For Lucy

My head shook several times. “That’s not a good idea. How about we meet at a bar?”

“Why? Do your parents assume it’s serious if you bring a girl home?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

Removing my baseball hat, I scratched the back of my head. She made me nervous … and itchy. “Then nothing. Fine. Whatever. You can follow me home and chat it up with my parents if that’s what you want.”

“Perfect. Thanks for the invite. And I promise I won’t tell them that you tried to steal me from another man.”

I unlocked my truck and opened the door. “They already know.”

“They do? So … you’ve told them about me? Which means you like me.”

When I turned back toward her, she greeted me with a crooked flirty grin. My focus went straight to her mouth, a mouth that tasted like peppermint Tic Tacs. “You’re okay, I suppose. And you came up in conversation when I said I’d already eaten that night we went to the cafe. It was just a brief mention. No big deal.”

I changed my mind. Once I knew she was fully on board with Emmett Lives at Home, playing hard to get felt like a game that I liked after all.

“No big deal, huh?” She did that doglike head tilt again. “So that’s how it’s going to be?”

“No. That’s just how it is.”

Something in her eyes shifted. Hell … something in her everything shifted from the moment I walked up and saw her sitting on my tailgate. I got this “all in” vibe that felt exhilarating.

She liked the chase.

She liked the game.

But most importantly, she liked me.

And while we had only been around each other twice before she showed up at my work, I’d thought about her pretty much nonstop for those two weeks, which felt like being with her every day for two weeks. That was the shift in her eyes—that silent admission that she, too, had been thinking about me nonstop for two weeks.

Tatum held her response, biting her lips together. I hopped into my truck and sped off toward home. Ten minutes later, she pulled off the road and followed me down our long dirt lane just outside of city limits where a few farmers still had land. We didn’t farm, but my dad liked to hunt. And his business required some extra space and a building separate from the house.

My time had come—sink or swim. We were about to find out just how much Tatum liked me. I thought of Hal and that moment when a girl discovered the family business involved working with the dead.

“Are there animals in the barn?” Tatum asked as we emerged from our vehicles. She brushed her hair away from her face as the wind tangled it.

“Sort of. And it’s not really a barn.” I gave her a tight grin and wide eyes as I gestured for her to follow me into the house. The truth sounded better coming from my dad. He had a spiel that made it sound a little less crazy.

“If your parents ever decide to sell this property, they should list it with me.”

Just before opening the front door, I glanced back at her. “Duly noted.”

Tatum rolled her eyes at my monotone response.

After removing my boots, I headed toward the living room. “Hey, Mom,” I said as she glanced up from the sofa with a bowl of apples and peelings on her lap. “This is Tatum. Tatum, this is my mom, Rebecca.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Riley.” Tatum smiled. “You making a pie?”

“Nice to meet you too. And quite the surprise.” My mom gave me a sly grin for a second. “And yes, I’m making apple pies for Charlie’s bake sale fundraiser for basketball. Charlie is my youngest, in case Emmett failed to mention he has a younger brother. He had a hard time not being the baby anymore, and he still hasn’t gotten over it.”

“I forgot to mention my mom is delusional.”

Tatum giggled, her animated gaze ping-ponging between my mom and me.

“Where is the twerp?” I shrugged off my Carhartt jacket, tossing it onto the banister to the basement before peeling off my tee shirt.

Tatum’s eyes flared, but I pretended not to notice. Mom ignored me because it wasn’t unusual for me to be half naked before making my way to the basement to shower.

When Tatum’s gaze remained affixed to my chest, I pointed to my abs. “See. They’re real. Not painted-on.”

Her cheeks turned red as she averted her gaze to the windows as if she were watching a bird instead of counting my abs.

“Yes. My boy became a man overnight. The growth spurts of all growth spurts. His older brother still looks like a twelve-year-old compared to Emmett. And when Emmett grows out his full beard, it’s much thicker than his dad’s. I can’t for the life of me figure out what I ate differently during my pregnancy with Emmett.” Mom chuckles.