Remember Love (3 page)

I lean my head back to
peer up at him. If the look in his eyes is any indication, then I would swear he feels it too. I place my hands on his chest. His arms snake around my waist, pulling me closer. My cheek lands against his chest and we stand there holding each other in for a few minutes in silence.

Tu
cker squeezes me and steps back, letting me go. After he bends over and picks up our trash, he grabs my hand and drags me toward the house. Well “drag” may not be the right word, since I'm starting to think I would willingly follow Tucker anywhere.

“Where are we going fishing?” I hop
e we weren't going to the pond closest to the house. Because there are other ponds sprinkled throughout the fields that offer more privacy.

Tucker flashes a grin. “
You'll see.”

Yep
, we are going into the fields. This should be interesting.

When we reach Tucker's truck
, he tosses our plates and cans into the truck bed before he opens the driver's side door. I start toward the passenger’s side when he pulls me close and tells me to climb in.

He stops me from scooting over and tells me to st
ay put so I would be in the middle, close to him.

“Stay?
” I ask. “What am I? Your dog? What's next, beg and roll over?” As soon as those words leave my mouth that I had walked face first into what comes next.

A slow smile curves his lips as he starts the truck and shifts it into first
gear. He looks straight into my eyes. “Dog, no. Mine, hopefully. Beg, maybe. Roll over, definitely.”

W
ell, hell. What do I say to that?

His smile quickly
becomes a mischievous smirk as his eyes turns to the windshield and he peels off down the gravel road. Seems like Tucker really wants some private time with me, and I'm not opposed to that at all. After the sparks and the memories, I’m more curious than ever about where this is going.

I turn on
the radio and immediately hear a song I love, Blake Shelton's
Boys Round Here
. I listen to all types of music, but country is one of my favorites. Sticking to my roots and all that. This song reminds of so many of the guys I know from this town and affirms how different country boys are compared to city boys.

I'd take a country boy over a city slicker any day of the week.
And I'm beginning to think I may be sitting right next to my country boy. I look over at Tucker, who’s smiling, and wonder what he's thinking.

“What are
you smiling about?” I ask.

Tucker takes his hand off the gear shift and squeez
es my knee. “I'm just happy you’re here with me right now.”

“I'm happy I'm here with you
, too.” I touch the top of his hand and see his smile falter a little as he squirms in his seat. I barely move my hand away when he turns his hand over and holds on to mine. I spread my fingers and lace them into his, and a sense of peace comes over me.

I lay my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. I feel safe right here
beside Tucker.

“
Come on, Brenna, the fish won't wait all day.” Tucker says.

“
Where they gonna go, Tuck?”

He shakes his head at me and keeps on walking toward
the pond.

Tucker and I sat by that pond all day trying to catch a fish
, just to throw it back and do it all over again.

“Hey what are you thinking about?”
he asks.

I realize
d then that the truck has stopped. I look out the window and see that we are at the same pond I was just remembering. “That day we came here when I was twelve and we sat here all day and never caught anything.”

“I told you
, they wouldn't wait.”

I laugh
ed. “I can't believe you remember saying that.”

“I remember every minute I spent with you
, Brenna.”

“I'm starting to remember it all
, too, Tucker.”

Tucker
stares at me for a few seconds as if he wants to see straight into my thoughts. He gives me a small smile before releasing my hand and hopping out of his truck.

I sit there for a
little while longer thinking that all these years maybe I was wrong. There has to be more to the story. To our story. How will it end this time?

By the time I climb down out of the truck, Tucker is already waiting for me with fishing supplies, because as he reminded me, the fish won’t wait all day. He gestures for me to go ahead of him, so I start walking toward the pond. Something tells me his eyes are glued to my ass, and I spin around to walk backwards facing him.

Because I can’t see behind me,
I hope I don’t fall in the pond. That would be humiliating.

“Stop staring at my ass.”

Tucker doesn’t look embarrassed at all when his eyes meet mine. He just grins at me and, holy hell what a smile.

I
turn back around and add a little extra swing to my hips.

“Shit!”
he hollers.

I spin back around
to see that Tucker stumbled over a rock.

“You know
, you should really watch where you’re stepping.” I grin at him and take off running when he drops the poles and tackle box, rushing after me.

I scream like a little girl
, running around the pond, trying to dodge Tucker. It reminds me of when we were young, running through the fields together and laughing like we didn’t have a care in the world. All of a sudden my feet leave the ground as Tucker catches me around the waist, lifting me into the air.

We’
re both laughing, but then he tightens his grip, bringing my back to his chest. And our laughter stops. Tucker turns me around in his arms and simply looks down at me. His palm cradles my cheek, and I as if my body knows what it wants, I lean my face against his hand.

“I’ve missed you so much
, Brenna.” 

“It’s your own fault.”

