Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
He glances at me over his shoulder. “You know, you got a big mouth for someone so little.”
“I do know.” I fold my arms. “I also know you like it.”
His face splits in a grin. My stomach dips. “Is that so?”
More of his friends show up then. I get to meet Lu, who can’t stop looking at Riley. I briefly meet Tuck’s dad, who looks like a salt-and-pepper version of his son, but sans the tattoos.
Tuck’s mom offers to pick up Katie and take her to her house for the night, so Tuck and I end up spending the entire day at the makeshift wedding venue. And you know what? We do pull off a miracle. Lu and Marianne manage to turn the living room into this fabulously bougie fairy garden, complete with twinkling lights and a “ceiling” of flowers and organza.
Tuck wants to shower before the ceremony, so he drives me home in the golf cart. It’s still raining, although the wind has died down.
“I hope y’all have fun tonight,” I say. I’m tired, but still on a high from accomplishing everything we did.
And yeah, hanging out with Tuck all day didn’t hurt either.
Tuck adjusts his hand on the wheel. God, I love it when guys drive with one hand. “You were awesome today, Maren. I can’t thank you enough. I mean, you busted your ass for people you don’t even know.”
“I know you.” The words hang awkwardly between us, so I rush to add, “And I got to know all your friends and neighbors.”
He glances at me before pulling into his driveway. “You’re really good at that, Maren.”
“At what?”
“Getting to know people. Making them feel comfortable. No wonder Katie’s already obsessed with you.”
My chest squeezes. “That’s high praise, considering it comes from Bald Head’s mayor.”
He laughs, taking the key out of the ignition. “I’m hardly the mayor. Just been around a long time. Here, I’ll grab the umbrella and walk you inside.”
“You don’t—”
“Let me.” His eyes lock on mine. In this light their color is saturated, a viridian shade of green that makes me think of the dense lushness of Bald Head’s maritime forest. “You’ll get soaked.”
There’s a dirty joke in there, but my mind is too fixated on Tuck’s handsomeness to make it. “Okay.”
I watch him climb out of the cart and grab an umbrella from the back, popping it open before jogging to my side of the cart. His shirt is speckled with raindrops.
He holds out a hand. “Careful. It’s slippery.”
I take his hand and he grips my palm firmly, helping me to my feet. His touch makes my skin come alive, a steady spread of energy that feels especially potent in my lips and the tips of my fingers.
He draws me close so I’m underneath the umbrella with him. I drop his hand, my heart seizing at his nearness. Our arms brush. I can smell the cinnamon Altoids on his breath.
The sound of the rain above our heads is deafening.
I shiver.
His eyebrows snap together. “C’mon, let’s get you inside.”
We scurry to the garage’s side entrance, the sleeves of my sweatshirt getting soaked despite Tuck’s best efforts to keep the umbrella over my head. He whips open the door and ushers me inside.
“Thanks.” The word comes out breathlessly. I blush, embarrassed.
“You good?”
I begin to peel off my sweatshirt, mostly to avoid looking at him. He looks so good all wet and casually dressed and big, I’m not sure I trust myself right now. “I’m fine. Go have fun.”
“Thanks again for helping out today.”
“Happy to. Harbour Village is a special place.”
“It can be, yeah.”
I yank the sweatshirt over my head and drape it over my arm. I open my eyes and—damn it—I’m looking at Tuck again, and he’s looking at me. His gaze travels slowly over my T-shirt and shorts, stopping to linger on my legs before moving up to my chest. When he meets my eyes, his look is different. Less green, more . . . gold. Like they’re literally on fire.
My body pulses, hard.
So hard that I shiver again.
Before I know what’s happening, Tuck is closing the umbrella and dropping it on the ground and stepping inside.
Stepping into me, our chests brushing as he runs his hands up my arms. “Jesus Christ, Maren, look at these goosebumps. Go take a hot shower and put on some warm clothes.”
My brain short-circuits. The feel of his hands on me—those eyes, they’re full of fire and concern—ask him to come in, I don’t know how much more I can take—
“Okay,” I manage.
He ducks his head, lips quirking. “I don’t see you moving.”
“I’m, um, going. I’ll move.” But I only manage to raise my chin, bringing our mouths that much closer.
His eyes flick to my lips. His hands move more slowly on my arms.
His eyes move back to mine. Silence, hot and full, pools between us.