Page 117 of In a Word, Yes

“The distinguished Sweet Reads Writing Society.”

“Word nerd,” he teases. “Hey, Lucy, really, though. I’m so proud of how much you’ve accomplished since we began. Excited for this book project with your mom. Does it scare you?”

“Yes. If I’m honest, it does a little.”

“Maybe that’s because it matters to you.”

I think about this for a beat. “Maybe that’s why I so quickly ran away from what you and I had begun. Because it matters so much.”

Wyatt leads me to a bench, and we huddle together, pretending it isn’t miserably cold.

“You know, this part of town reminds me... did I ever tell you that on my first day out on bike patrol, I thought my biking days were numbered?”

A mental warning light flashes yellow. “Mmm, no. I don’t think so.”

“You’ll never believe this, but I was coming along Pine—well, actually, right there.” Wyatt gestures to the street in front of us. “And lo and behold, someone nearly smacked into me.”

“Someone...” My warning light flickers to orange.

“A woman. On foot.” He looks me up and down. “Matter of fact, she was about your build. Same hair color, too, I’m pretty sure.”

Red light.I feel the tips of my ears go hot. “Wyatt Hayes, you knew all along!”

“What did I know? Is this some kind of confession?”

“That depends. How serious of a crime is jaywalking?”

“Great question. Very pertinent. In the state of Oregon, jaywalking is considered a discretionary infraction.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning officers may use their discretion about issuing a citation.”

“Lieutenant Hayes, fess upright now. Did you—”

“Next round, spelling bee. Your word is ...misdemeanor.”

My hand slides to my hip. “Ahh! Youdid.”

“Not quite sure what you’re referring to. You’ll have to spell it out for me.”

“Whatever. Write me a citation. Fine me. Get it over with.” I press a kiss to his chin, his lips. “You’re worth it.”

Wyatt’s eyes spark. “I’m the guilty one. Guilty of falling in love with you, Lucy Montgomery.”

For a time we stay like this, contentedly cocooned.

“What if ... what if it’s hard?” I say into his warm neck.

He answers without hesitation. “Hard doesn’t scare me.”

I feel the rumble of his words as much as hear them.

“What if I...? What if we...?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he croons, brushing strands of hair off my face. “Look at me, Luce.”

I seek Wyatt’s eyes with mine and find intensity there. But also an amber ocean of infinite tenderness.