A year later
“Okay, what’s the big surprise?” I asked as Tucker guided me, his strong hands acting as blindfolds. “Where’s Jamie? I don’t hear him. Are you sure he’s fine?”
My husband moved around me, and without removing his hands from my eyes, kissed me. He sucked on my lower lip, and I melted against his hard chest, the one keeping me safe every night.
“Wilde, stop worrying. Jamieson is fine. Enjoy your birthday. I’m taking care of everything.”
I nodded as he stepped back.
“We’re here. Don’t open your eyes until I tell you.”
Why was he being so mysterious? Earlier, Dahlia had come home and helped me choose a dress for tonight. Two months ago, she’d expanded her business and now had a satellite store in Nashville, the headquarters still in Green Mountain. We saw each other every few weeks when she came to town.
It took me eight months last year to feel confident and strong enough to resume work. And thanks to Tucker, I was now my own boss. Like I’d always dreamed.
And it fulfilled me.
Tucker quit his job before we moved to Tennessee. The bar was a success, and he never looked back. He said he had never been so happy. Gone were the pressed suits and silk ties. My husband now worked in jeans and plaid shirts most of the time and had never looked so hot. The Southern lifestyle suited him. A lot.
Our lives were blooming. In the best ways.
My heart pummeled in my chest when I heard hushed voices around me.
Tucker trailed kisses down my neck, and I shivered. He linked our hands together and said, “Open your eyes, sweetheart.”
A high-pitched cry escaped my lips when my eyes traveled around the backyard.
“Tuck, what is it?” My jaw slackened. My hand cupped my chest.
All around us were dozens of white rose bouquets, round wooden tables with white centerpieces, and garden chairs in pastel colors. The late afternoon sky was painted in pink and orange stripes.
Warmth filled me. I tried to take it all in, wanting to immerse myself in the beauty around me.
“I’m not sure I understand,” I said, my voice shaky with emotions.
My friends, my family, and everyone I cared about stood near a small stage.
“Tuck?”
I turned around, and he locked his arms around me. “Addison Samantha Wilde, we eloped to Vegas two years ago, but we never had a wedding reception. In front of everyone we loved, I wanted to make this moment the one you deserve.” He dropped to one knee, and I gasped. “We exchanged wedding bands when we got married, but I never actually put a ring on you.” A small black velvet box appeared in his hands, and he flipped it open. “I’ve been in love with you since the minute our eyes met for the first time. Our journey has been wild and crazy, but I wouldn’t change a thing, except for letting you walk away that day. Would you do me the honor of marrying me all over again?”
“Ohmygod, yes. Yes, yes, yes,” I said, bobbing my head nonstop, a river flowing down my face.
“Is that a yes I hear?”
“It’s a million times yes. I love you.” The teal Montana sapphire mounted on a platinum band fit perfectly on my ring finger. “It’s magnificent.” I fanned myself with my hand, trying to prevent the tears from ruining my makeup.
On his feet again and with his hand around my nape, Tucker brought our lips together. Fuzzy feelings danced in my belly. My heart swelled, bigger than it’d ever been before.
We exchanged vows in front of a pastor, and everyone cheered as we kissed some more.
Carter and Dahlia stepped onto the small makeshift stage, sitting on wooden chairs, a single microphone in front of them. They looked just like the kids who sang for their friends and families in her backyard all those years ago.
“Addison. Tucker. This song is for you,” Dahlia said with a wink. They played some of their most famous Carter Hills Band songs. It’d been years since they’d been on a stage together. And now here they were. For me. More tears shone in my eyes. This day would forever be imprinted on my memory.
They finished, and my husband let go of my hand. He climbed on the stage and grabbed a guitar someone handed him. Sitting next to Dahlia and Carter, they sang “A Girl Like You,” the song Tucker sang to me in that karaoke bar the weekend we met. After the first chorus, my husband jumped to his feet, ripped open his dress shirt, exposing the too-stretched and tiny pink groom T-shirt he wore that same night, and resumed the song, now on his own.
My eyes stayed glued to him.
How could I look anywhere else?
How could I want to be with anybody else?
I had no idea he played the guitar. He never hinted about it.
The grin on my face was probably three sizes too big, and I wasn’t even sure my feet touched the ground anymore.
Carter and Dahlia joined in for the last chorus.
My friends and family all cheered and applauded, but I stood there, frozen, my heart bouncing in my chest, my breaths short and shallow, and my insides about to turn into fireworks.
