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Shifty grumbled, tossing a look over his shoulder before turning back to us. “Y’all wanna come inside? Bernice has fresh cornbread, and I’m starvin’.”
“Sure, we’ll be right there,” Dakota said, her voice as cheerful as ever.
Shifty disappeared into the house, the screen door creaking shut behind him.
As soon as he was out of earshot, I turned to Dakota, raising our joined hands for emphasis. “Why is this necessary?” I asked, my voice low, frustration simmering just beneath the surface.
“Because clearly Shifty knows more about the treasure?—”
“That’s not what I mean,” I cut her off, giving her a pointed look. “Why is this necessary?” I wiggled our hands, then gently peeled hers off of mine with my free hand, releasing the pressure.
She chuckled dryly as she held up her hand with her fingers spread wide. “Five.”
I frowned, not following. “I’m not giving you a high five. Answer my question.”
“I’m tryin’ to! Five is the number of times today that I was asked about my new beau. Five separate people, in various statesof undress, some bandaged and bleedin’, askin’ about you and me.”
“At work?”
She tilted her head. “Where else do you think I hang out with half-naked, bleedin’ people? Don’t answer that. Point is,that’swhy this is necessary.”
I huffed out a breath, running a hand through my hair. “Because five people asked you about us…”
Her lips quirked into a knowing smile. “How many people asked you about me today?”
More than a few, if I was honest. But no way I was admitting that to her. Instead, I looked away, pretending to study the junkyard. The truth was, I’d stopped counting after the fifth nosy townsperson had ambushed me with questions about “having my hands on Dakota Cole in the middle of the square in broad daylight.”
It was intrusive, annoying, and professionally inconvenient. I was supposed to be in this town to ask the questions—not answer them, especially not about a non-existent relationship with a woman who seemed to enjoy making my life as complicated as possible.
“I’ll take your silence to mean you’ve had a few run-ins with the friendly neighborhood gossips?” Dakota asked, her voice smug.
“A few, yeah,” I grumbled. “But what good does it do to encourage them by pretending we’re a couple?”
“Lemme paint a picture for you right quick. Imagine you’re just mindin’ your own business, tryin’ to find some long-lost pirate treasure…”
“Perfectly normal,” I muttered under my breath.
“And then—wham! Someone locks you in a closet with no one to keep you company but me.”
I stared at her, completely lost. “Uh…”
“Or,” she continued, ignoring my confusion, “maybe you’re strollin’ around Main Street when a fluffy lil’ troublemaker fakes a Lassie scenario. You follow her, thinkin’ you’re gonna save Timmy from the well, only for it to be me sittin’ there at the end of that wild goat chase.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the start of a headache. “Why would?—”
“Or, and this might be the most likely scenario of all,” she interrupted, her grin widening, “you can’t go anywhere in this town without someone bringin’ me up. They’d either be talkin’ straight to you or just loudly chat at the next table, but you’d never do a thing in this town without thinkin’, hearin’, or talkin’ about me.”
I sighed, exasperated. “Because you’re apparently obsessed with me?”
“No, you scary summer child, because these people are obsessed withus.Trust me, Tuck, when this town sets out to play matchmaker, ain’t nobody gets out alive.”
Her words sounded ridiculous—like something out of a rom-com or small-town fairy tale—but the look on her face said she was dead serious. I stared at her, wondering how on earth I’d ended up here, navigating a situation that felt more like amateur hour at a county fair than anything resembling a professional investigation.
“Why do I feel like I’ve stumbled into a Stephen King novel? Is there an invisible dome around the town, too?” I quipped, trying to mask how out of place I felt.
“There might as well be if the Charlotte Oaks Book Club ladies think there’s a match to be made. If we don’t take the wind out of their sails by pretendin’ we’re already together, it’ll only be a matter of time before the town meetings would start.”
“To discuss us?” I asked, skeptical but also starting to grasp how seriously she took this.
