I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand, grabbing my robe as I head toward the window.
Outside, the morning is calm.Quiet.Normal.
For a second, I wonder if last night was real at all.If maybe I imagined it.The fear.The doorbell.Roger.The prospect.
Tucker showing up—I pull the curtain aside.And freeze.Because there, on my front porch is Tucker.One arm behind his head.Boots still on.A duffle bag I’ve never seen before tucked under his head like a pillow.
Asleep.
Guarding my front door.
When he should have shut all of this down and out because he has a life all his own, he didn’t.When he should have left to go do whatever it is bikers do, he didn’t.
He stayed.He slept outside to make sure my daughter and I remained safe and unbothered.
I’m not sure what to say or how to feel.The only thing I know is seeing him like this makes something in my belly get squishy and soft.And it’s not an unwelcome feeling.
But it is one that I know can be dangerous for my heart.
TEN
MELLOW
Iwake up to the sound of a lock turning.Not fast.Not panicked.Soft metal shifting, followed by the quiet creak of a front door opening.
My eyes crack open to a wash of morning light and the sight of Lucy standing over me in a pale robe, one hand still on the doorknob, her hair sleep-mussed around her shoulders.
For half a second, I don’t move.She looks like an angel.
She stares.
I’m stretched out on her porch with my duffle bag under my head, one boot hooked over the other, cut folded beneath me to keep the wood from digging into my back.Not exactly my proudest visual.But I’ve slept in worse places.A lot worse actually.
It’s funny because I used to travel with a sleeping bag on my motorcycle.Traveling wherever the road led, I sometimes slept in parking lots or rest areas on the interstates.I still keep a duffle bag type of insert in the saddle bags of my bike with a spare set of clothes, toiletries, and things to get me by for a few days should the road call me to that lifestyle once again.
Lucy blinks once.Then again.“What are you doing?”Her voice comes out hushed, like she’s trying not to wake the whole street.
I push up onto one elbow and scrub a hand down my face.“Morning.”
She keeps staring.“Tucker.”
“Making sure you’re safe.”The words land between us and sit there.
Lucy glances out toward the yard, then the road, then back at me like maybe there’s a more normal explanation she just hasn’t reached yet.
“You slept on my porch.”
“Yeah.”I reply fighting the urge to say well, that’s obvious.I’m not sure Lucy would appreciate my brand of sarcasm this early in the morning.
“All night?”
“Mostly.I mean it was after two before you finally went to sleep.”
She folds her arms over herself, tightening the robe closed.“That is not normal.”
“No.Didn’t claim it was, babe.”
Her gaze narrows.“You couldn’t just leave?”
