Page 67 of Coming Home Country
His simple touch allowed my mind to settle enough for darkness to pull me under.
Chapter 18
Bex
“I’llwalkyoutothe door.” Tucker eyed the main house on Sullivan Ranch through the windshield of his truck.
I stopped him before he could hop out. “Probably best if you don’t. We already caused enough of a stir with the dramatic chase scene after dinner last night. No need to add to it.”
He folded his lips inward and nodded in understanding, but I could see it written on his face that he thought I was ashamed of him, of any potential speculation swirling around us after last night.
That was the furthest thing from the truth.
“It’s Aspen and Mac’s day, remember?”
A wry laugh sounded. “How could I forget? My phone’s been blowing up since 6 AM because the groom has zero chill.”
I leaned over the center console, pressing a kiss to his lips. His annoyance was quickly forgotten as he snaked a hand around my neck to keep me close, his tongue demanding entry. It would be hours before we saw each other again, so I opened for him, wishing we had more time before our official wedding duties began.
Gently pressing on his chest, I pulled back, breathless. “Then you should probably get over to the cabin.”
Tucker grumbled, “If his texts are anything to go by, he’s probably bouncing off the walls.”
My hand came up to cup his cheek. “He’s marrying the woman he loves today. Cut him a little slack.”
“Fine.” I couldn’t help but smile at his sullen tone.
“See you later?” It was a silly question, one I already knew the answer to, but I felt compelled to ask it anyway.
“’Course. You’re my date.” Heat curled through my insides at his claiming statement, but the inferno reached a fever pitch when his eyes darkened, and his voice grew husky. “But you can forget about me being a gentleman when I take you home tonight.”
I barely managed to bite back a moan.
God, yes.
“Best get inside before I change my mind about letting you out of my sight this morning and throw this truck in reverse,” he warned.
Unable to break his intense stare, I reached for the door handle blindly. It took three attempts, but I finally managed to snag it and hop out of the vehicle.
Before I could do something crazy, like take him up on his offer to beat it the hell outta here and spend the morning together, I pushed the truck door closed and hustled my butt up the front porch steps.
The urge to peek back was strong. I knew he was watching me walk away; he wouldn’t leave until he ensured I made it safely inside. Putting us both out of our misery, I pushed into the house, praying I could sneak up the stairs without notice.
Latching the door, I finally heard gravel crunching beneath tires as Tucker drove toward the cabin tucked deeper onto the property.
My chest expanded as I pulled in a deep breath, mentally preparing to center my focus on Aspen for the next few hours until she legally became Mrs. Macallan Blaze.
That idea went up in smoke when a voice behind me said, “Lookie who’s marching in the just-got-laid parade.”
My eyes slammed shut. I was so busted.
Turning around, I came face-to-face with Aspen’s meemaw, whose grin stretched from ear to ear. Her glee at having caught me couldn’t be contained.
Given my appearance—wearing Tucker’s oversized T-shirt and sweatpants with my dress from last night bundled beneath one arm—there was no use in denying her assumption, even though I hadn’t officially gotten laid.
And because I needed a greater audience, Daisy rounded the corner from the kitchen to correct her mother-in-law. “I think the kids call it the walk of shame.”
Betsy Sullivan wrinkled her nose. “I like mine better. There’s no shame in a woman getting hers. As long as it was consensual, of course.” Her blue eyes narrowed on me. “It was consensual, wasn’t it, dear?”
