Shanna tipped back in her seat and rubbed her belly. “That he’s my dad?”
Avery’s mouth dropped open and Tucker laughed. Avery blinked at Shanna, shaking her head. “How’d you guess that? I—you’re right, for one thing. But how did you guess?”
Shanna grinned at Tucker, blue eyes flashing. “Well, we have the same nose. And we both love Animorphs.”
He spent the rest of the day going over every interaction he’d had with Shanna. She did love Animorphs, and her face had lit up when he told her about photography. All those trips would give him even more to tell her about. Wait—all those trips. They came to him in a disconnected trickle as he sat in the living room, playing Uno with Shanna and trying to figure out whether he was more relieved or annoyed. Avery had hidden his daughter from him. He’d lost time with her that he could never get back.
He’d just have to take advantage of the time they had now, he decided.
“What are you thinking about?” Shanna studied his face, cards loosely held in her hands.
“All the trips I’ve been on.” He looked at his own hand of cards. “I can’t wait to tell you about them.”
But the more he told Shanna, the more memories came back. That night, after she was tucked into bed, another memory returned to Tucker. And this time, it tore through his heart. Heavy with regret, he went down the hall to Avery’s room. He found her sitting on the edge of the bed, twisting her hair into a braid.
“I remembered something,” he said softly.
Avery didn’t seem surprised to see him there. She gestured toward the chair she kept in the corner of the room. “You want to talk about it?”
He took the seat, his knees inches from hers. The tank tops she wore to sleep exposed just enough of her skin to drive him wild. He wanted her under his hands again, but there was no way—not until he said what he had to say. He could still feel the sun on his face, though the scene had happened a decade ago. He could still see the hurt in Avery’s eyes and the way her chin quivered.
“I remembered what I said to you. Maybe that was the last fight, but I don’t know.”
“Tucker, you don’t have to—”
“Yeah, I do.” He looked her in the eye. “I said I didn’t want to be dragged down by this town, or a family.” What a mistake. What a terrible mistake. “And I’m sorry about that. I can’t ever take it back, but I had to come here and tell you that I was wrong. I was so wrong. And I don’t feel that way anymore.”
“It was a long time ago.” Avery dropped her hands into her lap.
“To me, it feels like it just happened yesterday. And other things—” He ran a hand through his hair. “There are other things, too. How great we were together. How much we laughed. There was a spark. I know it was real.”
Avery smiled, her cheeks going pink. “I don’t disagree. You want to know what my favorite thing was?”
“Tell me.”
“Stargazing in the back of your truck.” Avery laughed. “It was so uncomfortable. You always brought a thin blanket. But I wanted to be lying next to you so badly, holding your hand.” The smile fled from her face, settling into something hot and serious, and Tucker’s heart prepared itself to fly out of his chest.
“What about now?” He reached out to her, the offer hanging in midair. “Because I tell you what, Avery. I’d hold your hand if you let me.”
She put her hand in his.
Tucker found himself pulling her to her feet and tugging her closer, just to feel the warmth of her between his legs. He slipped his hands over her hips. Oh, she smelled good, like lavender and cotton and the unique scent of her skin. Her hands came down to tilt his face up, and then—he didn’t know how and he didn’t care—her lips were pressed against his, sweet and soft and exactly how he remembered.
It started out tentative, almost like Avery was re-learning how to do it, but after a moment, she leaned in hard, collapsing into his lap with her arms around his neck.
Then everything else disappeared.
She kissed him hot and hard, and Tucker’s entire body bent toward her, his soul aching to be closer. Closer, closer, now. He lifted her and the two of them fell onto the bed together, Avery panting underneath him. He pushed himself up to strip off his shirt, then his jeans—clothes rained down on the rug beneath her bed, and there she was, every inch of her.
He felt a strange urgency, like they didn’t have much time, but still he tried to devour every moment. He ran his hands down her soft skin and over the freckle on the side of her left knee. He bent down and pressed a kiss above each nipple, making her shiver. Avery’s hands scrambled against his skin, her nails digging in, and when he lowered his head to kiss the side of her neck, she arched back and spread her legs for him. Please, her body seemed to beg. And his was happy to oblige.
Avery rocked her hips against his and let out a frustrated groan, then twisted underneath him to reach for the bedside table. She fumbled in a drawer and came up with a condom. “Here.” The longing in her voice echoed in his own heart.
He took it and ripped it open, kneeling above her to roll it on. Avery’s hand on his hip stopped him.
“I missed you,” she whispered.
“I missed you, too.”
Then she yanked him down on top of her, and Tucker was lost to the world. He was lost to everything except the rhythm the two of them made together. It was so familiar—like
