Chapter 5

5

T ucker Young’s smile knocked Reagan for a loop. She was already tingling from shaking his hand.

What was happening to her?

She hadn’t looked at a man in the two years since Arch’s murder. Of course, she had buried herself in work. Still, she felt disloyal to her fiancé’s memory as things inside her began stirring. Feelings she had thought lost to her forever with Arch’s death.

“Miss Jean told me you were coming, but she said you would arrive sometime tomorrow.”

“I was able to wrap things up in New York sooner than I anticipated,” she said stiffly, not wanting to like this man.

“I know exactly which room she’s put you in. If you’d like, I can help you bring in your luggage so you can get settled.”

Thinking of the two heavy suitcases to be brought up the stairs, Reagan relented. “Yes, I’d appreciate that.” She returned to the car she’d rented at the Austin airport, she popped its trunk, removing her carryon, which was stuffed to the brim.

Tucker had followed her, and he lifted the first suitcase from the trunk. Laughing, he asked, “Is there only one dead body in here? Or did you manage to cram in two?”

He set the suitcase on the ground and pulled out the other one. Then with ease, he picked up both and looked at her expectantly. Without a word, she closed the trunk and moved up the stairs, opening the front door for him. Tucker sailed through it and headed toward the staircase. Reagan closed and locked the door behind her and followed him.

She reached the landing. Looking up, she saw he was almost to the top of the stairs, which gave her a chance to admire his backside for a moment. He was long and lean, the faded jeans molded to his legs and ass. While he didn’t appear to be bulging with muscles, he carried her heavy pieces of luggage with no problem at all. His hair was a sandy brown, but what had drawn her in were his hazel eyes and winning smile.

And now, his firm ass.

All in all, Tucker Young was quite the appealing package.

She saw him enter a bedroom and caught up to him, seeing him set her suitcases at the foot of the queen-sized bed. She rested her weekender beside her and said, “You handled those with ease.”

He shrugged. “Years of helping roadies haul equipment. It was a better workout than lifting at a gym.”

“You were a roadie? For concerts?”

“I grew up around them. My dad managed a few country music acts, and I was always on the road with him. I learned a lot about the music industry from the ground up. I can spout stats about arenas across the country. Tell you the best places to eat in cities far and wide. Name hits off the charts for any given year.”

“I don’t know much about music,” she admitted. “Country or otherwise.”

He looked puzzled. “Don’t you listen to music when you’re in the car or at home?”

“Not really. I focused on my studies growing up. I was driven to be the best kid in every class. Music was a distraction if I tried to listen to it while I wrote essays or tried to balance chemical equations. While other girls slapped rock star posters on their bedroom walls, I was reading Pulitzer Prize winning novels and tinkering with science fair projects.”

He chuckled. “I was homeschooled myself. If you could call it that. Dad left me on my own a lot, so I pursued whatever I was interested in. I guess you could say that I was first— and last —in my class of one.”

“That sounds terribly irresponsible,” she said and then stopped, mortified. “I’m sorry. My remark was judgmental. I didn’t mean to come off so high-handed.”

Tucker smiled lazily at her, and Regan’s heart fluttered inside her chest.

“No offense taken. We just come from very different worlds. Mine was the School of Hard Knocks. I taught myself whatever I wanted to know. Fortunately, I was a kid who wanted to learn about a lot of stuff and explored all kinds of topics. I would fixate on something. Geology. World War II battles. Science fiction. Then I would pursue that topic with a passion until I knew everything about it.”

Reagan had never met anyone as interesting as Tucker Young. “Do you still spend most of your time on the road?”

“If you’re asking if I still set up for concerts, the answer is no. I gave up that nomadic life when I went to college. Graduated from UT in Austin and went to work in a bank as a loan officer for several years.”

He paused, a shadow crossing his face. Instinct told her there was much more to his story, and Reagan found herself interested in discovering what it might be.

Shrugging, he said, “I’ve done a little traveling the last couple of years. I just arrived in Lost Creek yesterday and think I’m here to stay.”

“What’s your connection to Lost Creek?” she asked.

“Have you ever eaten at Blackwood BBQ or Lone Star Diner? My uncle owns and runs the barbeque joint, while my aunt does the same with the diner.”

“I ate at both, but that was years ago. I haven’t visited Lost Creek in almost twenty years. Something went down between my mom and Aunt Jean. I never knew what it was, but we stopped coming to visit.”

“Sounds like me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”

Reagan thought he would ask her more about what she had been doing, but he moved toward the door and said, “I’ll let you unpack. Your aunt has gone into town for her monthly book club. Since she wasn’t expecting you, she’s having dinner with a few friends after that. Miss Jean told me she would be home around seven or seven-thirty.”

“Thanks for letting me know, Tucker. I won’t text her because she’d drop everything and rush home. I know how much she enjoys book club.” She paused. “It was nice meeting you, Tucker.”

He stopped in the doorway. “We’re sharing the bathroom across the hall. If you’ll let me know times you need in there, I can work around your schedule.”

