the first place.
His mom glanced at me, and I saw her embarrassment. I averted my eyes, so I didn’t look like I was staring.
It wasn’t a moment I was allowed into, and objectively, I understood why. But that didn’t mean it was easy to feel like I was an interloper. An intruder giving the moment an edge of discomfort.
Her voice was watery when she spoke. “J.T. can go screw himself if he thinks he can ruin us this easily.”
My forehead creased in confusion, and when Tucker’s eyes flicked guiltily to me, I knew this conversation was far from over.
Something … something pulled dangerously at the back of my head. A loose thread that I’d been ignoring, because I loved him so much.
Loved him to distraction, maybe.
When she pulled back, she gave me a polite smile. “It was nice to meet you, Grace.”
I did my very best to clear my face of anything that didn’t involve this moment, and her. I must have succeeded because her eyes were warmed. Just a touch. “You too, Mrs. Haywood.”
“I better see you at the house soon, young man. You have some explaining to do.”
He ducked his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
She left the garage calmly, even though the color on her cheeks was high when she got into her car. With one more smile, and a curious look in my direction, she left.
Neither one of us spoke until her car turned out of sight and onto the main road.
I kept my eyes trained on the end of the driveway, because if I looked at him, I was afraid of what I’d say, or do, stemming from a place of hurt, afraid of what I’d overlook because my heart called to him so strongly.
“What did she mean about J.T.?” I asked. “What did he do?”
Tucker sighed, and that thread unraveled further, like a ball of yarn that got yanked too fast out of a basket.
“Grace, I didn’t know how to tell you.” He came to stand in front of me, and I kept my gaze eye level, right at his chest. “I didn’t want you to feel guilty, because it’s not your fault.”
Finally, I looked at him. “What happened?”
His jaw clenched. Even now, he didn’t want to say it, whatever it was. I could sympathize, because I’d rolled words around in my head for days.
“He found different legal representation. A few people in his family did the same.” He wrapped his hands around my upper arms, sliding his grip up and down, like he was soothing me. “It … it’s a big chunk of our monthly revenue is all.”
I nodded slowly, little dominoes clicking into place in my head. “That’s what Maxine was asking you about at the library?”
“Yes.”
My stomach felt cold. “And that’s why you lied to me when I asked you what happened?”
“I didn’t,” he started, only to receive a warning look from me. He held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you.”
I exhaled a hard-edged laugh when I thought about my conversation with my brother. My brother, who made comments about how dangerous J.T. was. How there were people who needed to be careful. About small-town politics and the law firm.
My brother knew. And I didn’t. Because my boyfriend didn’t tell me.
“Because you thought I’d feel guilty,” I added. I couldn’t believe how I sounded. Detached, robotic.
Unemotional.
I’d never been accused of anything near that in my entire life. Normally, I felt like I was driving an out of control carriage, clinging to the reins with a death grip.
“Grace.” He took a small step toward me, and I held up my hand.
“No, hang on.” I searched his eyes. “I’m trying to understand. Your dad told you this morning that he was retiring, because you can’t afford two full-time lawyers, because your ex-girlfriend’s father, and a few of his relatives, pulled their business. Do I have that right?”
Tucker nodded. His jaw was still tight, his gaze unwavering.
“And you wanted me to meet you here so that you could have an outlet for that frustration that didn’t involve you just … talking to me about it.”
“Grace, please.” He reached for me again, and I stepped back.
“Think about the last thirty minutes,” I said as evenly as I could. It was so hard to speak calmly, because once I opened the door on that thought, on everything that just happened, I felt a maelstrom whip up dangerously inside of me.
The last thirty minutes. The last three weeks. The perfect storm to poke at