Chapter Text
Alright, this marks the first chapter of the extended scenes:
The first time Tim Bradford met Lucy Chen, he was fresh out of the Army, still walking like he was marching, jaw locked, chip on his shoulder big enough to crush anyone who got too close.
He was at a climbing gym of all places, dragged there by a buddy who swore exercise outside of pushups and weights might loosen him up.
Tim didn’t buy it. The place reeked of chalk and sweat, people dangling from ropes like idiots. He was halfway to bailing when someone crashed into him — literally — dropping off the bouldering wall and landing on the padded floor right in front of him.
“Shit! Ow—fuck me!”
Tim raised a brow as the person groaned below him. On the ground, untangling herself from a harness, was a short kid – no, it was actually a short woman, with wild brown hair in a messy bun, sparkling brown eyes with chalk all over her hands, and zero shame in cursing loud enough for the whole gym to hear.
The woman looked up, eyes bright, lips curved into a grin that was way too wide for someone who’d just faceplanted. “Well, hello, tall-dark-and-terrifying. Didn’t mean to fucking drop in on you.”
Tim scowled. “Maybe watch where you’re going.”
She gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, are you scolding me? What are you, my dad?”
“No,” Tim snapped. “Just someone who doesn’t enjoy getting crushed by strangers.”
“Good thing I’m small then,” She shot back, scrambling to her feet and dusting herself off. She stared at his buzz haircut, tense shoulders, and wide stance with a smirk tugging at her lips. “Ex-military?”
Tim stiffened. “What makes you say that?”
“You stand like you’ve got a stick up your ass,” She said sweetly. “And you’re scowling like you want to kill everyone for existing. Total Army vibes.”
Her gaze finally flicked down, giving him a once-over as he shifted slightly, and she noticed his legs were covered in ink. Barely any skin left untouched. Her eyes widened. “Wait… you’re… you’re a hardass Army guy with that many tattoos?!”
Tim flexed his leg slightly, smirking faintly. “Yeah. You don’t think a guy like me can appreciate a little ink?”
Her grin widened, surprise turning into playful awe. “Goddamn it. You’re all intimidating and disciplined…and decorated in mystery ink. I…did not see that coming.”
Against his will, the corner of Tim’s mouth twitched. Just slightly.
She saw it, eyes widening in triumph. “Oh my God. Did I just make Sergeant Stone Face smile? Someone give me a fucking medal.”
Tim rolled his eyes, but for the first time in months, he didn’t feel the urge to walk away from a conversation. She was a bit unhinged, but for some strange reason, he kind of liked it.
So, he extended a hand. “Tim. Tim Bradford.”
She shook it firmly, chalk still clinging to her skin. “Lucy. Lucy Chen.”
“Figures,” he muttered. Of course, the short spitfire would have a sunshine name, but a potty mouth.
“What the hell does that mean, Tim?” she demanded.
He only smirked, and Lucy laughed — too loud, too bright — like she’d just decided she liked the sound of his name on her tongue.
xxx
Later that week, Tim’s buddy dragged him out to a bar. Apparently, staying inside his apartment was no way to spend his new bullet-free freedom. The day was already shitty, and of course, it got better? Worse? He had yet to decide.
Because guess who was behind the counter?
Lucy. In a fitted black top, hair loose this time, pouring shots like a pro. She spotted him instantly, grinned like the devil, and leaned over the counter.
“Well, if it isn’t G.I. Joe.”
Tim sighed. “You again.”
“Don’t sound so goddamn excited,” Lucy teased, sliding him a whiskey without asking what he wanted. “On the house.”
He frowned. “I don’t need pity drinks.”
“Good,” she shot back, “cause it’s not pity. I just like your jawline, Tim. Thought I’d help keep it lubricated.”
Tim choked, coughing on the first sip. Lucy cackled, loud enough that his buddy, two stools over, who left him for a blond, looked their way and winked.
By the end of the night, he still didn’t know how she got him to talk — about deployments, about wanting to join the police academy, about how he thought civilians were soft — but she did. And she didn’t flinch once.
“You know what your problem is, Tim?” Lucy said, chin in her hand, eyes dancing.
Tim raised a brow. “Enlighten me, Lucy.”
