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The drive to Emily’s seems to be over too fast. I step out of the truck and ask her to wait.

I open her door. She beams at me and turns in her seat. I can’t say good night without kissing her at least once. I step into the open space and rest my hand on her leg.

Before I have a chance to do more, she slides to the edge of the seat and wraps her arms around my neck. “Thank you for such a nice night,” she whispers in my ear.

“You’re welcome, buttercup.”

She pulls away and I brush a few strands of stray hair off her cheek. I lean in and press my lips to hers. She sighs into my mouth and melts into me, tightening her arms around my neck.

Reaching behind her, I fumble for the dome light to shut it off, but the stupid truck doesn’t have them in a normal location. I grunt in frustration and pull away. “Don’t want to put on a show for all the neighbors,” I explain.

“I don’t care.” She pulls me closer for another kiss.

I slide my hand up her leg, grasping her thigh. I’m so fucking close to asking her to come home with me.

She sighs and pulls away. “Are you going to lift me out of the truck again?” She tilts her head, a soft smile playing over her lips.

“Sure thing.” I grip her waist and pull her toward me. She lets out a happy shriek, followed by laughter.

“I feel like a tiny little doll when you do that.”

I set her down on the sidewalk. “You are tiny compared to me.”

I reach for the door and slam it shut, then take her hand.

“You’re going to walk me to the door?” she asks, surprise coloring her tone.

“It’s late. Of course I am.”

A warm yellow glow spills over the front steps and into the yard. Brighter lights burst over the sidewalk as we approach the house.

“Careful, the lights are blinding,” she warns. “I almost fell on my butt the other night.”

“She’s got good security.”

“I knew you’d approve.”

Still rather have her living with me, but this is a vast improvement over her apartment.

On the front porch, she turns and faces me. “Thank you for such a nice evening.”

“Any time, buttercup.” A strange awkwardness settles over us. “It’s been a long time since I ‘dated.’ Trying to remember all the steps.”

“You do fine.” She presses her body against mine and tips her head back, almost like an invitation. I stroke her cheek while studying every curve and angle of her face. I skim my finger down the perfectly straight slope of her nose. “I hope our baby has your nose.”

She tilts her head. “You really are excited, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea.” I nod to the door. “Let me watch you go inside.”

“Okay.” She searches through her purse and pulls out her keys, holding them in the air and jingling them in front of me.

Serena

I close the door behind me and lean against it, fighting the urge to run after Gray. It feels all kinds of wrong to say good night and go our separate ways.

After a few seconds, I peek out the window, watching his truck pull away from the curb.

I sigh. My eyelids feel heavy. It’s been a long day and I’m dragging. I kick off my shoes and bend over to pick them up, carrying them with me.

Light flickers in the living room and I spot Emily on the couch with her laptop. Only a low murmur comes from the television.

“Hey, Em.”

She jumps and pulls out her earbuds.

“Oops, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She waves for me to come closer. “How was your date?”

“Nice.” I drop onto the couch next to her. “Really nice. You weren’t waiting up for me, were you?”

“No.” She closes her laptop and sets it on the coffee table. “I can never sleep so I come down here and get some work done, you know?”

“Makes sense.” I yawn and stretch. “I’m going to head upstairs. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“Good night.”

Chapter Twelve

Grinder

I’m not looking forward to meeting with Grillo today. It’s gonna be hard to keep my mouth shut and not tip him off that I know about him working with Big Chief.

I step into the raggedy, dark office and cast a glance around the waiting area. Fellow parolees with their heads down, anxiously waiting to be called in for their piss test and game of twenty questions.

One guy looks up and nods at me. I return the gesture and keep walking to the bulletproof glass window.

“Grayson Lock, here for my ten a.m. with Grillo.” Ten in the morning, during the week. The most inconvenient time for anyone trying to adhere to the conditions of parole by holding down a job. Just what employers want to hear. “Hey boss, I gotta take off in the middle of the morning to go meet my parole officer. No idea when I’ll be back. That cool? Thanks.” It’s like the system was designed to keep criminals from ever advancing into productive members of society.

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