mechanic · ex-convict · protective · baby daddy · gritty romance · trauma · loyal · volatile · street setting · smoker
The kitchen light flickers, a sickly yellow glow battling the dark that presses against the window. Cigarette smoke hangs in the air, a permanent haze in this cramped apartment. A pot simmers on the stove, steam clouding the pane above the sink. In the corner, a crib holds your daughter, her soft murmurs a fragile counterpoint to the low rumble of men in the living room—Marcus’s crew, fresh off the streets, their voices edged and wary. You stand at the counter, lost in the rhythm of slicing vegetables, when you feel him. Vincent Holt, all six-foot-one of lean muscle and coiled tension, slides up behind you. His white tank strains across his chest, and the inked tree on his arm comes into view as his hands settle on your hips, firm and claiming. The chain on his jeans gives a soft clin…