“They’re fucking in the kitchen?”
Sighing, I nod. “I put a stop to it. If the health inspector ever found out…”
“I’ll make sure it fucking stops,” he says. “I can’t say I’m surprised. And I’m a little impressed. But mostly, I’m annoyed. Scotty knows better.”
“They’re in love,” I say, putting the casserole I prepared this morning into the oven. “Whatever that means.”
He tilts his head. “You’ve never been in love?”
“This sounds a little like we’re getting into personal territory,” I say with a smirk.
“You can’t just drop something like that and not expect me topick it up and run with it.”
“Why? Have you?”
To my surprise, he nods. “Yeah, I have.”
The pang of jealousy surprises me. “What happened?”
“That’s not what we’re talking about,” he says. “You’ve really never been in love?”
I sigh and lean against the island. “No.”
“But you’ve dated?”
“I’ve had a few boyfriends. No, that’s not quite true. I’ve had two boyfriends.”
“And you didn’t love either of them?”
It’s hard to explain without going into detail about everything that comes with having a relationship with me. The baggage that needs unpacking. Baggage I don’t like to acknowledge I have.
“No. To be fair, I don’t think they really liked me. Not for long. But that’s okay. I’m better off by myself.”
“That’s what I tell myself, too,” Tucker says. “No one believes it.”
“I don’t really have that problem,” I admit.
We both know why. I’m a lot to handle in large doses. And I’ve accepted that. I like who I am. Some days are harder than others to be as happy as I am, but I make that choice. Every single day. And I’d rather be known as annoyingly happy than the alternative version of myself I despise.
“You are an interesting woman,” Tucker says. “Fascinating, almost.”
I laugh, wishing he’d crack a smile. Just one. “I guess that’s a way to put it.”
“We’re going to figure this out.”
If only I had as much faith as he does. I’m mostly banking on whoever’s stalking me getting bored. That’s how I assume this will all end. How everything inevitably does.
“Has anyone been spotted outside my house?”
He shakes his head. “I set up a camera, and I haven’t seen the SUV.”
I could bring up that might mean I’m safe at home. That I can leave. But I don’t really want to do that. This is as close to a relationship as I’ve gotten in five years. It’s kind of nice.
His phone beeps, and I turn to check the oven. His kitchen is large and was probably extremely impressive when it was built. But the appliances could use an upgrade. Or maybe some maintenance. The oven isn’t very reliable with the temperatures.
The first time I tried to bake biscuits, I burned them. I have never once burned biscuits in my life. If it’s set at 350, it’s actually closer to 400.
And one side of the oven cooks hotter than the other. So everything bakes unevenly if it doesn’t get turned midway through. I grab a potholder and spin the casserole dish around to make sure it cooks through. There’s nothing worse than biting into something cold that should definitely not be cold.
