10. Dakota
After twenty minutes of searching Hope’s basement—which was a lot bigger than I expected and looked like the locksmith on Main Street’s shop, only dirtier and with no windows—we weren’t any closer to finding the treasure.
Much to my dismay.
Not that I wanted there to be stolen treasure in Hope’s possession, but existing in general? You bet your biscuits.
“Do you plan to break into every safe?” I asked, watching Tucker as he meticulously used the older man’s own tools to raid his many safes. The look of focus on his face was something else—intense, almost like he was unraveling a puzzle he couldn’t walk away from.
“If that’s what it takes, yeah,” he replied, his brows furrowed as he bent down over a safe that was taller than I was.
I huffed dramatically, using my hands to pull myself into a seated position on top of a silver safe we’d already busted into and then locked back up, disappointed to find it empty.
“Too bad we couldn’t train Gertie to sniff it out,” I mused. “That old girl has many skills, but sniffin’ out treasure ain’t one. Unfortunately.”
“Gertie?” Tucker asked over his shoulder, glancing at me with a quizzical look.
“The pygmy goat. Surely, you’ve seen her followin’ you around town since you first showed up.” His lips pulled into a line, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You have, huh? She’s about yay big, cute as a button, kinda scary at the same time?”
He harrumphed, which only made me grin wider before he turned back to the safe. “Yeah, I’ve seen her.”
“She’s kinda my little sister. If you ask my momma, anyway.” I swung my legs idly, feeling strangely at ease.
He grunted in acknowledgment but didn’t stop working on the safe.
“My daddy bought her from a local farm a little ways down the road after he broke my momma’s favorite Corning Ware dish,” I prattled on, the words spilling out in a playful rhythm. “But, ya know, it wasn’t just that it was her favorite. It was crazy valuable. Did you know some of those old Corning Wares can go for thousands of dollars these days, dependin’ on the design?”
“Nope.” His voice was clipped, but I could tell I had his attention by the slight pause in his movements.
“Well, it’s true,” I said. “So, Daddy bought her the goat as an apology, and for a minute, we called her Gertie the Guilt Goat. But she’s earned herself several other nicknames in the time since, on account of how helpful she can be in certain circumstances. Or how mischievous.” I tapped the edge of the safe with my boot. “Either way, too bad she isn’t here with the skills to help us now.”
“I’ve got the skills area covered,” he muttered, his hands moving deftly over the safe as it clicked and released. He straightened, the safe finally giving in to his expertise.
Perfect timing to prove his point.
I hopped off the safe I’d perched on and danced over to him, excitement bubbling up. “Anythin’?”
Tucker rifled through the contents of the large safe, his frown deepening. “No gold doubloons.”
“Shucks.” I pouted, hands on my hips as I peeked in beside him.
He looked down at me, his expression somewhere between exasperated and amused. “You’re…”
“Way too chatty?” I supplied, tilting my head with a knowing grin.
“Yeah.” He stood up straight, towering over me.
“Kinda obnoxious?” I asked with a playful wink, sensing the tension but enjoying the way he fought it.
The corner of his mouth twitched just enough to let me know he wasn’t completely immune. “When you wanna be.”
I laughed. “Makes me great sidekick material. Know what I mean?”
“Not really,” he grumbled, turning his attention back to the safes, though I caught the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes.
“Sure you do. Somethin’ tells me Colton is great at comic relief, too.”
“You think you’re funny?” Tucker asked, his voice low as he leaned against the safe, crossing his arms.
“Sure I am. I heard you chuckle—if that’s what you could call it anyway—when I told that story about Gertie. You’re not immune to my charms.” I met his gaze, daring him to deny it.
“Is anyone?” he replied, his tone deadpan, though his eyes softened just a touch.
I wrinkled my nose, the question landing harder than I’d expected. The moment hung between us, and I quickly masked the sting with a bright smile. “Anyway, which safe is next?”
He narrowed his eyes at me, but thankfully just closed the safe and moved along. For the next hour, he cleared the rest of the safes in this maze of big and small ones, and when I’d pointed out smaller boxes for him to pick the locks of, he only shook his head, saying he had a feeling 1.2 million dollars in doubloons needed a bigger treasure chest.
Finally, when it seemed like there were no other obvious choices for him to search, he put his hands on his hips and spun to face me. “I need to get with Colt and regroup.”
“You believe me now?”
“About what?”
“That there’s no pirate treasure in Hope’s basement.”
“Ah, well,” he said, pausing as he looked around the room. “No.”
“Seriously? I just watched you break into every safe down here—very impressive, by the way—and we didn’t find anythin’. Where else do you think it could be?”
I hopped down, and even though I’d expected my left foot to hit the floor the way the right one had, it didn’t. Instead, it crashed right through a loose floorboard. I started to go down at a weird angle, some part of my brain immediately registering that my ankle would surely get the short end of the stick in this situation. I closed my eyes and shot out my hands as I fell, then yelped when I was plucked from the hole in the floor.
Tucker's strong arms wrapped around me, snatching me from the air just before I hit the ground. But he must have miscalculated something in his rescue attempt because we fell in a tangle of limbs, Tucker twisting his body at the last second, so he took the brunt of the impact.
