Tucker's Crossing (27 page)

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Authors: Marina Adair

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Tucker's Crossing
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“You bet. I know the coach. We went to school together. Saves me seats on the fifty-yard line. But since we’re here, I’m thinking we’d start off with a game of our own, maybe order pizza for dinner, video games until midnight. What do you say?”

“That sounds awesome.”

“Jake,” Shelby said, her eyes on Cody. “Can you go upstairs and pack your things for Ryan’s?”

Jakes entire face fell, making her feel like the meanest mom in the world, which she was sure was his intention. “But Cody said I could—”

“I heard and I am asking you to go upstairs and pack. Ryan is expecting you.”

“But—”

“You heard your mom, partner. Go on.” The words were supportive, but his tone was somehow backhanded.

Jake nodded, his lip quivering ever so slightly, just enough to make Shelby’s eyes burn. He mumbled something under his breath and tore up the stairs, stomping the entire way.

Shelby turned on Cody. “What was that?” It came out harsher than she intended. Okay, it had the exact sting she was going for.

“You mean me trying to spend time with my son?” Cody looked equally as pissed.

Shelby crossed her arms. “No, I mean you all but bribing
our
son into wanting to move.”

“I was telling him that someday I’d like to take him to see the Longhorns play. He likes football, I have a friend that could hook us up. It would be fun.”

“And makes you and Austin look shiny to a kid who lives in a small town.”

“Anything is shiny compared to this town.”

Shelby wanted to give him a liar-liar-pants-on-fire glare, but her whole eye was twitching now.

“Fine,” he relented. “Maybe I wanted to impress him. And in Austin I’m pretty impressive.”

“Cody, you’re impressive, period. You’re his father and he already loves you. He might not show it yet, but he does.”

“Impressive, huh?” Cody stepped closer and her legs wobbled.

“Yes, but this”—she said, pointing between the two of them—“won’t work if we aren’t on the same page. Seriously, Cody, I can’t be worried that you’ll try to persuade him one way or the other. Him growing up here is a good thing. But no matter what we decide, him in the middle is not okay. I need to know that you understand that.”

“And you need to understand that the benefits of small-town living are not all that people make them out to be. And the thought of JT growing up here—” Cody shook his head. “It’s not going to happen, Shelby Lynn. I will do whatever I have to do to convince you two otherwise.”

She stared at him, her heart clenching. His voice was calm but somehow she felt that he’d threatened her. “This isn’t about big versus small. It’s about Jake and what’s best for him. Remember, the big picture? He’ll be a fourth-grader next year. To move him now, after he’s finally settled in, would be mean.”

“Look,” Cody sighed. “I don’t want to fight, not after last night. Can we shelve this for later?”

He spoke so gently it made her think that maybe she’d imagined the whole threat a moment ago. Getting him to stay would be hard, but if he didn’t face his past, then he’d never be able to enjoy the future fully. Plus, Jake belonged here. And so did Cody; he just didn’t know it yet.

Even though they’d made progress, and she had twelve whole months to convince him Sweet Plains was a good choice, she felt she’d been sent back to “Start.”

“And for the record, I’m not trying to cut into your time with him. I want the two of you to connect. It’s just Ryan’s dad was planning on taking the boys to the movies and I don’t want Ryan to be disappointed.”

“I want to be the one to take him to the movies.” Cody took her hands in his, looking beyond disappointed. “Why didn’t you just ask me to watch him?”

“I don’t know, habit I guess. I thought you’d be busy or . . . I’m sorry, Cody. You’re right. It won’t happen again.”

“Deal. And next time I’ll check with you first before I suggest plans to him.” Cody smiled and she found herself smiling back. “What if I call Ryan’s dad and see if we both can’t take the boys to the movies? A fatherson night on the town ending with pie and ice cream at The B-Cubed.”

“That’s one way to get rid of Ms. Luella,” Shelby giggled. “And I think a little guy-time is a good idea, but are you sure? I won’t be back until tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” He raised a hand to cup the back of her head and pull her gently to him. “See, a compromise. That wasn’t so hard.”

Her smile faded. Did he think this was a game? She wanted to tell him where he could shove his compromise but his mouth was warm and soft on hers and then the urge was gone.

“How are you holding up? After last night.”

