Just One of the Groomsmen Page 2

  It just wasn’t right.

  It wasn’t that they’d never seen Addie wear a dress; it was that she loathed them with a hatred he withheld for things like paperwork and blind refs who ruined games.

  She’d once slugged him in the shoulder for even mentioning her dress-wearing at her sister’s wedding. The skirt had been long and baggy, and the real tragedy was that she couldn’t toss around the pigskin.

  So then they’d both had to sit there with their hands folded in their laps for what seemed like forever and it was boring as hell, an emotion he’d rarely experienced around her.

  “Your poker face is crap, Crawford. I know you’re thinking about how funny it is that I just agreed to wear a freaking bridesmaid’s dress, and if you don’t want me to jam that beer you’re drinking where the sun don’t shine, I suggest you wipe the smirk off your face.” She pointed her finger around the table. “That goes for all of you.”

  “I appreciate you going along with it,” Shep said. “I told Lexi that you’d probably slug me just for suggesting it.”

  “Lucky for you, you were too far away and wearing that lovestruck grin that makes me take pity on you.”

  “When someone basically says thank you, maybe don’t follow that up by insulting them.” Shep placed three cards, face up, in the center of the table. “Just a suggestion.”

  “This is why so many guys in town are scared of you,” Easton said with a laugh.

  She clucked her tongue. “They are not.”

  The other half of the table nodded.

  Tucker found himself nodding even though he hadn’t lived in town for the better part of two years. It’d been like that since high school, with Addie intimidating anyone who dared cross her path, and the selfish part of him was glad no one had come in and swept her off her feet.

  Not that she would ever let some guy do the sweeping. A few had probably tried, with her completely oblivious. With her dark-brown hair that was forever in a ponytail, the smattering of freckles across her nose, her big brown eyes, and the fact that she was cool as hell, it was surprising she’d stayed mostly single.

  Ford pinned her with a look. “Addie, when dudes come in to see you for physical therapy, you tell them to stop crying over something your grandma could do.”

  “Well, she could! My nonna is tougher than most of the crybabies who come in and whine about having to put in the work it takes to get over their injuries. Telling them my grandma could do it is motivating.”

  “Not to ask you out,” Ford said, and snickers went around the table.

  “Very funny. Being scared of me and being undateable are two different things.”

  “You’re hardly undateable,” Tucker said, the words similar to exchanges they’d had before.

  “Yeah, but it’s nearly impossible to find someone who doesn’t already know too much about me—or me about him—and even if I manage that, then I introduce him to you guys, and things unravel pretty quickly after that.”

  “Maybe with one of us gettin’ hitched, we’ll be less intimidating.” Shep dealt the turn and they started a round of betting.

  “I’m sure it’s me,” Addie muttered. “Now, do you guys want to talk about my pathetic dating life, or do y’all want me to finish taking your money?”

  “Wow, what great options,” Tucker deadpanned. “Not sure why anyone would be scared of you. Couldn’t be all the threats.”

  She turned those brown eyes on him and cocked an eyebrow. “Listen, city boy. Maybe you can just flash your shiny car and some Benjamins to get your way where you live, but here we still live and die by the same code.”

  He leaned in, challenge firing in his veins. “And that is…?”

  “Loser buys beer next time. And/or acts as designated driver.”

  “And sleeps on the breakfast bar,” Easton added, jerking his chin toward the hardwood bench they’d taken turns crashing out on at one time or another. There were only so many sleeping spots in the houseboat. Winner and runner-up got the bed, and third place landed the couch.

  “Oh, man.” Shep rubbed his lower back. “I don’t think I’ve recovered from the last time I passed out there.” He dealt the last card, revealing the river, and Tucker watched for everyone’s reactions.

  The guys folded after he doubled the bet, and then it came down to him and Addie.

  “Poker’s so much better with all of us here,” she said.

  “Trying to distract me?” Tucker asked. “’Cause it won’t work.”

  She laughed. “No, just telling the truth. We’ve tried to play with people from everyone’s respective jobs, or some other rando who wants in when they hear we play poker, and it always sucks. And it’s never as interesting with just four.”

  Ford shifted forward in his seat. “Remember Buck? That guy never shut up.”

  “And thanks to you”—Tucker gave Ford’s shoulder a shove—“we already have the loudmouth position filled.”

  Ford flipped him off and then let out a loud burp. “He also scratched his balls even more than Easton does.”

  “Hey,” Easton said. “When you’ve got balls this size, they require constant adjustment.”

  Addie took a swig of her beer. “Buck wasn’t as bad as that Yank Shep brought over. That dude didn’t even know how to play.”

  “That Yank happens to be my cousin,” Shep said. “And it’s not like I wanted to bring him. My mama insisted, and it was easier to drag him along than argue with her.”

  “We explained the rules over and over”—Easton reached across the table to grab the potato chips—“and that dude still didn’t know whether to check his ass or scratch his watch.”

  Whenever Tucker came home, he noticed the extra twang in his friends’ voices—not to mention the more colorful sayings—and he knew by the end of the night, he’d pick it right back up, his own accent thicker for a few days before the city smoothed it out a bit.

