Chapter Seventeen

Landon

 

I meant it when I told Mr. Ballantyne I’d keep it professional, and I’m not trying to be a dick. But with Luci so close, professionalism took a step down and skipped happily away, leaving me to step up and get to know this sweet thing a whole lot better.

“Knock, knock,” I say.

She glances up from her desk. As always it’s littered with neat piles of papers that never seem to get smaller, regardless how late she stays.

“Hi.” Her attention shifts from the letter she’s skimming through to the bags in my arms. “What’s this?”

“Lunch.”

“For me?” she asks.

“Yeah, but I bought a lot.” I shrug. “I was hoping some of the Jersey’s rubbed off and enough southern hospitality has sunk in so not only will you thank me for being a gentleman and buying you lunch, but insist that I join you.”

She nibbles on her bottom lip just as she does when she thinks she shouldn’t give in, except in the end she always does. Good. It gives me hope we still have a chance.

I think I should tell her how crazy it drives me, in all the right ways, of course. But then she might stop doing it and we can’t have that, can’t we, y’all?

“Thank you for being a gentleman.” She clears a spot on her desk. “But I must insist you join me.”

“You sure?” I hold out a hand. “Far be it for me to impose.”

She laughs, appearing shy. I don’t remember her being this shy around me back when we were alone at my place and the rest of the world seemed so far away. But the world here is front and center, appearing to drive us apart although I don’t understand why.

Her job is important. I get it. Except there has to be more.

“Do I smell Asian?” she asks.

“Why, Miss Luci, that’s quite an impressive nose you have there.” I pass her a small white container packed with noodles. “Right there is the best Pad Thai this side of Charlotte. Your favorite right?”

She reaches for the box and the pair of wooden chopsticks I dig out from the bag. “I do love it. But if memory serves, it’s your favorite,” she reminds me.

“True,” I agree, opening the lid to my crispy duck. “But if I’m buying you lunch, I think it’s fair I buy something I like, too.”

“It was very nice of you,” she says, her voice growing quiet as if she’s worried she’s said too much. She places her food down and removes her scarf, folding it carefully and placing it on the shelf behind her. I want to tease her and ask her about the hickies I know now are long gone. But I promised myself I wouldn’t push her and wait until she’s ready. I’m just hoping she’ll be ready for me sooner rather than later.

The other week, when I called, I laid on the charm, hoping to make her laugh and coax her into dating me. But the way her voice splintered, just about broke my heart. She has a lot on her plate and I can’t help thinking she handles too much on her own.

The work in the office keeps her busy, the attorneys, staff, everyone is always wanting and needing a piece of her. She takes it all in stride, putting out fires, offering support and assistance. No wonder so many people like her. But it’s what goes on when she leaves that concerns me.

If you’re going to be a boyfriend, be a friend first. It’s what my mother always said. I didn’t pay much attention to it, until my sister Trinity started dating. It opened my eyes to how much women need a friend in those they entrust their hearts to. The thing is, it doesn’t always work in reverse. Some people aren’t worth giving your heart or your friendship to, my ex proved that. Luci, though, I don’t know, I’m hoping I can be that friend she needs as well as that something more.

The light casting through her window engulfs her in ethereal light. She’s wearing a black turtleneck that hugs her figure and a hound’s tooth black and white skirt. She typically dresses in pastels that soften her further and bring out her eyes and the highlights in her hair. But the black, brings out the sexy, even though that’s probably not her intent.

She sits, careful not to make direct eye contact. It’s something she does a lot around me. I wonder if she’s scared I might pick up on something she doesn’t want me to see. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to have a look.

“How’s the Loreno case going?” she asks.

I finish swallowing a bite of my food. Being who she is, she uncaps a bottle of water and passes it to me without me asking. I take a sip and set it down on her desk. “You heard about that?”

“I don’t involve myself in a lot of the cases,” she explains. “But every now and then some pique my interest.”

“You’re checking up on me?”

“Maybe.”

