White Trash Beautiful
Page 5
“I can’t afford this.” I made a face at him.
He rolled his eyes. “I’ll buy it, just try it on.”
I hesitated, suddenly bristling at his unsolicited generosity. What did he want from me? Did he think of me as a charity case? I didn’t need his handouts. I was doing just fine on my own. I began to place the dress back in his hands. I didn’t need or want someone to swoop in and rescue me from my life. Everything comes with a price, and he would surely want something from me I was not willing to give.
“No, it’s fine . . . this really isn’t my style—”
“Cass. Please just try on the dress. I’m not trying anything here, I just really think it will look beautiful on you. And you . . . you deserve to wear something as stunning as you are tonight, sweetheart.”
I searched his face, trying to figure this guy out.
His fingers wrapped around my hand that was holding the dress as he sighed. “I know you don’t want anyone to help you.” He laughed. “You’re stubborn like I am, but I’ll win this argument.”
I made a face at him, frustrated that he was able to read me so well. I was usually so good at guarding myself. But I wasn’t willing to relent yet. I held his gaze, silently willing him to say more.
“Fine.” He cleared his throat. “I know what it’s like, Cass, to feel like nobody gives a shit about you. I also know that sometimes we need someone else to make us feel like we’re worth something . . . to make us feel special, you know?”
“I’m not.”
Tucker cocked his head to the side, a small, nervous smile playing on his lips. He paused before continuing, “When I was little, my parents were always too busy for me. They were more concerned about chasing their next high than whether or not their son had learned his alphabet or even taken his first steps.” His gaze dropped to our joined hands. I gave him a reassuring squeeze so he would continue. “I was so desperate to have someone notice me, to show me I was important to them, that I spent my fourth birthday in a hospital.” His eyes flicked to mine, gauging my response.
“What happened?” I held my breath as I waited to hear the rest of his story.
“You remember the cartoon Underdog?”
I nodded.
“Well, I was determined to teach myself to fly like him. I figured if I could fly, I could be a superhero and save my family. Only it turns out I couldn’t, and the fall from a tree in our backyard broke my leg.”
“Oh my God.” I covered my mouth with my free hand.
“The worst part was not being found for over an hour.”
“I’m so sorry, Tucker.”
“Don’t be. The point is, you can’t always fix things on your own. Sometimes you need someone to help you. Sometimes we just need to be noticed. I couldn’t fly but I don’t regret trying. How would I know I couldn’t if I didn’t at least try? Besides, if it weren’t for that, I may have spent the rest of my childhood with them. I was removed from the house and spent a few years being sent to different foster homes until I ended up with Dorris. It was worth it in the end.” He smiled, his eyes still downcast. “Sometimes you have to fall before you can fly . . . and sometimes you need someone to catch you.” He looked up. “Even you, Cass.”
He was right. I never tried to step outside my life and make things better. I never took a chance. He was also right about winning this argument. How could I refuse to try on the dress now?
“You win.” I glanced around the store and found a small area curtained off in the far right corner of the shop. I dashed for it as Tucker grabbed a pair of sandals. I slipped off my clothes and pulled the dress over my head. There was no mirror, so I looked down at myself, trying to see if it looked okay.
“Come on, Cass. I’m dying out here.”
I took a deep breath, pulled back the curtain, and stepped out into the main area. Tucker’s eyes lit up and he smiled, but as he looked me over, his expression soon turned dark.
I couldn’t keep from pouting. Did I look that bad? Was his effort to transform this white-trash waitress into a swan that much of a failure? He stepped closer, and I self-consciously turned to go back into the changing area. He grabbed my arm gently before I could enter. I looked down at his hand and realized what had upset him. The dark purple bruises wrapped around my arm like a barbaric tattoo. My hand shot up to cover the area. Tucker clenched his jaw in anger.
He turned to a rack behind him, grabbed a light purple cardigan, and handed it to me. I gave him a small smile as I slipped it off the hanger and slid it on.
