Chapter 35 Grace
Grace
The ride home was quiet.
Luke drove with both hands on the wheel, steady and focused, the dash lights casting his face in soft blue.
Grace sat in the passenger seat, her body finally starting to come down from the tight, buzzing edge it had been on all night.
In the back, Eli leaned his head against the window, eyes half-closed, breath slow and shallow.
Grace watched Luke drive. The set of his shoulders. The calm confidence in his manner. Solid. Capable. Like nothing tonight had rattled him.
The car slowed as they turned onto her street. The houses were dark, porch lights few and far between, the road quiet and empty. Luke pulled into her driveway and parked, cutting the engine.
Luke stepped out first, circling around to the back of the cruiser, and opening the door for Eli.
Eli climbed out, rolling his shoulder once like he was testing the damage. “I’m good,” he said, catching Grace’s look before she could offer help. “Seriously.”
She nodded, relief loosening something tight in her chest.
Luke jogged ahead, unlocking Grace’s front door and holding it open as Eli passed.
Eli gave a short nod. “Thanks.” Then he went inside.
The door closed softly behind him, leaving just the two of them on the porch.
The night felt suddenly very quiet.
“You okay?” Luke asked.
Grace nodded. She hesitated, then added, “Thank you. For… everything.”
Luke studied her face like he was making sure she meant it. Like he was checking for cracks she hadn’t noticed yet.
“Lock the door when I leave,” he said gently.
She smiled a little. “I will.”
He didn’t move right away.
Neither did she.
Luke stepped closer.
He was going to kiss her. Again. Except this was her porch. Open. Public, even if the street was empty.
Grace’s heart kicked hard.
He reached for her like it was the most natural thing in the world—one hand settling at her hip, the other lifting to her face.
Grace closed her eyes.
He kissed her.
Right there. On her front porch.
Slow and warm. Her hands rose on instinct, sliding up his chest, fisting in the fabric of his jacket. She leaned into him fully, the world narrowing to the press of his mouth, the heat of him.
He’d never kissed her outside before. Never touched her where anyone could see. Never held her like this without walls to hide behind.
God.
This meant things were different. Didn’t it?
It’s dark. That’s why he is risking this. No one’s watching.
The thought was unwelcome.
She pulled back, just enough to end the kiss.
Luke stayed close, forehead resting briefly against hers, breath warm in the cool night air.
“Goodnight, Gracie,” he said softly.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and stepped back.
Grace watched him walk down the steps, watched him get into the police cruiser.
She stood there for a long moment. Her lips tingled. Her heart wouldn’t settle.
Grace turned away, went inside and locked the door.
Only then did she hear his cruiser start, the sound of it pulling away.
She touched her mouth again, slower this time, replaying the feel of Luke’s hands, the certainty of the kiss.
On her porch.
“Wow.”
Grace startled and turned.
Her brother was propped against the arm of the couch, legs stretched out, one arm folded across his ribs. His eyebrow was lifted.
“So,” he said. “Officer Bennett, huh?”
“Don’t,” Grace said immediately.
Eli grinned.
She crossed the room, busying herself with nothing—straightening a pillow that didn’t need it, adjusting the lamp shade. “It’s complicated.”
Eli snorted. “Shocking.”
Grace shot him a look. “It’s nothing. It’s just…casual.”
"Gracie," he said. "That man is head over heels for you.”
She blushed.
“I am sitting three feet from the window,” he said. “Hard not to notice my little sister making out with a cop on her porch.”
Grace groaned and dropped onto the armchair across from him, burying her face in her hands.
“Hey.” Eli shifted, wincing, but his voice stayed easy. “You’ve snagged the town’s golden boy. I’m not judging you. If anything, I’m impressed.”
She peeked at him through her fingers. “Impressed?”
“Yeah,” he said. “He’s hot.”
She laughed despite herself, the sound shaky.
“Okay,” Eli said. “So. How long has this been going on?”
Grace hesitated. Then sighed. “A while.”
