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Maybe that wouldn’t be so easy the second time around.

This was why it was best for Dunn to be sure about him and me.

Like, sure sure.

Surer than a person could be after a week of nookie and a half dozen unenlightening conversations.

“Hey,” Dunn said gruffly. His boot kicked my loafer gently under the table. “Y’okay? You look kinda peaky all of a sudden.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m great,” I said faintly. “I maybe need a coffee.” Or maybe some of that Jameson that Dunn ordered every once in a while.

Dunn frowned and moved so his thigh was pressed tightly against mine. “I’ll go get you one.”

“Nonsense.” Red pushed up from the table. “I’ll go. My treat.”

I breathed in through my nose and gave Dunn what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

The look in his eyes, which said he wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss me or shake me, indicated it hadn’t worked.

“Hey, grab one for me and Mal too, please?” Brooks asked.

Red nodded. “You got it.”

“See how I take care of you, baby?” Brooks wiggled his eyebrows at Mal.

“Oh, I see.” Mal snorted but leaned into Brooks’s side just the same. “I got my wreath this morning,” he volunteered to the table. “Though, to be fair, it wasn’t so much a wreath as a hook.”

“A hook?” Cindy Ann shook her head, bewildered. “But I didn’t think you liked fishing, Malachi.”

“Oh, I don’t particularly.” Mal grinned wickedly. “This was to symbolize that he’d hooked me.” He held up his left hand and wiggled his ring finger.

“That is not true!” Brooks poked Mal’s ribs and made him laugh. “I told you, it was to symbolize that you had hooked me. And you know very well I was limited by what I was capable of constructing, unless you wanted me to buy you one from the flower shop!” Brooks sounded incredibly put out. “Not all of us are artists.”

Mal laughed out loud again, and Brooks pulled him closer.

“I’ll love you forever, Malachi Forrester, but if you’re marrying me for my weaving skills, prepare yourself for disappointment until death do us part.”

Mal’s laughter settled into a grin. “Fortunately, you have other gifts, baby.”

Beside me, Dunn shuddered. “I do not want to hear about Brooks having gifts. Not with our mama at the table.”

Cindy Ann shook her head at Dunn with fond exasperation. “So what about you, Mal? What sort of wreath did you construct for Brooks?”

“Oh. Um.” Mal licked his lips. “Well. Funny thing about that—”

“He forgot!” Brooks crowed.

“No! Pfft. No. I told you it was special and it was coming. Later.” He waved a hand vaguely. “When the muse visits.”

Cindy Ann pressed her lips together. Brooks pulled Mal closer to press a kiss to his head.

“I’ll love you forever, Brooks Johnson, but if you’re marrying me for my ability to remember dates, you’re doomed to disappointment for the rest of your life.”

Brooks grinned down at Mal. “Can’t wait,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” Mal said just as softly. “Me neither.”

“Ah, my boys.” Cindy Ann sniffled, watching them.

Meanwhile, I pressed a hand to my stomach because I wanted that so badly, and it seemed so out of reach.

“Dunn, honey.” Cindy Ann tilted her head. “What about you? What’s your wreath like?”

“Oh, well actually, Tuck is…”

“Thinking of going fishing tomorrow!” I blurted, kicking Dunn under the table. “Y’all are welcome to come.”

Red came back and set down my coffee. “That’d be nice! Been a while since I went fishing.”

Cindy Ann’s lips pursed. “That’s not really news, is it?”

I laughed, uncomfortable. “Guess not, now that I think on it.”

Dunn sat forward and braced his elbows on the table. “Actually, what I was gonna say was…”

“You’re dying for coffee too?” I cut in loudly. I pushed my paper cup in his direction. “That’s alright! Have some of mine, friend!”

Dunn stared at me like I’d lost my mind.

I was pretty sure he was right.

Unfortunately, everyone else was staring at me too.

“Tucker, honey,” Cindy Ann began worriedly. “Are you okay? I’d offer to get you a doctor, but…”

“Ha! Yes! Good one. No, I’m fine. Just… fine.” I waved slightly. “I’ll maybe… have some coffee myself.”

“You do that.” She leaned over to pat my hand.

“What I’m trying to say,” Dunn insisted, “is that—”

I stood up from the table and pushed my chair back with a squeal. “Actually, I changed my mind. I’m not okay. I need air. Outside air. Dunn, could you, um… help me find some?”

Dunn’s jaw worked and his nostrils flared. “Yeah, Tuck. I’ll find it for ya.”

He stalked outside right behind me.

When we reached the sidewalk, I whirled around to face him. “What does slow mean to you, Dunn? Dear God.”

“It doesn’t mean standing still, that’s for sure!” Dunn looked as angry as I’d ever seen him. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem is, it’s only been a week!”

“I think you mean it’s already been an entire week,” Dunn shot back. “And especially after last night—and don’t you dare say it was just sex, Tuck, don’t you lie—”

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