I close my eyes, letting his touch be the sensation that overpowers all others.
“Look at me,” he says, stilling until I comply. His lips hover over mine as he whispers, “Congratulations, baby.”
He takes my mouth in a bruising kiss and pumps into me faster. Raking my hands along his back and lifting my hips to meet each thrust, I use my body instead of words to thank him for being here, for seeing something in me that no one else has, and for breaking the rules—whether he realizes he’s breaking them or not.
Lincoln puts on his boxers and jeans while I lie naked in bed watching him. I grab his hand. “Stay.”
I try to fight the yawn, but it’s been a very long day and my body is like putty. “I missed you. Don’t go.”
“I don’t think there’s room in that bed for two of us.” He turns his shirt right side out and puts it on before sitting on the edge of the bed. “I don’t want to, but I have to get up early for work.”
“You can work here.” I motion to my desk, which is currently covered by books and clothes. Luckily, he doesn’t actually look at the place I’m suggesting as his workspace.
“You brought your laptop, right?” I ask, knowing he never goes anywhere without it.
I sit up and wrap my arms around him and he lets me wrestle him flat on his back while he wears an amused grin at my insistence. Lying on top of him, I pull the comforter around us. I don’t expect him to give in, but when I wake up a few hours later, I’m still wrapped tightly in his arms.
28
Lincoln
“I’m not wearing that.”
Keira looks from the button in her outstretched palm to me and back again. “Why not? Everyone else is wearing them.”
When I still don’t make a move to take it, she rolls her eyes and extends the poster board in her other hand to me. “Then you’re holding this.”
The Valley U hockey team takes the ice and the crowd stands and cheers. It’s the last home game of the season—family night.
“It’s a bummer Heath’s family couldn’t make it.” She pins the button with Heath’s face on it to her shirt and an irrational flash of jealousy surges through me.
“I don’t like it.”
“They probably don’t either, but at least you’re here. You’re a pretty good guy, Lincoln Reeves.”
“I meant I don’t like other dudes touching your boobs.” I cover the button with my fingers, so Heath’s cocky smirk isn’t staring at me and also because it’s placed in just the right spot for me to be able to cop a feel.
She bats my hand away. “Look, there he is. Hold up the sign.”
I groan but lift the “Feel the PAYNE” sign Keira made and insisted we bring. If Heath sees me holding this, he’ll never let me live it down.
I’m only slightly relieved when I’m able to sit and put the sign at my feet. We’re touching shoulder to knee in this packed arena, reminding me I haven’t had sex in a week. Before Keira, I went . . . well, way too damn long without. But now, even a day of not being inside her, is a day too many.
For the past month, we’ve alternated driving back and forth between Valley and Scottsdale. Sex, golf, repeat. Life is great.
“He’s really good,” she says, leaning in so I can hear her and putting more of her soft curves against me.
“Mm-hmm.” I slide my hand up her thigh an inch or two.
“Is he really good enough to go pro? He told me he was, but I don’t really know anything about hockey.”
Another inch. “Sure.”
“Hockey players are hot, don’t you agree?”
“Yes.”
“So, what position does Heath play? Quarterback? Outfielder? Point guard?”
“Yeah.” Another inch.
“Lincoln!” She grabs my fingers and twists.
“Ouch. Shit.”
“You aren’t even listening to me.”
“Yeah, I was. Heath’s good, yada yada.”
“I mixed in terminology for three different sports, but you didn’t even notice.”
“I noticed. It wasn’t important.”
Not the right thing to say when she still has my hand in a death grip.
“Ow. Ow.” I pull free. “What I meant was that it wasn’t as important as being here with you.”
“Awww.” Her face softens and then she rolls her eyes.
“I mean it.” I duck my head to press my mouth to hers as I drop my hand back to her upper thigh. “I missed the hell out of you. Touching you, kissing you . . .”
She hums a little needy sound. “You’re vibrating.”
“Damn right I am.”
Her lips curve into a smile. “I meant your pocket.”
She pulls away, taking all her soft, warm awesomeness with her, and stands with the rest of the crowd, which is now screaming, waiting for the puck drop.
My phone keeps vibrating, and I take it out to read through my messages. Nathan thanked me for being at the game and asked me to get a couple shots of Heath playing, Kenton sent a picture of the new ninety-eight-inch television he bought for his place, a couple work-related messages, and one from Lacey.
I wait to open hers last, already knowing what it will say. She’s politely reminded me twice about the storage unit, but I can’t ever seem to find the time to meet up. And okay, fine, I might be avoiding it.
I’m pocketing my phone as Keira takes her seat. Her expression morphs from happy to concern when she sees my scowl.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just something I need to take care of tomorrow.”
“Ominous.”
“I have some stuff in storage I need to get.”
“That’s why your apartment is so bare. Need any help?” she asks, facing forward and following the action on the ice.
“No thanks, I’ve seen your hobo style. It isn’t for me.”
