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Authors: Elizabeth Seckman
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laughed. “You’re very pretty.”
“Thank you. But I hope you’re still interested in my mind.”
“I’m beginning to think your mind is a little demented.”
“A little?” He scoffed. “It’s a whole lot, baby.”
Her smile came fast and easily, and her laugh carried on the wind, mingling with the crash of the waves and squawks of the gulls on shore. Damn, he’d forgotten how good life could be.
Tipping her head slightly, she said, “You’re prettiest when you smile, Tucker Boone. Happiness suits you.”
He’d like to say he took her appraisal real cool, like a mature man could, but he felt the heat crawl up his neck to center on his cheeks. Walking beside her, he asked, “Anywhere good we can eat?”
“I usually cook.”
“All I’ve got are cans of food and cereal. I had some frozen pizza, but I ate it all. Let me take you somewhere.”
“I don’t really feel like dressing up and going out.” Her voice dropped lower, as if she was embarrassed.
“Me neither. How about I pick up a pizza? We could watch a movie.” Calm down, Tucker. No sense letting her know she’s making you insane. He gripped the flowered bag tighter.
“At my place?” She stopped in the path and turned to look at him. She chewed her lip.
“I’m being pushy. I’m sorry.”
“No, no. It’s just that…well, I mostly have old black and white movies.”
“Like Casablanca?”
“Yeah, and the Maltese Falcon . I have the entire Hitchcock collection.”
“That’s great. I’ve been wanting to see them all.”
“Really?” Josie didn’t look convinced.
“Really. Every single one is on my bucket list.” As of right now.
Josie’s face lit up. “I can’t believe you like old movies. I can make sandwiches.”
“No, let me get the pizza.”
“Okay. Then tomorrow, I’ll make dinner,” Josie said, her body giving a little bounce as she talked.
“Awesome,” Tucker said, hoping to hell he wasn’t headed to the friend zone. But sadly, he admitted to himself, if she asked him to spend an evening highlighting their hair, he’d agree.
He showered and drove into the cozy town for a pizza. Then over to Ella’s to buy drinks. He debated between picking up beer, wine, or cola, but instead grabbed a pack of fruity flavored wine coolers. He wanted everything to be perfect. He almost asked Ella if his shirt looked all right, but he squelched it. It was just a movie with a girl. Even if she did make his palms sweat and his brain lock up, she was just a girl.
Arriving back at the cottage, he knocked on her door. She answered, wearing a pair of yoga pants and an over-sized tee shirt. Her cheeks were pink from the sun, her hair a riot of untamed curls piled on top of her head. Her hair looked soft, tempting him to reach out, wrap a curl around his finger, and see if he was right. But the thought of touching her made his heart race like he’d run a mile. He suddenly worried he was going to break out in a sweat. The idea of ending up with wet arm pits made him feel even hotter.
“I, uh, brought wine coolers.” He lifted the brown paper bag as evidence. “I wasn’t sure if you liked them or not.”
Josie pulled one from the carton and looked at it. “I’ve never had one. I drank a beer at a party once, but I hated it.”
“One beer? Slow down there, tiger.”
“Yeah well, my mother was strict. I didn’t get out much.”
“It’s all right. I'm more than happy to be your bad influence. Try one. They’re much better than beer. Or so the ladies tell me. I’d never admit to drinking them myself.” He took the bottle from her and twisted. It hissed as it opened. He handed it back; she hesitated a moment as if deciding if it was beverage or poison.
After taking a small sip, she smiled. “It’s good. I like it.”
They each made a plate. Josie carried hers to the couch and sat with her feet tucked under her. Picking up the remote, she flipped on the TV. “I put in Psycho . I mean, you may as well
“Thank you. But I hope you’re still interested in my mind.”
“I’m beginning to think your mind is a little demented.”
“A little?” He scoffed. “It’s a whole lot, baby.”
Her smile came fast and easily, and her laugh carried on the wind, mingling with the crash of the waves and squawks of the gulls on shore. Damn, he’d forgotten how good life could be.
Tipping her head slightly, she said, “You’re prettiest when you smile, Tucker Boone. Happiness suits you.”
He’d like to say he took her appraisal real cool, like a mature man could, but he felt the heat crawl up his neck to center on his cheeks. Walking beside her, he asked, “Anywhere good we can eat?”
“I usually cook.”
“All I’ve got are cans of food and cereal. I had some frozen pizza, but I ate it all. Let me take you somewhere.”
“I don’t really feel like dressing up and going out.” Her voice dropped lower, as if she was embarrassed.
“Me neither. How about I pick up a pizza? We could watch a movie.” Calm down, Tucker. No sense letting her know she’s making you insane. He gripped the flowered bag tighter.
“At my place?” She stopped in the path and turned to look at him. She chewed her lip.
“I’m being pushy. I’m sorry.”
“No, no. It’s just that…well, I mostly have old black and white movies.”
“Like Casablanca?”
“Yeah, and the Maltese Falcon . I have the entire Hitchcock collection.”
“That’s great. I’ve been wanting to see them all.”
“Really?” Josie didn’t look convinced.
“Really. Every single one is on my bucket list.” As of right now.
Josie’s face lit up. “I can’t believe you like old movies. I can make sandwiches.”
“No, let me get the pizza.”
“Okay. Then tomorrow, I’ll make dinner,” Josie said, her body giving a little bounce as she talked.
“Awesome,” Tucker said, hoping to hell he wasn’t headed to the friend zone. But sadly, he admitted to himself, if she asked him to spend an evening highlighting their hair, he’d agree.
He showered and drove into the cozy town for a pizza. Then over to Ella’s to buy drinks. He debated between picking up beer, wine, or cola, but instead grabbed a pack of fruity flavored wine coolers. He wanted everything to be perfect. He almost asked Ella if his shirt looked all right, but he squelched it. It was just a movie with a girl. Even if she did make his palms sweat and his brain lock up, she was just a girl.
Arriving back at the cottage, he knocked on her door. She answered, wearing a pair of yoga pants and an over-sized tee shirt. Her cheeks were pink from the sun, her hair a riot of untamed curls piled on top of her head. Her hair looked soft, tempting him to reach out, wrap a curl around his finger, and see if he was right. But the thought of touching her made his heart race like he’d run a mile. He suddenly worried he was going to break out in a sweat. The idea of ending up with wet arm pits made him feel even hotter.
“I, uh, brought wine coolers.” He lifted the brown paper bag as evidence. “I wasn’t sure if you liked them or not.”
Josie pulled one from the carton and looked at it. “I’ve never had one. I drank a beer at a party once, but I hated it.”
“One beer? Slow down there, tiger.”
“Yeah well, my mother was strict. I didn’t get out much.”
“It’s all right. I'm more than happy to be your bad influence. Try one. They’re much better than beer. Or so the ladies tell me. I’d never admit to drinking them myself.” He took the bottle from her and twisted. It hissed as it opened. He handed it back; she hesitated a moment as if deciding if it was beverage or poison.
After taking a small sip, she smiled. “It’s good. I like it.”
They each made a plate. Josie carried hers to the couch and sat with her feet tucked under her. Picking up the remote, she flipped on the TV. “I put in Psycho . I mean, you may as well
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