“You think being an ass keeps people from seeing you. But it doesn’t. You’re still in there, under all that scowl, muscle, and trauma. Someone’s gonna find you out.”
Okay, he will admit, he did leave the bar a little lighter than when he first came in, courtesy of the Lucy effect.
xxx
Two weeks had passed since the climbing gym encounter and the bar, and Tim had tried—mostly in vain—to push thoughts of Lucy out of his head. Work, routines, long runs—anything to keep his mind busy. But her laugh, her mischievous grin, the way she cursed like a storm at every obstacle kept slipping back into his thoughts. She was like a gnat; vinegar and soap didn’t work on her. She was persistently there.
When the same army buddy from the bar decided to have a birthday bash/welcome home party at a private club, Tim attended out of obligation. The place was packed—music pounding, lights strobing, people laughing and spilling drinks. He wasn’t even two minutes inside when he spotted her.
Lucy Chen. In a short black frilly skirt, a midriff crop top, heels that made her legs look endless, and a tray of neon-colored shots balanced expertly over her head. She moved through the crowd like she owned the place, twirling around grabbing hands, and pouring drinks with a grin as she entertained tables.
Tim froze.
How does she always appear exactly when I don’t want her to? he thought, simultaneously frustrated and thrilled.
She spotted him instantly, eyes lighting up with that mischievous glint he’d come to associate with trouble. She weaved her way over, every step precise, heels clicking against the hardwood.
“Tim! Didn’t know you hung out with people who actually have fun,” she called, voice rising over the music.
“I didn’t know you moonlighted as a party magician,” Tim replied dryly, crossing his arms as he studied her.
Lucy gasped dramatically, balancing a shot on the back of one hand. “Excuse you! I’m providing joy, Tim. Pure fucking joy. You should try it sometime.”
He fought the smirk that threatened to break his usual scowl.
Then she did something that made his pulse spike—she leaned over, brushing her hand against his arm, and tilted her head as if reading his thoughts. “You know, for a guy who’s all rigid rules and Army discipline, you’re surprisingly… easily distracted.”
“Distracted by what?” he asked, deliberately neutral, but his eyes betrayed him as they flicked down toward the swell of her breast spilling out of her top.
“By me,” she said flatly, eyes twinkling, lips curved just slightly. She pushed the shot glass toward him. “Try it. On the house.”
Tim shook his head. “I don’t—”
“Don’t argue,” Lucy said, cutting him off. “Consider it my good deed for the night.”
He finally picked it up, tossing it back in one gulp, feeling the burn slide down his throat. She grinned wider. “See? You can have fun.”
Someone yelled her name across the room. She let out a melodramatic sigh, grabbing her tray. Before she walked away, she leaned back toward him, voice low, teasing: “Try not to scowl so hard while I’m gone. You’ll scare the civilians.”
~
About thirty minutes later, Tim found himself seated at the long table near the front, surrounded by his old Army buddies. Laughter and drunken shouts echoed all around as someone lit the candles on a cake. Everyone launched into a rowdy, off-key version of “Happy Birthday” for Kevin.
That’s when the lights shifted. The bass thumped louder. Cheers erupted.
The bottle girls swept out in a line, trays held high, sparklers shooting sparks into the air. They climbed onto the tables with practiced ease, moving in sync with the music. And right there at Kevin’s table—at Tim’s table—Lucy took her place.
Tim’s eyes locked on her instantly. She twirled, hips rolling with the beat, the tiny skirt swishing dangerously. Her grin was wild, untamed, as she hyped up the crowd.
Then came the stunt.
Another girl leaned in, holding a shot glass delicately between her lips. Lucy turned, a wicked smile on her lips, and bent forward. Slowly, teasingly, she slid the glass out of the girl’s mouth with her own, twisting her head until she had it fully. She tipped her chin back, liquor cascading into her throat, swallowing smoothly without spilling a drop.
The table exploded in cheers.
Tim, though, was silent. Staring.
His jaw tightened, heat rushing through him, a very real and very uncomfortable tightness building in his pants. He couldn’t look away—couldn’t do anything except watch her straighten, lick her lips, and grin like she knew exactly what she’d just done to him.
And maybe she did.
