Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“Sure.” I challenge sarcastically drinking my coffee. I’m not going to directly argue with her, but I damn sure don’t buy this line.
She pauses. “You don’t believe me.”
I shrug. “I don’t know him. Don’t know you. Just watch and don’t like what I see, babe.”
Her mouth tightens slightly. “Roger likes to make small things into big ones sometimes, that’s all.”
I raise my eyebrows at her. “Seems like he’s good at it.”
She caps the coffee pot and sets it down. “You didn’t have to get involved. He would have given up eventually.”
I let her words sit between us for a beat. “Eventually.” She doesn’t reply but her face questions my remark. “Babe, when a woman doesn’t answer a phone, a man doesn’t show up where she works cornering her because he knows she can’t leave to ask why she won’t answer.”
“He wants answers, closure maybe. I don’t know. I shouldn’t ignore him I guess.” She tries for this casual conversation, but I can tells she’s anxious.
“Babe, hear me and really hear me, Lucy. You don’t own anyone shit, especially not an explanation or closure. He needs closure, he can talk to the motherfucker in the mirror. What he doesn’t get to do is make you feel some kind of way because his ego got bruised because the hottest piece in Freedom Falls ain’t got the time of day for a man child like him.”
She studies me for a second like she’s trying to figure something out. “It’s not that simple, Tucker.”
“But it can be, Lucy.” I challenge back.
After a pause, she shakes her head slightly and walks back toward the kitchen. I watch her go. Not obvious. Just enough to keep her in my peripheral.
The door jingles again and two construction guys walk in, laughing about something. They take a booth near the window and start arguing over whether they want pancakes or omelets. The normal noise of the diner rolls back into place.
But the tension from earlier lingers in the air like a storm that hasn’t fully passed. I finish the last bite of bacon and push the plate away.
Lucy returns with a small notepad. “Anything else?”
“Just the check.”
She tears it off and slides it across the counter. Our fingers brush again when I pick it up. Warm. Soft. She pulls her hand back quickly like she noticed it too.
I glance at the total. Eight dollars. I set a twenty down. “Keep the change, Lucy.”
“You don’t need to—”
I raise a hand silencing her. “Keep it.”
“That’s too much.”
“It’s not.”
Her brows knit slightly. “People are going to think something.”
I look around the diner. Everyone is very obviously watching us, and I don’t give a fuck. “They already do,” I state. “Man like me, babe, take note, don’t come in a diner for food alone.”
She laughs softly. “Fair point. So why did a man like you come in this morning?”
I slide off the stool and stand without answering her. The movement immediately shifts the energy in the room again. Being big has its perks. Also its drawbacks.
“You heading back to work?” she asks as if she doesn’t want me to leave.
“Yeah.”
She hesitates while still studying me. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For earlier with Roger and for the other night.”
I shrug. “You handled yourself. Men need to respect a woman’s boundaries”
“I was about to throw a coffee pot at him.” She tells me honestly as relief seems to be settling over her.
“Would’ve been effective.” I smirk, “and I would have enjoyed the show.”
She smiles again. A real one this time.
Then the bell over the door rings and another customer walks in. Lucy automatically shifts back into work mode.
“Morning! Sit wherever you like.”
I head for the door. But just before I reach it, I glance back. Lucy’s writing down an order at the counter, her ponytail swinging slightly when she nods at something the customer says. For a moment she looks completely at ease. Like someone whose life is simple.
I know better.
Outside, the morning sun has burned off the last of the fog rolling in from the Gulf. I swing onto the bike and start the engine. The rumble echoes down the street.
Across the road a couple teenagers stop talking and stare. Kings of Anarchy draw attention. Always have and always will. I ride slowly down Main Street toward the ship yard. But halfway there I realize something. I don’t know much about Lucy Coe. As a man, as a club, even, we don’t dig into women who roll into town until something happens drawing our attention to them. Maybe that needs to change. Not because I’m certainly intrigued by the woman, but because women pose a threat all their own to men like me.
With Lucy, I feel the caveman inside me need to know everything because the little I do know bothers me.
Single mom. A past that has her locked in a flight or fight mode. She lives with a fear that freezes her instead of pushing back. That combination rarely ends well.