I cock a brow, surprised she’d admit as much. “Maybe?”

She laughs. “I wanted to make sure you were transitioning well into your new role. And if you weren’t, I wanted to see if I could help.”

“Even if you don’t have Mafia ties?”

She covers her mouth with a napkin. “I’m sorry about that. But the way you phrased your words could have been better.” She clears her throat, her light voice deepening in an attempt to mimic mine and her words drawing out to match my thick southern drawl. She’s nowhere close to anything I sound like, but her attempt is damn cute.

“I know people,” she says. “Powerful people.”

“Luke, I am your father,” I add.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks.

“It means you sound more like a Southern Darth Vader than anything like me.”’

“Forgive me. I don’t possess neither the vocal chords nor the chest hair to sound like you.” Her expression pinches as if she went somewhere she can’t come back from. “I didn’t mean,” she begins.

“Mean what?” I point at my chest with my chopsticks. “You weren’t referring to the soldiers lying along the muscular field, were you?”

She holds up a hand. “I really didn’t mean to go there,” she stammers.

“Go where?” I tease. There she goes again, thinking about me naked and maybe how her palm would rest against my “soldiers”. I want to ask her about it and how it felt to have me so close. But I’m trying to be good, even though sometimes, like now, it’s damn near impossible.

“Luci?” One of the secretaries pokes her head in, her face lighting up when she sees me. “Oh, hi, Mr. Summers. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Hey.” I think she’s apologizing to Luci, but her attention stays on me. I return to my food. I think her name is Tiffany or maybe it’s Cindy.

“Can I help you, Coral?” Luci asks.

Hmm, wrong on both counts.

“Hey, Luci,” she says, evidently forgetting Luci is still present. “I was wondering about the office party.”

I search through the bag when I remembered I ordered an appetizer we’ve yet to start on.

“What about it?” Luci asks.

“I was just hoping you’d give us more details.”

Luci pauses. “I sent an office wide email explaining the time, who would be there, and what we’re offering. I could send it again.”

“I have it,” she says. “I wasn’t sure if there would be more to it, like a gift exchange.”

Shit. I don’t know Cora or whatever her name is, but I know she’s lying.

I think Luci knows, too. She replies politely like always, showing her patience most of the higher ups would lack. “Since we’re so far away from the holidays, we didn’t want the staff to feel obliged to buy gifts. If you feel they’d like one, you can certainly post it—”

“That’s not necessary,” she says, cutting her off. “I’ll see you later. Bye, Mr. Summers.”

“Bye,” I say. I pass the tin of stuffed shrimp. “Would you like one?”

My focus turns to where she’s staring behind me. Cora is leaning over another cubicle, whispering to another woman. The other woman looks up when she sees me and Luci watching her. Cora stops speaking, her eyes widening before straightening.

Luci is already to her feet. Cora starts to walk away. “Excuse me, Coral, Tricia, I’d like a word with both of you.” She positions herself between the women, her voice soft but loud enough for me to hear, along with those in the immediate area. “I think this might be a good time to remind you that office gossip is greatly discouraged.”

“I wasn’t gossiping,” she answers, quickly.

Man, Cora, Coral or whoever she is can’t lie worth a damn.

“If so, you have nothing to worry about. Otherwise, I think you should consider how seriously you take your job and how you’d like your coworkers to perceive you.” She turns and heads back to the office.

“Sorry, Luci,” the other woman calls after her, but not before casting Coral a nasty glare.

Luci shuts her door as she walks in, her steps slowing. “Are you okay with the door closed?” she asks.

“Whatever you want.” I grin. “I trust you to keep your hands to yourself.”

About me giving her space, I’m trying. But she is beautiful and I am human.

I place a couple of the shrimp on the lid to the tin, focusing on what I’m doing rather than greeting the blush that no doubt comes. I pass her the food, grinning like a fool when I catch traces of her heated cheeks.

“A lot of the people who work here are really great,” she tells me.

“Hmm,” I say, finishing off another bite.      