“I love you, Wilde,” Tucker shouted into the mike before joining me. I blinked, unable to speak, my words dissolving on my tongue. Nothing I said out loud would be enough to express how I felt.
Nearing me, he circled my waist, and I sank my head into his chest, listening to the beating of his heart.
“You play the guitar?” I asked once I landed back on planet Earth.
“Got private lessons. Back in Green Mountain. After you left. A good friend of yours is quite talented.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Wilde, I just played on a stage with the Carter Hills Band. How crazy is that?”
I shook my head, unable to stop grinning.
“You were great up there. And so sexy. That T-shirt, it really suits you. Big guy, you might have just become my new favorite country star. Don’t tell Cart and Dah I said that.”
He silenced me with a bruising kiss.
We all sat for dinner, eating in the twilight, the food delicious, and the laughter and chatter of all our friends around the table precious.
My mama, whom I tried to see more often since I moved back to Tennessee, brought Jamieson over, and nestled between us, we danced as my friends sang their greatest hits under the moonlight.
I needed nothing more in life.
My heart was full.
And I was blissfully happy.
I was still wild and crazy, but I had found my perfect match. Someone to follow me in all my over-the-top ideas. And always there to catch me when I fell or to propel me forward when I required a push in the right direction. We had each other’s backs always, for better or for worse.
“I can’t believe you did this,” I said to Tucker, enjoying his warmth all around me, as he held me tight to his chest with one arm and held Jamieson with the other. “This is so romantic.”
“If you didn’t know by now, I’m gone for you. You once said love, soulmates, and weddings matter to you. They matter to me too. When it’s with you.”
“Then let’s get out of here for a while because I gotta test that theory.”
After putting Jamieson in his crib, we retreated to our bedroom, undressing each other as if our lives depended on it.
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” Tucker said in a husky voice as he bent forward and circled a stiff nipple with his tongue. “Do we have to go back there afterward?” he panted, pointing in the direction of our backyard.
I nodded. “You invited all those people. You just can’t throw them out now. It’s not even ten o’clock yet.”
He drew in a breath. “You’re right. But let’s love each other first because I couldn’t bear to see you in that dress for another minute and not do anything about it. Now spread your legs, woman. I need my fix.”
I fell with a soft thud on our mattress, Tucker fucking me with his tongue before I could even comprehend what was happening.
“Oh God,” I moaned. “Best birthday ever.” I fisted the sheets around me as my hips shot off the bed, rivers of heat flowing inside me, as pleasure built deep in my core. My body went rigid, and a thousand volts rushed inside me, making me beg for more. I came in a series of seizures. Tucker rose to his feet, and I climbed his body, monkey-style. His thick erection pushed inside me, and with his fingers digging into my ass cheeks, I rolled my hips over his.
“Sweetheart, I’m not done with you. I have a lot more to give you.” His mouth feasted on mine, and we kissed until my lips swelled, my toes curled, and I had a hard time breathing on my own.
Moving me up and down, he speared into me in luscious strokes. I came undone all over him, and the satisfied expression on his face brightened the entire room.
“Happy birthday, Wilde.”
Once the waves of bliss lessened, my husband laid me down on our bed.
Kneeling between my legs, he flipped me on my front, placing a pillow underneath my stomach, and positioned himself so he could slide back inside me, my body humming at the sensation of his fullness. With a hand flat on my lower back and one kneading my breast, he rammed into me until all I could say was his name and all I could see were stars.
I turned over, and my husband pounded into me, lust in his eyes.
He stared at me with adoration. And that smile. The same one he sent across to me the night we first met. The one I never saw aimed at anyone else.
We came together, entangled, never breaking apart, breathing the same air, intoxicated on our love. His heart pounded strongly against mine. With one hand, he held my face and kissed me. His mouth ventured lower, sucking and teasing my skin with his tongue. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. Ready for your cake?”
I nodded, unable to speak, still overwhelmed by the after-orgasm bliss running through my bloodstream, my body not responding to orders anymore.
“Mamamamama” followed by a cry startled us both, breaking the enticing slumber in which we were drowning. Jamieson was awake, telling us he wanted to go back to the party. Like us, he loved people, music, and gatherings.
We dressed, and I fixed my hair and makeup before joining our guests in the backyard. Dahlia came to me minutes later, a big, round chocolate cake in her hands, friends and family in tow. They crooned the birthday song, my baby snuggled in my arms, and my husband pulled me to his side, keeping me close and safe against him. Like he always did.