She felt herself flushing. She hadn’t shared a bathroom with a man since Arch would stay over. The intimacy of it threw her a little. Then again, she recalled Aunt Jean’s B&B didn’t have en suite rooms.

“Let me think about it, and I’ll get back to you. Actually, I’m the one who can be flexible and work around you. I don’t have any plans at the moment.”

“Miss Jean said your visit was open-ended. Are you on a leave of absence from your job in New York, or are you going to work remotely while you’re here?”

“I’m done with New York,” she said vehemently, seeing the surprise on his face by her tone. “Sorry. I quit my job there. Gave up my apartment. I’ve decided to move back permanently to Texas.”

He looked at her with interest. “So, is Lost Creek a stopover— or your final destination?”

Reagan sighed. “That’s what I’m here to figure out,” she revealed, which surprised her because she had only just met this man, and she usually didn’t open up to strangers. “I’m a financial analyst. If I stay in that field, I’ll probably investigate big cities. Dallas and Ft. Worth. San Antonio or Houston. To be honest, I don’t think large cities and finance appeal to me much anymore. I’m here to spend time with Aunt Jean and decide what I want to do with the rest of my life. You’d think at thirty I’d already know what I want.”

He shook his head. “No, people change careers all the time. Age doesn’t have a thing to do with it. I’m thirty-one and find myself at a crossroads, as well, Reagan.” He paused, his gaze pinning hers. “Maybe we can use one another as a sounding board and help discover what we’re meant to do.”

She had the insane urge to throw her arms about him and kiss him. That was the last thing she would act upon, though. Her heart was still bruised from losing Arch. She wasn’t interested in being with another man. It somehow seemed disloyal to Arch’s memory.

Still, she said, “I could use a friend. I’m in sore need of one of those.”

He cocked his head, studying her a moment. “I spent summers in Lost Creek while I was growing up. My cousin Ry and I were like brothers. He recently left the military and came home, marrying the gal who owns The Bake House.”

Reagan laughed. “I definitely recall The Bake House. When my folks brought me here to visit Aunt Jean, that was my favorite destination.”

“Since Miss Jean already has other plans tonight, you’re going to need to eat dinner. Why don’t you come along with me?” he offered. “Ry and Emerson have a group of friends they eat with every Wednesday night. If you’re going to be in town a while, they would be some good people to know.”

His offer was tempting. She had never really had friends, only acquaintances. Growing up, she was so focused on learning and being the best student in her class, she didn’t make friends. Everyone seemed jealous of her looks and intelligence, and a group of mean girls had bullied her for most of her years in school. She had ignored them, but the pressure they put on others kept anyone from attempting to befriend her.

In college, Reagan preferred studying on her own to study groups. She looked at other students as her competition and pretty much remained a loner. The only true friend she had ever made was Arch.

It was time to shake things up.

“If you don’t think it would be an imposition, I’d love to tag along and meet your cousin and his wife. And their friends.”

“It won’t be a problem,” Tucker assured her. “I know Harper and Ivy from years back. Their brother Todd was Ry’s best friend growing up. I met Ivy’s husband yesterday. Dax runs the coffeehouse on the square. He introduced me to Holden Scott while I was there. He’s a part of their friend group. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”

She looked at him blankly. “I… don’t have any idea who that is.”

“Your job must’ve kept you really busy. Holden’s a famous writer. He had a bestseller. Capitol Crimes . It was made into a big movie.”

She bit her lip. “Sorry. I don’t read much or go to movies.”

“I’m already seeing that I’ll be advising you to leave the world of finance, Reagan Bradley. It seems as if you haven’t had a life as a financial analyst. We’re going to find something good for you to do. Something rewarding. Challenging. And fun.”

The idea of fun seemed beyond her. Getting to know a few others her age, however, did appeal to her a great deal.

“What time is dinner tonight?” she asked.

“Ry and Emerson are picking me up at five. Dinner’s at five-thirty.”

Her jaw dropped, and Tucker started laughing.

“I guess you New Yorkers eat a little bit later. You’re back in Texas, now. A lot of these people have jobs that get them up early, and so they like to eat early. Will that be a problem?”

“No. I’ve only had a bagel and a cup of coffee before my flight this morning.”

“I’ll let Harper know to set a place for one extra then,” he told her. “Be downstairs on the porch at five. I’ll leave you to your unpacking,”

“See you then.”

After he left, Reagan closed the door, wanting a little privacy because of the thoughts swirling in her head.

As she opened the first suitcase, it struck her how much she had upended her life in just a handful of days. After her brief conversation with Tucker Young, she realized she hadn’t had much of a life at all. She was eager to pick up a book again and actually read it for pleasure. Watch a movie and talk it over with friends. Hike or practice yoga. Although she had thought she would be spending tonight bending Aunt Jean’s ear, she realized her absence— and Tucker’s invitation —was a blessing in disguise.

She was in the position now to reinvent herself. Reagan could be anyone she wanted to be.

And Lost Creek was hopefully the place for that to happen.