I shift carefully, trying not to disturb Lacy's position tucked against me, and type back one-handed, my thumb moving slowly across the screen.
Thanks. But I've got something better than luck.
The three dots appear almost immediately, Darius already typing.
What's that?
I glance down at Lacy, at the peaceful expression on her face, the way her fingers curl loosely against my chest, and smile as I respond.
A librarian who believes in me. And really good jam.
His response comes fast, practically instantaneous.
You're an idiot.
The best kind,I reply, grinning wider now.
Lacy stirs against me, shifting slightly, her voice drowsy and warm. "Who're you texting?"
"Darius. Being supportive in his characteristically grumpy way," I say, setting the phone down on the arm of the couch.
She hums softly, a sound of contentment, and presses closer against my side, her warmth seeping through my shirt. "Tell him I said thanks."
"For what?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"Not scaring you off when you first got here," she murmurs, her breath tickling my collarbone.
I kiss the top of her head. "It would take more than Darius to scare me. Maybe a herd of angry librarians. With overdue notice cannons."
Her laugh vibrates against my ribs. "That's a terrifying image."
"You inspired it."
We fall quiet. Outside, the city murmurs. Inside, warmth wraps us. Tomorrow brings challenges. Reviews and councilwomen and grants hanging by threads.
But tonight, I hold Lacy Ellis. Small warrior of books and brews. The woman who saw past green skin and crushed awnings to something worth keeping.
Tomorrow, I'll prove I'm worth the fight.
Tonight, I'm just hers.
I wake to sunlight and the smell of coffee. Lacy's already up, moving quietly around the kitchen. I stretch, joints popping, and pad over in bare feet.
"Morning," I rumble, wrapping arms around her waist from behind.
She leans back into me. "Coffee's almost ready. You snore, by the way."
"Lies and slander."
"Like a chainsaw cutting through concrete." But she's smiling, tilting her head so I can kiss her neck.
My phone vibrates next to me. Multiple notifications lighting up the screen. I frown, reaching for it.
Darius sent a link with three exclamation points.
CHECK THIS. NOW.
I tap it. The page loads. A blog post, garish pink header screaming "CITY WATCH: Your Source for Local Tea!"
