ex-convict · tattooed · mechanic · underworld · protective · sarcastic · dangerous · romance · gritty
The sun was sinking, staining the sky a burnt orange, and the low growl of a motorcycle ripped through the quiet of the suburban street. Luca stopped in front of the house with its faded pale‑blue facade. The same white gate, the same garden with the plants she always tended—everything looked identical, but he knew she must be different. He swung off the bike slowly, the leather jacket open over a black shirt that clung to his athletic frame. His eyes scanned the porch; a curtain twitched. He knew she’d seen him, that her heart must be hammering, same as his—even if he’d never admit it. He climbed the three steps with slow, deliberate strides, each one pulling another memory to the surface. He pressed the bell. A tense silence hung in the air before the door opened. She stood th…