawn. He’s mated, but they haven’t gotten married yet. May is really sweet. I have family spread throughout Montana, it seems like. An uncle in Billings. Another uncle in Big Sky. An aunt down in Darby. All my grandparents and another uncle all live here in Missoula with our pack. Tons of cousins.”

“You wolf shifters don’t waste any time getting busy.”

I snorted. “The last thing I want to think about is my grandparents having sex. My family is pretty big compared to a lot of the families in the pack. I don’t really seem them a whole lot, though. Our schedules never sync up.”

“I know the feeling. My mom gives me this look every time I have to work on a family dinner night.”

“I know
exactly
the look you’re talking about. It’s the worst.”

“I’m pretty sure you looked at Echo like that earlier, so you might want to watch your step there, Em,” Tucker joked as he propped himself on his side and looked at me.

“She’s in the rebellious teen phase.”

“I have a feeling you know a lot about those years.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah because the weird looking redhead who likes woodshop class is definitely a crazy gal. Girls thought I was checking them out in the locker room, and boys only wanted to feel me up in the back of their trucks.”

“Coming from someone who has had a chance to feel you up on multiple occasions, I can confidently say that those boys wanted to do a little more than touch your tits.” He reached over and rested his hand on my stomach. Warmth spread through me, but I was too tired and too sore to do anything other than stare at him. “And you’re beautiful, Em. Swear to God, you took my breath away the first time I saw you.”

For the life of me, I couldn’t make myself tell him he wasn’t allowed to say that to me. For someone who seemed pretty strict about following the rules, Tucker was doing a shit job when it came to listening to the perimeter he created. I knew it was a bad decision to let myself get caught up in his charm, but I was helpless when it came to him.

I wanted there to be distance between us. And though Tucker made it seem like he was looking for a casual friends with benefits, heavy on the benefits set up…. the more time we spent together, the more it felt like a relationship. I rolled the idea around in my head a few times. The heaviness – the fear of labeling the emotions in my chest – seemed less dramatic each time I tested the thought of having Tucker as more than a quick fling.

“I know the feeling.” I closed my eyes and thought of the moment he opened the car door. The sexy voice. The shifter scent. The hawkish face with brooding features. He was overwhelming from the start.

The bed shifted and I heard his feet hit the carpet. A few seconds later there was a shadow behind my eyelids. Lazily opening them, I cocked a brow up at him. Naked and on display, giving me another chance to take in the impressive lean figure beneath his clothes, he held out a hand. “Come on. You said you had a long day, and I’m beat from the drive. Let’s shower and find something to eat.”

“I don’t think I have much in the kitchen,” I reminded him as I accepted his help. My muscles strained with movement. The ache of a long work day combined with the surprise sex had me wincing as I took a step. “And I don’t know if that shower is big enough for the two of us.”

“You’re creative, and I’m good with my hands.” He stopped and winked at me. “We’ll figure something out. I’m sure anything is better than the frozen pizza I gave you.”

“You say that now,” I warned under my breath, but it was halfhearted. I was too focused on thinking about just how good with his hands he was.

Even though I didn’t need a reminder, Tucker spent the next fifteen minutes showing me heaven with his fingertips.

Tucker

It was getting harder and harder to ignore my bear. He wasn’t used to being ignored and was a stubborn little shit. His claws raking at my insides and the annoying heartbeat that sang that pesky little ‘m’ word over and over again hurt like hell, but seeing Emily post-shower with a glowing face and back in loungewear as she tittered around the kitchen was torture. She had an uncanny ability to make herself comfortable in every situation, even my heart. That was a topic I didn’t want to breech, so I focused on the swell of her ass and tried to ignore the way her excited voice made my lungs tighten up.

“I am not a sports person, but it was
insane
. I grew up with my Dad shoving Griz pride down my throat. And I mean, you can’t live in Montana without having a stance on the Brawl of the Wild.” She stopped abruptly and turned to me, eyes narrow. “Cats or Griz?”

“I’m a bear,” I gawked, mocking offense. “You think I’d root for anyone other than the Grizzlies?”

“I was just making sure. I don’t think I could continue sleeping with you if you supported the Bobcats.” Her smile was infectious. “Anyway, it was a really good game. I know just enough about football to keep up with what’s happening, but the atmosphere was insane. The t-shirt cannon almost knocked me out, but I got this dope shirt so… pretty sure I’m the winner here.”

I snorted and leaned back in the tiny chair, praying it didn’t snap in half. Her dining room set was more of a little café set up, and I felt like a giant sitting down at the table. “I’m not sure winner is the word I’d use. Wasn’t your wolf going crazy?”

“I pre-gamed to loosen up and took a handful of Ibuprofen as soon as we walked through the gate. It took a while to adjust to the noise, but that was the only shitty part. My wolf is used to crowds. She’s a people watcher.”

“Big Bad Wolf likes to scout out her next meal?”

