The next morning, Melina woke up to the sound of soft rustling. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the golden sunlight pouring through the windows. Tucker was already out of bed, standing by his suitcase with his back to her, rummaging through something.

She propped herself up on one elbow, watching him for a moment. His shoulders were tense, and he kept glancing over his shoulder like he didn't want to get caught. Suspicious.

"Morning," she murmured, stretching.

Tucker flinched—actually flinched—before quickly turning around with an easy smile, like he hadn't just been acting weird. "Hey, you're up."

Melina narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." He closed his suitcase way too fast.

She raised an eyebrow. "Nothing?"

"Yup. Just, uh—just looking for a shirt."

Melina glanced at the pile of shirts literally right next to him. "Uh-huh. Totally believable."

Tucker scratched the back of his neck, clearly struggling to act normal. "You hungry? I can make breakfast."

Melina smirked. "Deflecting, huh?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said quickly, already heading toward the kitchen. "Pancakes sound good?"

She stared after him, biting back a grin. He's up to something.

—

Throughout the day, Tucker kept acting off.

It wasn't anything huge—just little things. Like how he kept checking his phone more than usual. Or how he'd disappear outside to take calls, then come back acting like nothing happened. Or how he was just a little too eager to agree with whatever plans she suggested.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, Melina was officially suspicious.

They were lounging on the back porch, the sun warm against their skin, the lake stretching out in front of them. Tucker was sitting on the wooden railing, fiddling with a loose thread on his swim trunks.

Melina, stretched out on a lounge chair, peeked at him over the rim of her sunglasses. "Alright," she said finally. "Spill."

Tucker looked up, blinking. "Spill what?"

"Whatever it is you're being weird about."

"I'm not being weird."

"You so are." She sat up, crossing her legs. "You've been acting sketchy all day. Sneaking around, checking your phone—"

Tucker let out a dramatic gasp. "Sneaking around?"

Melina pointed at him. "Deflecting again!"

Tucker bit his lip like he was trying not to laugh. "Babe. I promise you, I'm not being sketchy."

Melina narrowed her eyes. "You're a terrible liar."

Tucker grinned, hopping down from the railing and walking over. He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "I just want to make this trip perfect for you," he murmured.

Melina's expression softened. "It already is."

His eyes flickered with something unreadable for a second, like he was holding onto something big, but then he just smiled, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Good."

Melina let it slide for now.

But something was definitely up.





---





The next morning, Melina woke up to the smell of coffee and something sweet. She rolled over, her fingers brushing the empty space beside her in bed. Tucker was already up. Again.

This was becoming a pattern.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes before swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Outside the open window, she could hear birds chirping and the soft rustling of trees in the breeze. It was the kind of morning that made everything feel easy. Simple. Perfect.

A little too perfect.

Melina grabbed one of Tucker's hoodies from the chair and pulled it on before padding barefoot into the kitchen.

Tucker was at the stove, wearing nothing but his swim trunks, his back turned to her as he flipped pancakes. His tattoos stretched across his skin as he moved, the morning light catching on the ink.

Melina leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms. "You're up early."

Tucker glanced over his shoulder with a lopsided grin. "Had to make sure you woke up to a perfect morning."

There it was again. That word.

Perfect.

She narrowed her eyes, watching as he plated the pancakes with an unnecessary level of care, arranging fresh berries on top like he was trying to impress her.

"You're being suspicious again," she said.

Tucker laughed, sliding the plate in front of her. "I'm being romantic."

"Uh-huh." She took a bite, eyeing him. "This isn't about your birthday, is it?"

His hand twitched slightly as he reached for his coffee. "Nope."

Melina raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

Tucker took a very long sip of coffee. "Yup."

Melina wasn't buying it. But she let it slide—mostly because the pancakes were really good.

—

The rest of the day passed in the same strange rhythm.

Tucker was present—laughing with her, pulling her into the lake with zero warning, sneaking kisses every chance he got—but there was an undercurrent of something else.

At one point, when he thought she wasn't looking, he had pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted someone. His jaw was tight, his brows furrowed, like whatever he was planning mattered.

Melina was now convinced something big was coming.

That night, as they sat curled up on the couch watching a movie, Tucker's arms wrapped around her, she decided to test him.

"You know," she mused, tracing absentminded circles on his forearm, "I was thinking about our last trip here."

Tucker hummed. "Yeah?"

She smirked, tilting her head up to look at him. "Remember how we joked about coming back as Tom and Sally?"

His grip on her waist tightened slightly. "Of course."

Melina studied his face. "We could just do it. Run away. Change our names. Be a mystery couple that no one can track."

Tucker chuckled, but there was something a little nervous in it. "You planning something, Miss Not-Suspicious-At-All?"

Melina grinned. "I don't know, you tell me."

Tucker leaned in, kissing her softly. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

Oh, he was so up to something. And now, she was determined to figure it out.