"Magnolia and I are no longer seeing each other, Mrs. Buchanan." His chin lifted. "Not that I need to defend my actions, but I'd hope you know me well enough to know that I'd never touch your niece if I weren't available to do so."
I pulled my legs up to my chest and hid my burgeoning smile into my knees. I loved the way he spoke, loved the way it sounded in his accent. There was an old-fashioned quality to the way he chose his words, and that made me want to rip his clothes off all over again.
Until my aunt caught sight of my expression. "Do we need to talk about safe sex, young lady?"
Smile gone. "Nope. I'm … we're good. I'm good."
Aunt Fran turned to Tucker and sighed. "Well, I'm certainly sorry I interrupted, because I won't get that picture out of my head for the rest of my life, to be sure." She rubbed her forehead. "I don't even remember why I came out here now. Lord, I'm losing my mind."
Tucker smiled at me. "I should go anyway. I've got an early day tomorrow."
I'll admit it, I pouted. And when he saw my lower lip push out, his grin spread until the skin around his eyes crinkled into handsome lines.
"Don't let me run you off," Aunt Fran said. "I can make myself scarce."
"It's fine, Mrs. Buchanan." He leaned over me and dropped a kiss on the top of my head. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
I nodded up at him.
It was too easy to imagine, based on his facial expression, that I was a living heart-eye emoji. I'd turned into a human swoon. I wanted nothing more than to hear him call me Angry Girl, or Pretty Girl, or any other variation he could come up with based on my mood.
"Night," he said, winking as he straightened.
"G'night, Tucker," Aunt Fran said as he left. Before she could turn around and face me, I covered my face with a throw pillow until I felt her sit next to me. Her hand tugged on the corner of the pillow, and she chuckled at whatever she saw on my face. "It takes a lot to surprise me, Grace Bailey."
I sighed. "I know."
"I thought you hated him?"
"I did." I shrugged. "And then I didn't."
She gave me a considering look. "Did you forget how to work a lock on the door when you stopped hating him?"
I laughed. "Sorry about that. I wasn't … expecting company."
"So he broke up with Magnolia MacIntyre … for you." It wasn't a question. Because she saw the answer clear as day, as he had me squirming restlessly underneath him on the couch when she walked in. Two minutes later, and she would've probably seen much, much more of both of us.
I nodded slowly. "Seems so."
Aunt Fran whistled. "And that made you not hate him anymore?"
"No." I sighed, playing with the edge of the pillows. "I not-hated him before he broke up with her. He wasn't aware of it though."
"What happened?"
"The curse happened."
Her face went blank with shock. "But you … you hated him. I saw it."
I slung an arm over her shoulder. "Aunt Fran, prepare to have your mind blown, because we've got ourselves a sexist curse in this family."
Chapter 43 Tucker
It seemed lately that my life worked only because of a checks and balances system. A scale, just like the one that Lady Justice held, now dictated my personal life, like it had dictated my professional one. You relieve weight from one side, and the other will sink. Add weight to balance it, and the scales evened out.
I met the most fascinating woman I'd ever met in my entire life, except I had a serious girlfriend.
I no longer had a girlfriend, but my job imploded because of that, thereby trapping me into a strange limbo where I couldn't admit that I was with the new fascinating woman.
That's how it had been since I broke up with Magnolia, I thought, rubbing my sleep-deprived eyes. Trying to figure out a way to keep the scales balanced, keep them afloat.
When I got to work that morning, it was with a smile on my face and a bounce in my step. Enough that my mom smiled in return behind her desk. "Well goodness, what's got you in such a good mood?"
I kissed her on the cheek. "It's a beautiful day, Momma. That's all."
Her eyes held a tinge of worry at my mood, but she didn't question it as I passed through the waiting room and into my office.
They knew I broke up with Magnolia, but not about Grace. If Francine's reaction the night before was any indication, or Grace's for that matter, this was a transition that needed to be handled with tact and consideration.
Sitting at my desk, staring up at the map on the ceiling, I closed my eyes and conjured Grace's face when she told me she didn't want to be a rebound. I had to rub a hand over my heart, because it did strange flips in my chest when I thought about it. The thought of her eyes when she admitted that, of her kiss, her body underneath mine, the way I couldn't move my hands hard enough or touch enough of her skin, the way I wanted to wrap myself around her and stay just like that the whole night.
There it was again, the uneven chugging of my heart.
Not a heart attack.
Not a stroke.
It was quite possible, that for the first time, I was love-sick.
When I pulled out my phone to send her a text, I found one waiting for me, and I couldn't stop the pleased puff of my chest when I read her words.
Angry Girl: I've been lying in bed all morning, thinking about what I'd do to you if you were here with me. Thinking about the way you kissed me.
Angry Girl: You've made me into a cliche, and I'm kinda mad at
