He pulls open the door and a delicious smell greets me. “You’re here.” He speaks eagerly, eyes alight with excitement. Lincoln looks both left and right before he ushers me into the house.
“Trying to keep me a secret from everyone?” I wink when I whisper it, but his face contorts at my suggestion.
Lincoln surveys my outfit. “Black ops?”
“Seems the trend.” I look around and it’s surprisingly homey. He takes my jacket and hangs it on the rack in the entryway. I’m trying to keep my pulse in check as I hang my purse over it, then my hat. An easy task when I’m turned away from him. “I like your place.”
“Thanks,” he mutters. “Do you want anything to drink?”
I shake my head. “It’s not really what I expected,” I add.
He leads me to the kitchen, peering down the hall to the bedrooms as we cross it. “What did you expect?”
“More of a bachelor pad, but I guess your mom probably helped decorate it.”
Lincoln doesn’t like that suggestion. “It’s not about me. It’s about him. Bachelor décor isn’t my thing, nor would it be good for Turner.” There are family photos everywhere. A huge one of him holding Turner on the top of a craggy mountain. Their smiles are beaming, and a pang zings through my chest.
“I know what I’m asking isn’t easy.”
He presses his lips together and narrows his eyes at me. “What are you asking for? Exactly.”
“To give me everything without giving me anything at all.”
He looks away. “Maeve, I’ll give you anything you want.” Then he meets my gaze. “As long as it doesn’t affect Turner.” His tone holds authority and it turns me on.
“It won’t. I promise.”
“You shouldn’t make promises.”
I exhale noisily. “I usually don’t. I usually don’t do a lot of things I seem to do around you.”
He rounds the counter, his saunter powerful. When he lightly grabs my chin and pecks my lips sweetly, the juxtaposition melts me into a puddle. “Our voices might carry out here. My bedroom is on the other side of the house. Let’s take this over that way.”
“No house tour?” I jest.
“I’ll give you a tour if you can be quiet.” He grins. “Like Black Ops quiet.”
I match his smile and nod. “Lead on.”
He shows me the deck off the back of the house. It faces the mountain range and has open space in front of it. It’s a stunning, unobstructed view that takes my breath away. The neighbors don’t have balconies on the back, so it’s mostly private, save for their back yards. Lincoln’s back yard has soccer goals, an elaborate jungle gym with two swings, and a slide. It resembles a pirate’s ship, with a tall mast that is almost as tall as the second-story balcony we’re standing on. I’ve never felt like more of an intruder than now. I’m inside a safe world that Lincoln has created for Turner. I’m not here to contribute to it. I’m here to take. I close my eyes and try to spin this another way.
Lincoln leans his elbows on the wooden railing and tips his head down. What is this costing him? My selfish requests. He is the one who invited me here, though. There has to be a part of him that wants me if it’s come this far.
Because I didn’t give him an option.
When he raises his head, I can see the confusion in his gaze as he nods toward the house. We continue the silent tour, and I take off my boots so I can tiptoe down the hall where Turner’s bedroom is. Lincoln walks into his room, and I peek around the corner as he brings the covers up to his chin and brushes hair out of his eyes. He kisses him softly and rejoins me. The room has built LEGO sets lining one wall on a cabinet and a box of toys in the corner with a remote control boat sitting on top. It’s tidy for a kid’s room.
He shows me the guest room that most certainly was his mom’s room, and a small spare room that has a desk and bookshelves that hold children’s books. There’s a child-sized recliner and a floor light in the corner. A shared space for sure. I smile as I imagine Turner reading while Lincoln works at his desk. The master bedroom has double doors that are already open. I step in and he closes both of them behind us, locking them.
Sighing, he turns to face me. “We’re far enough away from his room. I don’t think he’ll be able to hear us talk if he wakes up.”
“Why would he hear us talking?”
Half his face pulls into a grin. “Touché.” His voice is low and smooth. “Tell me though, after tonight, what happens next?”
I open my mouth to tell him I don’t know, but close it because he already knows we’re in uncharted territory. “Well, we have an appointment on the books tomorrow, so we act cordial at physical therapy, then whatever we want to happen at night happens.”
“Night then. I get you at night and nothing else?”
Lincoln’s eyes are boring into me. “That seems a practical assumption,” I reply. “Don’t forget it’s double-sided. I’m only getting you at night, too.” I offer a meek grin.
Just like that, the urgency of longing hits, and it’s what drives me now. What I didn’t get on Friday
