Rise: Rise & Fall Duet Book 1 (Shaken 3)

by Grahame Claire

  “Beau . . .”

  She bolted to her feet. “Maybe it’s better when you don’t share your feelings.”

  Her shoulders were slumped as she hustled to the door.

  Open your mouth. Say something.

  But she was right. It was better to stay silent than hurt her again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lexie

  “Has he texted yet?”

  It had only been a day since Lincoln’s promise to text, and Eric had asked me the question no less than one hundred times.

  There was still a lot of time between now and Sunday. Lincoln hadn’t said exactly when he’d contact us.

  But if he disappointed my brother, I’d personally find him and pluck every hair from his body one at a time. That torture wouldn’t be enough to make him understand how Eric felt.

  Eric was much more forgiving than I was. It was his nature to be kind and bright and forget when others let him down.

  Me? I kept a list. And if Lincoln didn’t do what he said, he’d quickly jump to the top.

  “Not yet.”

  He wasn’t deterred. His smile even brightened. “Maybe we’ll see him at Mrs. Johnson’s building again.”

  I wouldn’t point out that we’d never seen him in all the times we’d been there before so the likelihood was slim. Yesterday, I could’ve made the same observation and it would’ve been irrelevant.

  Because Lincoln seemed to be everywhere we went lately.

  As much as I hoped we’d never run into him again, that would hurt Eric. Though if we kept up these interactions, when they stopped, it would hurt him a lot worse.

  “Are you looking for an empty spot?”

  We crawled down the block. Eric craned his neck to do his part. We passed by the crazy good parking place we’d had a donut break at yesterday. It was filled, probably never to be had again.

  Eric frantically rolled down the window. “Lincoln!”

  Impossible.

  I didn’t want to look, but my eyes drifted to the sidewalk. There in the flesh wearing a stunning grey suit was none other than Mr. Hollingsworth. His strides were long and confident as he moved with grace. A gust of wind tousled his dark hair somehow, making it look better instead of unkempt.

  Half of Eric’s body was out the window. “Lin-co-ln!” He shouted and waved again.

  I had the urge to floor it but didn’t want to risk my brother flying out the window in the process.

  Lincoln’s pace quickened, yet he still seemed unhurried. Like things would be done on his time frame.

  “Eric.”

  I couldn’t see Lincoln any longer because my brother blocked the view. Normally, I would’ve said a prayer of thanks for small mercies, but it only made that rumbly voice more potent.

  How did he exude so much authority just speaking someone’s name?

  Better yet, why did I feel it move something inside me?

  Eric wiggled back into his seat, and I wished he’d stayed put.

  That dark gaze lasered on me. I hated I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed, happy, pissed off.

  Intense.

  Of that much, I was certain. The rest was shielded behind a steel wall.

  “Lexie.”

  My name rolled off his tongue in a way no one had ever spoken it. If I thought I felt something when he greeted Eric, it magnified by a thousand-fold when his voice was directed at me.

  “Mr. Hollingsworth,” I said crisply. “Do you have a honey-bunny you come see every day at this building?”

  Oh, Lexie. You have really stepped in it this time.

  Eric was safely back in the van. I could gun it and disappear forever. Lincoln’s feet might be crushed in the process, but he’d heal. We could tell Cordelle Johnson we don’t deliver in this area any longer.

  If I closed my eyes, was there a chance he’d evaporate?

  His nostrils flared. “Have you delivered to Mrs. Johnson?”

  “What’s a honey-bunny?”

  How was I going to explain that one?

  I’d answer the easy question first. “We’re looking for a parking spot.”

  Lincoln slid the back door open. I twisted around to find him climbing inside.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Take the next right.” The order was dished out brusquely.

  “We have deliveries to make. Don’t you have people you call to cart you around?” I snapped.

  “Like a honey-bunny?” Eric asked.

  If I wasn’t so irritated, I’d laugh. “Yes. Exactly like that.”

  A car horn blared from behind.

  “Take. The. Next. Right.”

  I did get some small satisfaction I’d roused the unflappable Lincoln. I might not have been able to tell what was going on in his head before, but I had a clue now.

  The car behind blew in a long sound as if someone had passed out with their head on the horn.

  “See what you caused,” I said before squealing the tires as I zoomed forward.

  I took the right turn too fast in hopes of tossing Lincoln about. Instead, boxes of dog food shifted and crashed. I dreaded to see the mess I’d made.

  “Slow down. And turn here.”

  I slammed on the brakes, narrowly missing the gate that blocked our path.

  “Here.” Lincoln thrust a white credit card looking thing at me. “Wave it in front of the sensor.”

  I did as instructed and the gate lifted. Once it was clear, I descended the ramp into the underground garage.

  When I glanced in the rearview mirror, the gate was already closing. And it wasn’t one of those arm thingies anyone could get around. This was a floor to ceiling, no-escape metal one.

  At the bottom of the ramp were ten parking spaces. One lone vehicle occupied the garage. Some sort of SUV I’d never seen before.

  “Park there.” Lincoln motioned to the spot closest to the elevator.