Because as the song ended and the bottle girls strutted off the tables, Lucy glanced back at Tim. Their eyes locked. She winked—slow, deliberate, smug.
Tim swallowed hard, shifting in his seat, trying to force himself to breathe normally. His buddies were still cheering, pounding the table, clapping Kevin on the back, oblivious.
But Lucy? She disappeared into the crowd again, leaving Tim with only the image burned into his brain—her mouth, that shot, and the devastating realization that she was under his skin.
Her energy lingered. And Tim’s chest tightened.
He stood there, heart pounding. If I see her again, it has to be fate. And if it is… I’ll ask her out.
As he left the party later, the memory of everything Lucy did that night refused to leave his mind. He ran his hands over his face, frustrated, muttering under his breath, “City’s too damn big for this to keep happening. It has to mean something…”
And for the first time, he admitted it to himself: he wanted more than just these chance encounters. He wanted her.
xxx
A week after the party, Tim hit the sand for his morning run. The ocean air was cool, sharp, and bracing—perfect for clearing his head. But the second he slowed near the lifeguard tower, his focus shattered.
Lucy Chen. Again.
She was perched high in the chair, red one-piece hugging every curve, mirrored sunglasses hiding her eyes, but not the way her mouth tilted in a smug little grin the second she spotted him. A rescue buoy rested across her lap, her posture casual but commanding, like she was queen of the entire shoreline.
Tim stopped, dragging a hand over his face. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
Lucy lifted her whistle and blew, sharp and loud, making a few kids on the beach flinch. Then she pointed directly at him. “Hey, runner boy! No loitering. You’re distracting the lifeguard.”
He shook his head, but couldn’t stop the twitch at the corner of his mouth. “You’re unbelievable.”
Lucy climbed down the ladder with a kind of easy grace that should not have been possible in the sand. When she reached him, she propped the buoy against her hip, the sun catching in her hair, and tilted her head. “You know, for a city as big as LA, we really need to stop bumping into each other like this. Either you’re stalking me, or it's fate.”
“Option three: bad luck,” Tim muttered, though his eyes betrayed him as they flicked over her toned legs and the way that red suit clung to her curves.
Lucy smirked, catching it instantly. “Mm-hmm. Sure. But you keep looking at me like I’m the only subject in your line of sight. Gotta say, I kind of like being the thing that keeps you focused.”
Tim’s jaw clenched, heat crawling up his neck.
Lucy leaned back, grinning at his silence, and gave him a deliberate once-over. “Relax, Serg. You look like you’re about to combust. Go finish your run before I have to rescue you for heatstroke.”
She turned, sauntering back toward her tower, hips swaying with every step. Halfway up the ladder, she glanced over her shoulder and winked, slow and devastating.
Tim let out a long breath, forcing his legs back into motion. His pulse was hammering. His body was way too tight.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. This woman is going to kill me.
And worse—he’d promised himself he’d ask her out if fate threw her in front of him again. She’d been right here, teasing him, damn near burning herself into his memory…and he hadn’t asked.
Not yet. Surely he was going to see her again, if fate had any say in his life.
xxx
The next evening, Tim ducked into the grocery store after a long day at work. He kept his head down, basket in hand, focused on the essentials—protein, vegetables, coffee. Simple, efficient. He wasn’t in the mood for crowds, let alone small talk.
And, of course, there she was.
Lucy Chen stood in the baking aisle, glaring at a bag of flour that had burst open like a small, white volcano. Powder coated her black hoodie, her jeans, and even flecks in her messy bun.
“Goddamn it! Who the fuck double-bags sugar but not flour?!” she yelled, voice sharp enough to make an old lady two aisles over glare at her judgmentally.
Tim stopped dead, hiding a smile behind his hand. How the hell does she keep finding me?
She looked up, catching his gaze, eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “You again? Are you sure you’re not following me, Tim? Trying to get my attention?”
“You’re the one causing a scene,” he replied, keeping his tone neutral, though his eyes traced the curve of her waist and the flare of her hips. Damn it. Focus.
Lucy shook her head, letting some flour puff into the air. “Well, fuck. Guess I’m your entertainment tonight.”
Tim stepped closer, grabbing another bag of flour from the shelf and setting it gently in her basket. “Maybe try not spilling this one.”