  “All right, let’s see what you got,” Tucker said, and he and Addie placed their cards on the table at the same time.

  Then she proceeded to take the last of his chips.

  They played until everyone was sober again and Addie had pretty much cleaned them out. One by one they left, save the two of them.

  “Are you staying here at the houseboat tonight?” she asked as she gathered her keys off the table outside. “Because you know that my door is always open, and I even have a bed that doesn’t sway.”

  That was Addie’s way of offering him a place to crash without making him feel homeless.

  His parents had divorced his junior year of high school, which was extra fun in a small town where everyone gossiped about it. The next hit came when the bank foreclosed on his childhood home, leaving him feeling completely uprooted, something he’d only ever confessed to Addie.

  It didn’t help that Dad sold nearly everything so he could move towns, and Tucker had to beg him to hold off selling the houseboat.

  Halfway through law school, Dad claimed he needed money too badly to wait any longer, so Tucker drove to Uncertainty, took out a loan against the small plot of land his grandfather had left him, and bought the houseboat himself. He’d nearly paid it off, although he’d already seen repairs that would need to be made whenever he found spare time—so probably about three years from now.

  “I like it out here on the lake,” he said, “and I don’t mind if my bed rocks a little.”

  “Dirty,” she teased, and he laughed.

  Although now he was thinking about how long it’d been. Work was getting in the way of every single aspect of his social life. If he loved his job, it would be one thing, but he was giving up a lot for a future of making a lot of money—right now he still had plenty of bills and student loans to worry about.

  A smile curved Addie’s lips as she ran her hand over the deck railing. “I love this mini-house and all our memo
ries here.”

  “Yeah, those were definitely the good ol’ days.”

  He folded his forearms on the railing and looked out over the water. It’d been a long time since he’d been able to kick back and joke with people who understood him. A long time since he’d felt so relaxed. While being with the whole gang was a blast, Addie had always been his go-to when he needed advice or wanted to get more real.

  Certain things couldn’t be communicated over the phone, and no matter how hard they’d tried to keep in touch, it just wasn’t the same as in person, and now he was out of practice.

  So he stuck to simple. “Tonight was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

  “Me too. Like I said, poker’s not the same without you. Same with football games, whether we’re both cheering for Auburn on Saturdays, or if you’re spending Sundays being an annoying ass who talks trash about my team.” She set her jaw. “Even you have to admit that the Falcons had a good season last year.”

  “I admit nothing.”

  “Stubborn,” she muttered. As if she wasn’t equally as stubborn. She sighed and lightly punched his arm. “Night, Crawford.”

  He returned the gesture. “Night, Murph.”

  She turned to go, but then abruptly spun around and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I understand that your job is demanding, but don’t be a stranger.”

  He squeezed her back, noticing that her hair smelled fruity, like maybe strawberry or raspberry, or something berry, anyway.

  “At least with Shep getting married you’ve got another excuse to come down and spend more than a weekend,” she said, and something deep in his gut tugged.

  “Yeah, it’s good to have an excuse.” What he wanted was an excuse not to go back to his cold, generic apartment and mind-numbing job.

  Back to his serious life where he’d have to feel the loneliness he was doing his best to pretend didn’t exist.

  What he wanted more than anything was to return to his friends and the town he loved, and he wasn’t sure how he could possibly go back and be satisfied with his old life after tonight showed him everything that was missing from it.

  Chapter Two

  Four months later

  Addie tossed clothes out of her old dresser, trying in vain to find something to wear. She’d gone straight from a hectic day at work where her boss was on a rampage to her parents’ house to check on her grandmother, and now she didn’t have time to go home to change.

  She’d already texted Lexi and asked her to pick her up here, too, and considering she was on her way to her very first bridal shower and had no idea what to expect, her nerves were stretched to the fraying point.

  Yoga pants were good enough for her and her clients, but since she knew the unconventional decision to have her as a groomsman had already made her the problem child of the wedding party, she was making an effort to keep Shep’s bride-to-be happy.

  She wasn’t sure why she thought she’d have better luck with her high school wardrobe. It was all jeans, old baggy T-shirts, and cozy sweatshirts.

  Ooh, this is where my AU Tigers sweatshirt is.

  Her mother had tried getting rid of it several times thanks to the bleach stain on the front, but it used to be her favorite. Not dressy enough for tonight, but it was going in her take-home pile.

  Next time Tucker comes back to town, I’ll show him that I own more than one sweatshirt.

  Of course it was equally as ratty as her Falcons one, and wouldn’t get as big a rise out of him, so then again maybe not.

  These jeans are on the nicer side. Addie shed her yoga pants and slipped her feet inside the legs of the jeans. She tugged until they were halfway up her thighs.

  Where they might remain forever.

  One thing was for sure, she wouldn’t be getting them on without ripping the denim and losing the ability to breathe.

  As she bent to pull them off, her bound legs caused her to wobble. She fell backward, hitting the bed before thumping her way to the floor.

  “Ouch.”

