14. Dakota
“There’s so much to unpack from that conversation with Shifty,” I mused, breaking the silence as we drove into town. Tucker had been quiet for the first few minutes, his gaze focused straight ahead, lost in thought. But if he planned to sit there and puzzle out this treasure hunt on his own, I wasn’t having it. “Do you think Syd’s partner is your client?”
His lips pressed into a tight line as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel, but he didn’t immediately answer.
“Oh, come on now. Don’t clam up on me! We’re partners, remember?”
His eyes flicked toward me, one brow lifting. “We’re apparently more than that.”
I waved a dismissive hand. “Only for show.”
He sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over the trim beard along his jaw, his movements slow and deliberate. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this.”
“Which part?” I asked, turning in my seat to face him. His profile was sharp and unreadable, but something told me it wasn’t just the fake-dating part that was bothering him.
“We’re about to go meet your family, Wildcard,” he said, his voice low and gruff, but there was an edge of unease in it that I didn’t miss. “I’m going to sit at their dinner table and pretend to be interested in you. It doesn’t sit right.”
“Aren’t you?”
His gaze cut to me, a look of surprise crossing his face. “Aren’t I what?”
“Interested in me?” I asked, not even bothering to stop the sly smile that spread across my lips.
The strangled laugh that burst out of him warmed me from the inside out. I took it a step further and poked his massive bicep—which I quickly regretted. Even through his thick jacket, Tucker’s arm felt like a brick wall, and my finger throbbed like I’d just jabbed it against a tree trunk.
“It doesn’t matter if I’m interested in you,” he hedged, sliding me a smirk. “Who wouldn’t be?”
I chuckled bitterly, turning my gaze out the window. “Well, currently, a man I like to refer to as Dr. Dummy . He was into me for a hot minute, but apparently, I’m…”
When I didn’t finish the sentence, I felt Tucker’s curious gaze on me. He made a slight motion with his hand between us, encouraging me to go on. “You’re…?”
I bit my lip, suddenly wishing I hadn’t brought it up. “Never mind. I don’t wanna talk about that sourpuss. If I’m off work, I like to pretend he doesn’t exist.”
“You work with your ex?” Tucker asked, and there was something close to disbelief in his voice.
“Again, it’s like you think I hang out with patients and doctors at Friday night bonfires.”
Tucker shook his head, a low rumble of a laugh escaping as he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “Fake-dating you doesn’t sit right because I won’t be in town long enough for it to go anywhere,” he admitted, his voice dropping into something more serious. “Why play with fire?”
Biting back the sting of his words, I grappled for a way to turn the conversation around before it could settle too deep. “Have I told you your eyes remind me of a bonfire?”
I propped my elbow on the center console and rested my chin in my hand, grinning at him, hoping he’d ease up a little.
He frowned at me, though I could see the faint hint of a smile beneath his beard. “Nope, you haven’t mentioned that.”
“Well, they do.”
“Hmm.”
“Tuck, you can relax. I already said I wasn’t gonna make you stay, and I meant it. Think of this whole thing as an adventure. We’ll pretend there’s no work to be done in the matchmakin’ department so the town leaves us alone, and we’ll solve your case. Then, you, your bestie, and your brother can slide on outta here and never look back.”
The words felt heavier in my chest than they should have. Why did the thought of Tucker leaving feel like a punch to the gut? It was exactly how this would play out, right? But as I said it, I hated it. I hated thinking about him leaving, and I hated saying it out loud even more.
Tucker glanced at me, his expression softening slightly, as if my words had managed to reassure him. He nodded, and for the rest of the drive to the B&B to pick up Austin, he seemed more relaxed, sinking into the seat like the weight of the situation had finally lifted off his shoulders.
But I wasn’t sure I felt the same. I stared out the window, chewing on my lip, trying to ignore the way my heart had tightened just thinking about him leaving. I didn’t want to get attached, but something about Tucker made it feel inevitable.
By the time we reached the B&B and Austin hopped into the truck, Tucker hadn’t said much more. He seemed lost in thought, probably working out details of the case, which made sense. He was a guy whose focus could probably border on obsession once he got wrapped up in something.
He let Austin and me chat the whole way to my parents’ house without chiming in much, but I could tell by the way his eyes flicked between us that he was listening, probably trying to figure out how to get through this family dinner unscathed.
