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Her words were followed by a chorus of good-natured laughs from my sisters, all too aware of how quickly news spread in Charlotte Oaks. I shot them a playful glare over my shoulder before heading down the hall, my pulse picking up with each step. I didn’t know whether I hoped Tucker was here because he had an update on the case or to talk about our kiss, but I’d be happy with either.
Well… maybe one more than the other.
I opened the door, and there he stood—tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing that jacket that had been so warm and full of the woodsy, spiced scent of him as I wore it the other night. His bonfire eyes were both sharp and soft as they locked on mine.
“Mornin’,” I said, doing my best to sound casual even though my pulse was doing its best to break the sound barrier.
Without a word, Tucker held out a to-go cup, the familiar logo from the Caffeinated Squirrel stamped across the side. “Seven.”
I blinked, taking the cup from his hand. “Seven bucks for this coffee? What’s in it?”
He let out a gruff laugh, his eyes narrowing slightly in that way they did when he was pretending to be more annoyed than he really was. “Seven people came up to me and asked about that kiss at the scarecrow thing the other night. I thought you said all this would shut people up.”
I stifled a grin, raising the cup to my lips and taking a sip. My shoulders relaxed instantly as the warm, familiar taste of pumpkin chai filled my mouth. Of course he knew my order. He was infuriatingly good at that—remembering the little details, picking up on things I liked without me even having to ask.
“No, sir, I did not,” I said, doing my best to sound innocent as I lowered the cup. “I said it would keep them from matchmakin’. Nothin’ short of muzzlin’ the whole town could shut ’em up.”
Tucker grunted, shifting his weight as he leaned one arm against the doorframe, his broad body taking up the entire space. Even in this casual stance, there was something about him that made my heart race a little faster. He wasn’t just handsome—he was solid. Steady. The kind of man who made you feel like everything was going to be okay, even when you knew he wasn’t planning to stick around for long to make sure it was true.
But I couldn’t let myself get lost in that. This was a fling, remember? No strings, no expectations. If I remembered that, how could I possibly get hurt?
I took another sip of the coffee, using the moment to gather my thoughts, and tried to ignore the way his gaze lingered on me, like he was waiting for me to say something more. Something I wasn’t sure I had the words for yet.
Tucker shifted again, his hand rubbing the back of his neck—a move I’d come to recognize as his tell when he was nervous or uncomfortable. It wasn’t obvious—nothing ever was with him—but after spending these last few days together, I was starting to pick up on the little things.
And right now? He was definitely nervous.
I bit back a sigh, already guessing why. He probably thought I was about to pull some stage-5 clinger nonsense, trying to lock him down because of that kiss.
A kiss that was… okay, yeah, it was earth-shattering, but I wasn’t about to go full-onswan dive into the deep endbecause of one perfect kiss.
To protect him—and myself—I decided to throw him a lifeline. No need to let this thing get too serious or complicated.
“So, speakin’ of that kiss…” I started, trying to keep my tone light as I glanced up at him from under my lashes.
Tucker’s eyes flicked to mine, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. His nerves were barely masked by that stoic expression he always wore, but I could see the tension around his eyes, the way he was bracing for whatever was coming next.
I kept going, hoping to put him at ease. “I just wanted to say, don’t worry about it. It was good, really good,” I said, offering a casual smile that I hoped came across as cool and unaffected. “But I know what this is. It’s a fling, and that’s all it’s gonna be.”
I watched for his reaction, expecting him to relax, to maybe even look relieved. After all, I was practically giving him a get-out-of-jail-free card. No pressure, no expectations.
Instead, I caught the briefest flicker of something on his face—disappointment, maybe? Surprise? Whatever it was, it vanished just as quickly as it appeared, masked by that signature calm of his.
He gave a short nod, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Right. A fling.”
I shifted on my feet, the weight of his gaze making me second-guess myself for a split second. Was that really disappointment I’d seen? Did he expect me to push for more?
No, that didn’t make sense. This was Tucker—Mr. Emotionally Detached. I was probably just imagining it.
Clearing my throat, I pushed forward, determined not to overthink it. “I mean, I already promised not to strangle you with my small-town roots,” I added with a half-hearted laugh. “I’m not one of those girls who’s gonna cling to you just because we had one incredible kiss.”
There. That should do it. Lay it all out, make it clear that I wasn’t about to bethatgirl.
But even as I said the words, my mind flickered back to that kiss—the way it made me feel like the whole world had meltedaway. But it was the first and only time Tucker had kissed me. Since then? Nothing.
Oh, sure, we’d been acting like boyfriend and girlfriend in public, playing our parts flawlessly for the town gossips. He’d been sweet, flirtatious even, with his arm casually around my shoulders, teasing me here and there like it was the most natural thing in the world. But there hadn’t been another kiss since that night in the maze.
Not a single one.