  The door swung open, and she grabbed the quilt off the bed to cover herself the best she could, in case it was Dad and they both ended up scarred for life.

  Instead, her sister stepped inside and looked down at her, forehead all scrunched up. “What on earth are you doing?”

  “Getting a harsh reminder that I’m not the same size I used to be in high school,” Addie said. “When did you get into town?”

  “Just barely.” Alexandria extended a hand and helped Addie off the floor, and she gave her sister a quick hug.

  Alexandria was six years older, and while they didn’t have much in common, they were blood, and they cared about each other, despite being so opposite.

  For example, if anyone tried to call her Alex, she’d freeze them to death with her icy glare, whereas Addie would do about the same if anyone used her full name.

  Obviously Alexandria was the girly, pretty one. The one teachers asked Addie why she couldn’t be more like, same as her mom had countless times before.

  Her sister had followed the typical life plan. College, marriage, motherhood. At least that last one meant Addie didn’t get as much pressure from Mom and Nonna Lucia about wanting grandchildren. “How long are you staying?”

  “Just the weekend.”

  The only edge Addie had over her sister in all things “should” came from the fact that she still lived in Uncertainty, and her sister had moved a whole state away.

  Her family had been so upset, asking if they’d done something wrong, because how couldn’t you want to stay in Uncertainty, Alabama, where everyone knew everyone, and that somehow entitled them to being all up in your business?

  Addie sat on the bed and tugged at the denim encasing her legs. “I wish I knew you were coming. Maybe then I could’ve gotten out of this bridal shower thing I have to go to.”

  Alexandria gaped at her as if she’d suddenly grown a unicorn horn. “You’re going to a bridal shower?”

  Finally, the pants came free and Addie sighed in relief. “It’s for Shep’s fiancée and I’m one of the groomsmen, so…”

  “You didn’t even go to my bridal shower, even after I— Wait. Groomsmen?” The concern on Alexandria’s face only grew. “You’re a groomsman?”

  Addie assumed Mom would’ve told her, or that someone else in town would’ve, since word spread like butter on a hot biscuit round these parts.

  When the elderly postwoman heard the news, she’d sighed and told Addie that no guy would ever see her as a girl if she didn’t at least try to act like one. There’d been facts about cavemen and certain things being in men’s DNA, but after the hunter versus berry-gatherer mentality part, Addie tuned out.

  She’d gotten good at tuning out, even though a few remarks always poked their way in and jabbed at her.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be wearing a bridesmaid’s dress to the wedding.”

  “Well, good to know that Will Shepherd can get you to do something I never could.” While the words had a gentle ribbing vibe, a hint of genuine indignance swam under the surface.

  Offense pinched Addie’s gut, especially after she’d sacrificed her comfort the day Alexandria walked down the aisle. “I wore a dress to your wedding.”

  “No, you wore a skirt, and you got it dirty playing ball with that Crawford kid before we could get all the pictures I wanted.”

  Mom had tried to make her and Tucker sit like good little statues. It’d worked for a while, but when Tucker told her he couldn’t take it anymore, they’d snuck to the park for a game of catch, and the rest of the guys showed up.

  Good times.

  “Anyway,” Addie said, not wanting to rehash the many occasions she’d disappointed everyone, “I have nothing to wear. Suggestions?”

  The bibbed overalls in her closet caught her eye, and she tugged them away from the rest
of the clothes. Comfort was king, so that was one of the fashion trends she’d been totally on board for. Too bad it didn’t last, although someone said overalls were coming back around. “Maybe with the right shirt—”

  Alexandria slapped her hand off the miles of baggy denim. “For goodness’ sake, I have a dress you can borrow.”

  Addie wrinkled her nose. “A dress?”

  “What were you planning on wearing?”

  “Nice jeans and a dressy-ish top with—”

  “Come on, we’ll need to hurry.” Alexandria didn’t even slow enough for her to grab the discarded yoga pants.

  She dragged a pants-less Addie into her room, plucked a dress out of her suitcase, and tossed it at her head.

  Addie lifted it to examine it. “Pink lace? Why did you even pack a dress, and what makes you think I can pull off pink lace? This looks kind of short, too.”

  “When’s the last time you shaved your legs?” Alexandria asked.

  “Recently-ish.”

  She tossed a razor, and luckily Addie’s reflexes were better than her ability to rock a dress, because she whipped up her hand and caught it before it could hit her in the chest. Then her sister was shoving her into the adjoining bathroom and instructing her to shave her legs—“all the way up, I mean it”—while she went to work curling Addie’s hair.

  And Addie vowed to never ask her sister for help again…

  If she even survived the night.

  …

  The town sign proudly welcomed Tucker to Uncertainty—kind of ironic, considering his current predicament.

  Thanks to the townsfolk being loud and proud about how their tiny town came to be, everyone learned how back in the day, the people who’d first dwelled there filled out an application for township. Since the settlement was on the shore of Lake Jocassee, and the citizens weren’t exactly sure whether their town fell in Alabama or Georgia, they’d filled out the form with “We remain in Uncertainty.”

  When the township was granted, it was under the name Uncertainty.