Page 13 of IOU

And that’s why his nickname is Boss.

I let a smirk stretch out over my face as Tucker slowly backs away with his hands up. Bostic’s growl is pretty freaking scary.

“Do not come near her ever again,” he threatens, looking from Tucker to Taylor. “Either of you.”

They both nod but it’s forced. They don’t want to piss off the big man, but they haven’t finished saying all they need to say to me, and that’s fine. I sure as shit have more I would like to say to them, but I won’t. Not now. Because whatever I did to deserve Bostic’s help at this moment, I’d like to keep it. And him, because he’s just amazing.

Without another word, Bostic turns and heads out the front door. I follow dutifully but not before placing my hand behind my back and flipping off the two love birds. Screw them.

“You can shower at the fire station,” says Bostic, descending the stairs with a hundred-pound suitcase hanging from his fist.

“Are we eating breakfast there too?”

He pauses when we reach the bottom of the stairs. “Yes. Is that okay?”

Uh, yeah, it’s okay—more than okay actually. I’m starving.

And okay, for those of you who are skeptical, I know all the talks about stranger danger, and I don’t plan on getting a ride in Bostic’s truck, no matter how helpful he’s been. But the fire station can’t be that bad, right? I mean, they do background checks on these guys. If there was any place I could shower and get some breakfast, the fire station should be on the list as being safe. I figure if the law allows you to leave your baby there, then they have to be good guys, right?

“Yep. That sounds good to me. I’ll even wash dishes as payment for letting me squat for the morning.” I’m not a taker. I’ll do my fair share.

“That won’t be necessary.”

I shrug when he starts walking again. “The offer stands should you change your mind,” I call out to his back.

Bostic shakes his head like he isn’t sure what to do with me. And that’s fine. Most people aren’t. I’ve grown accustomed to it.

“Come on.” He tosses my bag in the truck. “Do you know how to get to the station?”

“Nope.” GPS could probably help, but there are several fire stations around here. What if I pick the wrong one? I doubt they have the station numbers listed on the map.

Bostic rubs his forehead like a headache is brewing. “Follow me then.”

I can do that. “Yes, sir.”

I’m betting he regrets offering me anything at this point. And while I’m still in a state of shock, I realize that maybe my eccentric personality could have been part of the issue between Tucker and me. Tucker is calm. Reserved. Well-bred, so to speak. Not that I’m not well-bred, but I can’t tell you who is a pro golfer and what charity my mom donates to every year. Tucker is exceptionally well-rounded. That’s it. Well-rounded. And well, I’m not.

An ache in my chest knots up under my underwire. Today is a new day, though. Today, I can be anyone I want to be. I can start over. I don’t have to worry about impressing anyone or worrying if they like me or not.

I simply don’t answer to anyone anymore.

It’s a freeing feeling.

At least I hope it will be a freeing feeling once the ache in my chest wears off.

“Are you coming?” Bostic’s truck is running, and I’ve yet to get into my car.

“Yeah, I’m coming.” Because I’m free and Tucker doesn’t get to tell me if this is an awful decision.

“These are the best-scrambled eggs I’ve ever had,” I mumble between chews.

The chef of the morning, Kyle, grins, finally sitting down at the eight-person table.

I’ve already showered, and I’ve had two cups of coffee. I feel almost human again.

“Thank you. It’s an old family recipe,” he returns.

Chokes and thinly veiled snickers echo around the table.

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