That secret I could hold alone—for now.
Luke texted an hour later when I was back home.Lunch?
I smiled at the screen.
Me:Absolutely.
He pulled up just before noon and stepped out of his SUV before I reached the driveway, moving toward him without hesitation. His hand went to my waist automatically, thumb moving in slow circles through my shirt like it had muscle memory.
“You look tired,” he said quietly.
“It’s Saturday.”
“That’s not an answer.”
I leaned into him, resting my forehead briefly against his shoulder. His Henley smelled like clean laundry and something distinctly him.
“I’ve just been thinking.”
His hand stilled. “About?”
I hesitated half a second too long.
Not about the message.
Not about the warning.
Not about someone telling me I would ruin him.
“About how we haven’t had five minutes alone without something blowing up,” I said instead.
That wasn’t a lie.
His grip tightened slightly. “That bothering you?”
“A little.” I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “I don’t want us turning into crisis management.”
Something in his expression shifted. Softer. Protective.
“We’re not,” he said.
“I know. I just…” I searched for the right balance between truth and concealment. “I don’t want to blink and realize we’ve been fighting everyone else more than we’ve been choosing each other.”
He stepped closer, thumb gliding under the hem of my long sleeve to brush my wrist.
“I choose you,” he said evenly. “That part isn’t complicated.”
My chest twisted for entirely different reasons.
“I know,” I whispered. “I just miss you.”
He studied me another second, like he was deciding whether to push further. Then he exhaled.
“Lunch,” he said, brushing his lips lightly across my temple. “And after that, you’re mine for at least a few hours. No interruptions.”
The promise warmed something under the anxiety. “That sounds fair.”
He opened the passenger door for me, hand lingering at my lower back as I climbed in.