A tiny middle finger flashed in my direction. “She’s attentive, you lumbering oaf. Bears don’t have any tact. You rely on your size to be a predator. A true apex predator has the brains and the brawn.”

“I was just joking, Em,” I rushed out in one breath. Her back was to me, but I felt like she was going to snap my head off. That or her guard dog would do the job. Echo stayed as far away from me as she could in the tiny kitchen, but the second Emily’s voice rose the dog started in my direction with a menacing growl.

Emily snapped her fingers at her furry friend. “Echo, no. He’s just a big meanie head. You think we should keep ice cream from him if he keeps acting like a jerk? Yeah, me too.”

“I’m not acting like a jerk. You overreacted.” Risking my chances with Echo, I pushed up from the table and took three steps to close the distance between me and Emily. She tensed when I touched her, but I rested my head on her shoulders anyway. “I was playing around. You’re the one who was insulting. I’m not angry that you basically called me a tactless oaf who doesn’t deserve to be called a predator.”

She grumbled something undecipherable before her body relaxed. She shifted and moved us away from the stove, turning to rest her back against the counter. “That was a little much, huh?” When I only raised an eyebrow in response, she shifted on her feet and looked away from me. “Talking about our animals makes me uncomfortable. You and I both know there’s a predisposition to not trust other shifter breeds. It was just a reaction. Defensive, I know.”

“I could probably be swayed to forgive you with a kiss or two.”

Her eyes rolled a little, but she smiled and leaned up on her toes. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re
incredibly
charming?”

“Sarcasm works well with you.” I pecked her lips chastely, knowing any more would be distracting. “And yes, my mother tells me all the time that I’m charming. So take that, firecracker.”

“Original. Got any more?” Her hand popped up between us and she started counting off, bending a finger with each name. “Ginger, lava head, Carrot Top, Wendy, Red.” When all five fingers were curled she gave me an expectant look. “I can keep going. I have a long list. There are a half dozen more outdated pop culture references in my back pocket.”

I snaked a hand around and squeezed her ass. “Really? I don’t think there are pockets back here, Em. Maybe you should lie down and take a breather.”

“Whatever,” She laughed, nudging me away. “I need to flip the chicken before it burns. Stop distracting me. You’re a real shitty sous chef, you know.”

“I told you I wasn’t going to be much help.”

“You said you were good with your hands.”

I shrugged. “I mean, I
am
. Just not in the kitchen.”

Echo nudged against her leg, tongue wagging and tail swishing. The dog was really good at pretending like I wasn’t there. My bear was dominant, and though I wasn’t purposely giving off any vibes, I knew he was intimidating. Just like her mom, the spunky Husky adapted well. She was a strong dog and after deeming me a low level threat, she went to pretending like I wasn’t even there. A rescue pup adopted by a shifter. It wasn’t something I ever thought I’d see, but I was growing accustom to being surprised when it came to Emily.

Driving to see her was impulsive and probably reckless, but I couldn’t stop myself. The restless nights and swarming memories of the way she felt were as annoying as they were thrilling. I thought a few more nights with her would make my infatuation go away, but I had a feeling it would do the exact opposite of that. Yet, I couldn’t pull away. Couldn’t make myself walk out the door and forget about her.

We chatted about everything and nothing while she finished cooking. Conversation was never a strongpoint for me, especially not after I was mauled outside Ignis land. I wasn’t a lady killer like Justin. Small talk seemed pointless in the past. But what would have been boring and useless with others seemed to flow freely with Emily. I found myself wanting to know all the little things. I wanted to know about her different projects and her favorite TV shows. Hell, I even enjoyed the mindless gossip about her workplace. She could read straight from the clan history book and I’d be enthralled.

Maybe I should tell Deacon the right way to teach the teenagers about our clan’s past was to have a spunky little redhead get up in front of them and talk.

I chuckled to myself and looked over at her. Hair still wet from the shower and damp spots on her shirt from where her bouncy curls dripped, she hummed while plating our food. The domesticity of it all should have been terrifying. It was, to a certain degree. But the sight of her held so much more weight in my heart.

“Do you mind filling up my wine glass?” She asked as she turned, a plate of steaming pasta in either hand.

I did as she said and thanked her as she slid the food in front of me. Emily claimed her pantry was low and her cooking skills lacked pizazz, but my mouth watered at the sight of the chicken alfredo and homemade garlic bread on the plate. It looked a hell of a lot better than my attempts to make pasta. Smelled better, too. Honestly, if it would’ve been bland and colorless I would’ve tore into it like a five star meal.

“I’m going to this thing for New Year’s Eve.” My mouth moved on its own and by the time my brain caught up, it was too late. “I’d like to take you.”

The ‘thing’ I was going to was a bar with Justin in Center Village after my shift. We’d be able to make it in time to see the ball drop and for Justin to find a flavor of the night. He had to report in at four that morning, so the whole outing was pointless. It was either that or sit at home and ignore my mom’s phone calls.