When we pulled up to my childhood home—and yes, I still lived there, but only because I was trying to save up for my dream home and had never found a good enough reason to waste money on rent—the porch light was already on, casting a warm glow across the front yard.
I gazed up, trying to see it from a newcomer’s perspective. It was a big, welcoming house—the kind that seemed to say, "Come on in and stay a while." The porch swing creaked softly in the breeze, and the smell of something delicious—probably my Momma’s and Momma Wilson’s famous cooking—drifted through the open windows of the truck.
Tucker parked, and I watched as he took a deep breath, his shoulders tensing as though he was gearing up for battle instead of dinner with my family.
I nudged him with my elbow. "You ready?"
He gave me a sidelong glance, his lips pulling into a thin line. "As ready as I'll ever be."
"Don’t worry, they don’t bite. Well, except maybe Gertie. But Pheebs will call her off before she does too much damage, I’m sure."
"Pheebs?"
"Phoebe. Jackson and Bailey’s oldest. She’s eleven, but don’t let her size fool you. She’s already a better dancer than I’ll ever be and has a sharp tongue to match. Gertie’s her BFF."
“I’ll watch out for both of them,” he muttered under his breath.
As we walked up the porch steps, the door swung open before we could even knock. There stood Momma Wilson, arms outstretched and a smile that could light up the whole neighborhood. Behind her was my mom, who gave us a more subdued but no less warm smile.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in!" Georgia exclaimed, pulling me into a tight hug. "And this must be Tucker!" She released me and turned her full attention on him, her eyes scanning him up and down with the keen appraisal of a Southern momma.
“Tucker, this is my momma, Eleanor Cole, and her best friend and my second momma, Georgia Wilson,” I said, quickly explaining that the Wilsons and my parents were best friends growing up, so they’d bought houses next door to each other and raised their brood of kids together. The Wilsons had the four boys—Everett, Adam, Jackson, and Travis—and they were all honorary brothers to the Cole sisters.
“Well, not Everett and Laney,” Momma chimed in. “They’re married and have a baby. But we planned that from the get-go, so they’re the only ones who don’t have that sibling love the rest of them do.”
“How did you plan for them to get married and have a baby?” Austin wondered aloud.
“Magic,” Momma Wilson replied with a wink.
Tucker, to his credit, stood his ground, offering a polite smile and extending his hand to each of the mommas. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Cole, Mrs. Wilson."
"Call me Georgia, honey," she said after shaking his hand, then surprised the heck out of him by pulling him in for a quick, unexpected hug.
He looked mildly alarmed but patted her back awkwardly, shooting me a look over her shoulder.
Momma chuckled softly at Tucker’s discomfort, stepping forward to give me a hug. "How’s everything, baby?"
"Good, Momma," I replied, my voice muffled against her shoulder. “And this is Tucker’s little brother, Austin.”
The mommas greeted him, and just like with Tucker, Georgia went for the hug. Austin, however, didn’t look quite as appalled. In fact, he looked… pleased. Like it was something he wasn’t used to, but definitely could get used to, if given the chance.
My momma gave Tucker a small smile. "We’re glad to have you for dinner, Tucker. It’s nice to meet one of Dakota’s... friends ."
There was a playful hint in her voice, and I could practically feel Tucker stiffen beside me.
Before he could respond, a blur of motion rushed toward us, and I looked down to see Phoebe bounding forward, her hair flying out behind her in a messy ponytail. "Dakota!" she squealed, throwing her arms around my waist.
"Hey, darlin’!" I hugged her back, my heart warming at the sight of her bright smile. "You been dancin’ up a storm, gettin’ ready for the Harvest Festival?"
She nodded vigorously. "Meemaw says I’m getting really good at my turns!"
"That’s not news. You’re always gettin’ better, baby girl," I said.
Phoebe’s gaze shifted to Tucker, and she blinked up at him with wide eyes. "Is this your boyfriend? He’s gigantic."
Tucker let out a strangled cough, clearly not expecting the question so soon. In fact, he looked so off-kilter I bet he couldn’t even come up with his usual pithy response about the height assessment. Poor thing.
I laughed, resting a hand on his arm. "Sure is. Don’t tell the rest of the town just yet, though. We don’t wanna cause a ruckus."
