Page 11 of Turn My Crank

Relief floods through me, and I take another step closer. "Let's eat some pizza, drink some beer, and just talk. No pressure. If after tonight you still think this is a bad idea, I'll respect that."

She studies my face for a long moment before a small smile curves her lips. "The pizza does smell good."

"It's Sal's. Best in Oak Bluff."

"I know. It's my favorite." She moves past me to open a cabinet, pulling out two plates. "You remembered."

I had. She'd included it in Susie's field trip packet last fall, listing "Sal's pepperoni pizza" as her favorite food in a section of fun facts about herself. I'd filed that information away, not knowing then how important it would become.

We settle at her small kitchen table, pizza and beer between us. The conversation flows easier than I expected, moving from Susie's progress in school to my work at the garage to her journey into teaching after initially wanting to be a marine biologist.

"What changed your mind?" I ask, genuinely curious about everything that makes her who she is.

"I did a summer internship at an aquarium, and while I loved the science part, I realized I enjoyed explaining things to the kids who visited even more." She takes a sip of her beer. "The way their faces light up when they understand something new—it's magic."

I know that look. I've seen it on her face when she talks about her students, including my daughter. It's one of the things that first attracted me to her—her genuine passion for what she does.

"You're a good teacher," I tell her. "Susie adores you."

"She's a wonderful little girl." Lacy's expression softens. "You've done an amazing job with her, especially doing it on your own."

"I've had help. My parents, Anna next door. It takes a village and all that." I pause.

Lacy's hand reaches across the table to cover mine. "I'm sorry."

"It was hard at first," I admit. "But we found our rhythm. Now I can't imagine life any other way."

Her hand is still on mine, warm and soft. I turn my palm up, lacing our fingers together.

"I should probably go," I say, even as my body leans toward her. "Before I do something that crosses another line."

"What if I want you to cross it?" Her voice is barely above a whisper, but it ignites something in me.

I stand, pulling her to her feet and into my arms in one fluid motion. This kiss is different from our first—less tentative, more urgent. Her hands slide up my chest to my shoulders as I back her against the kitchen counter, lifting her to sit on its edge.

"Are you sure about this?" I murmur against her lips, giving her one last chance to send me home.

Instead of answering, she pulls me closer, her legs wrapping around my waist. "I've been sure since that first kiss," she breathes. "I just needed to admit it to myself."

I lift her again, her legs still around me, and she directs me toward her bedroom. We tumble onto her bed, a tangle of limbs and half-removed clothing. Every inch of skin she reveals is a new discovery, and I take my time exploring, learning what makes her sigh, what makes her moan.

When we finally come together, it feels inevitable, like something I've been waiting for without knowing it. We move in perfect sync, and I lose myself in the feeling of her—in the sound of my name on her lips, in the way her body responds to mine.

Afterward, we lie facing each other, her leg thrown over mine, my hand tracing lazy patterns on her back.

"What are we doing?" she asks softly, no regret in her voice, just genuine curiosity.

"I don't know," I answer honestly. "But I'd like to find out."

She smiles, nestling closer. "Me too."

I know there will be complications. We'll have to be discreet until the school year ends. We'll have to navigate introducing herto Susie in this new context. But with her warm and pliant in my arms, those challenges seem distant and manageable.

For now, I'm exactly where I want to be, with a woman I can't get enough of, feeling more alive than I have in years. And judging by the contented sigh that escapes her as she drifts toward sleep, Lacy feels the same way.

epilogue

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