“My mother wore one of these every day.” He gave me a weak smile and grabbed my discarded clothing. I tried to push the thought of a young Tucker seeing his mother covered in bruises out of my mind.
I barely recognized myself in the mirror that hung behind the register. I no longer looked like a dirty girl from the trailer park. I raised my chin and smiled at myself.
“You look beautiful.” He took my hand and pulled me to the register.
I slipped out of my sneakers and slid on my new brown strappy sandals, mildly surprised he’d guessed my shoe size. No one had ever called me beautiful before, not even Jax. Hot maybe, but never beautiful. The word made me feel elegant, worldly. I wondered if he said it out of pity.
He grabbed a silver locket that hung next to the register. I gasped when I saw the price, but Tucker slid his credit card to the salesgirl, saying, “Please. I dragged you out tonight, and it’s the least I can do.”
He shoved my old belongings in a bag. We made our way back to the bike and he tucked my bag next to the helmets. “Turn around.”
I hesitated, but slowly turned toward the water.
“Lift your hair,” he whispered next to my ear, his warm, minty breath blowing against my neck.
I gathered my hair and held it up as he slipped the delicate chain around my neck and fastened it. I let my hair fall down over my shoulders and turned to face him, my fingers tracing the small piece of heart-shaped metal.
“Perfect,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.
I couldn’t help but smile.
He took my hand again and pulled me across the cobblestone road. We passed Scarlett’s and made our way a few doors up to one of the livelier bars. The doors were wide-open and a mechanical bull sat straight ahead. I shot him a warning look and he just shook his head and smiled.
“Wait here.” His hand left mine as he snaked his way to the bar.
I stood awkwardly alone as I glanced around the bar. Three guys were looking in my direction, smiling and whispering something. I ran my hand over the front of my new dress and looked away, embarrassed. I wasn’t fooling anyone. I didn’t belong here.
Tucker returned with two beers. He held one out for me and I took it with an appreciative smile. He followed my gaze and glared at the men, who turned back to their table as if they didn’t see us.
“Thanks.” I took a long pull from the bottle, drinking half of it in one long sip. He laughed and ran his hand through his hair, following suit.
We stood together, watching the other patrons dance. The song switched and I immediately recognized it as “Loved” by Damaged, the song that had played at the diner.
Tucker smiled, taking a sip of his drink and setting it on the table behind him. He took the beer from my hand as well, set it down, and pulled me into the middle of the bar. “It’s our song,” he said with a laugh.
“Oh, no . . . no . . . no . . . I don’t dance.” I tried to pull back but he tightened his grip on my hand and winked.
“I don’t have to tell you another sad story to get my way, do I, sweetheart?”
My stomach knotted with guilt as I thought of Jax waiting at home for me. I knew that even if I jumped from a tree, he wouldn’t notice. My heart stopped for a moment, and the world around us seemed to fade away. All rational thought escaped me as I let myself be pulled onto the dance floor.
Once we were deep enough into the crowd, he stopped and pulled me into him. My hands landed on his hard chest as his found their way to my lower back, tugging me flush against him. His hips began to move against mine, and I was stuck, frozen like a deer.
“Just do what I do. It’s not hard.” His hips continued to rock. I slowly began to move against him as my hands slid up to his neck. He pulled me closer until our cheeks touched, his warm breath blowing against my ear. Quietly he sang along to the lyrics as we moved together—“ ‘I want to make you feel beautiful’ ”—sending a chill through my body even in the warmth of the room.
The place was packed, but it felt as if everyone else had disappeared. I closed my eyes and listened to his beautiful voice in my ear. My own private concert.
His hand slowly rubbed my back, relaxing me. In that moment, I forgot about everything. Forgot my life in the trailer park. About Jackson and my mother. All I saw was Tucker. All I felt was the sweet and gentle way he touched me. No one had ever held me like this before. Looking at Tucker, you wouldn’t think he had such a sweet side to him. I realized I had judged him the way people judge me. He was so much more under those sexy tattoos.
