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“You first,” she says.

“Tucker is my buddy and told me I could stay here while I helped on the ranch.”

She goes completely still. The color drains from her face. “Oh...no.”

My stomach sinks. “What?”

“I’m Tucker’s sister.”

It takes exactly one second to register. Tucker’s sister. The producer. The one he talks about all the time. The sister who never comes home and the one he worries works too much. It’s all finally adding up.

I stare. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

She winces.

Oh, no. That’s not the reaction that I meant to have.

I scrub both hands over my face. “That’s not what I mean. I’m sorry. It’s just...I’ve known Tucker for years. He’s my best friend.”

“I know. I’ve heard about you. I just didn’t know it was you, either.”

I look up. “So, you know he’s not going to like this.”

A tiny smile appears on her face. “Not one bit.”

“Did you know who I was in Vegas?” I ask, confused.

She shakes her head.

“Then how did you know my name?”

“I peeked at your I.D. while you were sleeping just now on the couch.”

Silence. “You what?”

She shrugs without even looking embarrassed. “I needed to know whether Goldilocks, who was in my cabin asleep on my couch, was a serial killer or not.”

I cross my arms and grin at her. “We really need you to stop assuming every man you come across is a serial killer.”

“Hey, you never know,” she says, shrugging.

“Are you satisfied that I am not a serial killer?” I return.

“You weren’t a serial killer,” she says with a smirk. And for a moment, I remember kissing that mouth.

“I didn’t have concerns that I was.” I smirk back.

She starts counting on her fingers. “But you are an eight-time World Finals qualifier.”

I blink and make a face as she continues ticking them off on her fingers.

“Three-time world champion.”

I groan. “Okay, you can stop now.”

“Retiring at the age of thirty,” she continues.

Ouch. How does she know all of this?