“Are you from there? You don’t have an accent.”
I got my name as a fucking dig at my mom. Growing up, she had a fascination with history, and a morbid fixation when it came to the multiple presidential assassinations in America, specifically what happened to JFK. She was a Catholic whose grandmother worshiped the fucking ground Kennedy walked on so it was no surprise that his death imprinted on her decades after he was gone.
And what did Jack do? When mom had her one and only kid, he insisted on naming me Dallas because that’s where the president was when he was blown away back in the 1960s.
“No. I’m local. From Harmony Heights, actually.” I pause, checking to see if that means anything. When it doesn’t, I add, “Where you’re from.”
Lucy doesn’t say anything to that. I can’t tell if it’s because she was already told that, or if she wasn’t paying attention to me because she was still stuck on my name.
Then she says, “So you’re Julian Wright, but I call you Dallas?,” and I know exactly which one that is.
“Dallas Collins,” I say firmly, because even if everything else I say might be a lie, I needthatto be the truth. “And you’re my sweet Lucy.”
MyDandelion.
She didn’t respond to that, either, when I first used the pet name that I gave her all those years ago. This time, I swallow it, holding onto that sliver of the past until I get a better idea of what our future is going to look like.
Since she didn’t scream and call for help, I take that to mean that she’s at least entertaining the idea that Iamher husband. Moving away from the curtain, I edge my way closer, holding my breath as I peer down at Lucy.
Without ripping my gaze away from her, I sink down in one of the seats at her side.
I’m staring at my battered Dandelion.
She’s staring at my left hand, her expression suddenly puzzled. “Um… where’s your ring, Dallas?”
My ring?
Fuck.
“I don’t wear it at work,” I lie. “It’s a safety hazard, and it used to piss you off when I’d forget to put it back on. But you knew that I would never cheat on you, so it was more playful on your end than anything.”
“Work?” Her brow furrows. “I know I should know what it is that you do…”
I’m a reluctant trust fund kid who roughed people up and killed for my old man because he thought I needed to be toughened up before I took over the Order.
That’s what I think. What pops out of my mouth is, “Mechanic. I work with a buddy of mine. Bas… Sebastien Reynolds.” I hesitate. “That ring a bell, baby? Bas?”
She shakes her head slowly, though I’m not sure if she heard the tiniest clanging at Bas’s name… or if it’s how I used a different pet name for her.
When we were together, I started out calling her ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ before she became my Dandelion. I can’t bring myself to use my old name for her—not yet, not when Lucy looks at me like a stranger—but ‘baby’ just rolled off of my tongue.
The lie did, too. I don’t know what would shock Bas more: that Reynolds Garage has a second employee, that he’s my boss, or that Lucy Wright doesn’t recognize his name.
Before Annaliese proved it wasn’t true, I would’ve thought anyone in Harmony Heights with a pulse and an appreciation for cock would know who Bas is. His new wife didn’t know his reputation, but Lucy… she did.
Hell, Bas made a play for her himself before I shut that shit down, making sure that my brothers—Adrian, Connor, Sebastien, and Desmond—were aware that she wasmine. Adrian has only wanted Loni for as long as I can remember. Connor has been obsessed with Haven since high school. Desmond… I never thought he’d go after a woman that one of us had his eye on, and then he tried to marry Loni and got three bullets to the chest for his betrayal. As for Bas, he was the biggest manwhore in Harmony Heights until a one-night-stand with Annaliese changed him for good, but even he backed off when he knew one of his bros was down bad.
“I wish it did,” she says, and there’s no missing the wistfulness in her tone—or the frustration. “I wish I rememberedanything.”
I don’t trust myself to reach out and console her. For now, I keep my hands fisted in my lap, though I can’t keep myself from leaning toward her. “It’s okay, Luce. I talked to that advocate. I’ll find one of your docs next. We’ll get you better so you can come home with me.”
Another puzzled look. “Home? But I thought… they told me we were…”
“Estranged?”
“Yes.”
Of course.