His warm breath tickled the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Make a wish.” I squeezed his hand, closed my eyes, and prayed I’d be as happy as I was tonight for the rest of my life.
Four years later
“You sure you’re ready for this?” I asked my husband as I smoothed his jersey, my fingers lingering on his ab muscles for longer than required. “This is a big job. You can’t lose patience or throw a fit. You gotta be a role model. This is serious shit.”
He cracked a smile and devoured my mouth. I lost myself in him when he deepened the kiss, his strong arms locked around me.
“All the events in my life have brought me to this moment, sweetheart. As long as I know you’ll be rooting for me—for us—from the sideline, I can move mountains if that’s what you want. Don’t worry about me.”
Something, or rather someone, caught our eyes on the kitchen floor.
“You should worry about him, though,” Tucker teased. “He’s trying to fit his right shoe on his left foot. Again.”
I slapped his hard chest and stepped back, squatting. “Honey, try the shoe on your other foot. Yeah. This one.” I paused. “Better?” My baby jumped to his feet and looped his little arms around my neck.
“Love ya, Mama.”
“Oh, I love you too. Now get your brothers. You don’t want to be late on your first day.”
Tucker helped me up to my feet, looking picture-perfect with our ten-month-old baby girl cradled in his arms.
“Oli, Spence, Jamie, we’re leaving,” I said as Tucker went to buckle Nelly in her car seat.
My little men stomped down the stairs looking fierce and happy in their matching black jerseys, the ones I designed for the occasion.
“You’re beautiful, Mama,” Jamieson said as he walked past me. My sweet boy, always making sure I was well. Like he could sense things had been rocky back in the day. He adjusted his baseball cap over his tousled curly brown locks. He was his daddy’s spitting image, except for his eyes that were like mine. Vibrant blue.
His brothers joined us.
“I love you guys. Now hurry up,” I said as I locked the door behind us. “Daddy says he’s fine, but you know what fine means.” I wrinkled my face, and my sons and I shared a laugh.
“Yeah, we know,” Jamieson said with a loud huff. “Are we going to Aunty Dahlia’s this weekend?”
“Yes. We’re leaving tomorrow morning. I have a big surprise planned for Daddy’s birthday, but don’t tell him.” His small fingers snaked around mine. “Now let’s go. I can’t wait to see you in action.”
Tucker never really had birthday parties growing up, something I learned before Jamieson turned one. Every year now, I planned something special for him. Last year, we spent a weekend in Chicago. This year we were going to Green Mountain. I had rented one of Carter’s cabins and had a caterer coming over, a bouncing house for the kids, and a whiskey degustation for the adults.
With my hands clutched in front of me, Nelly in a baby wrap, I paced along the field and looked at my guys kicking the ball, or at least trying to. They were all focused, doing their best to remember everything their coach taught them.
The twins saw butterflies, and their attention shifted to the flying insects.
“Oliver. Spencer. The game is here,” the coach said, pointing to the soccer field. At three years old—I got pregnant a month after my birthday slash wedding reception—they weren’t interested in playing ball. But the coach insisted on teaching them the game early. I didn’t disagree because the four of them in matching jerseys were a sight warming my insides.
The coach ran after my boys, holding their hands in his, showing them where they should be positioned on the field.
Our gazes locked, and he mouthed, “What should I do?”
I tilted my head back, unable to stop laughing at his expression.
“Not funny,” he mouthed.
I pinched my lips together, my forefinger and thumb almost pressing together, then blew him a kiss.
He grinned, and my pulse picked up like it always did every time we were together. Even after all these years. We had found our rhythm in life. And moving to Nashville had been the best thing we could have done. We were blissfully happy. The kids were thriving. We had family and friends around, and above everything else, we had each other. Good days, bad days, we were it. A mix of chemistry, fireworks, and love, as Tucker once said. And I couldn’t agree more.
The man I loved winked at me, and I knew the promises this simple gesture bore. And in that instant, I loved the coach something fierce.
Thank you for reading Tucker and Addison’s
beautiful and heartbreaking love story.
Grab Riley and Devon’s story, Hope and Country, a story of strength and courage, available HERE
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Or a copy of Legend and Country, Sam Stevens’s story, an age-gap, single dad love story. Meet most of your favorite characters from the Carter Hills Band universe again.
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