I get a playful glare before she’s back to watching Heath. “Help cleaning out the storage unit, smartass.”
“I thought you were going with your dad to an appointment tomorrow.”
“I am, but I could come up after.”
“How about I clean it out while you’re with your dad so when you get to my place, we can just focus on getting naked?”
Finally, I get her full attention, and she crowds my space. Her eyes go to my lips—girl really likes my lips. She might have more restraint than I do, but I know she feels it too. This crazy chemistry and insatiable sexual desire between us.
Sex with Keira is awesome, obviously, but I’ve had awesome sex before and not been this . . . addicted. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.
“Deal,” she says, pressing her chest (and Heath’s face) into mine.
I pull back suddenly. “Wait, did you say hockey players are hot?”
The next day, I pull up outside of the storage unit and kill the engine. Lacey waves from the open doorway, an apprehensive look on her face.
“Hey,” I say as I approach her. “Good to see you.”
“Yeah, you too.”
Well, this is as awkward as I imagined. Seeing Lacey and the hurt I caused her never gets easier. The girl who used to look at me as if I hung the moon, can now barely stand to look at me.
Maybe we were always doomed to fail. We married young without really talking about what kind of life we wanted together. But regardless of the reasons, I feel a deep sense of responsibility for the way it all ended.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get out here.”
“It’s fine.”
“All right. Should we get started?” I’m starting to sweat under my shirt.
“I already grabbed my things.” She nods to her car and the packed back seat and then hands me the keys to our unit. “It’s all yours. Just turn those in at the front desk when you’re done. If no one is there, they have a drop box.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks. Do you need any help unloading? I could follow you.”
“No thank you. I’ve got it,” she says and nods curtly.
She takes a step toward her car and I call after her, “Lace.”
She turns slowly, shoulders tensing as her guard goes up. “Yeah?”
“I really am sorry. For not taking care of this sooner and for . . . everything really.”
She stares at me for a moment as if she’s gauging my sincerity.
“I know that I’ve apologized before, and I don’t know if you believed it then or if you’ll believe it now, but not a day has gone by that I haven’t been sorry for how things ended. You deserved so much more. I hope you find it.”
“Thank you.” A tight smile lifts her lips. Maybe she believes me, maybe she doesn’t. Maybe the wound is too deep for my apology to make a difference either way. I don’t think I’ll ever know the answer, and I guess that’s my punishment. “See you around, Lincoln.”
I force myself to watch her go, waving as she pulls out of sight, and then with a deep breath, I turn toward the storage unit that holds my previous life. One side is empty where Lacey already grabbed her things, and the other contains boxes and colorful tubs, a few pieces of small furniture.
I load it all into my SUV, each item adding weight to the light feeling I walked in here with.
Since Keira came into my life, I’ve allowed myself small, indulgent thoughts. Not about the future exactly, but glimpses of what it might have been like with her instead.
But here, all around me, are the reminders that I can’t change the past or escape the baggage I carry from it. The best I can do is shove it, like these boxes, from one dark corner to another so it doesn’t touch what Keira and I have.
29
Keira
I head up to Lincoln’s the weekend before the sectional qualifier to play a round on the course and attempt to settle my nerves. He answers the door with his phone glued to his ear.
“I hate Friday night traffic,” I mumble.
Smiling as he talks to the person on the phone, he drops a quick kiss on my lips and then takes my bag from me and disappears toward his bedroom with it. He returns a second later, heading across the apartment to his office, talking on the phone the entire time.
I follow along behind him. Exhaustion from the long hours I’ve put in over the past few weeks mixed with excited anticipation makes me too frazzled to do anything else.
Lincoln takes a seat, and I climb onto his lap and wrap myself around him, hugging him tightly and breathing in his clean, familiar scent. We’ve seen each other almost every weekend over the past two months, and each time I miss him more between visits.
As he speaks, his chest vibrates under me. He scoots his chair closer to the desk, puts his phone on speaker, and sets it next to the keyboard. His arms circle around my waist so he can reach his keyboard behind me. I should probably move and let him work, but he doesn’t ask, so I melt into him.
The man on the phone gives Lincoln numbers—stats on total registered members for the website broken down by area of interest. It hits me in a way that it hasn’t before, how massive his company is and how much of a sacrifice he made when he agreed to coach me.
I lift my head and kiss his neck. Goose bumps pebble under my lips, and a thrill runs through me. Lincoln talks on, seemingly unaffected, but those little raised dots give him away.
I kiss my way up to his jaw, and he dips his head to take my lips. I smile into him as our mouths lazily linger and play.
The guy on the phone asks Lincoln a question, and he raises his head to respond. I nuzzle into him again, fully prepared to continue my seduction as soon as he’s off the phone, but I must fall asleep because, the next thing I know, I’m being carried through the dark apartment to his room.
“What time is it?” My voice is raspy.
“After one in the morning.”
“You let me sleep on you that long?”