“Unfortunately, we have had some issues and I like to stop them before they start.” She waits for me to answer.

I keep chewing. This is some good duck.

“A few years ago, one of our attorneys became involved with his personal assistant. It was fine at first and turned serious rather quickly. It also didn’t take long for those emotions to fade and for something decent to become ugly.” She shudders. “Very ugly.”

I take a few gulps of water. “Are you talking about Duncan and wife number two?”

“You heard about that?”

“Straight from the horse’s mouth about all the mares he’s had in the stable.”

She sighs. “Did he happen to mention one of the mares tried to sue us when he ventured into another pasture?”

I chuckle. “Nope. But I’m not surprised.”

“What saved us was that she no longer worked here,” she explains. “With the amount Duncan brings in, she didn’t feel she had to work.”

“She was probably right,” I agree. “Nothing against her.”

“Right,” she adds slowly. “But since that day we’ve encouraged the employees to be cautious with who they interact and how they treat others.” She fiddles with her chopsticks and adds, “I’m not sure what Coral said, but I was afraid she was leaving Tricia with the wrong impression of you, and possibly misinterpreting your presence in my office.”

“Oh, yeah?” I slide my water bottle away from the edge of the desk. “And what sort of impression do you think she was misinterpreting?”

I’ll admit I’m playing with and twisting her words. Same way I’ll admit I like the way she’s fighting that smile.

Never mind. There it is.

I turn around, pretending to look behind me, not that I really bother. “Shit. You think she thinks we’re a thing?”

“It’s possible . . .”

“Mmm.”

“I take it you agree?” she asks.

I finish my food. “No, I just really like this crispy duck.”

I wink when she laughs.

If I’m being honest, I hope Coral tells the whole office there’s something between us. The “did you know they slept together” train is slowly coming to a stop and I’d rather keep it going. Not to be a douche, but too many men have asked me how I snagged her, not just because they’re nosy bastards, but because they want to have her too. I don’t bother to share the details, just like I don’t hesitate to tell them to go home to their wives.

“You’re not worried about me, are you?” I smirk when she averts her gaze. “Here I thought you were only concerned about your reputation.”

For the first time in too long, she meets me square in the face, her pretty gaze softening and reminding me just how much I like this woman and how real she is. “You’re a good person, Landon. I think it’s only fair people know it, too.”

“How can you tell?” My voice quiets. “You don’t even know me.”

It’s what I say, even though I think the same thing about her.

She pokes at food with her chopsticks. “I know enough,” she answers almost silently.

Yeah, and has seen even more.

“What about you?” I ask when she quiets. “Aren’t you worried about your reputation being in here with the likes of me?”

I swear that lovely face is going to split me in two. “I’ll be okay.” Her smile fades. “But with you being single, and with so many young women working here, be careful, okay?”

I’m not sure if she’s jealous. I’m hoping she is. She’s seen a few of the women approach me to chat. I’m polite, don’t get me wrong, and I’m also as friendly as I can be. The thing is, they don’t stand a chance, no one does; not with how I feel the more I get to know Luci.

“You don’t have to worry about me being with anyone else,” I answer truthfully.

What looks like relief seems to relax her shoulders. She knows what I mean. Just to be sure, I add another wink. It’s not really flirting. If it was, I’d pull her in for a kiss. Hey, if the staff wants to talk about us, let’s give them something juicy to talk about.

We polish off our entire feast a few minutes later. She gathers the containers and puts them in the bag as I chug the last of my water. “Thank you, it was delicious,” she says. “I don’t usually have lunch so it was a real treat.”

“You don’t?”

She shakes her head. “My responsibilities usually keep me from eating.”

“Then where were you all last week?”

“What?” she asks.

“Every time I drove back from court, I saw you walking outside. I figured you were headed somewhere to eat.”

“I run errands during lunch time,” she says.

I raise my eyebrows. Like Coral, Luci isn’t much of a liar. “All right,” I say, not knowing exactly why she feels the need to lie.

