And then, to compound his stupidity, he’d let himself be dragged into a conversation about kissing and the merits of making out. He’d told himself he was just trying to impart an important message—but it’d been hard to not think about kissing her as he’d spoken, making out with her, and damn if that hadn’t got his motor running.

Between the dress and images of them fooling around, he’d been hard as the table beneath his elbows, and he’d thanked God for the cover of heavy denim across his crotch.

Just thinking about it caused his dick to stir.

A flash of light grabbed his attention as he turned back to the bar. Through the pane of glass in the front door, he could see heavy rain as it fell in front of the streetlight opposite.

Which also made him think of Della.

They’d been out in the light rain on Tuesday, and he’d mentioned driving at night in the rain would be a good idea, and there it was—the perfect opportunity. Despite his dick going rogue. Pulling his phone from his back pocket, he sent her a text.

It’s raining. You want to go out for a lesson?

It was entirely possible she was sound asleep and wouldn’t answer, but if she was awake, then why not? Who knew if they’d get this chance again before she took her test?

Her instant Hell yes! reply brought a smile to his face. Not asleep, then. Her next text was just as fast. What about Jack’s?

Tucker tapped a response. Bryce is here.

Bryce, who was one of Annie’s short-order cooks during the day, worked the kitchen at Jack’s from six till close and ran the bar if Tucker ever needed time off. Like an overnight trip to Denver. He could easily hold down the fort tonight.

Tucker strode to the end of the bar and stuck his head out the back. “Hey, Bryce? You okay to take over and close for me?”

“Sure thing.” He put the knife down and wiped his hands on his apron.

“Thanks.”

Tucker sent another quick text. Pick you up in ten.

Three little dots appeared on the screen, and he waited for her reply. No need. Arlo’s going to drive me over.

Without thinking about it, he fired off another text. Maybe you should ask Arlo to take you?

It made sense, if Arlo was coming out anyway. And this way she could get her lesson while Tucker avoided being in cupcake hell. The last thing his hair-trigger dick needed right now was to be in close confines with Della while the rain drizzled down and his pickup smelled like an episode of The Great British Baking Show.