Page 23 of Books and Hookups

She swayed, and I braced her with my body behind hers. “Feels nice,” she murmured.

“I used to do this with my younger siblings when they were sick to their stomachs. You, uh…you sure that red wine was the only thing you drank today?”

Her red-rimmed eyes flew open. “You think I was day-drinking on a workday?”

I winced. “You don’t seem like yourself.”

“I’m definitely not. But I’m not drunk either.” She pumped the soap and washed her hands, then dried them. “I’m going upstairs to lie down.” She looked a second away from passing out.

“I’ll walk you up,” I said.

She pursed her lips. “Okay. Thanks.”

I knew how much thatthankshad cost independent Lucie. Looping an arm around her waist, I slowly guided her out of the restroom to the back hallway that connected to the residents’ rear entrance, then up the stairs.

“Is work going okay?” I asked.

“Work is work, you know?” She squinted up at me.

“I love my work.”

“Even when you cut your hand and have to take care of puking customers?”

I huffed out half a laugh. “Cutting my hand was an accident, but I work at Barb’s because I love taking care of people.”

She glanced at me, then back to the stairs as we continued past the landing to the second floor.

“How’s your book coming along?” I asked.

“Ugh, don’t ask. I started strong, but I’ve kind of lost steam lately. I’ve been feeling uninspired.”

“You’ll find your groove,” I said. “You’re so smart. And driven.”

“Smarts and drive do zero good when I’m exhausted. I need to fucking sleep.”

My stomach clenched. I wouldnotsleep with her out of guilt. She’d hate that. I wouldn’t sleep with her out of a sense of obligation or even a desire to help her. Judging from what she’d said last time, she’d hate that even more.

The only emotion she wanted from me was lust. And although I definitely felt that, I couldn’t follow through. It wasn’t worth it if I was going to feel like shit in the morning. And I would when she kicked me out of bed, expecting me to feel nothing but relief that she wasn’t one of those clingy women who wanted more. So when we stopped in front of her door and she pulled her key from her pocket, I said gruffly, “You going to be okay?”

She brushed my arm off her waist and stood up, pale and straight. “I’ll be fine. Good night, Danny.”

“G’night.” I trudged back downstairs to the bar, my belly still prickling. Goddamn Catholic guilt. Someday I’d move past it and feel proud for standing up for myself.

But not today.

10

There's Nothing Planned About This

What I want to leave behind is three happy, well-adjusted adults who are kind and resilient. The laughter and silly jokes, the scraped knees I kissed better, the bedtime stories, the love I created in this house. That’s what I did.

Savannah Lamb, recipe blogger

LUCIE

Savannah didn’t know it, but we’d assigned a schedule of check-ins with her.

Carly was Mondays, Tessa was Wednesdays, and I was Fridays. We gave her the weekends off because that’s when her kids usually called or went by for a visit, and that always seemed to cheer her up.