My tone alerts her that I don’t believe her. Her gaze falls to her desk. “Speaking of errands, I have to head out. Thank you, again.” She tosses the bag in the garbage and reaches for her coat. “My treat next time.”

As easy as that, the tension I feel dissolves. “And when will next time be?”

“Tomorrow?” she offers.

I make a face. “Can’t. I have Federal Court in the afternoon and I have to stop by Dania Loreno’s place in the morning.”

She pauses in the middle of buttoning her coat. “What are the chances you’ll be able to keep her in the country?”

I huff. “With everything happening in the world. Not good. But I’m going to try, even if it means a plea for asylum.”

She lifts her purse slowly. “On what grounds?”

I stretch out my arms. “She left Ecuador with her kids to escape an abusive ex, counting on those damn coyotes to get her across the border. She and her girls didn’t make it here unscathed and she’s worked herself to the bone to give them everything they wouldn’t have in her country. Her husband never got over her leaving him, if she’s sent back, she’s as good as dead, and so are her daughters. I don’t care what I have to do, but she’s not going back there on my watch.”

I’m prepared to send my client and her daughters to Canada if I have to. Luci probably knows it. But that’s not something that needs announcing. I like Luci too much to burden her with information the partners may not approve of.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” she says.

“Hopefully,” I agree.

I start to follow her to the elevators. “Where are you going?” she asks.

“I’m walking you out. It’s what real men do, besides flex and buy women lunch, I mean.”

She doesn’t laugh, like I want her to, putting my good humor immediately to sleep. “Oh, you don’t have to,” she says. “Like I mentioned, this is my time to run errands.”

I cock my head, not sure why she seems so nervous.

Hmm. Maybe nervous isn’t the best word. More like troubled.

I pause at the end of the hall, thinking I’m crowding her. “All right. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Yes, I’ll see you then.” She heads out, her pace fast. She seems to catch herself and slows, taking a moment to glance over her shoulder. “Thank you. It was nice spending time with you.”

“You’re welcome,” I say.

My smile returns at the sight of hers. But it’s the way she regards me that stays with me long after the elevator doors close behind her. She’s so gentle, in her mannerisms and the way she seems to take on the world.

I turn toward my office, bent on reviewing my case before the Federal Court. As a die-hard perfectionist by nature, I need to prepare and do right by Dania and her girls.

It’s going to be a rough and tumble case, and it’s going to keep me late tonight. When I think about how late, I reason a boost of caffeine might help.

I swing back around and head for the elevators. My phone buzzes as I step inside. Elenora, Dania’s oldest daughter sent me a text.

Mr. Summer. Will you be able to help my mama?

I shake my head, unable to grasp the kind of hell this kid is going through.

I’m going to do my best and take care of things. I promise, I text back.

I want to tell her not to worry. To just be a kid and let the adults handle the rest. But a kid like Elenora doesn’t have that luxury. She, like many in her situation, can’t just run outside and play. They’re constantly looking over their shoulders, well aware they’re not safe and don’t quite belong.

The elevator reaches the ground floor as I hit send.

My mind is on Dania and her family as I step into the large foyer. I pocket my phone, grinning when I see Luci at the coffee stand. I march forward, hoping I can pay for her coffee. But instead of coffee, she hefts a large paper bag in her arms and rushes away.

She seems tense. But what confuses me is where she’s headed with all that food. We just had lunch.

I wander toward the counter, looking at Luci as she pushes through the clear glass doors. “Hi, Mr. Landon,” the woman behind the counter says. “Would you like the usual?”

“Yes, thank you, Belinda.” I stop her before she can really start. “On second thought, no. I’ll be right back.”

She slides the large paper cup back in place, eyeing me like I’ve lost my damn mind, probably because I just might have. With more determination than reason, I take off after Luci.

The way my feet stomp across the marble tile is an indication of how fast I’m moving. I force myself to slow, stopping in front of the building as I step through the revolving doors. I glance to the right and down the long street. There’s no sight of Luci.

