Her eyes flash.“How exactly does it sound?”
“Like I’m claiming something.”
“And are you?”
“No.”
The answer comes easy because it’s true.At least, true enough for her world.
“I’m saying I saw a problem and I put a dipshit on you.”
She blinks.“A what?”
“A dipshit.”
Her stare turns incredulous.“That is not a real explanation.Nor is that very kind of you to say about someone you call one of your own.”
I almost smile.“It’s the accurate one.”
“Tucker.”
“Prospect,” I explain.“I put a prospect on you.We call them dipshits until they have a road name.”
Her eyes widen.“You what?”
I nod toward the door.“That’s him.”
She sits back slightly, shocked in a way I probably deserve.“Was he following me?”
“A little bit.Mostly, his job is watching the house.”
Her mouth falls open.“You were stalking me?”
“Not exactly, but yes, sort of.”Her expression says that is exactly what this sounds like.I hold up a hand.“Listen to me before you decide whether to throw me out.”
She crosses her arms tighter over herself.“You have ten seconds.”
“Prospect’s job is to do what he’s told and keep his mouth shut while doing it.I told him to keep an eye on your place tonight.From the road.Not in your yard, not at your windows, not creeping around your damn bushes.Just watch.”
Lucy stares at me.
“Why?”
“Because your ex causes you to run and Roger showed his true colors at the diner.Because men like that don’t usually calm down by nighttime.Because I had a bad feeling.”
She looks away for a second, processing that.Or maybe trying not to.
I keep my voice even.“When he showed up, prospect called me.”
She looks back fast.“You just happened to be nearby?”
“No.”
The truth sits there between us.
“I was on my way.”
She studies me.“Because he called.”