One song bled into the next. The tempo picked up, and with a little more liquid courage, I was dancing right along with Tucker. I felt free.
“Where did you learn to dance like this?” I asked loudly into his ear so he could hear me over the music.
“You like that? You know what they say about how a man dances?”
“I don’t want to know what they say.” I laughed and shook my head as our bodies moved together.
“I’d be happy to demonstrate.” He raised an eyebrow as I laughed.
“Now I know you were raised better than to talk to a lady like that.”
“Let’s have a shot,” Tucker said over the pulsing bass of the music. I smiled and nodded. He held up two fingers to the bartender and yelled, “Cuervo.” The bartender quickly poured two shots.
My eyes drifted over the crowd of carefree people letting go and having fun. I smiled as I turned back to Tucker, who was scribbling something down on a sliver of paper for a young brunette who had approached him. She looked as if it took all she had to keep from pouncing on top of him. He was giving out his phone number while he was out with me? I tried to hide the scowl from my face and the disappointment that settled in my belly like a rock. Tucker’s not your boyfriend, I admonished myself. You already have one of those, a fact that you seem all too willing to forget tonight. Tucker grabbed the shots from the bar and held one out for me. I paused, then relented. Why not let the fantasy continue, at least for a little while longer? I took it, my fingers lightly brushing against his. I smiled as I tilted my head back and drank it down in one gulp.
He smiled, taking the empty glass from my hand. “Another?”
“Why not?” I yelled over the music as a huge grin spread across his face.
“You tryin’ to outdrink me? Is this a challenge?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Drinking was in my blood. This was one game he couldn’t win. “You scared?”
“Hell no. I’m excited. Makes getting into your panties even easier.”
I smacked him on the arm with the back of my hand as hard as I could and turned to leave.
His hand shot out, catching me at the wrist. He pulled me back into his chest, causing my breath to catch in my throat. The look in his eyes was deadly serious. “I was kidding, Cass. I don’t want to take advantage of you. I want to have fun with you.”
“Let the fun begin.”
“That’s what I’m talking about!” His hand found its place on the small of my back as we pushed through the crowd to the bar. His fingers slipped lower, and I reached behind me to raise them back into place, glaring at him in warning. He shot me a wink, not the least bit fazed by my attitude.
“Two more,” he called down to the bartender, who nodded in acknowledgment.
The bartender filled his other orders from the far end of the bar, then made his way to our end. I stared at the glass bottles on the wall behind him, watching the lights from the dance floor bounce off them, sending beams of colored light into the mirror behind them. I caught Tucker’s reflection, his eyes locked on me.
“Cuervo?” the bartender yelled over the noise, startling me from my trance.
“Two,” Tucker said, his eyes still not leaving me.
I looked down at the old wooden bar top in front of me, wishing. How did he make me feel so nervous and excited at the same time?
“You want a chaser?” The bartender filled our shot glasses, the liquid spilling over onto the bar.
“I’ve been chasing her all night.” Tucker laughed and I shook my head at the bartender. I grabbed our glasses and turned to hold one up for Tucker. His fingers wrapped around mine, and I was completely lost in the moment. That is, until the man behind me bumped into me, spilling my shot straight down my chest, into my cle**age.
Tucker grabbed a stack of napkins and began to blot the wetness, which caused me to turn ten shades of red before I pulled them from his hand and took care of it myself.
The man behind me was laughing with a friend and didn’t even think to apologize, not that I was surprised.
“Hey! You need to apologize for spilling my girl’s drink.”
“Just throw her an extra twenty. She won’t mind.”
“I mind, you ass**le.”
My head was spinning with how quickly things went from amazing to shit. The bartender whistled through his fingers to get the attention of a bouncer near the door. He pointed to the man behind me, who groaned and slammed his glass on the bar.