I landed on top of him with an "oof," my face mere inches from his.
For a moment, we just stared at each other, breathing heavily. His eyes, usually so guarded, held a flicker of concern before it turned to what almost looked like amusement. I could feel the solid warmth of his body beneath me, his heart beating rapidly against my own, and a tingly awareness spread through me as I fought to breathe evenly.
Surely, he could feel how uneven my breaths were, couldn’t he? Hopefully, he figured it was due to the near-twisted ankle situation and not because it was the second time in as many days that he’d taken my breath away in an exaggerated move to save me.
"You okay?" he asked gruffly, his voice sending a shiver down my spine.
"Yeah," I managed. "Thanks to you. Guess I owe you one, huh?"
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Or two.”
“I’m not a magnet for trouble, ya know. Even if that’s what it looks like from this angle.”
“That's not how I see it."
Curiosity wove its way through the haze of attraction, and I raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? How do you see it then?"
His gaze dropped briefly to my lips before meeting my eyes again. "I see a woman who's determined to help her friend, no matter the risk to herself."
“Are you scoldin’ me for risk-takin’ again?” I whispered.
“No. I’m complimenting you, Wildcard. You’ve got guts.” His voice was a low rumble I could feel in my bones.
I blinked in surprise at the compliment, a pleased flush heating my cheeks. "Oh."
Tucker's gaze lingered on my face, his eyes darkening with an intensity that made my breath catch. Slowly, he lifted a hand to brush a stray curl from my cheek, his calloused fingers grazing my skin with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with his rough exterior. His eyes searched mine, and I found myself leaning in ever so slightly, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
His gaze dropped to my lips again, and my breath caught in my throat.
Was he going to kiss me? Did I want him to?
Just as our lips were about to meet, a loud, indignant bleat from the top of the stairs shattered the moment. We jerked apart, heads swiveling to find the source of the noise. There, at the top of the stairs, stood Gertie, her little goat face scrunched up in clear disapproval.
The sound of hooves clattering against the wooden steps filled the air as Gertie charged into the basement, and I couldn't help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Tucker wore a bemused expression on his face as Gertie trotted over to us, her ears flicking back and forth.
She stopped right next to our faces, her nose mere inches from ours. With a huff, she wedged her little head between us, clearly displeased by our compromising position. Her soft fur tickled my cheek as she bleated again, clearly scolding us.
I rolled off the behemoth who’d broken my fall with his body, landing with a thud on the dusty floor beside him. He sat up, resting one long arm on his bent knee, the other propped on the floor as he stared down the goat. “How’d you get in here?”
“She doesn’t talk, ya know.”
He flicked me a glance, then turned back to the newest member of the kissing police. “Did you leave the front door open?”
I knew the question was for me, not the goat, so I shook my head. “No, but there was a window open in the kitchen. She’s kind of a ninja, too. Y’all would get along great.”
He grunted, then turned his attention to the hole I nearly fell through. I felt the shift in him almost immediately, and I popped up from my position on the ground to see what he’d seen.
"Is that…?" I asked, scooting closer to get a better look—but that also meant closer to him, the warmth of his body radiating in the chilly basement air.
Gertie huffed, as if already disapproving of our proximity.
I chuckled softly, leaning back on my heels, as Tucker reached down to fish the key from between the floorboards. His strong hands made the delicate object look even smaller.
“This doesn’t go to anything I’ve seen down here,” he muttered, studying the intricate design of the key. His brow furrowed, the intensity of his focus only making my heart beat faster.
“Tucker.” My voice came out quieter than I’d intended, and when he looked up at me, his eyes locking with mine, it felt like the air between us thickened.
“What?” he asked, curiosity sparking in his eyes, as if he knew exactly where I was going with this.
"You’ve gotta let me help you with this case. Please."
The corner of his lips twitched, just enough to hint at a smile, as he held the key up between us. "You true crime girls, I swear."
"Tucker, that key looks like it fell straight outta Jack Sparrow’s pocket. Please. I’ve gotta be a part of this."
He narrowed his eyes at me, but it wasn’t in frustration. No, it was something else. Something… teasing. The way he was looking me over made my stomach flip. “I don’t know. Will you promise to stay out of trouble if I do?”
I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. "No."
He finally chuckled for real, a deep, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down my spine.
"What?” I asked. “You want me to lie to you?"
"Never."
"I can promise that."
"Never to lie to me?" His tone softened just slightly, enough to make me pause.
"Yep. We can shake on it right here." I offered my hand, holding it out between us, the air charged with something unspoken. “But you have to promise the same thing.”
He stared down at my hand, and for a second, I thought he might not take it. But then, slowly, he reached out, his much larger hand enveloping mine. The warmth of his skin against mine sent a bolt of electricity up my arm, making me catch my breath.
But before I even had a chance to process that spark, a new sensation shocked me even harder.
Wet and slimy.
We both jerked our heads down just in time to see Gertie’s tongue retract after giving our joined hands a thorough lick.
I groaned, though my laugh broke through at the sight of Tucker grimacing as goat spit dripped from his hand. Well, at least it was worse for him than for me.
“ She can’t help,” Tucker muttered, shaking off the goat slobber with a disgusted look.
“Try and stop her,” I shot back with a grin.