Instead of smacking his chest, Shelby found herself scooting closer and her anger fading as his arm wrapped around her and his body welcomed her. Being a dad was new to him and they were both bound to make some mistakes. As long as those mistakes didn’t affect Jake, they’d manage just fine.

“I’m all right. Thanks for bringing some of my things into your room. I really didn’t want to go back in there this morning.”

But, “thanks” didn’t even begin to explain what she felt. Even though she hadn’t been surprised by the empty bed, she was taken aback when she found half of the closet and drawers filled with her things. Shocked that the other half was filled with his. And moved at seeing their belongings side by side, as if something permanent was taking place.

“I didn’t want you to have to go back in there either. At least until I get it cleaned up. But I should’ve thought to bring out your work scrubs.”

Shelby tugged at her bears-with-balloons top. “I always keep an extra set in my car. If you can’t tell, tonight I’m in the maternity ward.”

“If you can’t tell, tonight I want you in my bed,” he whispered, his lips grazing her ear. “And not just because I want to make love to you, but because I’m afraid to let you out of my sight. Since I know you’re too stubborn to stay home, how about I drop you off on the way to the movies and pick you up tomorrow.”

“How about I drive myself and I’ll be just fine driving home in the morning.” The last thing she wanted was for him to start getting protective; it would only lead to her feeling smothered. But she was not stubborn. “I do feel better knowing that Jake will be here, with you.”

“And who will be with you?”

“About thirty nurses and doctors. Not to mention a dozen or so pregnant women and their overly eager, borderline disruptive, family members.”

Cody’s hand dropped to her belly, palming it gently. Her body started tingling just remembering the things he’d done to her last night.

“Did you—I mean, were you . . .” He looked up, his dark eyes seeming shadowed with regret. “Did you have problems when you were pregnant?”

Shelby was so thrown by his change of direction, she stumbled a little. “Um . . . no. I had a pretty normal pregnancy.” She let go of a little laugh. “Jake thought it was a race and there was no way he was going to keep his mama waiting. My water broke and he practically popped out. Two more minutes of traffic and he would have been born in the San Francisco Memorial parking lot.”

“It’s a Tucker thing,” Cody joked. Shelby watched his hand trace back and forth over her abdomen, his eyes riveted on her belly as if imagining what she’d looked like pregnant. With his hand still on her he looked up. “Tell me something about it.”

Shelby swallowed, unsure of what he was looking for and getting too emotional for her own good. “I had a thing for okra. Pickled okra. I ate it all day long. Can’t stand to even look at it now, but when I was pregnant I ate it by the jar full.”

Cody smiled. And Shelby got scared. What were they doing? Everything about the last twenty-four hours was blurring the lines she’d fought so hard to define. And here she was talking with him about Jake’s birth, wanting this relationship to be real, wanting him to say that it was real and she wasn’t just Jake’s plus-one.

Shelby extracted herself from Cody’s arms. “I um . . . have to run errands before I go to the hospital. But I can have Ms. Luella look after Jake until you’re done with work.”

If Cody noticed her sudden shift, he didn’t let on. “I’m done. My whole day is open and I’m happy to spend it with JT.”

“He wants nothing more than to spend the day being a guy with you. This way I don’t feel like I’m schlepping him off to one of his friends again. And I won’t have to worry about him tonight.”

Cody tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “What did you do before? When you were in California?”

“Um, well, I didn’t work.” Shelby felt embarrassed and his perplexed expression didn’t help. “Preston liked me at home.”

“I see.” Cody’s jaw clenched and in that moment she knew he saw more than she’d intended. Then he cupped her cheek and said the most surprising, wonderful thing. “I’m sorry, Shelby Lynn. For not being there. For you having to raise JT alone. And for Preston wanting you home. I know how hard you worked to get that degree and how much being a nurse means to you.”

This time, damn her out-of-control emotions, she kissed him. Long and slow, leaving them both panting, their foreheads pressed together.

“What time do you get off tomorrow?”

“Why, are you going to come and drag me to bed?” she joked, happy to be back to an emotion she could deal with, horniness.

“I was thinking JT and I could meet you for breakfast, take you to The B-Cubed. I could bring one of the guys to drive your car home.” She hesitated and he pulled back. “Or not.”

It was scary to rely on someone else. But wasn’t that what she’d asked of him, to be a dad to Jake? Maybe it was time to give Cody the chance to be the kind of man he’d promised he would be. She just hoped, for all their sakes, that he didn’t let them down.