“What the hell are you doing?” I mutter to myself.

My first mistake was stepping out here. My second is turning left in time to see Luci disappear around the corner. I realize I’m being an idiot and possibly a stalker as I hurry after her, making what has to be mistake number three.

Okay, maybe mistake and stalker are strong words. Something isn’t right. Forget that we both ate a ton during lunch, and forget that she’s carrying enough food to feed a small army, and to make myself appear less like a freak, forget that this doesn’t appear to be a regular errand.

She tensed, becoming uncomfortable when I asked her where she was headed. And for some bizarre reason, she also tried to lie her way out of it.

Luci is the go-to for everything in the office, her duties extending past any office manager tasks I’ve ever seen. But those tasks are handled within the confines of the building. If she’s in some kind of trouble, I want to help her. And if she’s doing something she shouldn’t be doing for the firm, I want to stop her.

Shit. What is it with my need to protect her and make sure she’s safe?

I do a double-take when I catch sight of the lavender wool coat she’s wearing.

She crosses the street and heads toward the park. “Luci,” I call out.

I curse when I don’t quite make the light and Charlotte traffic drives full speed ahead. She didn’t hear me, at least I don’t think she did. Instead of yelling again, I watch her disappear into the park.

The minute the crosswalk sign lights up, I jog across. February in Charlotte is milder than up north, but it’s still a brisk forty degrees. If I wasn’t moving as fast as I am, I’d feel winter’s bite a hell of a lot more.

I follow the walkway Luci took, catching up to a few women pushing strollers. They turn toward the playground where about twenty kids are running around near the swings. Another woman trails them, holding a toddler’s hand who’s gripping a lollipop for all he’s worth. She smiles when I nod in her direction. The kid smiles back, his sticky and red-smeared face making me laugh.

Kids were something I always figured I’d have. My ex didn’t want them, and since I wanted her, I started to accept they weren’t in my future. But it’s like every time I’m around my nephew Cal, I’m reminded of why I wanted them to begin with.

Under the best circumstances, children aren’t jaded to how cruel life can be. They have hope that the world is okay, and that it remains a place they can laugh and play in. It’s something we all need to keep believing, even when we’re old and gray.

I make a mental note to call Trin later, hoping maybe to face-time with Cal. He may not be my son, but for now, he’s the closest thing I have, and carries enough hope for the both of us.

The park is busy, mostly filled with mothers and their babies. I catch a few fathers, one adjusting his daughter’s bunny hat, another pretending to be a bear chasing after his giggling son. That was always my dad, getting dirty right along with me and Trin while our mother giggled and set out our food.

If it weren’t for my need to make sure Luci is okay, I’d stop to take in all the parents fussing over their kids and how the sunlight trickles against the dogwoods starting to blossom.

But then I see her, continuing to hurry along.

I follow, surprised she’s not sitting on a bench, watching the children play. It’s closer to her nature, at least the side I’ve seen.

She walks to the end of the park, searching from left to right, the tension I sensed earlier just as evident as before. I start to close in when she latches onto something, her shoulders relaxing only to strain once more.

There’s something very wrong. I jog after her, wishing these dress shoes I’m in didn’t make so much noise. As I round the bend, I see her, standing on the sidewalk looking ahead.

“Hey,” I say.

She spins around, almost dropping her bag. My hand shoots out, steadying the bottom and helping her keep it in place. “You got it?” I ask.

She glances behind her. “What are you doing here?”

I shove my hands into my pockets, almost thinking I should lie. It sounds better than the truth right about now, except that’s not what I’m about. “I followed you out.”

Her eyes round. “Why?”

Yeah, this sounds worse than I thought. “I went to get coffee and saw you. You seemed anxious. I wanted to make sure you were all right.” I chuckle, hoping to lighten the moment. “Sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

She doesn’t answer which makes me think she agrees.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I, ah, was worried something was wrong.”

I wait for her to tell me she’s fine. She doesn’t, so either something is wrong, or I look worse than I feel. “Is something wrong?” I question.