  I did as instructed, even though I wanted to disobey just to spite him.

  “This is cool,” Eric said, already halfway out of the van by the time I turned it off.

  “Honey-bunny won’t be too happy about this,” I muttered to myself as I jumped to the concrete floor.

  My heels clicked when I rounded to the other side of the van. Lincoln was out, and Eric peered inside.

  “Hey, sis. How do we know which one is Mrs. Johnson’s?”

  Boxes were topsy-turvy in the back. My temper tantrum was going to cost us time, but hopefully none of our product.

  “We’ll just have to dig it out. Like an Easter egg hunt,” I said with forced brightness.

  “Fun!” Eric leaped into the back and began sorting boxes.

  Heat warmed my back.

  That crazy good scent filled my nose.

  Warm breath hit my ear. “I don’t have a honey-bunny.”

  I shivered and clutched a stray box I’d picked up. When I turned my head, a close-up view of a strong, stubbled jaw greeted me. I hadn’t been this close to a guy since high school. That was a long time ago, and Lincoln was no teenage boy. He was all man.

  I didn't like the way my pulse picked up speed, completely out of my control. He elicited an excitement I’d never felt, that I shouldn’t feel. And as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t stop it.

  “Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t be such an ass,” I whisper-hissed.

  Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

  My phone vibrated against my thigh from the front pocket of my dress. I scrambled for it, accidentally brushing against him in my haste. It was a sensory overload. He was too close, and that touch sent a shot of lightning zipping through me.

  I checked the caller ID and didn’t recognize the number. Being in business for ourselves meant no call went unanswered.

  “Hello.” My voice was breathless, affected. I hated Lincoln heard what he’d caused.

  “Hi, baby doll. Daddy’s out of jail and needs to see you. Now.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lincoln

  Lexie stabbed the end button on he
r phone.

  The color drained from her face, and she swayed on her heels.

  I caught her elbow to steady her. She didn’t seem to notice.

  “Who was that?” Eric glanced up but continued to sort boxes.

  Lexie started. She discreetly switched her phone to silent and dropped it back in her pocket.

  “Wrong number.” Her voice had the slightest tremor that went unnoticed by her brother.

  But I heard it.

  And my need for answers threatened to take over.

  She cleared her throat. “Any luck yet?”

  She set the box in her hands aside and righted another one.

  “No.” He shook a cardboard box. “I think some of our new jars broke.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head. Disappointment carved the lines around her flattened mouth. She’d let her temper take control and it had cost her.

  We’d all done it. I’d just had a lifetime of practice not to let it happen too often.

  She’d been irritated because of me.

  I hooked her chin and tilted her face toward me. “The jars can be replaced.”

  She jerked out of my hold. “Oh yeah? Money doesn’t just fall out of the sky for us.”

  Eric stopped searching, a touch of concern on his face. When Lexie saw his expression, she shaped a semblance of a smile on her lips.

  “I’ll check the back. Maybe it shifted, but you keep looking.”

  That seemed to pacify him. She hustled to the back of the van, and I admired how she wanted to shield her brother from wild fringes of emotion. I respected she knew what she needed to do to get herself back in control.

  I didn’t like her need to.

  “I’m sure you have better things to do than wait for us to get organized.” Aggressively, she righted an overturned stack of boxes. “How do we get out of here?”

  I placed a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened.

  “Who was on the phone?”

  She tossed another box in a different pile. “I said wrong number.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She wheeled around and I prepared to dodge the box she looked ready to hurl at me.

  “I can’t deal with you right now.” She hugged the cardboard to her body as if it were armor. “Thank you for the parking spot. You saved us an hour of looking for one. As you can see, I’ve made a mess of the rest of our day. We have three more stops, it’s almost six o’clock, and we didn’t have lunch.”

  A sheen formed over her jade eyes but she blinked and it was gone. Her honesty—her vulnerability—made me want to fix all of it, which I didn’t understand.

  I’d attempted to help her, she threw a hissy fit, and this disaster was of her own making. Yet I felt responsible.

  You should’ve kept walking.

  Probably. But something about the excitement Eric had called my name with pulled at me. No one was ever thrilled to see me.

  Why would they be?

  Lexie was right. I was an ass. And I liked it that way. That deterred people from bothering me.

  “I didn’t have lunch either.”

  She recoiled as if that were the last thing she’d expected me to say.

  What are you doing?

  I hadn’t eaten because I’d spent the entire day with two lawyers who argued more than most married people. Preparing a defense without a formal charge was a waste of time, but they’d seemed determined to help me.

  I’d taken advantage of avoiding my father. And hopefully placating him for a while to keep him off my back.

  But I’d squandered a day of work. Because of my absence, two deals I’d been working on crumbled, including the property I’d surveyed with Beau. I should be on the phone trying to piece it back together.

  Instead, I picked up a box and showed it to Lexie. She pointed to a small stack to my left and I set it on top.

  What are you doing?

  I distinctly recalled thinking I didn’t want them to see this part of my world. For them to know it existed. Perhaps they weren’t aware it was mine, but I shouldn’t have brought them here.

