“Pity.It was kind of good.”
This time his mouth actually does twitch.
Small.
But there.
I pick up a fry mostly because he told me to and because obeying him in this tiny harmless way feels easier than arguing.Plus, I like French fries.
He watches until I eat it.Then finally stands and pulls out the chair across from me.For the rest of the evening, he stays.
Marlaina drops Quinn off half an hour later and Tucker greets her like nothing is wrong, like the room doesn’t still carry the echo of Clint’s voice.Quinn chatters about finger painting and a loose tooth and whether dragons would like chicken nuggets, and Tucker listens the way he always does—fully, patiently, with his attention fixed where it matters.
Later, while I do bath time and story time, he fixes the loose cabinet hinge by the sink because apparently that was bothering him too.
When Quinn is finally asleep and the house settles into night, I find him in the living room sitting on the couch with one arm stretched across the back, boots planted on my rug like he’s always belonged there.
He looks up when I come in.
“You okay?”
The question has become so constant between us that it no longer sounds strange.
I nod.
“Better.”
“Good.”
I sit beside him.Not too close at first.Then closer.Until my shoulder touches his arm.He doesn’t move.Doesn’t make a thing of it.Just lets me lean.And in that quiet, with the house locked and Quinn asleep and Tucker Bostic steady beside me, I realize something I probably should have admitted sooner.
I’m not just falling for him anymore.I’m trusting.
And that is somehow even more terrifying.
SIXTEEN
MELLOW
There’s something surreal about standing in a parking lot full of motorcycles before sunrise while Lucy Coe adjusts the strap of her helmet beside me like this is something we do all the time.
Maybe it’s the soft blue of early morning still hanging low over Freedom Falls.Maybe it’s the line of bikes glinting under the gas station lights.Maybe it’s the fact that Quinn spent the night at Marlaina’s so Lucy could come on this ride with me and not worry every five seconds about whether her daughter’s eaten enough fruit or brushed her teeth.They are having a girl’s glamping weekend according to Marlaina while I show Lucy more of my lifestyle.
Whatever it is growing between us, I feel it.This strange, steady awareness that something in my life has shifted so hard I’ll never get it back to where it was before.
Lucy steps closer, fingers smoothing down the front of her denim jacket.She’s got jeans on, boots, and one of my old black t-shirts.The sight of her in my shirt nearly took me out when I picked her up.
Now I’m pretending I’m handling it better than I am.Because it makes me wonder what she would look like after a night deep inside her and waking with her wearing only my shirt.It makes me want to take her to bed not a club family function.
“You sure you’re good?”I ask for probably the third time in ten minutes.
She glances up at me, amusement flickering in her eyes.“You’ve asked me that six times.”
“Five.”
She laughs, “Six.”
I step closer and tug lightly on the chin strap of her helmet to make sure it’s secure.“You’d tell me if you changed your mind.”
