Page 20 of Take the Bait

“Tucker,” Hanna whispered, eyes darting around nervously, though amusement sparkled behind them. “That’s serial killer behavior.”

“Well, that’s exactly what my parents thought when they found my little collection.”

Her hand clapped over her mouth. She gasped. “No.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“No.”

“When I got home from school, there was a police officer and a social worker waiting for me.”

Hanna covered her eyes with her hands. “Oh my god, I’m getting so much second-hand embarrassment. What did you do?”

“Well, I was confused.” Tucker ran a hand through his hair. “But the officer had laid all my evidence out on the dining room table and asked me to explain myself.”

“Tucker.”

He loved the way she said his name, but couldn’t help wishing it were under different circumstances. “My dad looked so serious, and—I kid you not—my mom was crying.”

“Oh god. It keeps getting worse.”

“It was mortifying,” he said grimly, his embarrassment coursing through his body as if this had only happened last week rather than 15 years ago. “I spent, like, 30 minutes explaining myself. The cop thought it washilarious.”

He let out a chuckle recalling the way the officer struggled to keep in his laughter as Tucker described his sleuthing efforts. Small town life meant he never quite lived it down, given the officer who was at his house that day was the same one who pulled him over for driving 45 miles per hour in a 25 mile-per-hour zone when he was 16—and the one who broke up the drunken beachfront bonfire he and Shawn organized the night of their graduation.

To this day, he was a regular at his restaurant—and still cheekily called him Sherlock.

Running a hand through his hair, he added, “My mom made me write an apology letter to our neighbor.”

“What did it say?” Hanna asked, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “‘Sorry I stole your welcome mat, it was in the name of justice?’”

Tucker grinned. “Something like that. She also thought it was hilarious, and like everyone else in my small hometown, she refers to me as Sherlock to this day.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Hanna asked, her eyes crinkling with barely-held-back laughter.

“That’s what I said!”

7

Hanna’s buzz made her feel giggly and happy and just the right amount of flirty.

She missed this—laughing. Inside jokes. Being stupid. And loud. And a little tipsy.

She had acquaintances from high school and college—people she loosely kept in touch with, mostly via social media. But in terms of folks she spoke to regularly?

It was only Bella and Madi.

And since she hadn’t made any friends in Orange Beach yet, this was the most fun she’d had in… way too fucking long.

It’d been even longer since she’d been on a decent date.

How depressing was it that something so average felt so revolutionary for her?

A pang of sadness coursed through her. She had all but packed up her apartment and given notice at her job. She had her eye on a place in her hometown, equidistant from her sister’s house and her parents’.

“So what about you?” Tucker asked, interrupting Hanna’s thoughts.

“What about me?” She asked, immediately self-conscious.

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