  Even more bothersome was that I’d acted on impulse. I wasn’t a man who planned out every aspect of my life, but I executed decisions carefully, even snap judgments.

  I didn’t like this woman.

  But I did like her brother.

  I picked up another box. There were very few people I felt that way about.

  Lexie blew at a piece of hair that had fallen in her face. I lifted my hand to brush it away, but stopped myself. I’d touched her too many times already today.

  She didn’t want or need my assistance.

  “Found it!” Eric yelled triumphantly.

  There was a dent in the box and the label was torn. Lexie dug through a small metal chest with three drawers and pulled out a permanent marker and a roll of labels.

  In impeccable penmanship, she wrote Banana, peeled off the label, and handed it to Eric to cover the torn one.

  “Banana?” I straightened the remaining boxes that were out of place.

  “I didn’t name the dog.” Lexie snickered, then whispered, “What if she’d named a child that?”

  She shuddered in mock-horror. Despite the obstacles, she found a way to push through and make a joke. She’d turned herself around quickly. She hadn’t allowed hardship to stop her.

  “It would be a travesty,” I said dryly.

  “You do realize it’s okay to loosen up. Use some slang occasionally.” She closed the rear van doors.

  “I am who I am.”

  In my world, my guard always had to be in place.

  “The strawberry ice cream wasn’t so bad. Maybe I know what I’m speaking about on this subject too.” She smacked her forehead. “You’ve got me being all formal too.”

  We moved to the elevator.

  Eric looked at the wall beside it. “There’s no button.”

  I pressed my thumb into the keypad, and the doors opened.

  “No retinal scan?” Lexie asked as she crossed the threshold.

  “This elevator isn’t like the one in Mrs. Johnson’s building. It has lots of buttons.” Eric searched the spot where the panel of numbers should have been.

  A digital display offered two options. Lobby and PH.

  “Press that one.” I pointed to Lobby.

  Eric touched it, and the elevator ascended. His eyes grew wide. “What’s PH?”

  Mercifully, we stopped and the doors opened to the lobby.

  “This should look familiar.” I held back the doors to allow them out first.

  “We usually come in over there.” Eric motioned to the glass front doors.

  “How do we access the van?” Lexie asked as Eric rushed to push the up button for the other elevator.

  “So eager to escape.” Did she always look for the exit routes, or was it just me she wanted to get away from? “I’ll wait here to see you out.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  Because I make you uncomfortable.

  “I absolutely do.”

  Red crept up her neck, and once again I felt satisfaction at making her squirm. That was a position I was comfortable in.

  She and Eric disappeared into the elevator, and I found myself in the unusual predicament of waiting. I didn’t do that often because it allowed others the upper hand. In business, I dictated the pace. I was never the first to arrive, and I determined when a meeting was over. The control was mine, and it had served me well.

  “Come, Lincoln.”

  I hurried to my father, who stood next to the fireplace in the living room. “Yes, Father.”

  “Have a seat.”

  He took one of the chairs close by, and I sat in the other. My feet didn’t touch the floor, but I sat straight as if they could. As if I were as large as he was.

  “We received a letter from school raising concerns over your persistent tardiness.”

  Uh-oh. Panic tingled the base of my neck. “I—”

 
; Father scowled, and I closed my mouth. He wouldn’t give me a chance to explain.

  “Who do you obey above all else?”

  “You and Mother,” I answered quickly.

  “Very good.” He crossed one leg over the other. “Why are you late to class?”

  “Because you told me to.” I’d done what he’d said. Was I in trouble?

  “Excellent. And why did I instruct you to do that?”

  I wiggled under his stare. Then I forced myself to be still.

  “Because the world waits on me. I don’t wait on it.”

  There wasn’t a smile, but something on my father’s face said I’d pleased him. “That’s right. Do they start the class before you arrive?”

  “No, sir. Not now.” After only a couple of days of being a few minutes late, the teacher had begun to wait to start the lessons.

  “That’s my boy.”

  I usually tried to stay out of my father’s way, but I liked this kind of attention. I’d done good.

  “Where’s Mother?”

  “Getting dressed for dinner.” He leaned forward. “She’s the only person you ever wait for. Do you understand?”

  I nodded.

  “When she tells you a time to meet, always be twenty minutes early. Don’t forget. Not even when you’re my age.”

  I nodded again. I really wanted to know why, but I didn’t dare question Father.

  He stared at me, and I tried to stay still. The pleased look came back. I puffed out my chest but didn’t have the courage to ask why Mother was different.

  “Because she’s special.”

  And so was Father. He could read my mind.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lexie

  “Lincoln?”

  He stood in the same spot we’d left him ten minutes ago in the lobby of Mrs. Johnson’s building. Had he moved?

  It was hard to tell, but he was so still, he could’ve been a statue. One of those that everyone stopped to admire.

  Get a grip, Lexie.

  I’d blame my inability to think straight on my hunger, which had taken an abrupt turn to if I don’t eat something soon, I’m going to be a grumpy pants.