Nearly every single bit of space on the wall with the bathroom door had a colourful macramé hanging pinned on it. They were pretty, and well-constructed. It wasn’t that they were gaudy…
Okay, with that many, it was no longer charming, but slightly ridiculous.
Tucker hadn’t said anything the day before, but now it was impossible to resist. “You’ve taken up arts and crafts in your spare time?”
Ashton put the kettle on, pulled out a pack of beef jerky and threw it on the table. “They’re gifts. How the hell do you tell someone to stop giving you things?”
Tucker sat himself at the table. “You tell themthank you, but stop?”
“Sure. Tell me you’d say that to Emma. ‘Please stop drawing pictures to put on my fridge.’”
“Emma did not make the macramé,” Tucker drawled.
“Annoying woman,” Ashton grumbled.
Which answered the next question Tucker would’ve asked. There was only one female Ashton described in that tone of voice. Ivy’s grandmother, Sonora Fallen. Matriarch of the local Fields family and perpetual pain in Ashton’s side.
“You should just admit you like Sonora,” Tucker said.
“I’ll confess if you do the same,” Ashton shot back instantly.
Oh, hell.His uncle was not talking about Tucker confessing to an admiration for Sonora.
Tucker attempted to play innocent. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His uncle glared. “Don’t waste my time pretending you haven’t been mooning over Ginny Stone since she grew up. Plus, I’m damn sure that sometime in the past years that mooning became more than just wishful thinking.”
Not the comment Tucker had expected. Not from his uncle, at least.
At some point he figured Kelli, or maybe Tamara, would ask some pointed questions, because too many times that day alone he’d caught himself gazing obsessively at Ginny whenever she was around.
But his uncle?Hell.
Tucker leaned back and stretched out his legs. “Surprised you’re not warning me off.”
“So you admit it?”
Tucker nodded. He held up a hand quickly. “But nothing happened between us until she was old enough. I wouldn’t do anything improper. I swear it.”
A very unexpected snort escaped Ashton. “Son, that’s the last thing you need to reassure me on. I’m pretty damn sure she seduced you.”
Well, fuck. “What?” Tucker shook his head. “No. Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”
His uncle looked far too amused. “If you don’t have it on your calendar in triplicate, it doesn’t happen. And that girl is a pile of trouble— Correction. Thatwomanis a pile of trouble, and she’s always known her own mind. I’m not about to read you the riot act when you’re both grown adults who can make your own decisions.”
Thank goodness for small mercies. May as well straight up admit to one part then—not the sex, though.
Tucker shrugged. “Yes, I like her. More than like her. If it were possible, I’d be doing what I could to make things between us a reality.”
A confession he had never expected to make to this man. Ashton had always been a good uncle, but this wasn’t the type of conversation they usually indulged in.
“That’s what I figured. So as a part of that dreaming Caleb just talked about, I have a proposal for you.”
Curious. Tucker leaned his elbows on the table. “Go on.”
“Since I know you like to have things plotted out well in advance, an annoying habit you got from your parents that has persisted in spite of all my attempts to break you of it, bust out your spreadsheets and get working on this.” Ashton folded his arms over his chest. “You’re right. I am interested in Sonora” —he stuck a finger in Tucker’s face— “and you are not to repeat that toanyone. But that means at some point I want to be ready to do the next thing.”
“Makes sense. What does that have to do with me? Or Ginny? Or spreadsheets?”