Tucker’s face displays several emotions all at once, but he says nothing. Dropping his hand from my check, he steps back. I instantly mourn the loss of his arms. There had been a sense of comfort and longing during those short moments in his embrace.

He says,
“Ya know, Brenna…”

I cut him off
before he can finish his sentence. I’m pretty sure I know what he’s about to say, but I don’t think I’m ready to hear it. “Yeah, I know they won’t wait all day.”

He laughs and turns
his attention to the poles and tackle box he dropped on the ground.

I follow behind him as we make our way to the pond
. When we get there, I settle into a spot along the bank. I don’t understand what’s going on between Tucker and me. I still feel like I’m missing something.

“Tucker?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on?”

“Well, since we’re sitting by a pond and I’m holding two poles I’d say we’re about to fish.”

“Smart
ass. You know that’s not what I meant.”

Tucker
glances down at me before he turns away to open the tackle box and get the bait ready. “Tell me what you’ve been doing the last four years?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice the change of subject.
” I say, while raising a brow at him. “There isn’t much to tell, you know, I moved shortly after graduation and been living in Louisville ever since. I go to class, the library, and then home. The next day, I do it all over again.”

“You don’t party?”

“Nope, I did that my freshman year. It got old pretty fast.”

“
Boyfriend?”

“Fishing in more way
s than one, Tucker?”

Tucker hands
me my pole and gets to his feet. “Just making conversation.”

I stand up to cast my line
out into the pond. “No.”

We both reel our lines in a little and sit back on the bank waiting for
our bobbers to sink. We’ve done this so many times before, but this time feels different. There’s tension between us now, and I’m not sure why.

We sit there for
about an hour. My bobber finally sinks and I jump up to grab my pole. I yank on the line to reel in the fish.

“What do
ya think, Tucker? Bluegill or turtle?”

“Since we’ve
never caught fish in this pond, I’m gonna go with a turtle.”

“You
wanna make a wager on it?”

Tucker smile
, letting me know that I may get more than I bargained for if he’s right. “Turtle, you climb our tree with me. Bluegill, I’ll answer your question.”

“Deal
.”

I finally get the line reeled in enough to see what
I caught, and we’re both wrong.

“How the hell did a catfish get in
to this pond?” I hold up my line, glancing over at Tucker.

“
Dunno, but let me unhook him so you don’t get gilled.”

I roll my eyes at this until Tucker bends over to
retrieve his pliers from the tackle box.

Hello nice ass.

“Brenna James, stop staring at my ass.” He stands up straight, eyes boring into mine.

Busted!
My only reaction is to grin at him, wondering if it has the same effect on him that his grin has on me.

Tucker removes the hook and throws the catfish back into the pond. There went supper,
as if I was going to cook it anyway.

The sun is starting to
sink below the horizon, and to my disappointment we won’t be staying much longer. I’m not ready to say goodbye to Tucker yet.

He quickly
puts everything back into his tackle box and is now reeling in his line. I grab my pole and start toward his truck. When I get there, I drop the tailgate and hop up to take a seat as I wait for him.

I’m leaning back
, watching the sun disappear, when Tucker joins me on the tailgate, scooting in close.

“So?” I
ask, my eyes meeting his. “Since we were both wrong, how ‘bout we go climb our tree,
and
you answer my question?”

Tucker
looks up at the sky, he seems to be thinking over this for a minute before he answers. “Sounds good.”

He
lowers himself to the ground and waits for me to jump down so he can close the tailgate then he rushes to the driver’s door and opens it. I climb up into the truck and scoot over to the middle when Tucker starts the engine. The radio station is playing Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s
Fishing in the Dark.

I
have to laugh, I mean, what are the odds that we were just fishing, the sun has set, and this song starts playing on the radio. Talk about a coincidence.

I look out the window to watch the stars come out and think about all the nights Tucker and I roamed these fields catching lightning bugs. It was a game to see who could catch the most in their Mason jar.
Things were so much simpler when all we worried about was having fun.

Tucker parks the truck near our tree. Not close enough for me to use the truck as a ladder, so I guess he will be boosting me up there. We both get out of the truck and walk toward the lowest branch. Tucker squats down and cups his hands. I place my foot there and up I go. Just like old times.

I settle
onto a branch, waiting for Tucker to join me. When he does, he sits on the branch, his back to the truck, and holds outs his hand to help me get situated. He pulls me close until my back is against his chest, encircling  his arms around my waist.

Settling
my arms on top his that are holding my waist, I lean my head back against his chest. I am completely relaxed and feel in this moment that I am exactly where I should be. This is a moment that I’ll want to remember forever. I take my phone out of my pocket and angle it just right to capture a picture, so no matter what tomorrow brings, I will at least have this memory to look at whenever I want.

Tucker clears his throat
, startling me. He tightens his arms a little to keep me from falling. His chest expands as he takes a deep breath. Maybe he’s getting ready to answer my question from earlier.