“No, that sounds perfect.”

Mable’s Corner Market wasn’t on a corner and it wasn’t like any kind of market Shelby had ever been to. Situated in the middle of the block, down the street from The B-Cubed and on the north side of Laurel Avenue, it was the oldest building in Sweet Plains. The storefront consisted of alternating white-and blue-painted wooden slats, two bright red barn doors, and a gigantic, patriotic bull, which for four quarters you could ride.

It was the only market in town and today it was packed. Shelby drove around three times before she finally found a spot. Unless she wanted to drive forty minutes to the nearest Walmart, Mable’s would have to do. She needed to get some baking powder, which, thanks to Ms. Luella, she was out of, and muffin tins for her cupcakes. It was also the perfect opportunity to ask Mable to be her second judge. Okay, she wasn’t averse to pleading with the woman.

Mable was one of the oldest residents in Sweet Plains and known for hard-balling customers. Surely a woman who sold whiskey by the barrel in what used to be a dry county could withstand the pressure from the notorious blue-ribbon Gestapo.

Shelby locked her car, breaking out in a sweat by the time she made her way to the front. A collection of rocking chairs lined the wall, a good handful of them occupied by men with pipes, sipping sweet tea, and playing cards.

“Evening, darling,” said Woodrow Rayborn, the town’s mortician and a man who seemed to shrink with every passing day. He and his wife, Esther, had been a blessing after Silas passed, helping Shelby with all of the funeral arrangements. “Don’t you look cute as a bug’s ear in that getup.”

Her “getup” being maternity-ward scrubs and orthopedic shoes.

“Where’s Esther tonight?”

“At home. I offered to pick up a few groceries on the way.”

Shelby took in the lack of bags and handful of cards, and smiled. “Doesn’t look like you’ve gotten all that far.”

“Working my way up to actually going in. You here for your cupcake fixings?”

“Yeah,” Shelby said, a little confused. “How did you know about my cupcakes?”

“Whole town knows, darling.” Woodrow laid down the winning hand and piled up the chips, grinning the whole time.

The rest of the group, Shelby noticed, wasn’t paying any attention to the game because they seemed to be—creepy as it was to think about it—staring . . . at her boobs? Shelby clutched her cook-off file to her chest, and all the men sighed, looking awfully disappointed. Simultaneously, they dropped their attention back to the game. Then she had an idea.

“Look, seeing as how you men all like to eat . . .” All six sets of eyes jumped to hers. What man didn’t like food? Free food? Maybe she’d get her some judges after all. “The cook-off is right around the corner and—”

“Doctor Morgan’s got me on a strict diet,” Wyatt, a retired tractor repairman, interrupted. And none too nicely.

“Dr. Morgan is a physical therapist,” Shelby challenged.

“Chilies give me the heartburn, Shelby. You know that,” Bub scolded.

She didn’t know anything of the sort. Actually, she’d seen Bub, a part-timer at The Crossing, eat tubs of Luella’s chili. But she decided not to press the issue, especially when each man gave some lame excuse as to why he couldn’t possibly eat chili.

“My Esther plays cards with Ms. Luella on Sundays and is in some quilting club with Mrs. McKinney on Thursdays. And since I’ve had every kind of, well, what my wife
calls
chili, this week, I figure she’s fixing on entering. So for the sake of my marriage, and my digestive tract, I’ll have to politely decline.”

“Yes, well, thank you for the honesty, Woodrow.” Shelby eyed the other men, who hung their head like kids caught putting chalk in the teacher’s coffee. Kenny, the only one who hadn’t spoken yet, just smiled his excuse, proudly displaying his tooth problem. He didn’t have any. Not a one.

Shelby shoved her purse higher on her shoulder, and mumbled her good-byes, then hurried into the store.

Grabbing a cart, she headed toward the eggs, noting how everyone ducked and scrambled when they caught sight of her, the cook-off coordinator, coming their way. It made for quick shopping, not to mention a bruised self-esteem.

She passed the produce section and was rounding the baking goods when she turned and saw two older women, hunched over shopping carts, charging at each other in a geriatric version of jousting.

Mable stood in the middle, holding a cucumber and swinging a bunch of carrots by their tops, like a clown at a rodeo trying to corral the bull back into the pen. Too bad she had two bulls to herd.

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