Rumor Going 'Round (Lyrics and Love #3) - Lind, Samantha Page 0,61

did the same thing at my parents' house. Are you ready for Nona and Papa’s?”

“Yeah, but I’m not hungry. Do I have to have more turkey?” she questions.

“Only if you want to, but I’m sure that Nona has made your favorite potatoes,” Tucker tells her.

“Okay.” She sighs, and I can tell that she’s already tired from today's events.

“Maybe the two of us can sneak away from everyone when we get to Nona and Papa’s and take a little nap. I’m feeling tired,” I offer, winking at Tucker to let him know that she might benefit from a short nap.

“Maybe.” Paisley yawns as her head rests back against the edge of her seat. I can tell that her eyes are getting heavy as the car ride starts to lull her to sleep. Damn turkey, making people tired on Thanksgiving.

“I don’t think she’s going to last even until we make it to your parents’,” I quietly tell Tucker.

“You’re probably right about a nap not being a bad idea. Especially since we’ll probably be here pretty late.”

“I don’t mind lying down with her for a little bit,” I tell him, reiterating my offer.

“If she passes out before we get there, I can probably get her inside without her waking up. But if you need a nap, I won’t stop you. Need you well rested for later.” He smirks.

“Oh, really?” I quirk an eyebrow at him. “And who jumped whom this morning?”

“You know you can’t resist me,” he throws right back at me. He’s not wrong, but I like to think that the feeling is mutual and that we’re both just as gone for each other.

“And she’s out,” I tell Tucker as he pulls up to his parents' house.

“You get Buckley, and I’ll get Paisley,” he tells me, shutting the truck off.

“Sounds like a plan.” I jump down, then open the back door. Buckley hops out, heading straight for the house.

I hold the screen door open for Tucker to walk through, a sleeping Paisley in his arms. He carries her back to one of the bedrooms and successfully transfers her without her waking up. Poor girl is tuckered out.

We head toward the noise from his family, all gathered around in the living room, kitchen, and dining room areas. Much like my family was, the women are congregated together in the kitchen, while the men are watching the football game on TV, or even outside playing their own football game.

“Hey, Mom,” Tucker greets her, accepting the hug she pulls him into.

“Where’s my Paisley girl?” she asks, looking around him for her granddaughter.

“Asleep on the bed. She passed out on the drive over here,” he explains.

“Oh, sweet child. She must have had fun today for her to take a nap so willingly,” Donna muses.

“My thoughts exactly.” Tucker chuckles, stepping back from his mother's embrace.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Lindsay,” Donna greets me.

“Happy Thanksgiving, thanks for having me.”

“Of course, dear. The more, the merrier.” She pulls me into a hug of my own, and I see the smile that fills Tucker's face. I know his parents mean everything to him, just as Paisley does, so to know that having me here means something to him makes it that much more of an important day.

“I don’t know how we made it home without someone wheeling me in,” I joke, dropping down on the bed. The day was long, filled with so much love, laughter, and a ton of food. “I’m going to be full for the next week; I ate so much.”

“I’m sure you’ll be out rummaging through the fridge, looking for pie, come morning,” Tucker smirks, tossing his shirt into the hamper.

“Well, duh, there is always room for pie, especially for breakfast. Plus, it's got fruit in it, so, therefore, it is healthy,” I say, doing my best to keep a straight face, but failing when he gives me an oh really look.

“Sure, we’ll go with the fruit, so healthy, bit,” he teases before ducking into the bathroom.

I lay back on the pillow, being lazy and not getting myself up to get ready for bed; thankfully, I have tomorrow off so I can sleep in and get a few things done before returning to work on Saturday.

“So, are you going to get ready for bed or just lay there like a bump on a log?” Tucker asks as he steps out of the bathroom in nothing but his tight boxer briefs.

“But I’m comfortable,” I pout, rolling over and off the bed. I head toward the bathroom, but Tucker intercepts me,