“You know,” she continued, “I’ve never lived by myself. I went straight from my father’s home to my husband’s home to my brother’s home. I want a place I can call my own. That I can put my own stamp on. That’s mine.”

Arlo reached out and took her hand. “I get that. Truly, I do. But wouldn’t you feel…safer with other people around?”

Tucker knew how important feeling safe had been to Della and how Arlo had moved heaven and earth to give that to her.

“I do feel safe, Arlo.” She slipped her hand on top of his and gave it a squeeze. “And not just here in Credence but wherever I go, and that’s down to you. Knowing you have my back, knowing that Tucker”—she paused briefly but didn’t look at him—“and Drew and Winona and Annie and Mr. Downey and every single person in this town has my back, knowing that it’s my right to feel safe—you did that. You restored my sense of security. That’s why I know I can do this.”

“God, Della…are you really sure?”

“I know it’ll be an adjustment, but…” She slid her hand out of Arlo’s and looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not asking for your permission.”

“I know.” He nodded. “I guess I kinda got used to you leaning on me. I think we all did. I think maybe we’ll always worry about you a little.”

Della stiffened. It wasn’t obvious, but Tucker had been reading Della’s body language for a long time, and he understood her affront at being viewed as an object of collective pity.

“Tucker’s not worried. He thinks it’s a good idea.”

Tucker blinked. Oh. No. She. Didn’t. Just drop him in it like that. Arlo’s laser-like focus sliced toward him, lethal as a lightsaber. “That a fact?” he said.

With his mouth. His eyes said, what the fuck, dude?

Both of them were looking at him with stares that demanded he pick a side. Arlo’s was calling Tucker on their lifelong friendship. Della’s was crystal clear. Do not let me down now.

There was no contest, as far as he was concerned. He might be ticked that she’d put him on the spot, but Tucker was always going to be in Della’s corner.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, dragging his eyes off her to address Arlo. “Della knows what she can and can’t handle.”

Actually, he was pretty sure she had no idea how to handle the proposition she’d put to him tonight—he sure as hell didn’t. But that was a worry for another day.

“See,” Della crowed. Relief and the kind of gratitude that did funny things to his pulse poured off her in waves. “Tuck has faith.”