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hands.”
    I winced and could feel the flush spreading over my face. “Or we could skip it and just say we did.”
    Reb slowly shook his head.
    “Okay.” I bit my lip and stood despite his hands trying to pin me down. “Where’s this awesome bedroom, Tucker?”
    Anything to get me away from this awkward conversation.
    “Over here,” Tucker yelled from beyond the long hallway at the opposite end of the room.
    “I’ll be right there, bud,” I yelled in reply.
    “And I’ll be in the kitchen when you guys are done in there,” Reb said from somewhere behind me.
    Yippee. I couldn’t wait.

Chapter 4
    An hour later I’d discovered Tucker was right. His room was awesome. He had one of those desk/bunk-bed combos and a whole wall devoted to his favorite pastime: motorcycles.
    “Dad got me a Honda CRF50 dirt bike for Christmas. I can only ride it here on our property, but Dad built me a huge track out back with jumps and turns and stuff. I don’t race or nothing. Maybe later. And then when I’m old enough to get my license, my dad’ll get me my first hog.”
    And that’s how most of the past hour had gone. “My dad said” this or “My dad can” that. It didn’t take a social worker to see the clear hero worship in Tucker’s eyes. And I felt like I had enough experience, between my own past with my less-than-ideal childhood and my time as a librarian at a middle school. I spent all day with kids and clearly this one wasn’t abused or neglected, at least not by his dad.
    Then there was the fact that he hadn’t once said anything about his mom. Obviously he wasn’t missing her. I wondered if his mom missed him. Something told me the answer was sadly no.
    “I’m gonna go get something to drink before bed. Do you want anything, Miss Clark?”
    “How about you call me Emily, Tuck? Since we’re friends and all now.” I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I was trying to delay my impending appointment with Reb in the kitchen.
    “Okay, Emily.” Tucker grinned up at me, then raced out of the room. Apparently he didn’t share my desire to avoid the man down the hall. “Follow me!”
    It would be really silly of me to linger in Tucker’s bedroom. And yet it took me a second longer than I’d be willing to admit to leave. And it wasn’t because it was so awesome. Nope, it had to do with the big, scary biker waiting for me in the kitchen.
    I wasn’t scared of him, I reminded myself as I left Tucker’s bedroom and slowly walked down the hall. Okay, he had punched that wall. And the look on his face…It had been scary. I froze halfway to the kitchen. What was I doing? I was going to walk into that room like everything was fine? Like he hadn’t terrified me just an hour earlier? With no backup, no one around to even hear my scream?
    Muted voices drifted to me from the kitchen. Reb and Tucker were spending some quality father-son time. Like a normal family. Maybe I was going a little overboard. Reb wouldn’t turn into that scary guy within earshot of his kid, right? He seemed to be the type who cared what his child thought of him. The kind who cared, period.
    There was something officially wrong with me. I was romanticizing a biker—and forgetting his asshole move of taking my phone. I needed to keep that in my mind at all times or I’d never get through this. Clearly I needed to have my head examined.
    But still I continued down the hall toward the happy noises coming from the kitchen.
    Where I found Reb leaning against the cabinets on the far side of the room. He straightened up slightly when he saw me, his eyes flaring with something hot. It brought out the fight-or-flight instinct in me. Mostly the flight. I wanted to run so badly, but I’d gathered he was the type who enjoyed the chase. His lips curved like something about me amused him. I really hoped he couldn’t read my thoughts on my face.
    “Hey, Emily.” Tucker smiled at me from his perch on a bar stool next to the kitchen island. “Do you want