Fools (Licking Thicket 3)

“Well.” Dunn swallowed. Cleared his throat. “I invited you here to talk about… love.”

I dropped my roll.

“Wow. Is it warm in here?” Dunn tugged at his collar. “Because I’m really feeling warm. Am I feverish? Or am I having an allergic reaction to discussing emotions? One time Mal said that Brooks used to be allergic to discussing emotions, but I thought he was being sarcastic. Now I’m thinking it’s real and maybe… genetic?”

“You’re not having an allergic reaction,” I whispered. “What about love?”

“Well, it’s like this, Tuck… You’ve given me so much over the years. You’ve been the best friend I could ever have—going ice fishing in the dead of winter when I know you’d rather have been home drinking cocoa, helping my family navigate all the medical stuff when my dad had his heart issues last year, stepping up as a legal guardian to Bernadette, even though you said you weren’t sure you wanted kids…”

“Dunn,” I said, squeezing my roll very tightly as I stabbed it with butter, while also trying to be patient like I’d promised. “I still don’t have kids. Bernadette is your pet pig—”

“Pfft. Pet. I’m a farmer, Tucker. Farmers don’t have pets, we have livestock.” He sipped his water. “Bernie just so happens to be livestock with special needs.”

Needs like extensive ear scritches. And a nightly bedtime story. And a legal guardian to manage her inheritance should Dunn pass away. But I wasn’t here to confront Dunn over his porcine pipe dreams.

“Keep going,” I suggested patiently and supportively.

Dunn’s eyes flicked to the butter knife clenched in my fist.

“Right. So, I want you to know that I see all you’ve done for me, all the support you’ve given me. The love you’ve given me. And I want to do the same for you. I want—”

Holy shit.

Holy shit it was happening.

I took a deep breath. I set down my knife and roll. I attempted to memorize the moment as best I could—the slight smoke tang from the restaurant’s wood-burning fireplace, the way the candlelight danced in Dunn’s eyes as he smiled at me with honest affection.

Breathe, Tucker, breathe…

“I want to find you a boyfriend.”

I blinked, confident I’d heard him wrong. I replayed the words in my head and blinked some more. I waited for him to apologize, to say he misspoke, but instead, he tilted his head like a puppy, confused by my confusion.

“Is this… are you blinking at me in code? Shit, Tuck, you know I’m not great with puzzles. Um. Are you spelling out ‘Thank you’?”

I closed my eyes very tightly and breathed through my nose. We’d learned in medical school about this phenomenon called phantom pain, the pain an amputee feels in a missing limb. I wondered if the pain I was feeling at that moment, like my heart was simultaneously breaking and missing from my chest entirely, was anything close.

“Tuck?” Dunn continued quickly. “I don’t just mean a boyfriend, okay?” He snorted at the very idea. “I mean the boyfriend. The one. The… the guy you’re meant to be with. ’Cause nobody knows you better than me, right? Nobody, not even you yourself! So I figured, who better to make sure you get exactly the guy you deserve than the guy who loves you best?”

I waited for my heart to squeeze excitedly, but it didn’t. Maybe I’d finally been cured.

Yay?

The waitress came with our drinks, and I belted Dunn’s whiskey back before he could reach for it, only shuddering slightly at the burn.

“Another, sir?”

“Better make it two,” I said with a polite smile.

When she left, I turned that same smile on Dunn. “So you planned this whole evening, this reservation and everything, just to tell me that you wanted to find me a boyfriend?”

Dunn grinned broadly. “Yep. Cool, right? ’Cause you’re important to me, and I know it’s not gonna be easy to convince you to let me set you up.” He laid his hand over mine on the tabletop, casually affectionate as ever. “I know you hate Ms. Vienna interfering. But it wouldn’t be like that with you and me, ’cause I know you. Like I said.”

I nodded slowly and drew my hand away. “And all that nonsense back in my office, when Vienna was giving you the third degree and you were going on about changing your life, and redefining yourself, and whatnot?”

“Oh, that.” Dunn waved a hand negligently. “Jenn’s getting antsy again. You know how she can be. ‘When are we gonna get serious, Dunn? You gotta fish or cut bait.’” His face twisted up, and I knew it was because he hated that expression with a passion. “She went out on a couple dates with Kevin Barker—Monster from the Devoted Dogs?—and it didn’t work out, so now she’s telling her friends it was just so I’d get jealous and wanna commit, when anyone who knows me knows I’ve never been jealous over a woman a day in my life, and the only person I’m committed to is you.” He grinned. “Buuuut my mom caught wind of it, so I had to sit through one of those ‘Dunn Johnson, I love you, but you drive me crazy’ speeches of hers—”