Page 33 of Steeped In Problems

“I just wish he’d leave me alone,” Kristy admitted, quieter now. “I wish he’d find a new hobby. Like pickleball, or collecting rare diseases.”

Tanner’s mouth twitched just barely. “I could make some calls. I know a guy who can get rare pathogens.”

That made her snort for real. “No murder-for-hire. Not yet.”

He nodded as if making a note.

She leaned against the wall, energy draining away. “I know I’m supposed to just ignore him. Or block his number. But it’s not that easy. He’s...like mold. You clean him out of the grout, and he shows up in the ceiling tiles.”

Tanner nodded again, and for a second, she wondered if he’d ever had someone like that—someone who kept finding their way back, no matter how much you tried to move on.

She didn’t want to cry in front of him. She didn’t want to seem weak. So she went for broke. “I need a boyfriend,” Kristy blurted.

The words hung in the air, suspended between them.

Tanner’s eyebrows shot up just a fraction. “A boyfriend?”

“Not a real one,” she added quickly. “A fake one. You know. So Mark will back off.”

She watched his face, waiting for him to laugh or say it was a stupid idea. Instead, he just blinked and then looked at the far wall like he was trying to solve a logic puzzle.

Kristy rushed on, “I know it’s dumb, but if Mark thinks I’ve moved on, maybe he’ll stop showing up. Stop trying to fix me, or whatever it is he’s doing. I’ll tell him I’m dating someone. If I’m convincing, he’ll lose interest and disappear.”

Tanner mulled it over, arms crossed tight. “You want me to be your fake boyfriend?”

She flushed, feeling the heat creep up her neck. “You’re the only one who’d be believable. I mean, you’re tall, you’re an ex-cop, you’re...you. He’d hate it. You’d be perfect.”

Tanner was silent for so long that Kristy started to backpedal. “You don’t have to. Seriously. I can just make up a guy. Say he’s a traveling magician or a hermit in the mountains?—”

“No,” Tanner interrupted. “You’re right; it has to be convincing if it’s going to work. If you want, I’ll do it.”

Now, she was the one who blinked. “You will?”

He nodded, simple as that. “If it gets him off your back, yeah. I’ll do it.”

Kristy stared at him, searching for sarcasm, but there was none—just a steady, unwavering offer.

She let out a long, shaky breath. “Thank you.”

He shrugged, but she saw the corners of his mouth twitch again like he was fighting back a smile. “Just let me know what the plan is. If you want me to punch him, I’ll need advance notice, a good lawyer, and bail money.”

She laughed, a real one this time. “I don’t think any of that will be necessary. You can start by holding my hand in public. That’ll kill him faster than violence.”

Tanner looked at her hands, then back at her. “Noted.”

“We can start tomorrow. Today, we have a car wash to finish.”

She felt lighter. Not fixed, but at least patched up for now. Maybe this was a bad idea, but at least it wasn’t the worst one she’d had when it came to dealing with Mark.

The day ended with Kristy finding herself in the back, flicking off the lights and flipping the chairs. She moved on autopilot, hands still sticky from lemonade, brain still humming from everything that had happened. The fundraiser had blown past their goal, and she knew the town would be buzzing about it for days. Still, her brain replayed the run-in with Mark on an endless loop.

She tried not to think about it. Instead, she started a new loop: the thing she’d asked Tanner to do and the fact that he’d agreed without so much as a question.

She was halfway through wiping down the pastry case when Tanner appeared with two mugs in hand. He set one down for her and took a seat at the far end of the bar with his own.

“Rhonda’s gone home,” he told her. “No one left but us and the creaks of the floor.”

Kristy smirked, grabbing the mug and taking a seat across from him. “I think we can handle them.”

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