He chuckles. “I was on the phone for most of it, but yeah. I could get used to working with an adorable sleeping woman on my lap, even if it makes simple things like using a keyboard a challenge. I love a good challenge.” He kisses my forehead. “I’ll be back in a bit. I just need to reply to a few emails.”
Sleep drags me back under before I can protest, and when I wake again, he’s wrapped around me and his breathing is a deep, even rhythm that lulls me back to unconsciousness.
The next morning, Lincoln wakes me holding a banana and a glass of water. He places them on the bedside table. “Rise and shine, gorgeous.”
“Come back to bed.” I reach out and take his hand and try to tug him down beside me. He doesn’t budge.
“Can’t. I need to stop by Gram’s before we head to the course.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, she’s just being stubborn and threatening to climb a ladder and pull down her boxes of Easter decorations on her own.” He uses my hand to pull me upright. “It won’t take long. Hopefully.”
Truth be told, I don’t mind at all. I adore his grandmother.
We’ve barely walked in the door when Milly pulls me against her soft, pillowy chest. “Keira, it’s so good to see you again, dear.” She smells of flowers and hairspray, and her embrace is so warm and loving that I instantly feel at ease around her.
She shows Lincoln and me to the garage and points to the boxes that contain Easter and spring decorations and then announces her plan to make us breakfast.
“We already ate, Gram.”
She waves him off and disappears inside.
“That woman.” Lincoln shakes his head. He grabs a ladder and moves boxes from the shelving along one side of the garage.
“She’s amazing.”
“I think she’s a fan of yours as well.”
“I think she’d be a fan of any woman you brought around.”
“Humph.”
“Still no more blind dates?”
“Not yet.” He hands me a box labeled “Spring Wreaths.”
I take it inside to the living room and return to the garage to find he’s pulled four more boxes with varying season-related labels: Easter Bunnies. Easter Plates. Spring Outdoor Decorations. Easter Baskets.
We take them all inside to the living room and then Gram calls us into the kitchen, filling our plates with eggs, turkey bacon, and toast before setting a bowl of fruit between us.
“Thank you.”
She smiles lovingly between us. “Lincoln tells me you’re doing the sectional qualifier.”
“I am.” I swallow a bite of eggs, but the reminder of the qualifier has my food settling like a brick in my stomach.
Lincoln lightly nudges my shoe with his under the table. “She’s gonna do great.”
His confidence in me helps a little, and I take a few more forkfuls of egg and a nibble of toast before I politely push it away. “That was delicious, but my stomach is too tied up in knots for me to eat another bite. I’m sorry.”
Lincoln’s grandmother doesn’t miss a beat. She takes the plate in one hand and runs her free hand from the top of my head down my hair. “If Lincoln says you’re ready, then you are. He isn’t much of a bullshitter.”
I laugh at her cursing, and she grins, pleased that she lightened my mood a bit.
Before we leave, Gram clutches me to her chest again and then reaches for Lincoln
“Thank you.” She cups his face and smiles at me. “Take care of that one and make her eat something later.”
One side of his mouth lifts before he drops a kiss to her cheek. “Will do, Gram.”
“Good luck.” Her arms grip me firmly with a freakish strength despite her age.
“Thank you.”
Lincoln and I drive to the course in silence. I’m mulling over something he said earlier in an attempt to avoid thinking about golf.
“Does Gram know we’re . . .” I wave between us.
He smirks. “Does she know we’re what?”
“Don’t make me say it.”
He chuckles and then shrugs. “Maybe. She hasn’t said anything, and I’m not in the habit of talking to my grandmother about my sex life.”
We pull into the parking lot, and he kills the engine. He jumps out, and I’m slow to follow, while I try to sort through the emotions swirling around me. I can’t help being disappointed even if it’s unjustified. I haven’t told my family about him, so why am I annoyed he hasn’t mentioned it to his grandmother?
I’m still working through my feelings as we grab a large bucket of balls from the pro shop and head over to the driving range. Lincoln sets up his camera to capture my swing, and I stretch.
“Do you think she’ll set you up on more blind dates eventually? It’s been what, two months since the last one?”
“The one you crashed?” He smirks. “Probably. I’m sure there’s someone at the country club she hasn’t hit up for single daughters or granddaughters yet.” He’s all set up and faces me. “Ready?”
“Why don’t you just tell her we’re . . .” I tread carefully. I know he doesn’t want anything serious, but whatever we are is more than fuck buddies. “Dating or hanging out or whatever you want to call it.”
He doesn’t respond at first, and I get my driver and tee up the first ball.
“Trust me, you don’t want her knowing. She’d probably start picking out names for her great grandchildren.”
When I’m silent for too long, he adds. “I’m not ready for that.”
“I know, and I’m not asking for that, but we’re something. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t say something to get her off your back.”
“Is this about me seeing other people? Because I’m not sleeping with anyone else.”
“No, it isn’t that.”
Sweet Spot Page 18
