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She waved a hand. “Details, details. I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t get a little clumsy and tangled up around his friend the other day. What was his name?”
“Colton.”
“The two of them probably have countless women in small towns around the country feelin’ the way we do right now.”
“Like Dean and Sam from Supernatural?” I asked with a laugh.
“Exactly like that. They roll into town with their charm and mystery-solvin’ mojo… then breeze on out the way they came without so much as a kiss for the pretty girls they meet on the case.”
“Well, I s’pose the silver linin’ here is that I’m not alone in my crush. But here’s the big question: which one’s Dean and which one’s Sam?”
We laughed, both of us big enough fans of the show to know exactly which of our real-life crushes belonged to which of the fictional ones, and we parted ways without even saying it out loud.
It made sense, though. I’d always been a Dean girl.
Tucker was standing outside the hospital when my shift ended, just as he’d said he would. And man, if my heart didn’t skip a beat at just the sight of him, leaning against a bike rack with his strong arms crossed over his broad chest. His steady posture and the way he stood as if he had all the time in the world made it look like waiting for me was the most natural thing in the world for him.
He held a manila envelope in his hand, and my fingers itched to reach for it, curiosity gnawing at me like a kid waiting for Christmas morning.
Hopefully, whatever was in that folder would stop me from the dream world I’d slipped and fallen into the second I laid eyes on him outside my work. The image of him waiting for me after a long shift was more than I could handle. Looking like he was planning to walk me home, ask about my day, maybe even tell me about his.
It was a silly thing to think about, considering we hardly knew each other, and what we did know spoke of completely different lifestyles and future plans. But that hadn’t gotten in the way of me picturing a future where this would be real. A future that involved a house with a porch swing, one he’d be happy to return home to after solving his cases. A future where, instead of always looking at whatever town he was in as a temporary home, he’d finally have one to speak of.
Focus, Dakota.I needed to get my hands on that folder, STAT.
When I approached, he straightened from the rack, his eyes briefly meeting mine before flicking down to the envelope. I swiped it from his unsuspecting clutches before he could say a word, unable to stop myself from the need to see what was inside.
“Whatcha got here?” I asked, trying to sound casual, though I knew I was far from it.
His eyes sparked with amusement even as his lips pulled into a disapproving frown. “Manners, much?”
I grinned up at him, enjoying the banter. “Always. My momma raised me right.”
“Uh-huh,” he muttered, clearly unconvinced.
I paused, fingers hovering over the flap of the folder, giving him a chance to stop me. For all I knew, this folder contained personal stuff—his doctor’s notes after a follow-up from his butt wound or maybe something like tax paperwork.Okay, Dakota, you can’t just invade someone’s privacy like this.I hesitated, waiting for him to snatch it back. But since he didn’t, I opened the folder and scanned the pages.
“Wow, is this for real?” I asked, flipping through the contents. My heart picked up speed at the sight of detailed maps, historical records, and other official-looking documents that painted a picture of something way bigger than I’d imagined.
Tucker shrugged, his voice low as he responded. “It’s everything we have about the exact ship that went down with my client’s treasure on board.”
I squinted at the papers, flipping through the folder like I was searching for something. “Where’s the info about him recovering it?” I asked, glancing up at him. “I don’t see any news articles or photos of him with his diving crew.”
Tucker's brows drew together slightly as if he’d anticipated the question but didn’t have the answer ready. “He said he didn’t publicize the discovery,” he explained, though his tone almost made it sound like he was questioning it too.
I raised a brow, stopping mid-page. “What?”
“You’re…” He trailed off, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to pin down the right words.
I winced, bracing myself for whatever blunt observation was coming next. Tucker wasn’t one for beating around the bush. But when nothing came, I lifted a brow. “Somethin’?”
“Yeah,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching as if holding back something else.
“So you’ve said,” I replied with a smirk, handing the folder back to him. “Don’t you find it a little weird he didn’t publicize it? Isn’t half the fun of treasure-hunting telling people about the treasure you found?”
He shrugged, his eyes flicking up to meet mine briefly. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Sure you would,” I said, leaning toward him as if daring him to be honest. “Don’t you get just a teeny bit of satisfaction when you solve a case?”