Lucy tilted her head, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Wow. Helpful and stern. Careful, Mr. Bradford, you’re ruining your whole grumpy-sergeant image.”
“Someone has to keep you in line,” he said dryly, unsure if he was scolding her or teasing himself.
Lucy’s grin turned wicked, a mischievous glint lighting her eyes. “Oh? And what happens if I step out of line? Are you going to punish me?”
Tim felt his pulse spike, heat rushing through him as his ears burned red, and his cheeks flushed. This woman was going to be the death of him—and what a sweet death it would be.
Lucy laughed—the kind of loud, unrestrained laugh that made heads turn and gave Tim butterflies. “You know, you’re so easy to rile up. Who would’ve thought a few naughty words from a pretty girl could unravel you so easily? I’m glad it’s me who makes you lose composure.”
Tim’s chest tightened at her words. It is a sign. And if it is, I’m done waiting.
Lucy bent to pick up another bag of flour, and Tim caught the curve of her back, his eyes trailing down. He cleared his throat. “So… do you always make a mess in public, or is this reserved for me?”
Lucy shot him a wicked grin over her shoulder. “Depends. Are you gonna clean it up for me, or just stare?”
He smirked. “Tempted to do both.”
“Careful,” she said, stepping closer, letting him catch the faint vanilla scent of her shampoo. “You might actually like me if you keep that up.”
Tim felt heat rush to his face. “I already like you. A lot.”
Lucy raised an eyebrow, impressed, amused, teasing all at once. “Oh, really? Well… I like being the one you focus on. But don’t think that means I’m easy.”
Her words hit him like a jolt, sending adrenaline through his veins. He swallowed hard, pulse spiking, because he wanted that challenge.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she sighed, stepping back. “Work calls. Damn. I’ve got to go…” She left the cart and hurried down the aisle toward the exit.
“Lucy, wait!” Tim shouted after her. He had to ask her out before she left. It had been five times since he’d seen her already, and he couldn’t lose the opportunity to explore something with his favorite shortstack potty mouth. The moment had to be now.
She turned around, walking backwards, a playful glint in her eyes. “I’ll see you soon, Tim… I have a feeling the universe wants us to keep running into each other. Don’t keep me waiting too long.” She winked, blew him a mock kiss, and disappeared.
xxx
Two months had passed since the grocery store where they’d last seen each other. Two months of Tim trying—and failing—to get Lucy out of his head, again. Every laugh, every sly glance, every mischievous curse haunted him.
He had pinned every hope on running into her again, convinced that destiny would intervene. And yet… nothing. Not at the climbing gym, not at the bar, not at the grocery store—she had disappeared. At first, LA felt too big, too sprawling, for this to keep happening. But now? How could someone he kept meeting so spontaneously just vanish from the face of Tim’s earth?
Every night, he dreamt of her. The fullness of her breasts, the curve of her body, and God—the ass on her—screaming for him to roll those cheeks beneath his palms. But what he missed most about her was the teasing. She unraveled him like no other woman he’d ever met. Not Isabel. Not Ashley. Not Rachel. No one could make him lose composure like Lucy, with her curvaceous body and wicked grin.
Lately, he was convinced the universe was playing a cruel joke on him. Either that, or luck had turned against him, removing Lucy from his orbit.
His frustration reached a tipping point that Tuesday morning. Tim was running low on coffee, his only real solace to survive waking up this early. He didn’t even have enough to shock the sleep out of his system. So, naturally, he ducked into the nearest quiet coffee shop, just trying to grab a cup and get out before the day overwhelmed him.
He stepped inside, still grumbling under his breath, and froze.
There she was. Lucy.
She sat perched on a high stool near the window, laptop open, earbuds in, sipping a cappuccino with her usual flair. Her brown hair fell in messy waves around her face, glasses sliding slightly down her nose. She looked… distractingly perfect.
Tim wanted to turn and flee, cursing the universe for finally putting her here when he looked like absolute shit, but something in her gaze—when she looked up and saw him—rooted him to the spot. Her eyes widened in that familiar mix of mischief and triumph, and he couldn’t move.
“Tim Bradford,” she said, her voice carrying just enough for a few patrons to glance up. “You’re late. Or… are you just trying to avoid destiny?”
