Page 13 of The Silver Fox Bidder

A thrill rushes through me. “One show,” I agree, even though I already know this is just the beginning.

Because Walk Tankersley won’t be hiding for much longer. It’s time for him to return to the world of the living as the new and improved Tank Walker.

Chapter 9

Tank

Thegalleryisset.

The walls are lined with my work, every brushstroke a piece of my soul laid bare. Color, movement, texture—it’s all there, exposed for the world to see. This isn’t just art. It’sme.

And for the first time in years, I’m letting people in.

It’s everything Lucy envisioned when she convinced me to do this. And yet, standing in the center of the space, my chest tightens with a weight I thought I’d buried long ago.

I shouldn’t be doing this.

The memories come fast and unrelenting. The sting of loss. The sharp, raw grief of losing everything—my first wife, the life I thought we’d have. I remember what it felt like to pour my soulinto my art, only for it to become a wound too painful to keep open. I walked away from it all. Buried myself in the mountains. In solitude. In silence.

And it was safer that way.

Then came Lucy.

She’s too damn bright, too damn alive. She makes me want things I gave up on long ago. But now that the show is happening, now that people are about to step through those doors and judge the deepest parts of me, the fear grips me hard.

It’d be easier to walk away. To disappear back into the woods where no one expects anything of me. Where I don’t have to risk losing again.

Because I don’t do anything halfway. Not art, and certainly not love.

And if I give Lucy my whole heart, there’s no coming back from it.

The problem is, I already have.

She has it.Forever.

“Tank.”

I look up, and there she is—my light, my wildfire.

Lucy walks toward me, wearing a deep green dress that clings in all the right places, her auburn hair in soft waves around her shoulders. But it’s not just how beautiful she is that stops me in my tracks. It’s the way she looks at me—like she knows exactly what’s going on inside my head.

She reaches for my hand, threading her fingers through mine like she’s done it a thousand times before, like she’ll do it a thousand times more.

“You’re thinking about running,” she says quietly.

I exhale sharply. “Yeah.”

She doesn’t scold me, doesn’t try to convince me that my fears are unfounded. Instead, she squeezes my hand. “I know it’s scary. Putting yourself out there.” She lifts her free hand to mycheek, making sure I meet her gaze. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”

My throat tightens. “Lucy—”

“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” she whispers. “I’m all in with you, Tank. I’ll love you no matter what. But I think you need this.”

I study her, this woman who shattered every defense I ever built. She didn’t just drag me out of the shadows; she stood beside me, hand in hand, never forcing, just believing in me.

I pull her against my chest, wrapping my arms around her and burying my face in her hair. “Let’s do this,” I murmur.

She presses her head to my chest, right over my heart, and I feel something inside me settle.

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