While I tingled, he didn’t seem to notice the shock and dug straight into the ice cream.
Good to know. My ice cream is more appealing than I am.
Probably was for the best anyway. I only had room for one man in my life and that space was already occupied.
“We missed you at dinner.”
Lincoln hesitated at Eric’s words. They weren’t malicious. They weren’t a reminder of a transgression. My brother simply meant what he’d said.
I imagined for people who weren’t used to that kind of genuineness it was hard to process and accept. And it made it difficult for me to give Lincoln a piece of my mind for standing us—mostly Eric—up. He had a phone and I was pretty sure he knew how to use it. How hard would it have been to send a text? Lincoln should be thanking my brother that I wasn’t chewing him out right about now.
“I apologize. Again.” He let the spoon fall into the container. “I seem to be doing that a lot lately.”
“You’re forgiven,” Eric said, speaking on behalf of both of us. “Oh! I have something for you.” He raced to his bedroom.
“Whatever happened must be bad if you’re on our doorstep needing ice cream.” I leaned forward and put my elbows on the counter, letting some of my irritation with him go.
“I should’ve called.” He scooped a bite into his mouth and savored it when it hit his tongue.
“No. You actually did it right. Ice cream emergencies aren’t phoned in.” I pointed to the nearly empty container. “But I hope you can hold off a few days before you have another one because that’s all we’ve got left, buddy.”
He made a noise I couldn’t figure out what it meant. “And a replacement can’t be bought.”
Ah. Lincoln was used to being able to purchase whatever he needed on a whim.
“Not available in stores.” I found myself smiling because I had something he couldn’t get anywhere else.
“Can you help me, sis?” Eric was breathless as he dragged the canvas into the room.
“Allow me.” Lincoln stood from the barstool.
“No,” Eric said quickly. “You sit so I can show you.”
Albeit in slow motion, Lincoln did as instructed.
I picked up the end of the canvas that was on the carpet.
“Don’t let him see yet,” Eric whispered urgently.
“I won’t.”
We toted it a few steps closer.
“On three,” Eric said. “One. Two. Three.”
We spun, revealing the painting Eric had completed in art class. Lincoln’s expression was back to unfeeling rock as he took in the cabin on a lake scene.
“It’s for you.” Eric lifted up his end a little. “I made it.”
“I can’t accept this.”
When Lincoln finally spoke, Eric’s face fell.
“But I made it for you.”
Lincoln’s expression turned to confused rock. “It’s fantastic.”
Eric perked up again. “I knew you’d like it.”
“It is amazing,” I said brightly, trying to keep my brother from being disappointed when Lincoln rejected him again. “We could hang it right there.” I pointed to an empty space above the old television set.
“No.” Lincoln’s voice was sharp. “It’s a gift. I’m taking the painting.”
I nearly dropped my end of the canvas. Where had insistent rock come from?
“We could deliver it to you in the van. There’s lots of room in there.”
I smiled at Eric’s thoughtfulness as we carefully propped the painting against the sofa.
“Thank you, but I believe I’ll carry it with me this evening.”
Hello, stuffy rock.
Did he talk like that in bed? Not that I cared. I yanked on my ponytail, irritated I’d even thought about that man in the bedroom.
Eric yawned. “I gotta go to sleep. Good night, Lincoln. See you Sunday.” He kissed my cheek and disappeared like a whirlwind.
I stared after my brother, constantly amazed by him.
“You still haven’t finished that?” I pointed to the ice cream.
“I’m taking my time.”
I swallowed hard. With the ice cream, Lexie. Not you.
“Wanna tell me what spurred this ice cream emergency?” I sank onto the sofa, a safe distance from Lincoln and all that energy that seemed to beam from his orbit.
He picked up the carton and joined me. So much for distance.
He didn’t say anything for a long time, and I got that. If he’d have asked me about my bad day, I wouldn’t have wanted to talk about it either.
“He’s talented.”
Something that felt an awful lot like disappointment coursed through me. I’d only asked about his day—well, I didn’t really know what had prompted the question. It wasn’t my business and I didn’t care. At least I didn’t think I did.
Apparently, we were only good enough for ice cream, not opening up with words.
“Incredibly so.” I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them. “He loves the art class. I’m pretty sure he’d go every day if we could.”
“Have you managed to fit in piano lessons?”
I snorted. “We’re barely fitting in eating and sleeping.” I picked at a thread on my sock. “Well, we did eat at a steakhouse. Crazy thing happened though.” I turned my head toward him. “You stood us up and your credit card was declined.”
He set down the ice cream and reached in his back pocket. Frantically, he thumbed through his wallet and pulled out a few bills. “Here. I didn’t intend for you to pay for it.”
I stared at the money with disgust. “And I didn’t mention it to be reimbursed. Besides, Beau paid for the meal.” And you ignored that you didn’t show up, even though Eric already forgave you.
He laid his wallet on the coffee table with the bills on top after I refused again to accept them.
