“Night, Lucy.”
“Goodnight, Tucker.”
I let myself out and close the door behind me.The night air hits cool after the warmth inside.I stand on her porch for a second, helmet in one hand, staring out at the dark street and trying to get a grip on myself.
Worth getting this right.
That’s the truth of it.Lucy Coe is not some easy thing to fall into.She’s not a distraction.Not a fling.Not a warm body between rides and club business and all the ways I used to define my life.
She’s a woman with a child and a past full of fear and enough quiet courage to stop running.
And I’m already too far in to pretend this is casual.
Back inside, through the faint curtain shift in the window, I catch one last glimpse of her standing there in the kitchen, fingertips brushing her mouth like she can still feel the kiss.
Something tightens in my chest.
Yeah.
I think she’s falling.
And if I’ve got any damn sense left at all, I’ll make sure there’s something safe for her to fall into.
As for me, I’ve already lost myself to whatever this is between us.I can’t deny it and I don’t want to.
FIFTEEN
LUCY
Afew weeks pass, and somewhere in the middle of them, Tucker stops feeling like a disruption and starts feeling like a part of my life.
Not in some dramatic, sweeping way.Not overnight.Just slowly.Steadily.Dependable, like sunrise.
We start each day texting the usual greetings.After a night out, one where he stayed late watching a movie with me long after we came home and got Quinn to bed, I overslept and ran late.The morning text is something that might be alarming to me coming from any other man.From Tucker, though, knowing how he wants to take care of me, it makes sense.
Eat breakfast.
No hello.No punctuation beyond what’s necessary.Just an order because he has learned I skip meals sometimes.A conversation we recently had when he came to the diner and I was a little snippy because I was hangry.
I stare at my phone while Quinn brushes her teeth and laugh under my breath.Then I text back.
This romantic streak of yours is really something.
His reply comes thirty seconds later.
You like it.Now eat.
I do.Which is unfortunate.
Two days later after a morning shift, his text comes in:
Rain coming.Drive careful.
Later:
You home yet?
Another thing I’ve noticed is whenever I’m working and he’s out, stopping at a store, or simply in the area, he sends a text to pick up any slack he can.