“You’ve got to be f**king kidding me. I’m getting kicked out over that bitch?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ll buy it, just try it on.”
I hesitated, suddenly bristling at his unsolicited generosity. What did he want from me? Did he think of me as a charity case? I didn’t need his handouts. I was doing just fine on my own. I began to place the dress back in his hands. I didn’t need or want someone to swoop in and rescue me from my life. Everything comes with a price, and he would surely want something from me I was not willing to give.
“No, it’s fine . . . this really isn’t my style—”
“Cass. Please just try on the dress. I’m not trying anything here, I just really think it will look beautiful on you. And you . . . you deserve to wear something as stunning as you are tonight, sweetheart.”
I searched his face, trying to figure this guy out.
His fingers wrapped around my hand that was holding the dress as he sighed. “I know you don’t want anyone to help you.” He laughed. “You’re stubborn like I am, but I’ll win this argument.”
I made a face at him, frustrated that he was able to read me so well. I was usually so good at guarding myself. But I wasn’t willing to relent yet. I held his gaze, silently willing him to say more.
“Fine.” He cleared his throat. “I know what it’s like, Cass, to feel like nobody gives a shit about you. I also know that sometimes we need someone else to make us feel like we’re worth something . . . to make us feel special, you know?”
“I’m not.”
Tucker cocked his head to the side, a small, nervous smile playing on his lips. He paused before continuing, “When I was little, my parents were always too busy for me. They were more concerned about chasing their next high than whether or not their son had learned his alphabet or even taken his first steps.” His gaze dropped to our joined hands. I gave him a reassuring squeeze so he would continue. “I was so desperate to have someone notice me, to show me I was important to them, that I spent my fourth birthday in a hospital.” His eyes flicked to mine, gauging my response.
“What happened?” I held my breath as I waited to hear the rest of his story.
“You remember the cartoon Underdog?”
I nodded.
“Well, I was determined to teach myself to fly like him. I figured if I could fly, I could be a superhero and save my family. Only it turns out I couldn’t, and the fall from a tree in our backyard broke my leg.”
“Oh my God.” I covered my mouth with my free hand.
“The worst part was not being found for over an hour.”
“I’m so sorry, Tucker.”
“Don’t be. The point is, you can’t always fix things on your own. Sometimes you need someone to help you. Sometimes we just need to be noticed. I couldn’t fly but I don’t regret trying. How would I know I couldn’t if I didn’t at least try? Besides, if it weren’t for that, I may have spent the rest of my childhood with them. I was removed from the house and spent a few years being sent to different foster homes until I ended up with Dorris. It was worth it in the end.” He smiled, his eyes still downcast. “Sometimes you have to fall before you can fly . . . and sometimes you need someone to catch you.” He looked up. “Even you, Cass.”
He was right. I never tried to step outside my life and make things better. I never took a chance. He was also right about winning this argument. How could I refuse to try on the dress now?
“You win.” I glanced around the store and found a small area curtained off in the far right corner of the shop. I dashed for it as Tucker grabbed a pair of sandals. I slipped off my clothes and pulled the dress over my head. There was no mirror, so I looked down at myself, trying to see if it looked okay.
“Come on, Cass. I’m dying out here.”
I took a deep breath, pulled back the curtain, and stepped out into the main area. Tucker’s eyes lit up and he smiled, but as he looked me over, his expression soon turned dark.
I couldn’t keep from pouting. Did I look that bad? Was his effort to transform this white-trash waitress into a swan that much of a failure? He stepped closer, and I self-consciously turned to go back into the changing area. He grabbed my arm gently before I could enter. I looked down at his hand and realized what had upset him. The dark purple bruises wrapped around my arm like a barbaric tattoo. My hand shot up to cover the area. Tucker clenched his jaw in anger.
He turned to a rack behind him, grabbed a light purple cardigan, and handed it to me. I gave him a small smile as I slipped it off the hanger and slid it on.