Tim’s chest tightened as he moved toward her as if pulled by a magnet. “I thought destiny had abandoned me,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone.
Lucy raised a brow, a small smile tugging at her lips. “O ye of little faith,” she teased, her voice warm and playful. “Clearly it hasn’t.”
Sheepishly, he ran a hand through his hair, not meeting her eyes, and muttered, “I honestly thought I wasn’t going to see you again since the last time at the grocery store. I thought I’d been cursed with bad luck.”
Lucy laughed, low and teasing. “Sounds like someone’s been thinking about me for two months straight.”
Tim blinked, stepping closer. “How do you know it’s been two months?” he asked, voice low and smug. “You’d only know that if… you were thinking about me, too.”
Lucy froze for half a heartbeat, cheeks tinting pink. Then she caught herself, pushing the blush away with a sly grin and a roll of her eyes. “Maybe I was. Maybe I just like knowing I’ve been on your mind.”
“You have been,” he stated simply, causing Lucy to blush again at his pure honesty.
“Go out with me tonight. Seven o’clock,” she asked boldly, looking directly into his eyes.
“Wait, no—I was supposed—” he began, but Lucy pressed a finger to his lips, eyes dancing with mischief.
“Aht, aht—you had your five chances,” she replied teasingly, then softened, her voice more serious. “Tim, it’s been two months. We are going on a date. Somehow, the universe keeps bringing us back into each other’s path, and I refuse to ignore it when it has already decided we belong together.”
“We belong together, huh?” he asked just as softly, grabbing her hand in his, rubbing gentle circles across her palm.
“Yeah… if you think you could tame me.” And just like that, his spitfire was back, making his face heat up.
Tim’s chest tightened, heat rising through him as he looked down at her hand in his. He leaned slightly closer, letting his voice drop into a low, seductive tone. “Oh, I think I could do more than just try to tame you…”
Lucy’s eyes widened slightly, the blush returning to her cheeks, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she arched a brow, lips curling into that wicked grin he’d come to crave.
“Is that so?” she teased, leaning forward just enough to make him aware of every curve of her body, the scent of her perfume mingling with the coffee shop’s rich aroma.
Tim smirked, letting his fingers linger along hers, tracing teasing circles. “Yeah,” he said softly, letting the heat in his voice do the talking. “I plan on proving it… tonight, if you let me.”
Lucy laughed, a low, throaty sound, shaking her head in mock exasperation. “Oh, I can’t wait,” she whispered, letting her gaze linger—dangerous and playful all at once.
Tim’s lips twitched, the corners of his mouth lifting into a slow, confident smile. “Good,” he said, letting a little edge creep in. “Because by the end of this date… I think you’ll find out just how much fun being tamed by me can be.”
Lucy gasped dramatically, hand flying to her chest, eyes sparkling, though her smirk betrayed her excitement. “Bold words,” she said, brushing past him toward the counter to pay for her coffee. “I hope you can back them up, Sergeant.”
Tim watched her move, heart hammering, a wicked grin of his own forming. “Oh, don’t worry, Lucy,” he muttered under his breath, voice thick with desire. “I always back up my words.”
“Prove it,” she shot back, leaning forward, her eyes flicking from his to his lips. He felt the ghost of her mouth brush his, just close enough to taste the promise of a kiss, before she hopped down from the stool.
“See you tonight, Tim.”
And with that, she was gone—coffee in one hand, laptop in the other, a spark of mischief in her eyes—but the tension between them hung in the air like a charged current, leaving Tim grinning and hard, already counting down the hours until seven o’clock.
Then it hit him—he had no way to contact her.
“Wait—I didn’t get your number!” he called, his voice carrying loud enough to earn more than a few annoyed stares from the other patrons.
Just like at the grocery store, Lucy whipped around as she walked backward, flashing that grin. “Look down!”
He glanced at the floor and found a small strip of paper with her name, number, and address. Under the address, in parentheses, she’d written: Just in case you lose my number, you know where to find me.
He looked back up sharply, incredulous. “When the hell did you have time to write this?”
Lucy just winked. “Ask Destiny.”
And with a cascade of brown hair and a tinkling laugh, she was gone—leaving Tim clutching the note like it was a lifeline, already certain tonight would change everything.