They were a glaring insult. No, Eric and I couldn’t afford a meal at that restaurant. But we weren’t like everything else in Lincoln’s life he could just throw money at and fix it.
I snatched his wallet and stuffed the offensive money back inside.
His brows furrowed.
I held up the soft leather bi-fold. “This might be the most important thing to you. But that”—I pointed to the ice cream—“and that”—then the painting—“and spending time together. Those are the things that count most in our world. Don’t you dare come in this house and try to contaminate that.”
While his face remained like a stone, something sparked and ignited in his dark eyes. He pried the wallet from my fingers and tossed it back on the coffee table. And then the warmth of his hands replaced the leather against my palm.
His gaze always seared, but this time it burned with a fire the likes of which I’d never seen. He tightened his grip on my hand as if I were his anchor.
“Hi.”
His voice was rough like he was using it for the first time.
“Wh-what?”
We were in the middle of one of the most intense moments of my life and the word was a shock.
“You said I never greet you.”
I shifted. All of his energy directed at me was too much.
“Better late than never.” It came out as a half-whisper.
“Still unsatisfactory.”
Every syllable was like a caress even though his words weren’t seductive. But in combination with the intensity of that look, which most definitely was not rock-like, everything he did rattled me to my core.
“It’s not the greeting I’d choose either,” he continued when I didn’t respond.
“No?”
He shook his head. “No.”
Obviously, since he’d never once said hello, but I wasn’t thinking clearly.
“What would you use?”
“This.”
His mouth descended on mine swiftly. And when our lips collided, I splintered apart. The confidence he exuded translated through the kiss.
He knew what he wanted.
He wasn’t afraid to take it.
And I wanted to give it to him.
Every ounce of frustration with him since we’d met poured out as my tongue dueled with his. I hadn’t kissed anyone since high school and it had been nothing like this.
Lincoln was a man.
An aggravating rock of a man.
Who made my entire body buzz by holding my hand and saying a one syllable word. The kiss unleashed a passion I hadn’t known was inside me. Like it was bottled up and buried in a secret place just waiting for Lincoln to uncork it.
I ripped my lips from his, my chest heaving in time with his.
How? How could this man I knew next to nothing about move me in such a way?
He leaned his forehead against mine. Our fingers were still tangled so tightly I wasn’t sure we could unknot them.
A silence enveloped us. The longer it lingered, the more a hint of panic set in. I’d kissed my best friend’s brother. Except that wasn’t just a kiss.
We’d redefined the meaning of the action.
It was a come to Jesus, I hate you, I want you, I need you, I’m drowning, rescue me, I’m here, hi collision.
He pulled back, the blaze in those dark pools as intense as ever. “It’s decided.”
My heart pounded in my ribcage. “What’s that?”
“My version of hello is the best.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lincoln
I still felt her.
Hours later, and it was like an invasion. She’d penetrated the battle line, and I couldn’t fight her off.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d touched a woman.
That was odd for a man, especially one who was frequently propositioned. And as much as I wanted to blame the lack of intimacy as the reason for my acute reaction, that wasn’t the cause.
It was her.
Lexie.
Not the fixed-up perfection version of her. It was the ugliest sweatshirt I’d ever laid eyes on, hair a disaster, mismatched socks version I craved.
Because I doubted anyone ever saw that Lexie.
Through that knowledge, I’d laid claim to it without even realizing I’d done so.
That Lexie belonged to me.
I shoved the file folder away.
No.
I couldn’t be responsible for her. Didn’t want to be.
As if she would ever allow that anyway.
But she’d surrendered something to me in that kiss. What, I didn’t know. I had no experience in these matters, but whatever it was, it felt fragile. Like I needed to hold it with both hands.
Or maybe it was what they had that I craved.
The simplicity.
Lexie wanted nothing I had to offer. I couldn’t buy her happiness, even if all my accounts were restored.
She had something special with her brother. Their experiences held more worth than all my assets combined.
I understood that on some level because of the relationship I had with my siblings.
But for over forty years, it had been ingrained in me that the measure of my worth was dependent on how much I had. That didn’t just disappear.
Lexie made me question if I’d been using the wrong measuring tool all along.
I leaned back in my chair and looked around my home office.
Before my apartment had been at risk, I’d have said it didn’t matter to me. It was a shelter. A place to rest whenever that time might come.
I’d have said the size of my bank accounts weren’t important.
Now that they were frozen and I had the potential to lose what I’d worked to build, I saw that perhaps those things meant more than I’d realized.
Because besides Teague and Beau, they were all I had.
My gaze locked on the painting Eric had given me.
There was something peaceful about the rustic cabin on the lake. The scene eased a piece of me, the one that couldn’t stay away from Lexie and Eric.
He’d given me a gift from the heart. Another thing all my money couldn’t buy. And of all the priceless art hanging on the walls of this apartment, this one held more value than all of them combined.
Irreplaceable.
