Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
LOGAN
My SUV is in the shop. I came out of the gym this morning to find all four tires slashed—clean, deliberate cuts. While things like that do happen, it’s never happened to me, not once. Which makes me wonder.
It could be Preston sending a message. Or it could be just random vandalism.
Either way, I filed a police report, texted Penny, and told Cole and Jack to be extra vigilant.
The gym manager will review any video footage and turn it over to the police if he finds anything.
But I’m not letting it ruin my day. Whoever hoped to rattle me was unsuccessful because today is going to be great.
I’m so excited I can barely stand it.
After a quick workout with the guys, I borrowed Miles’s truck to pick up a present for her.
I’m literally obsessed with this woman. Everything about her makes me happy.
I find myself hanging on every word she says, cataloging the small details she shares about her life, always searching for ways to make things better for her and give her experiences she’s never had.
I want to show her what life can look like when someone actually gives a damn about her happiness.
Today, I’m going to do just that—or at least, I hope I am.
I pull into the garage beneath my condo and retrieve Tessa’s gift from the bed of the truck, setting both bikes carefully next to the elevator.
There’s a sleek mountain bike for me and an adorable pink cruiser for her—a three-wheeled bike with a large wicker basket in the back and colorful tassels hanging from the handlebars.
She’s never ridden a bike, so I figured a three-wheeler was the safest option. Training wheels crossed my mind for about half a second, but this felt better.
I greet Jack, who’s stationed near the elevator. “How’s it going?”
“All’s quiet,” he says with a nod.
“Good.” I catch his expression and grin.
I head up to my condo and find Tessa seated at the kitchen table, bent over her laptop, her honey-blond hair falling forward as she types. Beatrice sleeps soundly on her lap, purring loudly.
The rest of Tessa’s classes are online, and she only has a few more papers to write before she earns her degree. Watching her work like this, all determined and focused, does something to me. I’m just so damn proud of her.
“Hey,” I say, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice. “I have a surprise for us today.”
“Yeah?” She immediately presses save and closes her laptop, eyes lighting up as she turns to face me. “What is it?”
She’s dressed in black leggings and an oversized T-shirt—perfect bike-riding attire, as it turns out. “You’ll see. But you’re gonna want to grab your tennis shoes.”
She gives Beatrice a kiss on the head and sets her on the floor. Beatrice eyes me with disdain as Tessa stands from the chair.
“Sorry, Beatrice. You can snuggle later,” I say to my orange furball.
“Definitely.” Tessa bends, scratching behind the cat’s ears.
She disappears down the hall and returns moments later, lacing up her sneakers. “Okay,” she says, bouncing slightly on her toes. “I’m ready.”
We head down the elevator together, and I can feel the anticipation radiating off her.
The second the elevator doors open and she sees the adorable pink three-wheeled bike, she gasps, her hand flying to her mouth.
“What’s this for?” she asks, her voice high.
“Well, the other day when we were talking, you mentioned you’d never ridden a bike before, and I just couldn’t believe it.
Everyone should get the chance to ride a bike.
” I gesture to the pink cruiser with the tassels.
“And this one—with the three wheels—is really stable, so there’s basically no learning curve at all.
I thought we could take a ride around the park and maybe have a picnic. ”
Her face lights up, and for a second, I think she might cry. “Oh my gosh. You are the sweetest. Yes, that sounds so fun.”
Relief washes through me. “All right. Good. Great.”
I grab the helmet hanging from her handlebars—pink, of course, with little daisies painted on it—and step closer. “Safety first,” I say softly, placing it gently on her head.
She looks up at me as I adjust the straps, her brown eyes warm and bright, and I have to force myself to focus on buckling the chin strap.
I clear my throat and give her helmet a light tap before taking a step back. “There. Perfect.”
“Do I look ridiculous?” she asks.
“You look adorable.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning.
I retrieve the cooler and bag of picnic supplies from the back of the truck—sandwiches, fruit, cookies from the bakery down the street, a bottle of wine—and load them into the wicker basket on her bike.
“Your basket is going to come in handy,” I say.
“It’s so cute,” she says, running her hand over the handlebar tassels. “I love it.”
We head out of the garage on our bikes, Tessa having no trouble at all with the three-wheeler.
I lead the way along the sidewalk, keeping a moderate pace so she can stay right behind me. The park is only a few blocks away. The afternoon sun is warm but not too hot. A light breeze carries the scent of fresh-cut grass.
Once we make it to the park, we ride side by side around the park’s paved path for a while. Every now and then, I glance over at her, and each time, she’s wearing the same wide smile—completely lost in the moment.
Seeing her like this does something to me. It makes me want to give her a thousand more moments like this.
