Eye Candy

Tessa sniffles and lets me carry her the rest of the way. She doesn’t fight it. Her hand slides around my neck as she presses her face against the underside of my jaw. Her tears, wet and warm, soak into my skin.

“Shh,” I whisper against her hair.

We pass the freak with the bottle. The zombies. The bodies wrapped and bleeding through the white sheets.

Nothing stops me. Nothing turns my head or pauses my steps. I’m focused on her and getting us out of here.

I don’t give a shit about any of this.

We get to the parking lot and reach my truck in the far back corner.

I manage to open the passenger side door without putting her down and climb in, keeping Tessa in my arms and sitting her on my lap. There’s no point separating and getting in on the driver’s side. I’m not going anywhere and risking a wreck, knowing full well where my attention is going to stay. And we sure as hell are not having this conversation without my hands on her. I’d go fucking crazy and cause a wreck myself just so I could pull her into my arms.

I close the door and slide Tessa’s legs closer to my hip so she’s facing me more, her weight sitting on my knees and her back against the dash. The silence in the truck is heavy around us and thick in the air. I can’t stand it.

And there’s not a damn thing she needs to say right now. This is all me.

“Good or bad, if this works out or if it doesn’t, tell me you know—I’m not going anywhere.” I pause, meeting her eyes when she lifts them off my shirt.

She blinks.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “Tell me I’ve done my fuckin’ job as your man, Tessa, and made sure you aren’t doubting that. ’Cause if I haven’t and that’s what’s got you stuck in your head thinkin’ the worst the way you’re doing right fuckin’ now, the way I’ve watched you do the past five months, my life might as well end right here, ’cause I don’t deserve shit. Not you. Not anything more than this. Nothing.”

“Luke,” she whispers, lips trembling as those damn tears well up in her eyes again.

“I’m a fuckin’ asshole,” I continue on. “I know what I am. I know what I’ve done and all the bad I got coming to me. I haven’t exactly been a model son. More times than I can count, I’ve been a worthless friend. I’m basically a prick to everyone. And landing you? Fuck, that was . . . I don’t know. Crazy fuckin’ luck, or maybe the universe cutting me a break for once in my goddamned life. I’ve been shit on a lot, but that doesn’t mean I’m worth dick. I know that. And the good you give me, babe? The good I feel every fuckin’ day knowing I’m attached to you is more good than I ever fuckin’ deserve to feel. I know it is. I’m not stupid. Honest to God, I basically walk around waiting for you to figure it out and question what the fuck you’re even doing with me. So you gotta know, Tessa, if this is it? If we can’t have a kid for whatever reason and it’s just me and you for the rest of our lives? I’m good. Babe, I am so fuckin’ good. I might not walk around grinning like a fuckin’ idiot every second of the day like Reed does, or get that stupid, fuckin’ dopey look on my face like Ben when he talks about Mia, but I’m right there. I’m just as fucked over you, and nothing’s ever changing that. Kid or no kid. Ask me.”

Tessa goes to wipe the tears from her cheeks but I do it for her, then keep my hands on either side of her face, pulling her in so our foreheads are touching.

“Ask me,” I say again, watching her mouth twitch. “I don’t need anything else. I swear to God, I don’t.”

“But you want kids,” she whispers.

“I want you. Everything else is just bonus.”

Tessa breathes deep, her hands sliding up my chest to my neck and holding there. “Mia thinks I’m stressing out too much, and that’s why I haven’t gotten pregnant yet.”

“She might be right.”

Makes sense. Not that I’m a fucking expert on it or anything, but I know what stress can do to a person. I know it can make you sick.

I watched it happen to my dad after my mom died.

“I don’t know,” Tessa says, moving her fingers back and forth on my neck. “I worry it isn’t. And I can’t get that worry out of my head. I want to give you this so bad, Luke, and I might not be able to. I don’t know if I can handle that.”

“So know I can handle it, and focus only on that,” I say, watching the way her lips press together. “I’m serious. If you think I haven’t thought about every fuckin’ way this could play out, Tessa, you’re wrong. I’m ready. If we can’t do this on our own and end up seeking help from some doctor, and still, nothing? I can handle it. If we look into adopting and that shit doesn’t pan out? Fine. I told you, I’ll be good no matter what happens.”

“Why wouldn’t adopting pan out for us?” she asks, sounding confused as she leans back to see me better.

My brows raise. “Don’t you gotta be interviewed for shit like that?”

“I don’t know. I guess.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, babe, but we’re both assholes. It’s why we fuckin’ work. And I’m betting whoever is interviewing us is gonna figure that out real quick and shut that shit down, labeling us unsuitable or whatever the fuck. No way is anyone willingly giving us a kid once they meet us. I can’t act nice. And you basically hate everyone.”

A low, sweet laugh pushes past Tessa’s lips.

I drop my head against the seat, smiling for the first time in what feels like days, my limbs lighter now and that weight shifting off my chest. “So yeah, worst-case scenario, like I said, I’m good,” I tell her, dropping my hands to her hips. “Know that, and don’t ever forget it. I will always be good with just this. Okay?”

Her shoulders drop on an exhale, and she nods her head. “Okay.”

“Quit stressing.”

“Quit thinking you don’t deserve the world, Luke, because you do.”

I cock my head.

She cocks hers, brows lifting in challenge.

“Christ. Is this gonna be an argument?” I ask.

“No. Not unless you agree. You deserve my good. You always will, even when you’re being the world’s biggest prick, which is like, most weekdays and every major holiday.”

I close my eyes on a heavy exhale, feeling Tessa’s lips press against mine.

“I want to give you that, Luke—all the good in the world. I want you to have it.”

Hands gripping her ass, I slide her closer and nip at her lip. “I do. I got it all.”

She growls, deep in her throat. “Quit being so fucking sweet. It confuses me.”

Jerking back, I meet her eyes, and with a raised brow, question, “Is telling you my dick needs to find its way in your mouth right fuckin’ now too sweet for you? ’Cause I can reword it.”

She smiles, wetting her lips. Her hands slip under my thermal and tug at my belt. “Nope. Total asshole move right there.”

“It’s all I know.”

“Lucky for you, it’s all I like.”

She slides off my lap and kneels on the floorboard between my knees.

I push my hands into her hair, head dropping back and mouth falling open when her hot tongue lashes against my skin.

“Fuck,” I groan.

She swallows me whole.

“Lucky for me” is right.





CJ