She turns back. A crowd a people cross the intersection, headed in our direction. Most aren’t close enough to make out their faces, but there’s someone Luci appears to recognize.

A woman with a puffy yellow coat that’s about four sizes too big pokes her head around the crowd. Three more women shuffle behind her, one pulling a small wire cart. But it’s the two businessmen in front who catch my interest.

Both men hone in on Luci. I can’t blame them, not when the breeze sends a strand of hair to curl around her beautiful face and not when the coat she’s wearing lights up her tender gaze.

The man in the dark suit and coat smiles his approval. The one in gray perks up, pleased to see her.

“You’re meeting someone,” I answer for her. Her eyes widen. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

She trips over her words. “I know this doesn’t look good,” she says.

“Because you just had lunch with me or because I’m following you around like a lovesick puppy?”

She frowns. “What?”

“Never mind,” I grind out. Jesus Christ, when am I going to learn? Here I am, once again giving my heart to someone who doesn’t want it, and worrying over a woman who isn’t worth worrying about.

Anger burns through me as well as humiliation. She told me this wasn’t the best time for her, I guess now I know why. “If there was someone else, all you had to do was tell me and I would have walked away.”

I start to turn, my blood boiling when Luci scrambles in front of me. “This isn’t what you think,” she insists.

I’m in no mood for more lies and I’m damned tired of playing the fool. “Then enlighten me. What was New Year’s all about? You being lonely? Or you being lonely that one night?”

She clutches her bag, her stare shifting behind me. He’s here, that man in gray or black coat.

My steely gaze turns to greet him, whoever he is. I shouldn’t resent him, or be jealous. For all I know Luci belonged to him long before she met me. I should stand down like any decent man would and walk away, pretending I don’t know her like I do. But here I am, waiting to see who it is so I can finally accept there is no us and take it as another screw-up on my part.

As one, they both frown when they see me, looking quickly away from Luci and straight ahead. They don’t stop to greet her and she doesn’t seem to notice them. She’s focused on someone else.

I turn expecting to see another man, my spine stiffening when a crowd of homeless people edge forward. The woman in the puffy coat is first in line, followed by the woman with the metal cart, and another one wearing a dirty red coat. Two other men hang back a few away, both strung out, but not too high that they don’t know to keep their distance.

“Do you have any money?” the first woman asks.

Luci positions herself in front of me. “He doesn’t have any money,” she answers for me.

She places the large bag on a bench and steps out of her reach. “There’s plenty for everyone,” she tells them.

As she backs away, she clutches my arm and leads me toward the park. That’s a good thing, and much better than the punch to the nuts I deserve.

She hangs tight to me as we enter the park, glancing behind her every few feet to make sure we’re not being followed. We pass a small garden where city workers have begun to dig up the soil for new plants and flowers. It’s not until we reach another bend that she eases her hold and her arms slips away.

“I really wish you would say something,” she tells me.

“Sorry, it’s a little hard to speak with my foot rammed in my mouth.”

She laughs, but keeps her attention ahead. When she doesn’t say anything, I realize I need to. “You feed homeless people during your lunch break.”

“Yes,” she admits, her voice more quiet than usual.

“Why sneak around to do it?”

Her pace slows to a crawl. “There’s a lot I don’t want people to know about me,” she replies.

“I can see that,” I say. “But you feeding those who need it, it’s a good thing.”

I sigh. “Luci, I’ve seen a lot of suffering around the world. What I haven’t seen is enough people willing to help.” Her head lowers, like what I say makes her feel bad. “Why do you seem ashamed by it?”

I don’t think that’s the right word until I say it, and realize how bad it stings. This time, I’m the one holding her. I lead her to the bench. There’s a lot I want to do. For starters, apologize for being such an asshole. Instead I keep my arms around her and offer the comfort I think she needs.