After a while, I spot the perfect place for a picnic beneath a large oak tree, its branches spreading wide to create a canopy of shade.
“Over here,” I call, steering toward it.
She follows, braking carefully as we pull up beside the tree.
“This is perfect,” she says breathlessly, climbing off the bike and looking around.
I pull the picnic supplies from her basket and spread out the blanket I packed, smoothing it across the grass. Tessa sits down cross-legged, still wearing her helmet, and I can’t help but laugh.
“You can take that off now,” I say.
“Oh.” She reaches up and unbuckles it, then pulls it off and sets it carefully beside her. Her hair is staticky and sticking up in places, and she tries to smooth it down.
“Here,” I say, reaching over and gently fixing a piece that’s sticking straight up.
Our eyes meet, and the moment stretches between us. She looks away first, her cheeks flushing pink.
I clear my throat and start unpacking the food, trying to ignore the way my heart hammers in my chest.
Tessa’s eyes widen suddenly, her gaze fixed on something behind me. I glance over my shoulder to see what she’s looking at.
Jack jogs past, about fifty yards away, trying—and mostly failing—to look casual as he positions himself near a cluster of trees with a clear line of sight to us.
“Oh my gosh,” Tessa says, her hand flying to her mouth. “Did Jack just run behind us?”
I turn back to the blanket and continue setting out the food, trying not to laugh. “Yeah,” I say. “I think he did.”
“Oh my gosh, poor guy.” She’s still watching him with genuine concern on her face.
“Don’t worry about him,” I say, unwrapping the sandwiches. “I’m sure he loved it. He’s a fit dude. He loves exercise.”
Her head tilts to the side, skeptical. “I don’t know. He looks tired.”
I glance back. Jack is indeed bent over slightly, hands on his knees, catching his breath. “Well, it is midday in July,” I point out. “And he just ran pretty fast, trying to keep up with our bikes. He’s probably hot.”
She shakes her head slowly, her expression soft with something like guilt. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to him following me everywhere.”
“Well, hopefully it won’t be a forever thing,” I say, setting out the fruit and cheese.
“Yeah.” She nods, but she doesn’t sound convinced. “Hopefully.”
I finish arranging the food and glance up at her. “Have you ever had a picnic before?”
She shakes her head, tucking her legs beneath her. “No. I haven’t, actually.”
“Good.” I hand her a plate, our fingers brushing briefly. “That’s another first for the day.”
She loads her plate with a turkey sandwich, strawberries, grapes, and a few slices of cheese, then lifts her eyes to meet mine.
“You’ve given me a lot of beautiful firsts,” she says softly, her voice catching just slightly.
A quiet, self-conscious laugh follows. “I still don’t know why or how I got so lucky to have someone like you looking out for me. ”
The way she says it—like she doesn’t deserve it—turns my stomach.
“You deserve to have someone looking out for you,” I say firmly. “You’ve always deserved that, Tessa.”
She looks down at her plate, blinking rapidly, and I know if I push it further, she might cry. So I change the subject, taking a bite of my sandwich.
But inevitably—because it’s always there, lurking beneath every good moment—the topic of her case comes up anyway.
“Penny’s still working on it,” I tell her between bites. “But she called this morning. She thinks she has something that will guarantee he stays away.”
“Really?” Tessa asks, hope threading through her voice, making it higher, lighter. “What is it?”
“I don’t know all the details yet. But she seemed confident.” I meet her eyes.
“That would be…” Tessa shakes her head like she can’t quite let herself believe it. “That would be incredible.”
“It will be,” I say. “You’re going to get through this. And then you’re going to live your life exactly how you want to.”
She gives me a small, hopeful smile and takes a bite of a strawberry.
We eat beneath the oak tree, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. I could talk to Tessa for days and never get bored.
When we’re finished, I pack everything back into the wicker basket, and we stretch out on the blanket, full and content.
I extend my arm without thinking, and Tessa settles her head into the crook of it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Her hair smells like vanilla shampoo, and her body is warm against my side.
We stare up at the sky through the wide branches above us, watching white clouds drift lazily overhead. The summer air is warm and steady, carrying the distant sounds of children playing and a dog barking somewhere across the park.
At this moment, I get it.
I understand why my friends all settled down so quickly after finding their person.
This feeling—the ease, the closeness, the quiet certainty that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be—is something I’ll never get enough of.
I turn my head slightly, just enough to look at her profile. Her eyes are closed now, her breathing slow and even, a peaceful expression on her face that I’ve never seen before. Like, for the first time in her life, she feels completely safe.
And I realize, with startling clarity, that I’m in love with her.
Not falling. Not heading in that direction.
Already there.
I’m in love with Tessa Marlowe.