Tucker says,
“All right, I’m gonna talk and you listen, okay?” He waits until I nod my agreement before continuing. “I’m gonna start at the beginning.”

“Okay.”
I whisper.

He says,
“I remember the day we met like it was yesterday. I was helping Dad unload the truck and I looked up to see the most beautiful sight I’ve ever laid eyes on. You wore pair of grass stained, worn out jeans, a pink T-shirt, and your boots.”

Much like I am dressed right now
, minus the grass stains, but I don’t say a word, not wanting to interrupt him.

“
You ran right up to me and said, ‘My name’s Brenna, what’s yours?’ I told you my name and from that day forward we were inseparable. That is, till the day I saw you run past the field and I ran after you. The day you told me you were moving.”

T
ears pool in my eyes at the memory. Tucker takes another deep breath, as though he is fighting his own emotions, before he continues.

“Brenna
, it felt like my world stopped that day. I was so afraid I’d never see you again. I know now that it was irrational or whatever, but I was eleven years old, and to me, it was the end of us. I didn’t think about the fact that I still lived here and you could still visit. After y’all moved, I sat in this tree every day, staring across the fields, thinking any minute I’d see you running toward me.”

I sniffle a little at this because I know how he feels
. We were best friends, and I felt like I lost a piece of me right here on this farm that day. I wait for a few minutes for Tucker to say more, but he doesn’t say anything else. It’s my turn to speak now.

“Tucker
, I missed you every day. I used to beg to come here every time school was out, but most times I either couldn’t, or by the time I got here it was too late to see you. And then the next day, we seemed to always miss each other. Like something was trying to keep us apart.”

I hear Tucker make a noise behi
nd me. I try to turn so I can see his face, but he tightens his hold again, stopping me. We sit there in our tree, both lost in our thoughts.

Finally, he says, “Scoot forward some.
I wanna show you something.”

I move forward and turn
to can see what Tucker is doing. He swings his leg over so he can step onto the branch below us and motions me back over. I scoot back toward him to look where he is pointing. It’s too dark, so I pull out my phone to shine the light on the tree trunk. I gasp in surprise when I see it.

Carved into the tree are our initials inside a heart. I
glance at Tucker, who is staring intently at my face. A tear rolls down my cheek, reaching up he catching it on his thumb. Instead of wiping it off on his jeans, like I expect, he rubs his fingers together absorbing my tear into his skin.

“When did you put this here?”
I ask with a shaky voice.

“
The summer you were fourteen.”

“That’s the summer you stopped all communication with me.”

“Yeah,” Tucker drops his head, and after a few seconds he starts to climb down the tree.

“Why?” I whisper
.

H
e had to hear me, because he pauses before dropping to the ground. “That’s a story for another time, Brenna.” Holding his arms up to me he says. “Come on, jump, I’ll catch you.”

“You better!” I yell before I jump
.

Tucker catches me in his arms,
holding me close. I wrap my arms around his neck, giving him a squeeze. He holds me against him, staring into my eyes for a few short minutes, before lowering my feet to the ground. I let my arms fall and step away.

“Why can’t you tell me now?” If he’d just tell me, I know it’ll be a
revelation that will change everything.

“It’s not time for that yet. I need you to remember
everything else first. Then I’ll tell you.”

Tucker
is leaning against the tree. I step closer to him so I can see his face in the fading light as the sky continues to darken.

“Promise?”
I ask.

“Yeah, I promise.”

I smile up at him. Even though he won’t tell me now, everything else today has been wonderful. It’s almost like all the years have fallen away and I have my Tucker back.

“I’m glad we ran into each other yesterday.”
I blurt.

“Me too.
Saved me a trip.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was getting tired of waiting for you to come back home.” Tucker shrugs.

“Okay, so
… what? You were gonna come looking for me?”

“Yeah
. Something like that.”

“Why?”

Tucker snorts. Yes, he snorted. “Because I was tired of waiting.”

Before I realize what
’s happened I’m pulled back into his arms, his finger hooked in my belt loop. Tucker lifts my chin so my eyes look directly into his. He lowers his head toward mine and I think he is going to kiss me. But instead, he touches his forehead to mine.

“What are you doing next weekend?”

“Nothing, besides maybe studying. Why?”

“I’d like to come and see you.”
he says in a soft voice.

“I think I’d like that.”

Tucker lightly grazes his lips across mine. No more, no less. Just a soft, sweet brush of his lips before he wraps his arms around me and hugs me like he’ll never let me go.

“Come on
,” he says. “It’s getting late and you have a long drive tomorrow.” He runs his hands down my arms and laces his fingers with mine as we begin our walk to my SUV.

As I open my door
, Tucker hands me his phone and tells me to enter my number and call my phone so I have his number as well. I do and he hugs me one more time before he tells me goodnight. I watch as he walks back across the lane and opens his door on his truck. I wave as I drive past him and see a smile on his face. I already can’t wait to see him next weekend.