“How long is a while?”
“Months.”
Eli leaned back carefully.
Grace swallowed. “He doesn’t want something real. Not with me.”
Eli’s expression changed. The humor faded, replaced by something sharper. Protective. “Why the fuck not?”
She stared at the floor. “He doesn’t want people to know." She looked away, picking at a loose thread on the arm of the chair. “I wanted more,” she said quietly. “But he didn’t.”
Eli’s jaw set.
She let out a small, humorless breath. “So we ended things.”
“And now?” Eli asked.
“And now,” she said slowly, “someone threatened me. And things escalated. And Luke—” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “He took care of me.”
Eli’s brow furrowed.
“He replaced my locks. Walked me to and from work. Made me sleep in his guest room.” She sighed and looked up at Eli then. “So maybe… maybe it’s different now. Maybe—”
She exhaled slowly. She was being stupid. About Luke Bennett. Again.
“But it was dark,” she said. The words came out sounding bitter. “The street was empty. No one could see us.”
Eli was quiet for a moment.
“Full disclosure,” he said. “I am absolutely the wrong person to ask for relationship advice.”
She huffed out her breath, half a laugh, half a sigh. “No kidding.”
He gestured vaguely at himself. “I am hiding from criminals in my little sister’s house, icing my ribs and reassessing every life choice I’ve ever made.”
That earned a real laugh this time, though it came out thin.
She looked away. “I’m done being pathetic about Luke.”
Eli smiled. “Good.” His mouth curved. “Proud of you, Gracie.”
She stood. “Get some sleep.”
“You too.”
She wouldn’t chase him. Not again. Not after she’d asked and been rejected.
Grace lay on her back staring at the ceiling in the dark.
Luke had kissed her.
The first one—inside the house, cut short by Eli—she could explain away. Luke wanting her the way he always had. Wanting her body. Wanting the easy, familiar way she gave herself to him.
That kind of kiss led somewhere. To a bed. To hands and mouths and forgetting.
That kiss made sense.
The porch kiss didn’t.
Grace rolled onto her side and punched the pillow once, hard, then dragged it under her head and pressed her face into it like she could smother the thought.
The porch kiss had been slow. Careful. Almost… tender.
Loving, her traitorous brain supplied.
She groaned softly and flipped onto her other side.
No.
She wasn’t doing this. She wasn’t rewriting history because she wanted something to be true.
Mrs. Bennett’s voice slipped in anyway.
He is absolutely undone over you.
Grace pressed her lips together.
That woman had been so calm. So certain. Like she’d been discussing the weather instead of dismantling Grace’s entire understanding of Luke.
Luke does not rearrange his life for procedure.
Grace squeezed her eyes shut.
Maybe his mother had seen something Grace couldn’t. Or maybe mothers just believed what they wanted to believe about their sons.
Luke Bennett did not do loving. Luke Bennett did not wake up one morning and decide to risk his career and his reputation and the town’s opinions because he suddenly realized she wasn’t the trash he had always considered her.
Luke Bennett fucked. Exceptionally well. With focus and attention and a devastating understanding of her body.
And when she had foolishly thought there could be more, he had been clear.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
She had asked. Plainly. Bravely. Embarrassingly.
He’d rejected her.
He didn’t want to date her. Didn’t want to be seen with her. Didn’t want her on Main Street, at the fall festival with his hand in hers.
He wanted her in private. At his convenience.
That hadn’t changed just because he’d kissed her one time on her porch.
Even if it had felt different.
Even if he had held her like she was something fragile instead of something secret.
Grace exhaled slowly and stared at the wall.
Maybe Luke sent mixed messages.
Or maybe she was just very, very good at finding hope where there was none.
She rolled onto her back again, tugged the blanket higher, and stared at the ceiling until her eyes burned.
He could be protective. He could be kind. He could show up when things were scary.
None of that meant he was willing to choose her.
She had her pride.
She had her boundaries.
And she was done reading too much into this.