She might’ve been upset about the self-centered thing if it hadn’t been the first time he’d called her Dixie. “So you do know my first name.”
“I know it. I just think it’s best if I don’t use it.”
“Why?”
His eyes turned dark and intense. “You know why.”
She did know why. Even now her heart thumped in overtime and moist heat settled in her panties. She stepped closer. Using just one finger, she gently touched the scar at the top corner of his mouth.
“Using my given name won’t make me want you any more, Lincoln,” she said in a soft whisper. “I already want you too much.”
His long lashes lowered and a sound came from deep in his throat. A sound that was part predatory growl and part needy groan. It was the sexiest sound Dixie had ever heard in her life. When he opened his eyes, he looked like a needy predator. “Damn you,” he said before he jerked her into his arms and kissed her.
It was a rough, desperate kiss. His lips demanded with hot slides as his tongue invaded with deep thrusts like he wanted to hungrily eat her up until she was completely consumed. She felt consumed. She felt like she was no longer herself. She was Lincoln’s. All Lincoln’s.
As he kissed her, his large hands roamed over her body—stroking her hair, cupping her breasts, spanning her waist, and finally palming her butt cheeks and lifting her completely off the ground. The feel of his hard erection pressing against the fly of her jeans had her making the growling-groaning sound he’d made earlier. With their lips still locked, they both reached for his belt buckle at the same time. But before they could get it undone, Dixie’s phone started playing “Southern Girl” by Tim McGraw—her mama’s ringtone.
“Ignore it,” she muttered against his lips as she continued to unbuckle his belt.
He grabbed her hands and stopped them as he pulled away from the kiss. “No.” With one steamy dark-eyed look, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there feeling deprived and madder than a hornet about her mother’s bad timing.
She pulled her phone from the holder and answered. “What, Mama!”
“Is that anyway to talk to your mother, Dixie Leigh Meriwether? A mother who went through sixteen hours of grueling labor to bring you into this world?”
“Sorry.” She glanced at Lincoln, who was standing at the edge of the spring with his back to her and his hands on his hips. “I was just busy.”
“You’re busy all the time. We haven’t had a good long conversation since you became a deputy.”
Since coming to Simple, Dixie had avoided talking to her mama. She still called her daily, but she kept their conversations brief. She could lie to her daddy, but lying to her mama was a little more difficult. Her mama had always been able to read her like a book.
She turned and walked along a path that ran next to the springs so Lincoln couldn’t overhear her conversation. “Being a deputy is harder work than I first thought.”
There was a long silence before her mama spoke. “I can imagine it is. Especially when you only decided to do it to beat your daddy.”
Dixie froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mama.”
“Don’t you dare play dumb with me, Dixie Leigh. Did you think for a second that I would believe you had your heart set on being a sheriff?”
That’s exactly what Dixie had thought. She’d thought her acting skills had been good enough to fool even her mama. Obviously, she had been wrong. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because while I hate the way you decided to go about it, I agree with the point you’re trying to make. Your daddy has no business manipulating you into doing what he wants. You’re a grown woman and you need to make your own decisions. And that’s why I’m calling. You won, Baby Girl. Your father has given up trying to force you to follow in his footsteps. He’s going to give you your inheritance and let you choose what you want to do with it.”
Dixie should be elated. She’d won. But all she felt was stunned.
“Dixie Leigh?” Winona said. “Did you hear me?”
“I heard you, Mama. That’s great news.” But even as she said the words, she didn’t feel like it was good news. She felt strange. Like when you unwrap a Christmas present you’ve begged for all year long. Except now that you have it in your hands, you start wondering why you ever wanted it in the first place.
A splash had her glancing over her shoulder. Lincoln was no longer standing on the bank. He surfaced in the middle of the springs, his dark hair dripping and his naked shoulders glistening. She wanted to strip off her clothes and join him. But she knew their heated moment had passed and he would only reject her again. And it was probably for the best. She would be leaving. Soon.
She tried to keep up a conversation with her mama for a few more minutes, but her heart wasn’t in it and she finally made her excuses and hung up. She walked back down the path to wait for Lincoln to finish his Olympic swimming feeling gloomy and depressed. She had never felt gloomy and depressed in her life. As she moved toward the shade of the oak tree, she noticed Lincoln’s wallet lying on the ground. It must’ve fallen out when he’d taken off his pants. It was open and his Texas Ranger star gleamed in the sun.
She’d read somewhere that the oak leaves on the left side of the badge signified strength and the olive branch on the right signified peace. Lincoln was a strong peacekeeper. He was right. Serving and protecting a community was an important job. One she should never have taken lightly.
She started to close the wallet when she saw the curled edge of a photograph tucked into a side pocket. Was