“My mother wore one of these every day.” He gave me a weak smile and grabbed my discarded clothing. I tried to push the thought of a young Tucker seeing his mother covered in bruises out of my mind.
I barely recognized myself in the mirror that hung behind the register. I no longer looked like a dirty girl from the trailer park. I raised my chin and smiled at myself.
“You look beautiful.” He took my hand and pulled me to the register.
I slipped out of my sneakers and slid on my new brown strappy sandals, mildly surprised he’d guessed my shoe size. No one had ever called me beautiful before, not even Jax. Hot maybe, but never beautiful. The word made me feel elegant, worldly. I wondered if he said it out of pity.
He grabbed a silver locket that hung next to the register. I gasped when I saw the price, but Tucker slid his credit card to the salesgirl, saying, “Please. I dragged you out tonight, and it’s the least I can do.”
He shoved my old belongings in a bag. We made our way back to the bike and he tucked my bag next to the helmets. “Turn around.”
I hesitated, but slowly turned toward the water.
“Lift your hair,” he whispered next to my ear, his warm, minty breath blowing against my neck.
I gathered my hair and held it up as he slipped the delicate chain around my neck and fastened it. I let my hair fall down over my shoulders and turned to face him, my fingers tracing the small piece of heart-shaped metal.
“Perfect,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.
I couldn’t help but smile.
He took my hand again and pulled me across the cobblestone road. We passed Scarlett’s and made our way a few doors up to one of the livelier bars. The doors were wide-open and a mechanical bull sat straight ahead. I shot him a warning look and he just shook his head and smiled.
“Wait here.” His hand left mine as he snaked his way to the bar.
I stood awkwardly alone as I glanced around the bar. Three guys were looking in my direction, smiling and whispering something. I ran my hand over the front of my new dress and looked away, embarrassed. I wasn’t fooling anyone. I didn’t belong here.
Tucker returned with two beers. He held one out for me and I took it with an appreciative smile. He followed my gaze and glared at the men, who turned back to their table as if they didn’t see us.
“Thanks.” I took a long pull from the bottle, drinking half of it in one long sip. He laughed and ran his hand through his hair, following suit.
We stood together, watching the other patrons dance. The song switched and I immediately recognized it as “Loved” by Damaged, the song that had played at the diner.
Tucker smiled, taking a sip of his drink and setting it on the table behind him. He took the beer from my hand as well, set it down, and pulled me into the middle of the bar. “It’s our song,” he said with a laugh.
“Oh, no . . . no . . . no . . . I don’t dance.” I tried to pull back but he tightened his grip on my hand and winked.
“I don’t have to tell you another sad story to get my way, do I, sweetheart?”
My stomach knotted with guilt as I thought of Jax waiting at home for me. I knew that even if I jumped from a tree, he wouldn’t notice. My heart stopped for a moment, and the world around us seemed to fade away. All rational thought escaped me as I let myself be pulled onto the dance floor.
Once we were deep enough into the crowd, he stopped and pulled me into him. My hands landed on his hard chest as his found their way to my lower back, tugging me flush against him. His hips began to move against mine, and I was stuck, frozen like a deer.
“Just do what I do. It’s not hard.” His hips continued to rock. I slowly began to move against him as my hands slid up to his neck. He pulled me closer until our cheeks touched, his warm breath blowing against my ear. Quietly he sang along to the lyrics as we moved together—“ ‘I want to make you feel beautiful’ ”—sending a chill through my body even in the warmth of the room.
The place was packed, but it felt as if everyone else had disappeared. I closed my eyes and listened to his beautiful voice in my ear. My own private concert.
His hand slowly rubbed my back, relaxing me. In that moment, I forgot about everything. Forgot my life in the trailer park. About Jackson and my mother. All I saw was Tucker. All I felt was the sweet and gentle way he touched me. No one had ever held me like this before. Looking at Tucker, you wouldn’t think he had such a sweet side to him. I realized I had judged him the way people judge me. He was so much more under those sexy tattoos.
