Page 57 of The Art of Falling in Love with Your Enemy
Tuck puts his coffee mug down on the side table. “You mean it?”
I shrug my shoulders and smile. “I do.”
Tuck stands, petting both dogs at his feet before he does. “He really likes you, Etta, and I’m not just saying that.”
Looking into Tuck’s eyes, I can see he’s telling the truth. I squeeze his arm as we walk in tandem to the front door. “Thank you for coming here tonight. How did you find me, anyway?”
“Small towns.” Tuck chuckles. “I called the police station and explained to Lane what I wanted to do, so he told me where Thor lives.”
“Ah.” Glancing over my shoulder, I see my escape artist as he settles in his dog bed by the fireplace for the night. “I need to talk to Lane about privacy…”
“You can give him grief all you want, but let’s keep this visit between us, okay?” Tuck’s smile is as sheepish as his posture. “Especially if you come to the charity ball. I don’t want Zac to be more mad at me than he already is.”
I eye him suspiciously before nodding my head in agreement. “I’ll keep it a secret, for now.”
The night air suddenly chills as I watch Tuck make his way back to his car. My skin is covered with goosebumps along the flesh of my arms, opposite hands flying up to rub my skin and generate some heat. I make a mental note to start the fire as soon as I go inside.
I’m about to turn around when Tuck calls out to me from his car. “Hey, you know you never said if you were still going to go with Zac to the charity ball?”
“No, I didn’t, did I?” Looking at Tuck, a devilish grin takes over my features and a thrill rushes through my veins. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”
With a flick of my wrist, I wave goodbye to Tuck and head back inside before he has a chance to retort. I still don’t know if I’m going, mostly because I’m not sure what it’ll mean if I do.
Will it mean I forgive Zac and I’m ready to try a date with him? Or will we just have a fun night together and that’s it? Or do I stay home and we can all go back to how we were and pretend none of this ever happened?
Yeah. That last idea is terrible.
Closing the door behind me, I walk into the kitchen and reheat my dinner, only to start laughing. Zac and Tuck and their little bet. Boys may be boys, but these two boys seem to have learned a lesson.
Yes, don’t mess with women is one part of this, but also…don’t mess with me.
TWENTY-FOUR
Zac
“So, this is where she’s supposed to meet you?”
Tuck stands next to me outside of the charity ball under the wisteria-draped entrance. Around us, people mill about, wandering in and out of the venue, which is an old historical hotel ballroom on the edge of Sweetkiss Creek. Couples walk arm in arm, smiling, and to be honest, it’s kind of hurting my heart.
I’ve stood here for the last thirty minutes, waiting for Etta to arrive. I’d tried one last-ditch attempt earlier today to get ahold of her, but she still isn’t answering my calls, so I texted her to let her know I’d be right here at the main door waiting for her if she still wanted to be my date.
I glance at my watch as Tuck shifts his weight from one foot to the other, shoving his hands in his pockets as he sighs and cranes his neck, looking around. “Are you sure she’s coming?”
“No, I’m not sure. I asked her to meet me here at eight.” My palms are slick and my mouth is dry. I flag down a server, requesting a glass of water. He promises to find me one and runs off as I wipe my hands on my suit.
“Eight?” Tuck’s voice is incredulous as he rolls his eyes. “We’ve been out here since seven-fifteen.”
I can feel my brother’s gaze as he watches me. “I didn’t want to not be out here when…if…no,whenshe shows up.”
Tuck nods before he reaches into his jacket, pulling a small envelope out of it. A small familiar-looking envelope. In fact, if my eyes don’t deceive me, it’s the envelope which I know holds that stupid baseball card.
“I want to give you this.” He thrusts the envelope in my direction.
I look at the envelope clutched in his grasp. “Why now? Don’t you want to wait to see if she shows up before you part with your dear beloved card?”
“Don’t throw it all back on me. I may have suggested the bet, but you took it.” Taking my arm, he palms the envelope into my hand, squeezing it a few times before he wraps his arms around me and gives me a quick hug. “This card is yours. It’s worth some money, you know, so…I don’t know. Go crazy. Sell it and use the money to win back your woman—you can buy a lot of flower arrangements with the profits from selling that card to a collector.”
Opening the envelope, I pull the baseball card out to look at it, flipping it over front to back. To think something this small could be worth so much money. Sliding it back into the envelope, I keep it clutched in my hand for the time being.