The minute the offer left my mouth, I regretted it. Not because I asked but because the look on her face had my mind spinning. She frowned, fork frozen midair like I had pressed pause on the entire scene. “I traded my Christmas shift for a New Year’s Eve shift. I have to work; I’m sorry.” I wasn’t entirely convinced she was sorry, but it was easier to play it off and pretend like it wasn’t a big deal. Besides, taking her out would only lead to questions I didn’t have time for.

I shoved a heaping mound of noodles into my mouth and chewed. I shrugged and talked with my mouth half full. “It’s fine, just thought I’d ask. My buddy wanted to go to the bar. Does the nursing home go as crazy for New Year’s Eve as they do for Christmas?”

“They go crazy for
all
the holidays.” She loosened up, and I was thankful that some of the awkward tension seemed to dissipate. “Deb, our activities director, is such a wonderful woman. She’ll be pulling overtime Thursday. In the afternoon she has a party hat craft set up. The residents loved it last year. I’m going in early to help clean up and set up for the social. Not everyone stays up to watch the ball drop, but we have a good time anyway. I think she got the OK to serve champagne. That should help knock everyone out afterwards.”

“Sounds a hell of a lot more fun than hanging out a dirty bar with me surrounded by drunk assholes,” I said, tipping the neck of my beer bottle in her direction.

“It’s not that I don’t want to see you again, Tucker.” Her voice was softer now. She reached down and absently stroked the top of Echo, who was dutifully perched at her feet. “I can’t get out of work.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you. I just thought… never mind what I thought. Probably not the best idea anyway.”

Her lips thinned. “Right. Like any of this is a good idea.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. We both know what’s happening here –”

I cut her off, my voice raising loud enough to make Echo give a warning growl. “I don’t think we do, Emily. I don’t think either of us have any fucking idea what we are doing. I think, no, I
know
you’re just as confused as I am. I’m man enough to admit that whatever is happening here scares the shit out of me, but I can’t make myself walk away. If that’s what you want, I’ll do it. But until I hear you tell me to leave, I’m going to stay right here pretending like this isn’t fucking electric.”

Cutlery clattering was the only noise that split through silence. Not even Echo dared to squeak out a noise. Emily stared at me, chest heaving. The hurt on her face was reflected in a single tear that rimmed her eyes but refused to spill. I braced myself for impact. Words. A palm against my cheek. But nothing but silence persisted. The battle inside me brewed a vicious storm, and I was seconds away from throwing in the towel when she picked up her fork and began eating as if nothing happened.

My voice came out harder than I wanted it to, and I winced at the sharpness. “Emily.”

“What?” She barely glanced up from her plate. “Your food is going to get cold if you don’t finish it soon.”

“Talk to me, Emily.”

Spark. All I wanted was a spark.

“I’m pretending, Tucker. We’ll pretend, okay? Now eat. I only have a few hours with you, and I’d rather not spend them being pissed off because we’re both thinking nonsense.” Faced with my silence, she looked up and quirked her lips to the side. It wasn’t completely natural, but it wasn’t so forced that it looked painful. “Eat. Don’t make me come over there and force you.”

I could play it her way – my way – and forget about the DEFCON 1 conversation that nearly happened. Or I could dive headfirst into whatever was happening.

“Are you going to do the airplane thingy? Because I bet you do some wicked good sound effects.”

Yeah, the pretending. Humor. Deflect away from the gnawing thump in my chest. It was too soon. We were too young. My hours at work, too long. I could barely stand to be around myself for more than a few hours at a time. Wolf. Bear. Miles between us. I knew none of that would matter if I really sat down and thought about it. But I was too selfish and way too damn afraid to think past a few weeks.

“I make the most
badass
sound effects. I’m like a soundboard.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I’m off the clock right now. Check back after I’ve had some ice cream. You might get some crazy sounds out of me.”

“Em, I know all about the crazy sounds you make. Believe me.”

A little pink tinted her cheeks and she looked away, like what I said was something utterly scandalous. After spending most of my afternoon giving her a handful of orgasms, she definitely didn't have any reason to be embarrassed. Especially not when it came to those sexy ass noises she made.

We ate in silence. I couldn’t taste the flavors of the pasta or the hoppy burn of my beer as it slid down my throat. I could tell you about all the grooved patterns that made up the woodwork of her table or identify the exact shade of pale blue of my plate.

The silence wasn’t awkward, but it sure as hell wasn’t comfortable. The zipper imprint on my dick was testament to that. Emily’s natural perfume hit me like a freight train and it didn’t go away the entire time I shoveled my fork to my face. I knew she was exhausted from work and it would be completely shitty of me to expect anything more than a few more hours of companionship, but that didn’t stop either of us from fantasizing over dinner.

I made the decision to let her decide. The ball was in her court, anyway. Honestly, when I hopped on the highway and followed the computerized voice mounted to my windshield all the way to Emily’s driveway, I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know what I was doing, let alone how she would respond to me showing up on her doorstep with some lame ass excuse about returning her wallet.