Page 46 of Make Me Yours
When we climbed into the truck, I turned the key before easing back onto the interstate. Several miles rolled by, andneither of us said a thing. The silence wasn’t heavy this time; it just… existed.
Finally, Lilly spoke, her voice softer than usual. “She’s tough, your Monique.”
I smirked, eyes on the road. “Yeah. That’s why I go to her. She doesn’t pull punches.”
“I liked her,” she said. “Didn’t think I would, but… she’s real.”
“She is.”
Another stretch of quiet followed. The headlights caught the shimmer of fog rising above the pavement after a shower, and for the first time in days, I let myself relax into it.
Halfway home, I glanced at Lilly. “You know,” I said casually, “we didn’t get around to one important topic.”
She turned, brow arched. “Oh? What’s that?”
“Baby names.”
Her head snapped toward me, and the look on her face made me laugh out loud. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” I said. “Seems like something we ought to start thinking about.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You really want to go there already?”
“Why not? We’ve got two hours of open road and no one to interrupt.”
She shifted in her seat, pretending to think. “Fine. If it’s a girl… maybe Hope. Because I think we could both use some.”
That hit me right in the chest—simple, perfect. “Hope,” I repeated. “I like that.”
She smiled faintly, eyes still on the horizon. “And if it’s a boy… Ezekiel. For strength. We could call him Zeke.”
I nodded slowly, the names settling into the cab like they belonged there. “Hope and Zeke,” I said quietly. “Strong names.”
She looked over at me, the corners of her mouth lifting. “Guess we could both use a little of that, too.”
“Yeah,” I murmured. “We could.”
Lilly leaned her head against the window, one hand resting over her stomach.
As for me?
I wasn’t running anymore. I was just driving toward us.
Chapter Nineteen
No Secrets Left Between Us
Lilly
By the time we pulled into Lovelace, night had settled over the town like a quiet secret. The streetlights glowed pale gold against the empty sidewalks, and the shopfronts along Main were dark except for the flicker of a TV inside Ropers’ windows.
Sawyer turned into the narrow alley behindBloom & Vine, headlights catching on the faded mural of wildflowers I’d painted my first summer here. The truck idled low as I hopped out, unlocking the side door. Sunny greeted me before I even flicked on the light—tail wagging, nails clicking on the floor.
I grabbed her leash and my car keys, taking one last look at the shop. My safe place. My constant. But tonight, I didn’t want safety.
I wanted Sawyer.
He was waiting beside his truck when I came back out, hands in his pockets, breath ghosting in the cool air. For a moment, wejust looked at each other—two people caught between what was practical and what was inevitable.
