Page 46 of How I Love You

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 madesense. 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.

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