Lordy. She was not prepared for the way he ma’amed her. Sure, they were playacting, but her ovaries didn’t know that. They were popping out eggs now like a slot machine paying out a jackpot.

“The chief of police is supposed to be a bit of a hardass,” she said, hoping the mention of her brother would freeze those suckers in their tracks.

Tucker laughed this time. It was rich and warm and vibrated between them on the kind of frequency that was too low to be measured but could be felt all over. Unfortunately, there was no freezing going on anywhere. There was only heat.

So. Much. Heat.

“He runs a tight ship. Is a stickler for the rules and doesn’t suffer fools gladly. He has an overdeveloped sense of responsibility for every single person in his jurisdiction because his mom was sick a lot when he was a kid and his dad traveled away frequently. If he lived a few hundred years ago, he’d have a white charger.”

Tucker couldn’t have described her brother any better if he tried. Arlo had told her all about his mom’s illness and his father’s—her father’s—occupational absenteeism.

“Do you have any siblings?” she asked politely, continuing the charade.

“Only child.”

“And your parents?”

“My dad died ten years ago. My mother moved to North Carolina to be closer to her twin sister about a year after that.”

“Your mom’s a twin?” Arlo had told her about Tucker’s mom leaving Credence to be with her sister, but she didn’t know they were twins.

“Yep. Twins run in my mom’s family for generations and generations. Identical ones, too. Family get-togethers are a real trip.”

Della found it hard to wrap her head around twins. She remembered being pregnant with one baby and how nervous she’d been. Two babies would have daunted the hell out of her.

The waitress brought Della’s cocktail and set it down. “Thank you.” Picking it up, she took a fortifying sip of the icy pink daiquiri. She sighed and shut her eyes as the sweetness spread across her tongue. “Not as good as yours,” she said, “but I’d expect nothing less from the best bartender in all of Colorado.”

Her eyes fluttered open to find his gaze fixed hot and heavy on her mouth. So heavy it could have been a caress. And just like that, the atmosphere changed. Della’s pulse beat thick and slow through her head, through her breasts, through her thighs. The air in her lungs grew hot, and they felt too big for her chest.

He dragged his eyes away, but the charge between them remained. If Tucker wanted her to believe he didn’t think of her like that, then he really needed to stop looking at her mouth like that.