Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 48518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Far enough not to look like a creep. Close enough that I can watch.
Lucy opens the book, her voice soft but animated. She gives characters accents. Makes them laugh. Makes Holly laugh. Makes the room feel brighter than the fluorescent lights overhead. Holly rests her head on Lucy’s shoulder halfway through.
Lucy doesn’t even pause. She adjusts her hold, tucks Holly closer, and keeps reading like she’s done this a thousand times. Something sharp and unexpected pulls tight inside my chest. When the book ends, Holly lets out a dreamy sigh and curls against Lucy’s side like she found her favorite place in the world. Lucy rubs her back without thinking. “You okay, hon?”
Holly nods. “I miss Mommy sometimes,” she whispers. “But I like it here.”
Lucy stills, meeting my eyes across the room. I look away. I can’t— Not with her looking at me like that.
Holly continues, soft and honest in the way only kids can be. “Uncle Ash reads me books before bed. And we bake cookies. I didn’t know men could cook.”
Lucy bites her lip to hide a smile.
I roll my eyes. “I cook fine.”
“You burn grilled cheese,” Holly says.
“One time.”
“Three times.”
Lucy presses a hand to her mouth to smother a laugh.
“Traitor,” I mutter.
Holly snuggles even closer to Lucy. “Uncle Ash is like my pretend daddy.”
My heartbeat stutters. Lucy seems to stop breathing. Holly sighs. “I like having a pretend daddy.”
She looks up at Lucy. “Do you have a daddy?”
Lucy hesitates. Then she speaks quietly. “I had a grandma. She and mommy and Uncle Ash raised me. Every Christmas she helped me decorate my room. We’d hang garlands and lights and read stories. She was my favorite person in the whole world but she died last year, that’s why Uncle Ash has to watch me now while mommy works away.”
Holly’s voice softens. “Do you miss her?”
“Every day,” Lucy says.
Holly nods and rests her head on Lucy’s lap. “I miss her and Mommy every day.”
Lucy brushes Holly’s hair back with gentle fingers. “Missing someone means you loved them. That’s a good thing.”
Holly closes her eyes. I swear the room shifts around me. Lucy looks at me again—really looks. Like she’s seeing past the uniform, past the scowl, past the weight I carry. And something in her gaze changes. Softens. Warms. Breaks me down without touching me.
She whispers—too soft for Holly to hear, but not too soft for me: “You’re doing a good job, Ash.”
I swallow hard. “Trying.”
“You’re not trying,” she counters quietly. “You’re protecting her. You’re giving her safety and love and stability when her whole world changed. That’s not trying. That’s showing up. That’s… everything.”
Her voice hits something raw. Something I don’t let anyone get close to.
I look away because if I don’t, I might say something I can’t take back.
Holly falls asleep five minutes later, curled against Lucy with a death grip on her sweater.
Lucy whispers, “Should I move her?”
“No,” I say. “She’ll wake.”
Lucy nods, stroking Holly’s hair with soft, steady movements. She looks… different like this. Softer. Almost fragile. I can’t stop watching her. The way her fingers move gently.
The way her shoulders curve protectively around Holly. The way she hums a little tune under her breath, probably without realizing. It hits me harder than I expect.
I clear my throat. “So. Books.”
She lifts a brow. “Yes, Lieutenant Calder. Books. They exist. I know that’s shocking for you.”
“I read.” The words are too defensive, too fast.
She grins. “Oh yeah? Something dangerous, I assume. Like the town code manual.”
“I’ve read that.”
“Of course you have.” She smirks. “You probably read it for fun.”
“It’s not fun.”
“Then why did you read it?”
I look at her. “Someone has to keep people like you alive.”
She bites her lip. “People like me?”
“People who fall off ladders.”
“It was one ladder.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And it wasn’t my fault.”
“You climbed it.”
She laughs quietly so she won’t wake Holly. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re reckless.”
Her eyes flick up to mine, warm and amused. “And you love having someone to lecture.”
“Maybe.”
She tilts her head. “Maybe?”
I shrug. “You give me a lot of material.”
Her mouth curves. “You’re not as grumpy as you pretend to be.”
“That’s a dangerous assumption.”
“No,” she says softly, eyes flicking over my face. “I think grumpy is your shield.”
I go still.
She keeps going. “And I think you’re softer than you want anyone to know.”
My jaw tightens. “Lucy.”
“I mean it,” she whispers. “What you’re doing for her… I can’t imagine how hard it is. But you’re doing it. And you’re doing it well.”
I look away because I don’t know how to hold her gaze and keep my composure at the same time.
“You don’t know me,” I say quietly.
“I’m learning,” she says, just as quiet.
Something flickers between us. Something I don’t have a name for. Something hot and fragile and dangerous. I stand abruptly. “I should… check the truck.”
Lucy nods slowly, studying me like she’s reading the fine print on my soul.