I inspected the canvas more closely. In the window of the cabin there were three shadows. Only Eric knew their true meaning, but I interpreted them to be the three of us.
That piece inside me shifted again to an odd sensation I couldn’t decipher.
My life had been fairly predictable before I met Lexie and Eric. Since then, it had spiraled into chaos.
I wasn’t sure if they were the cause or if they’d arrived right when I needed them.
You don’t have them.
That kiss said otherwise.
The painting did too.
I tried to recreate the feeling from the previous evening of Eric’s genuine excitement I was at their apartment. Even Lexie’s apparent displeasure was satisfying.
But those moments were unique. The only way to get that high again was to see them.
I was setting a dangerous precedent. There was no room in my life for more people. I wasn’t capable of caring for anyone else. I had too much to be concerned over. It might take months to straighten out the mess I was in.
Prison was still a distinct possibility.
It wasn’t fair to form any kind of relationship with them when I might not even be around at some point in the future. And yet . . .
I removed the painting that hung directly across my desk. It was streaks of red paint on a white canvas. Anyone could have done it. And I’d paid three million dollars for the pleasure of it gracing my wall.
I tossed it aside and carefully lifted Eric’s generous gift. Once it balanced on the hangers, I stepped back, then straightened it.
Perfect.
Whether I wanted more people in my life was irrelevant. What I’d thought was priceless was all that lived here. What I was learning was priceless . . . well, I now realized I wanted that. The other thing I’d realized? I’d just let Lexie and Eric into my most private place.
My home.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lexie
“Good afternoon, Garrison.”
Eric and I swept into the shop loaded down with boxes.
“We’ve got two more in the van,” Eric said.
I’d put off this stop until the next to last this afternoon, still embarrassed from the scene with my father yesterday.
Garrison’s smile was tight as he glanced between my brother and me. “Eric, there are a couple of tins of treats for Grey Paws in the back. Would you mind getting them?”
“Sure.” Eric rounded the counter.
“They’re labeled. And I think they’re on the left near the back.”
“Got it.”
Garrison waited until Eric disappeared. The tight smile vanished. “I’ve wrestled with this decision all night and today. It’s even harder because I like you and Eric.”
My stomach wound into a thousand tiny knots.
“As a businessperson, it’s foolish to even consider, especially since your product is flying off the shelves,” he continued. He tugged on his apron as if uncertain. “While that man was certainly unpleasant . . .” He sighed. “I saw what happened through the window and can’t condone violence of any kind. Lexie, I’m sorry. I won’t be able to carry your dog food any longer.”
Eric burst from the back. “Found them. I can’t wait to give one to Millie.”
“Thank you. I hope she loves them.” Garrison flashed me an apologetic look.
I gripped the counter.
Since the disastrous start of actually crafting the dog food, this was our first major setback. We’d been growing. Garrison’s business had helped bolster us.
I’d booked a piano lesson for Eric with the extra money.
And we’d lost him as a customer and a friend because I couldn’t control my actions.
Because of my father.
As much as I wanted to blame him for this
, my reaction to him was solely my responsibility.
I had done this.
And as much as I wanted to explain to Garrison—to defend my actions—I couldn’t find the words. He was a fair man. If he knew what my father had said about Eric, he’d understand my position.
Instead, I mumbled a thank you, unable to look at him because of the shame that filled me.
I trudged toward the door.
“Wait. We have to get your other boxes,” Eric said.
“Garrison has all he needs,” I returned as I pushed open the door.
The cheery bell jangled, intensifying the blow.
“I ordered them. I’ll take them.”
My instincts were right. Garrison was a fair man.
“That’s okay,” I said sadly. “Grey Paws could use the extra.”
I still couldn’t meet his gaze as the disappointment overtook me. The scene of the crime was a gut punch when we stepped onto the sidewalk. The ugliness flooded back. I regretted Garrison witnessed it, but if given the chance, I’d do it all over again.
I prayed Garrison was the only customer we lost because of our dad. He had a way of tarnishing everything he touched.
“Can I play with Millie for a little while when we get there? Fifteen minutes?”
That innocent face deserved my defense every single time no matter what it cost us.
“How about thirty? If you can sweet-talk Miss Adeline into it.” I unlocked the van and held open the door.
He beamed. “I can do it. She likes me.”
I pulled on his emerald bow tie. “Maybe we can convince her to let us take Millie to the park too.”
“Really?”
“I think we deserve a treat, don’t you?”
I stuffed down the rising disappointment. I had to. For Eric’s sake.
“Definitely.” He perked up. “And maybe Lincoln will be there.”
The feel of that kiss warmed me all over. I’d liked it too much. While my body wanted a repeat, my head flashed warning signals.
Then the vision of him leaving with Eric’s painting firmly in his grasp danced across my brain. That was almost as potent as the kiss. Almost.
As much as I hated to admit it. Part of me agreed with Eric.
Rise: Rise & Fall Duet Book 1 (Shaken 3) Page 13
