"Just take the next right up here."
Her hand slightly shook as she pointed in the direction out the front of the car. His car. He'd insisted on driving her that afternoon. Secretly, she was happy for it. It'd been a pretty emotional day so far.
She grabbed her wrist and held it in her lap, a futile attempt to quell the nervous energy. Her palms were sweaty and her stomach twisted in knots.
It's as if she forgot how to breathe.
Deep, deep breath.
She stared out the window as the trees and houses and streetlights zipped past. They blurred together in a kaleidoscopic harmony as her thoughts drifted to earlier that morning.
The game plan had been a simple one. Go in, get some things, say hi to mom (if she's there), and leave. She wanted to have a longer conversation with her mom, but not now. Just…not now.
One problem at a time.
Not that he was a problem. Far from it. But her mind was still sorting, processing. Therefore, it'd be a while before she could deal with her mother.
But she did need to see her mom and talk to her to at least smooth things over. It'd been three days since their fight when she was kicked out of the house. She missed her mom. Missed their talks, her advice, their historical debates.
It was all so stupidly surreal. It'd be so much easier if she could just tell her mother about her time traveling life. About Mason Industries, Noah, Amy…Wyatt.
Well, she'd probably find out about that last one soon enough.
Wyatt reached for her hand, pulling her back to the present.
"Hey, it's gonna be okay. I mean, I don't know her, but if she's anything like you, she'll understand. Just give her a chance."
She nodded.
"Yeah. No, I know." She placed her other hand on top of his. "Thank you for coming with me." She glanced up. "Oh, it's that house there."
He pulled to a stop in front of the large residence.
The conversation with her mom could go several ways. But she knew, regardless of how it happened, it had to happen. She'd panicked a few times recently when she realized that things could still change with her mom after a mission. They could come back and her mom could have lung cancer again. Or, the worst scenario, her mom could not be there at all.
Regardless, Lucy didn't want to leave on another mission without speaking to her mom while she had the chance. Wyatt agreed and they both thought now was as good a time as any for him to meet her mom, while there was still the chance for that, too.
Especially since he was going to be a permanent fixture in her life now.
The kisses had been numerous and their hands wandered over most of each other earlier that morning. But that's as far as things went between them, though it wasn't for lack of wanting.
They knew how one another felt, even if they didn't say it out loud. It was never that easy. It should be but it rarely happened that way, at least in her experience.
But this was Wyatt. They'd technically known each other only a short time, but it felt much longer. They trusted each other, believed in each other, and did whatever necessary to protect one another.
She'd never, ever had that in her life before. With anyone.
He'd kissed her like she'd never been kissed before. Passionately but gently, and with such desperation she was sure he'd never let go or, at the very least, come up for air.
If she could physically describe bliss, this was it. The warm sun blanketed them as he tenderly kissed her lips, her cheek, her closed eyes, her forehead. His hands tugged at her shirt hem, his thumb grazing her skin, as if asking permission to continue roaming higher. She returned his caresses with her own, kissing and lingering along his jaw, his neck, and behind his ear.
(That last spot was one she'd remember for later, since he gasped and moaned deeper than she'd ever heard.)
She'd never experienced such happiness with someone.
Which is why she was slightly confused when he rolled away from her and onto his back, tugging her against him. She complied and rested her head on his chest, his strong arm holding her close to him.
They laid there in silence for a long time, each catching their breath.
"We should…take it…slow."
His voice was shaky and unsure. Not the usual confident Wyatt Logan she was used to.
She knew he was right. Of course, he was right. He was still grieving his late wife, and she, well, technically, she had a fiancé.
Dang it! Just break up with the guy already.
One problem at a time.
She nodded against his chest.
"Yeah. I- I think so, too."
His hand traced imaginary lines up and down her arm, causing her to shiver and snuggle closer to him. He kissed the top of her head and slowly stroked her hair.
"So…what do you want to do today? We could call Rufus and Jiya and see what they're up to. Maybe hang out later?"
"Um – actually. I…need to get some things at my mom's. Just some clothes and a few other things. And…" Just say it. Say it and get it over with. "…I also need to break up with a fiancé sometime in the near future."
He stilled next to her, his breaths becoming shallow.
"Oh. Yeah. No, that's- those are good plans."
Was that…disappointment? Or jealousy?
"I suppose I also need to go look at some apartments."
He froze.
"What? Why?"
She looked up at him.
"To…live? I need a place to live."
He was indignant.
"I thought –"
"What?"
He shook his head.
"Nothing."
Oh no, mister.
"Wyatt. Tell me."
He took a deep breath and searched everywhere but her eyes before he spoke.
"I just thought…maybe you could stay here."
The world around her stopped. Everything. Stopped.
Was Wyatt Logan asking her to move in with him?
"What?"
She propped herself up on her elbow to get a better look at him.
"Here. Stay here, Lucy."
A chill ran through her. Really, it was all she could've hoped for. All she'd dreamt of, especially lately.
She shook her head, partially in disbelief and also because it was soon. Way too soon.
"Wyatt. I don't- I don't know. I mean, it's one thing to spend a couple of days here, but we're talking about living together. That's-"
"A big deal. I know. But, I've thought about it." He sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. "I'll prove it."
He stood and walked to his dresser, opening up the two long top drawers. He turned and motioned for her to take a look.
She skeptically got out of bed and walked to him. There, open before both of them, were two empty drawers.
"Drawers. Drawers?"
She scrunched her brow. He huffed and folded his arms.
"Yes, drawers. I cleaned them out last night while you were drugged."
Realization hit her like that goon's car. But this was much less painful.
No, this was wonderful. She struggled to hold the tears that immediately came to her eyes.
"You- you're giving me drawers. Here. In your apartment."
He smirked, cockily.
"Well, I don't have any drawers anywhere else to give you."
Her mouth opened and closed the way it always did when she was rendered speechless.
"Wyatt."
He smiled.
"Is that a yes? You'll stay?"
She beamed.
"Are you kidding me? Of course!" She lunged at him, throwing her arms around his neck. He smiled and pulled her close, but she suddenly pulled back and looked at him. "But…I don't- I mean, I feel like I should get you something." He eyed her quizzically. "It's just…this is…well, no one's ever given me drawers before. I'm not exactly sure how to reciprocate."
She smiled apologetically.
He'd later tell her how adorable he found her smile to be.
(But not too much later.)
He raised an eyebrow and pulled her closer, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"I can think of a few ways you could reciprocate."
She feigned shock and lightly smacked his chest.
"Hey! What happened to taking it slow?"
He nodded and leaned in, their lips barely touching. "Oh, right." Ever so tenderly, and slowly, he kissed her for several seconds. He then pulled back and whispered in her ear, "Is that slow enough for you? Or would you like me to try again?"
She smirked, narrowed her eyes, and lowered her voice.
"I think you should definitely try again."
And that's when she realized two things about Wyatt Logan: He never backed down from a challenge, and when he fought for something, he fought with all his heart.