Phoebe’s eyes lit up with mischief, and I had no doubt she’d be telling everyone she could find the second we walked inside.
Mission accomplished.
Just then, Austin shifted on the porch behind us, looking a little nervous but holding his own. Phoebe, ever the social butterfly, immediately honed in on him. "Who’re you?"
Austin blinked, glancing from me to Tucker, who gave him an encouraging nod. "I’m Austin. Tucker’s brother."
Phoebe grinned, her energy bubbling over. "Cool. Do you like to draw?"
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and flitted back into the house.
Austin watched, wide-eyed, before looking up at Tucker uncertainly.
“I’d follow her,” he said with a shrug.
And so, Austin did.
Georgia turned to Tucker with a knowing smile. "Austin looks like he could use a good distraction. Travis said he should come to the boxin’ gym sometime while you’re workin’ on your case. Even said he’d pay him if he wanted to help out around the locker rooms and such."
Tucker’s expression tightened at that. His eyes flicked to Austin through the open doorway before he crossed his arms over his chest. "I’m not sure that’s a good idea."
I raised an eyebrow, surprised at his response. "Why not? Travis is good with kids, and Austin could use a break from bein’ cooped up at the B&B thanks to all the runnin’ around you’ve been doin’.”
Tucker didn’t answer immediately, his jaw working as he seemed to weigh his words. There was something there, something he wasn’t saying, and it nagged at me.
“Well, think about it then,” Georgia said, her expression telling me she’d noticed the same thing.
“Let’s not let all the bought air out,” Momma drawled, attempting to usher us inside.
“Y’all go on, we won’t be but a blink,” I said. Then I pulled Tucker aside, near the swing so we were out of earshot in case they lingered, and lowered my voice. "Why are you bein’ so weird about Austin goin’ to the gym with Travis? You wanted him to be somewhere safe and out of the way while we worked on the case, right?”
“There you go with all that ‘we’ stuff again,” he said dryly, crossing his arms over his chest, that typical gruff tone slipping back into place.
"I’m gonna ignore that," I replied, not willing to let him derail the conversation. "Don’t you think it’d be perfect for Austin to make a little cash while also stayin’ away from the case?"
His jaw tightened, and I could see something flicker in his eyes before he sighed, dropping his arms to his sides. "That’s not what I’m worried about," he muttered, his voice quieter this time, but just as tense.
I raised my eyebrows at him, waiting for more of an explanation. His silence only made me more curious.
He finally relented. "It’s just… I don’t want him to get attached."
"To the gym?"
He shook his head, looking at me like I was missing the point. "To any of it. Wildcard, you said you loved him."
"Well, I don’t love him, love him, if that’s what you’re worried about," I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“Very funny. You know what I mean.”.
I wrinkled my nose, genuinely confused. "I kinda don’t, actually."
His gaze softened a fraction, but the frustration was still there. "Everyone here is so… warm. When they’re not being incredibly inappropriate or lacking boundaries, anyway.”
I tried not to smile at that, but it was hard to ignore the truth in his words. Charlotte Oaks folks did have a habit of getting all up in your business.
"Austin didn’t have anything like that growing up," Tucker went on, his voice lower now, more reflective. "Neither did I. But we’re different. I see it for what it is—a cultural difference, but not something we’re a part of. I’m afraid he’ll think all of this strangers-are-part-of-the-family stuff is real."
The words hit me like a slap, and I reared back. "Wait, hang on just a minute. It is real."
His jaw clenched, and I could see the battle going on behind his eyes, but he didn’t back down. "Maybe for you guys," he said, his voice careful now, like he was picking each word with precision, "but not for us. We don’t belong here, no matter how much sweet tea we drink or how many locals know our business."
The words stung, more than I wanted to admit. I crossed my arms over my chest, mirroring his stance. "Got it. Well, fine. If you wanna think the way we treat people around here is fake, just add it to the fake relationship business you already don’t approve of, and don’t let it hit ya on the butt on the way out. ’Kay?"
His eyes flared, and the easy, laid-back warmth in them suddenly turned into a full-on blaze. The bonfire I usually loved to lose myself in was now a wildfire, threatening to burn everything in its path. "Interesting," he said, his voice low and sharp.