Perfect Song (Mason Creek Book 2) by Lauren Runow (christmas read aloud .txt) 📕

Tucker’s music add to the calm of this lazy morning.

The man was right. He’s good with his hands. A mechanic and a musician is a lethal combination.

I’m giggling to myself when the music stops. In fact, it’s been playing and then stopping a few times this morning.

A frustrated grunt echoes through the air, and I pause to see if I can hear it more clearly.

There’s another grunt, followed by a few grumbled expletives. I sit up in bed to look out the glass doors and see what’s the matter.

A shirtless Tucker is sitting on the deck off our room.

He’s playing his guitar and then stops to stare at his hands, like they’re misbehaved children, open and closing them in a way that looks forced.

His shoulders are tense, the sweet gaze of his eyes are narrowed in frustration, and his brow is crinkled and upset.

I slide out of bed and grab his T-shirt from last night off the floor, slide it over my head, and go out to see what’s wrong.

When I open the sliding glass door, he instantly sits up straighter and sets his guitar down.

Turning to me, he holds out his hand for me to join him. His usual grin is there, just more forced than this robust man usually bears.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says.

“Morning,” I say tentatively.

If I hadn’t had seen him frustrated, then I would have never known. As I step closer and take his hand, his body, which was tight and rigid, softens, and his eyes become more welcoming.

He guides me to sit on his lap, and then he runs his hand up my thigh and kisses my neck.

“Damn, you look sexy in my shirt.”

“Isn’t that a country song?” I tease, running my fingers through his beard.

He laughs out loud. “You’re thinking of ‘You Look Good in My Shirt’ by Keith Urban.”

“Sexy sounds way better than good.”

“I‘ll play it for you at one of my shows.”

“What about right now? A private concert for just me?”

He glances down at his hand, and his brow furrows before he looks up at me with a crooked grin. “I think a sexy serenade might be better. You certainly liked it last time.” He softly bites my neck, making me giggle. “But then again, everyone would know I’m singing it about you, and I don’t want other men getting any ideas.”

“You have nothing to worry about with me. I’m all yours.” I lean in and kiss him deeply, biting his lower lip as I pull away. “Just don’t sing it at any show my parents come to.”

That elicits a light laugh from him, and he pulls me tighter onto his lap.

We sit in silence, holding each other, when I ask, “What was wrong earlier?”

I feel him shake his head against my body. “It was nothing.”

Pulling back, I look him in the eyes. “Sure didn’t seem like nothing. What’s wrong with your hand? I saw you opening and closing it, and you were having trouble playing.”

He rests his head against my chest. He’s unusually quiet, and the way his arms are tense, it makes me wonder if he’s thinking about something, so I give him all the time he needs.

After a minute or so, he says, “I’m not sure what’s going on, but it’s getting worse.”

“How so?” I run my fingers through his hair, making sure he knows he can tell me anything.

He takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly. “I’ve just been noticing something’s going on with my hands. At work, I’ve been having trouble gripping things, and this morning, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Do you need to see a doctor?”

He shrugs. “It’s no big deal. I’ve had it happen before, and it went away. It just seems to have been getting worse more recently, but I’m not concerned. Do you want some breakfast? Should we order in or go out?”

I grab his face and turn it toward me. “Tucker, I see this is really bothering you. Talk to me.”

He sticks his lip in between his teeth and stares out to the mountains. I wait and watch as his eyes close, and he lets out a heavy breath and nods ever so slightly.

“Something feels off. It’s like I have pins and needles in my arms and legs. It’s uncomfortable, and it kept me up all night. That’s why I got up and came out here to play. See if I could shake whatever this feeling is out of my body.”

“How long have you been out here?”

“I watched the sun come up.”

“Oh, Tucker. Did you get any sleep?”

He shrugs. “Not much. It’s okay though. Come on. Let’s get some grub. I’m starving.”

I hop off his lap, so he can stand. I know him opening up to me like that was a big step for him, and I don’t want to push it. What we shared last night was very special, but we’re still new, so more personal things like this will take time.

After getting ready, we head to a diner across from the hotel. As we sit down, I notice Tucker’s hand for the first time. The tops of his knuckles are scratched in scrapes and cuts.

I reach over, covering it with mine. “I never thanked you for fighting for my honor last night,” I say.

“You’re thanking me? I should be thanking you for forgiving me. I was an animal.”

“You were, and I don’t condone it—unless someone’s life is in danger. And trust me when I say, mine wasn’t. I know what that’s like.”

He inhales and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry.”

“The way you went about it and how far you took it was wrong, but if I’m being honest …” I look at him and shrug. “I like that you want to protect me. I didn’t realize how much I needed that in my life until you leaped off that stage. Turns out, every damsel needs a hero.”

He grabs a menu and tries to forget about it all while focusing on food instead.

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