I breathed slowly, trying not to let that train of thought hurtle recklessly through my head. I pulled my hand out of his and crossed my arms over my bare midriff.
Stupid shredded shirt.
Tucker gave me a look of pained understanding, and then shrugged his unbuttoned dress shirt off his shoulders and handed it to me. I’d never grabbed anything faster. My fingers were practically shaking as I did up a few buttons. It swamped me, almost covering the hem of my shorts, but I could’ve cared less.
His mom looked even more lost now than when she showed up, and I couldn’t blame her. In some ways, my heart broke for her too, because she clearly loved her son, even if it wasn’t her place to question our relationship.
We’d had weeks to process everything, warm up to the way people might view us, the wrinkles we needed to get past, and essentially, we just dumped her into a boiling pot without warning.
The problem was, we’d been increasing the heat without thinking, without realizing it, with everything that went unsaid. My brother’s words echoed through my head, as Tucker searched for what to say to his mother.
All you’re doing is sitting in secrets.
His.
Mine.
Mrs. Haywood held up her hands. “I’m gonna leave you two to talk, but Tucker, I can tell something’s wrong, and I wish you’d talk to me. Or your father.”
“I,” he started, then exhaled heavily. “I will.”
She came up to him, and he let go of my hand to wrap her in a hug. “Nothing, and no one, is more important to us than you, Tucker Ames. No client, no business, no job. You are our son, and we love you.”
He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes. “Love you too.”
What I would have given for my camera in that moment. The way he held her, the look on her face, it did funny things to my heart to be able to see this side of him. It was so strange, even though the entire situation was unfolding with more and more ickiness, I still wanted to find those beautiful things. Wanted to seek out the parts that were good.
Which was probably why I ignored the warning flags that got us here in the first place.
His mom glanced at me, and I saw her embarrassment. I averted my eyes, so I didn’t look like I was staring.
It wasn’t a moment I was allowed into, and objectively, I understood why. But that didn’t mean it was easy to feel like I was an interloper. An intruder giving the moment an edge of discomfort.
Her voice was watery when she spoke. “J.T. can go screw himself if he thinks he can ruin us this easily.”
My forehead creased in confusion, and when Tucker’s eyes flicked guiltily to me, I knew this conversation was far from over.
Something … something pulled dangerously at the back of my head. A loose thread that I’d been ignoring, because I loved him so much.
Loved him to distraction, maybe.
When she pulled back, she gave me a polite smile. “It was nice to meet you, Grace.”
I did my very best to clear my face of anything that didn’t involve this moment, and her. I must have succeeded because her eyes were warmed. Just a touch. “You too, Mrs. Haywood.”
“I better see you at the house soon, young man. You have some explaining to do.”
He ducked his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
She left the garage calmly, even though the color on her cheeks was high when she got into her car. With one more smile, and a curious look in my direction, she left.
Neither one of us spoke until her car turned out of sight and onto the main road.
I kept my eyes trained on the end of the driveway, because if I looked at him, I was afraid of what I’d say, or do, stemming from a place of hurt, afraid of what I’d overlook because my heart called to him so strongly.
“What did she mean about J.T.?” I asked. “What did he do?”
Tucker sighed, and that thread unraveled further, like a ball of yarn that got yanked too fast out of a basket.
“Grace, I didn’t know how to tell you.” He came to stand in front of me, and I kept my gaze eye level, right at his chest. “I didn’t want you to feel guilty, because it’s not your fault.”
Finally, I looked at him. “What happened?”
His jaw clenched. Even now, he didn’t want to say it, whatever it was. I could sympathize, because I’d rolled words around in my head for days.
“He found different legal representation. A few people in his family did the same.” He wrapped his hands around my upper arms, sliding his grip up and down, like he was soothing me. “It … it’s a big chunk of our monthly revenue is all.”
I nodded slowly, little dominoes clicking into place in my head. “That’s what Maxine was asking you about at the library?”
“Yes.”
My stomach felt cold. “And that’s why you lied to me when I asked you what happened?”
“I didn’t,” he started, only to receive a warning look from me. He held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you.”
I exhaled a hard-edged laugh when I thought about my conversation with my brother. My brother, who made comments about how dangerous J.T. was. How there were people who needed to be careful. About small-town politics and the law firm.
My brother knew. And I didn’t. Because my boyfriend didn’t tell me.
“Because you thought I’d feel guilty,” I added. I couldn’t believe how I sounded. Detached, robotic.
Unemotional.
I’d never been accused of anything near that in my entire life. Normally, I felt like I was driving an out of control carriage, clinging to the reins with a death grip.
“Grace.” He took a small step toward me, and I held up my hand.
“No, hang on.” I searched his eyes. “I’m trying to understand. Your dad told you this
