The diner goes a little quieter.Because people recognize the cut on my back.Kings of Anarchy.Lucy glances down at my vest.Then back at my face.
I stop a few steps from the counter.“Morning.”
She blinks.“Hello Tucker.”Her voice is softer than it was last night.Still steady though.
“That seat taken?”I ask, nodding toward the stool at the counter.
She hesitates.Then shakes her head.“No.”
I sit.The old men beside me glance back and forth between us with open curiosity.Lucy grabs a coffee pot and walks over.
“You drink coffee?”
“Yeah.”She pours a cup and slides it toward me.Our fingers brush briefly.
Warm.
She clears her throat.“Thanks again.For last night.”
I shrug.“Anyone would’ve done it.”
One of the old men beside me snorts loudly.Lucy shoots him a look.He pretends to study his eggs.I hide a smile behind my coffee cup.
She leans slightly on the counter.“You didn’t have to.”
“Didn’t mind.”Her gaze flicks to my knuckles.They’re still a little swollen.I glance down.“He hit the table harder than I did my hand.He’s feeling it today.”
That makes her laugh softly.The sound settles something restless in my chest.
“You come in here often?”she asks.“I’ve only worked here a few months, haven’t seen you before.But maybe I just didn’t notice.”
“Sometimes.”
“Just breakfast?”
“Needed a part from across the street at Ironside.”
She nods like that explains everything.Silence settles for a moment.Not awkward.Just present.
Then she asks carefully, “So, uh, Mellow?How did that name come about?”
I sigh.“Don’t start.”
Her eyes sparkle slightly.“I was just curious.Is it because you’re the calm one?”
“Because I’m not.”I tell her the hard truth.
She studies me for a second.I wait for her to be afraid.I wait for her to run away.
Except she doesn’t.No, she smiles again.“I figured.”
And for the first time since last night, Lucy Coe doesn’t look scared of life at all.And that eases something inside me I can’t explain.
FIVE
LUCY
The thing about small towns is that silence is never really what it seems.It might look quiet—just a couple old men eating eggs at the counter and the low hum of the coffee machine—but underneath it there’s always curiosity humming like electricity.
