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But I wasn’t laughing. “I’m serious, Tucker. Not only could he be the one who shot you, but could he have been the partner who tried to kill Syd? Maybe he’s the one who made Syd disappear, and now he’s tryin’ to get his hands on the treasure by hirin’ you to do the dirty work. Then, maybe he changed his mind and figured he’d make sure the only other people who knew about the situation wouldn’t be able to talk about it if they were six feet under.”
The smirk faded from Tucker’s face, and it was more obvious than clouds in the sky on a rainy day that he’d already considered the possibility. He let out a low sigh and shook his head. “I don’t know. If he’s the partner, he’s already tried to kill Syd once before so he could get his hands on the treasure. If he’d finally succeeded, why would he even think to hire me to recover it? Roy’s already dead, and I wouldn’t put it past a treasure-stealing murderer to break into Hope’s basement and take it back himself, you know?”
That made sense, I guessed, but something still didn’t sit right with me. The idea of this client lurking around town, pushing Tucker to get answers—it felt too convenient. Too... dangerous.
“Are you sure?” I pressed, narrowing my eyes. “Because you didn’t tell me about him before, and now I’m wonderin’ what else you’re not sayin’.”
Tucker gave me a look that was a mix of exasperation and admiration, like he couldn’t believe how far I’d taken the theory but was also impressed by how sharp I was.
“I’m sure,” he said, his voice firm. “Colt and I sent him home this morning. We told him we were working on some stuff and that it would take longer than we thought. He didn’t need to stick around.”
Relief washed over me at that. At least the guy wasn’t hanging around town anymore, lurking in the shadows like some kind of villain.
“Don’t worry about my client, okay?” Tucker added, finally rising from the swing and stepping closer, dropping his voice into a low, reassuring tone. “He’s out of the picture for now. We’re focusing on finding Syd, which might take a while, and that’s where the real answers are going to come from.”
I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. The case, the treasure, Tucker... It was all so tangled.
But even as the logical part of my brain urged me to focus on the case, my heart couldn’t help but drift back to Tucker—the way he stood so close to me, the way his voice sent shivers down my spine despite the seriousness of the conversation.
It was hard to separate the two—the case and him. The lines were blurring. My heart raced with all the implications of the mystery—and everything Tucker wasn’t saying—and I caught a glimpse of something different in his eyes. His lips were set in that serious line I’d come to associate with “investigation mode,” but there was something else lurking beneath the surface. Something softer. Warmer.
And I didn’t miss the way his gaze flicked down to my mouth.
Okay, maybe we weren’t done talking about that kiss after all.
“I’m impressed, you know,” he said, stepping a little closer. His voice was low, almost teasing, but there was a sincerity behind it that tugged at my heart. “You’re a better PI than I gave you credit for.”
I smirked, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in my chest. “Well, don’t get too used to me helpin’ you out. I’m not lookin’ for a new career or anythin’. Besides, datin’ guys I work with isn’t my strong suit.”
His lips curved into that slow, devastating grin—the one that made my knees feel a little weak. “Shame. You’d make a great partner.”
I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Don’t let Colt hear you tryin’ to replace him with me.”
“Good point. Don’t wanna hurt the guy’s feelings,” he admitted, his voice dipping as he shifted forward, closing the gap between us.
“Besides, you’re only sayin’ that because I might be right about your client.”
He shrugged, his gaze flicking up to my hairline as he tapped my temple ever-so-gently. “Or maybe I just like the way you think.”
There it was again—that spark of something more. The playful banter, the subtle teasing, the way he was looking at me like he couldn’t decide whether to finish this conversation or kiss me senseless.
My breath hitched, and I fought the urge to bite my lip as I stared up at him.
For a split second, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of us—Tucker and me standing on my porch, the cool morning air swirling around us, and the tension crackling like electricity in the space between us.
And then, before I could say anything, Tucker closed the distance, his hand sliding around my waist as he pulled me in for a kiss.
It wasn’t like the kiss in the corn maze, which started out so soft and tentative while we were testing the waters, only to build into a blaze one sigh at a time.
This one was different.
This one was fire and heat right from the get, an undeniable, hurricane-force pull that had me welding myself to him before I even had a chance to catch my breath.
His lips were firm, commanding, like he’d been holding back and couldn’t any longer. And I kissed him back just as fiercely, the coffee cup forgotten in my hand as I reached up with the other to grip the collar of his jacket, pulling him even closer.
All I could think about was the way Tucker felt against me—his warmth, his strength, the way his lips moved against mine like he was acting purely on instinct.
My heart pounded against my ribcage, my mind spun out of control, and I knew at that moment that this—whatever it was—was a whole lot more than just a fling.
