Chapter 11 Lucy #2
"Aw, come on, don't be like that." His hands slide lower, and my skin crawls. "Just trying to be neighborly."
I'm about two seconds from introducing his balls to my knee when a familiar voice cuts through the music like a blade through silk.
"Take your hands off her. Now."
The drunk guy spins around, sees Gabriel standing there in civilian clothes, and immediately releases me like I'm on fire. Even without the uniform, Gabriel radiates the kind of authority that makes smart men think twice.
"Just dancing, Sheriff. No harm meant."
"Dance somewhere else." Gabriel's voice could freeze hellfire. "Far away from her."
The guy stumbles off, muttering complaints under his breath that he's smart enough to keep quiet.
Gabriel's eyes find mine, concern replacing the cold command from moments before.
"You okay, Trouble?"
The nickname sends warmth spiraling through me, but I lift my chin anyway. "I had it handled."
"I'm sure you did." His lips quirk slightly, like he's fighting a smile.
"Come on. I'll walk you home."
"I'm fine—"
"Lucy." The gentle but absolutely immovable way he says my name ends the argument before it starts.
I wave goodbye to Emma, who is now talking animately with a group of girls.
Outside, the March air bites through my thin jacket like it's got teeth. Gabriel shrugs out of his leather jacket without a word, draping it over my shoulders before I can protest.
It smells like cedar and leather and something indefinably like him, something that makes me want to bury my face in the collar and breathe deep.
My mind races as we start walking.
Home is a beat-up van parked behind the clinic, and there's no way in hell I'm letting the sheriff see that.
Bad enough he's already suspicious without adding "secretly homeless" to my growing list of red flags.
"I need to check on the animals first," I say when he automatically turns toward the residential streets. "At the clinic. Colt gave me a key for overnight checks."
Our footsteps echo off empty storefronts, the only sound besides the distant hum of bar music fading behind us. I'm hyperaware of everything. The weight of his jacket on my shoulders, how he shortens his stride to match mine, the way streetlights catch the silver threading through his dark hair.
"Emma seems to like you," he says eventually, his voice rougher in the quiet night.
"She talks enough for both of us." I glance sideways at him. "Has some very... enthusiastic opinions about local law enforcement."
Even in the dim light, I catch his grimace. "Emma's got no filter."
"She mentioned something about you helping during hay season. Very... athletically." I'm playing with fire, but the normalcy of flirting, of being just a girl teasing a guy she's attracted to, is intoxicating.
Gabriel stumbles slightly. "Christ. Nothing's sacred in this town."
"Could be worse. She also called you a walking sin wrapped in a badge and good intentions."
"She what?" His voice cracks slightly, and I have to bite my lip to keep from grinning.
"Oh, and something about reading her rights, but I think that's when the conversation went completely off the rails."
We've reached the clinic, and I fumble with the keys, too aware of him standing behind me, of the heat radiating from his body in the cool night.
"And what do you think?" His voice drops lower, rougher, sending shivers that have nothing to do with the cold racing down my spine.
I think you're dangerous in ways that should terrify me.
I think you make me want things I can't have, can't afford to want.
I think if you knew the truth about me, you'd be obligated to turn me in.
"I think you're trouble," I manage to say instead.
"Funny. I was thinking the same about you."
I finally get the door unlocked, but when I turn around, Gabriel's right there, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. The streetlight behind him casts shadows across his face, making him look like something out of a dream or a very dangerous fantasy.
"Lucy." He steps closer, and my back hits the door. "You wreck my judgment. Every damn time I'm around you, every rule I've built my life on goes straight to hell."
"I'm not trying to."
"That's what makes it worse." His hand rises slowly, giving me time to pull away. I don't.
His fingers brush a strand of hair from my face, the touch whisper-soft but devastating.
"I keep telling myself you're too young, you're clearly running from something, I should stay professional..."
"But?"
"But then you look at me like that." His thumb traces my cheekbone, and I'm pretty sure I stop breathing. "Like you see past the badge to whoever's underneath. Like maybe I'm worth the risk."
I can't think. Can't breathe. Can only stare at his mouth, caught somewhere between terror and desperate want, between the urge to run and the need to surrender.
"Gabriel..."
He leans in, and I rise on my toes to meet him halfway—
My phone chirps.
I ignore it, focusing on the heat of his breath against my lips, the way his hand trembles slightly against my cheek.
We're so close I can see the gold flecks in his blue eyes, count the lines around them that speak of too many years carrying too much weight—
Another chirp. Then another.
Gabriel's jaw tightens, but he doesn't pull away. Not yet. "You should check that. Whoever it is seems... persistent."
My hands shake as I pull out my phone, angling it away from him, but he's still so close I can feel his breath on my neck as the messages light up the screen:
Dusty won't settle down. Think he misses his favorite nurse. - B
Can't blame him. - B
Sweet dreams, Sunshine. - B
I watch the exact moment Gabriel reads them over my shoulder. Something shutters behind his eyes, all that warm possibility replaced by cool distance. He steps back like I've burned him, and the March air rushes between us like a physical wall.
"Get some rest, Lucy." His voice is professionally neutral again, that careful sheriff tone that makes my chest ache. "Lock up behind you."
"Gabriel, wait—"
But he's already walking away, hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders rigid with whatever he's not saying. I watch until the shadows swallow him whole, leaving me slumped against the door with his jacket still around my shoulders and the phantom heat of his almost-kiss burning on my lips.
Inside the clinic, I move through the routine of checking on the overnight patients like a woman sleepwalking. The animals watch me with trusting eyes, these simple creatures who don't know what it's like to want things that could destroy you.
I sink onto the floor outside the recovery kennels, and Bear whines softly. I slip my fingers through the bars to stroke his nose, needing the comfort of something uncomplicated.
"What am I doing, boy?"
Three men. Each one calling to different broken parts of me.
Gabriel with his steady strength that makes me feel protected instead of trapped.
Colt with his matching damage and eyes that understand.
Beau with his quiet intensity and texts that make my heart do stupid, fluttering things.
And now I know that Colt and Beau once loved someone together. Shared her.
The thought should scandalize me. Instead, it sends heat spiraling through my core like liquid fire.
What would it be like, being precious enough to share? Being held between them, loved by both, never having to choose because choosing would mean losing part of myself?
I press my palms against my eyes. Six weeks until I turn twenty-one. Six weeks to stay hidden, stay safe, stay sane.
But as I sit in the quiet clinic, wrapped in Gabriel's jacket with Beau's texts on my phone and the memory of Colt's broken smile haunting me, I know I'm already lost.
Tomorrow, I'll remember the dangers. Tomorrow, I'll rebuild my walls and count down the days and plan my escape.
Tonight, I let myself imagine what it would be like to stay. To be a girl who gets to choose love over survival. To heal alongside three broken men instead of running from my own damage.
It's a dangerous dream.
But tonight, sitting in this small Montana clinic with hope and want burning in my chest, I let myself believe it might be possible.