Grace walked along the sidewalk with her tote slung over one shoulder, hair pulled back in that way he loved. The late afternoon light caught on her, softening the edges of everything else until she stood out like a memory layered over the present.
Luke’s heart beat faster.
He kept the cruiser moving. Same speed. Same posture. Both hands on the wheel. Anything else would be noticeable.
But his eyes?—
His eyes betrayed him.
He drank her in like he was starving.
The movement of her when she walked. The familiar curve of her waist beneath the cardigan she wore. The line of her legs. A line he’d traced with his hands more times than he cared to admit.
God.
He knew every inch of her. He knew the warmth of her skin. He could still feel the way she melted against him when he pulled her close.
He slowed at the stop sign.
Grace didn’t turn.
She kept walking, sneakers scuffing lightly against the pavement, attention fixed ahead. Kids called out to her from across the street—“Bye, Miss Hart!”—and she waved back easily, smiling wide and bright.
She’d smiled at him like that once.
Luke swallowed.
He’d spent months avoiding moments like this whenever they crossed paths in town. Ducking his head. Breaking eye contact first. Making sure she understand the rules of what they had.
The cruiser rolled forward.
She didn’t look. Not a flicker. Not even the barest awareness that he was there.
It was like he’d been erased.
Something twisted hard in his chest.
He passed her—slowly, inevitably—and continued on his route.
Jesus Christ.
This wasn’t supposed to bother him.
In the rearview mirror, she grew smaller. Then she turned the corner onto her street and vanished from sight.
Luke exhaled slowly, realizing too late he’d been holding his breath.
The road stretched ahead, familiar and empty.
The image wouldn’t leave him alone: her turning onto Maple, heading toward a house with a boarded window and a lock that had already failed once.
She was walking back to something broken. Something exposed.
And that—that—was something he could do something about.
This wasn’t personal.
It was responsibility. Community-minded. The sort of thing a Bennett did without being asked.