One song bled into the next. The tempo picked up, and with a little more liquid courage, I was dancing right along with Tucker. I felt free.
“Where did you learn to dance like this?” I asked loudly into his ear so he could hear me over the music.
“You like that? You know what they say about how a man dances?”
“I don’t want to know what they say.” I laughed and shook my head as our bodies moved together.
“I’d be happy to demonstrate.” He raised an eyebrow as I laughed.
“Now I know you were raised better than to talk to a lady like that.”
“Let’s have a shot,” Tucker said over the pulsing bass of the music. I smiled and nodded. He held up two fingers to the bartender and yelled, “Cuervo.” The bartender quickly poured two shots.
My eyes drifted over the crowd of carefree people letting go and having fun. I smiled as I turned back to Tucker, who was scribbling something down on a sliver of paper for a young brunette who had approached him. She looked as if it took all she had to keep from pouncing on top of him. He was giving out his phone number while he was out with me? I tried to hide the scowl from my face and the disappointment that settled in my belly like a rock. Tucker’s not your boyfriend, I admonished myself. You already have one of those, a fact that you seem all too willing to forget tonight. Tucker grabbed the shots from the bar and held one out for me. I paused, then relented. Why not let the fantasy continue, at least for a little while longer? I took it, my fingers lightly brushing against his. I smiled as I tilted my head back and drank it down in one gulp.
He smiled, taking the empty glass from my hand. “Another?”
“Why not?” I yelled over the music as a huge grin spread across his face.
“You tryin’ to outdrink me? Is this a challenge?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Drinking was in my blood. This was one game he couldn’t win. “You scared?”
“Hell no. I’m excited. Makes getting into your panties even easier.”
I smacked him on the arm with the back of my hand as hard as I could and turned to leave.
His hand shot out, catching me at the wrist. He pulled me back into his chest, causing my breath to catch in my throat. The look in his eyes was deadly serious. “I was kidding, Cass. I don’t want to take advantage of you. I want to have fun with you.”
“Let the fun begin.”
“That’s what I’m talking about!” His hand found its place on the small of my back as we pushed through the crowd to the bar. His fingers slipped lower, and I reached behind me to raise them back into place, glaring at him in warning. He shot me a wink, not the least bit fazed by my attitude.
“Two more,” he called down to the bartender, who nodded in acknowledgment.
The bartender filled his other orders from the far end of the bar, then made his way to our end. I stared at the glass bottles on the wall behind him, watching the lights from the dance floor bounce off them, sending beams of colored light into the mirror behind them. I caught Tucker’s reflection, his eyes locked on me.
“Cuervo?” the bartender yelled over the noise, startling me from my trance.
“Two,” Tucker said, his eyes still not leaving me.
I looked down at the old wooden bar top in front of me, wishing. How did he make me feel so nervous and excited at the same time?
“You want a chaser?” The bartender filled our shot glasses, the liquid spilling over onto the bar.
“I’ve been chasing her all night.” Tucker laughed and I shook my head at the bartender. I grabbed our glasses and turned to hold one up for Tucker. His fingers wrapped around mine, and I was completely lost in the moment. That is, until the man behind me bumped into me, spilling my shot straight down my chest, into my cle**age.
Tucker grabbed a stack of napkins and began to blot the wetness, which caused me to turn ten shades of red before I pulled them from his hand and took care of it myself.
The man behind me was laughing with a friend and didn’t even think to apologize, not that I was surprised.
“Hey! You need to apologize for spilling my girl’s drink.”
“Just throw her an extra twenty. She won’t mind.”
“I mind, you ass**le.”
My head was spinning with how quickly things went from amazing to shit. The bartender whistled through his fingers to get the attention of a bouncer near the door. He pointed to the man behind me, who groaned and slammed his glass on the bar.
“You’ve got to be f**king kidding me. I’m getting kicked out over that bitch?”
