My stomach drops. There’s no mistaking the voice. No mistaking who I’m on the phone with. I just called Tuck McCoy daddy. He takes another deep breath and lets it out in a long, drawn-out sigh. “Still need a minute here. To recover. I just didn’t think … I didn’t think we were at that point in our relationship yet.” I roll my eyes and groan. “Tuck, I …” “No, no,” he interrupts. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. I’m really not complaining.” “I didn’t know it was you on the phone.” There’s another beat of silence. When he finally speaks again, his voice is low, rough and gravelly, with a
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