“Landon, I don’t let a lot of people into my life, and although I have friends, there’s a lot they don’t know about me and more things I feel I need to keep to myself.” She swallows hard, like she’s fighting not to cry. “It’s nothing against you or anyone. I just don’t want others to know what I do during my lunch hour.”

I still don’t understand. What I understand is that she’s a private person, more than I gave her credit for. I won’t push. Not now. Now, she needs my respect. “All right,” I say.

Considering what a dick I was, I don’t think I have a right to hold her. But I can’t stop myself from touching her, and gifting her with the kindness she’s always shown me. I stroke her cheek, wishing I could make the hurt she’s feeling disappear with each brush of my fingertips. “I thought you were meeting another lover.”

“Another lover”. Perhaps those aren’t the best words to use. They assume too much, like that’s what I am to her.

She adjusts her purse. I think she’s going to leave, but then she lifts her chin to better see me. “Why would you think that?” she asks, not bothering to call me out.

“Because you’re beautiful and smart, and every man who meets you knows it.”

She drops her gaze. “That’s not why you followed me.”

“No,” I agree. “You seemed upset and worried. I guess I was upset and worried for you.”

“Why?”

She still doesn’t understand why I’m here. “I like you, Luci, and not just as a friend, and because I do, I want to make sure I can help you if you need it.”

I’m expecting her to glance away the way she often does when things grow uncomfortable. She doesn’t, meeting my face with something that looks too much like hope. “You thought I was meeting another man,” she repeats, like she can hardly believe it.

As embarrassed as I am, I don’t bother denying it. “Yeah, I did.”

“You were really angry,” she points out.

“And jealous and humiliated,” I add. “I wish I wasn’t, and I wished I’d given you the benefit of the doubt. I’ve just been burned in ways you can’t imagine.” My voice drifts when I catch the hurt and pain that lingers in her features. “I take it back, maybe you can imagine.”

“Maybe,” she agrees.

I reach for her hand, taking it gently in mine. “I’m sorry for how I acted and how I spoke to you. Believe it or not, I’m not such a bad guy.”

“I don’t think you’re a bad guy.”

It’s what she claims, and at first I think she’s about to tell me more. When only silence follows, I’m the one who speaks. “Good,” I tell her, using care.

“You were really angry,” she says after a moment.

“Well, yeah,” I say, not bothering to argue.

“Why?”

“Because I thought there was someone else,” I remind her.

My comment seems to confuse her, as if she can’t understand how I’d think there could be someone else. I tell her why, even though like her, there are things I don’t what others to know about me, too. “My ex-wife had a pretty shit life.” She looks up, stunned. “I didn’t marry a socialite if that’s what you thought. I married a woman I thought I could help.”

“Help?” she asks.

“Yeah. She grew up surrounded by violence, a lot of addiction, and a father who cared more about boozing and snorting whatever drugs he could get his hands on than his own daughter.”

Luci stops moving completely, it doesn’t look like she’s breathing. I think I’m doing a piss-poor job of explaining why I married Bernadette so I try harder. “I thought I could save her and give her a better life, but I was never enough. It wasn’t a good marriage. I know that now. But I wanted to make it work. It took her cheating on me to see we were done.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice more of a stutter.

“I’m not,” I say. “Not anymore. As much as I like helping people, some aren’t worth a damn.”

Luci, looks down, swallowing enough misery to fill an endless ocean. “Baby, why do you look so sad?” I ask.

I don’t deserve to call her baby. But the word comes as easily as my need to feel close to her. Her gaze travels to where our hands are entwined. “There’s no one else,” she tells me, keeping her voice as tender as always. “I want you to know that.”

I take a chance. “Do you mean there’s no one at all, or no one besides me?”

A small breath escapes her mouth. This is what I’ve been waiting for, for her to stick me in the friend zone or to take on step closer. “There’s no one else besides you.”

She raises her chin.

I take another chance and kiss her.

The wheels of a squeaky stroller roll by and in the distance the laughter of children fills the air. But right now, all I think about is Luci, how good she feels in my arms and how much I don’t want to stop kissing her.