“Well, the two of them sound like a package deal,” he says. “So… the lumberjack guy—Ethan—are you making any moves, or just standing there like a neon sign screaming ‘I have no idea what I’m doing’?”
I snort. “Move? Him? He’s dry. Doesn’t like me. Thinks I’m stupid and annoying, probably. Definitely thinks I’m chaotic beyond repair. He’s… scary.”
“You?” Banks teases, “Scary? Come on, Lu Vale. You could charm a bear into giving you honey.”
I roll my eyes, muttering, “This is exactly why I don’t make domestic phone calls. You’re terrible advice.”
“Terrible advice?” he shoots back. “I’m a genius. You just need to switch on the Lu Vale charm. You know the one. The ridiculous, too-loud, can’t-help-being-extra charm. Works every time.”
“I think he finds me unbearable,” I grumble, tugging at my trucker cap like it’s a shield.
“Then test it,” he says. “Talk to him. Play your cards. Cause some chaos. Fluster him a little. Scare him a little. Then watch him squirm. You’re natural at that part.”
I groan, flopping back into the couch. “I knew coming to a quiet town was a mistake. Absolute mistake.”
“Relax,” Banks says, laughing. “You’ll figure it out. And hey, if the worst happens, just call me. I’ll help you plan the great chaotic escape. But honestly, stay there, you need to be there, sweetheart.”
I laugh despite myself. “Fine. But if I get eaten by polite neighbors or British stoicism, I’m blaming you.”
“Deal,” he says. “Just remember, Lu Vale—chaos is your weapon. Use it wisely.”
I hang up, shaking my head, half-amused, half-exasperated. Small-town life? Yeah. Not my forte. But maybe, just maybe, I can make it… entertaining.
I lean back against the couch, letting the craziness of the day finally settle like dust in a sunbeam, when something catches my eye.
Through the front window, a car slows near the house, crawling past like it’s studying every detail. My stomach flips, and my fingers curl into the armrest.
It’s probably nothing. Probably just a neighbor, or someone lost. But something about it puts me on edge, sets my nerves humming in that familiar, itchy way. I can’t look away.
I shift and wait, blinking against the sunlight seeping into the room, telling myself I’m being dramatic. Maybe I am. Perhaps I’m not. Either way… it bothers me.
Chapter 6
Ethan
Luckydisruptsmymorningbefore I even see her.
I wake at six, same as every day. Coffee. Quick shower. Lily’s lunch is packed even though she gets one from the school cafeteria—muscle memory I haven’t bothered to rewire. Then, a perimeter check around the yard. Habit, not paranoia.
One might call it 'vibing ex-military energy at civilians.'
The house is quiet. Predictable. Ordered.
Until it isn’t.
A dull thud carries across the yard. Then another. Then a muffled, drawn-out curse that is absolutely, unmistakably female and absolutely, unmistakably her.
Lucky.
Of course, it’s her.
I try to ignore it. I genuinely do. I go into the garage office, open my laptop, and read the same line three times without absorbing a word.
The strategic proposal for—
Thud.
Caution should be exercisedwhen—
