“Misdeeds? Were you a rebel without a cause, Mr. Carver?”
“Afraid so.” He sighed. “As a teenager I would do anything to get my father’s attention.” He fell silent for a moment. “It always seemed like everything else was more important than me. Long hours at the fire station meant no time for Saturday football games or going to the zoo. Hell, his cars were even more important. I can’t tell you how many times I hated watching him wash and wax his beloved Bessie.”
“Bessie?”
“He named all his cars Bessie.” He chuckled. “I have no idea why.”
She frowned. “What is your relationship with your father like now?”
“Strained, but better. He’s been able to open up over the years. In the end, I think he’s just a man who’d seen too much in his life. Mom said it stemmed back to Vietnam, but he never talks about it. Looking at it now, I’m convinced he did the best he could.”
The snapshot image of his childhood made a strong impression on Peyton. She even felt guilty for having the opposite experience.
“What about you?” he asked.
She closed her eyes. “My parents were great. They never argued in front of us. I never felt they loved one more than the other, but my world was forever shaken when my mother passed away.”
Lincoln’s arm tightened around her shoulder as he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
A dull ache throbbed around her heart, but she lifted her chin and braved a smile. “It’s okay. You know, it’s true what they say about time healing all wounds.” She paused. “The thing that made me angry about her passing was that it was preventable.”
“How—”
“Ovarian cancer,” she said quietly. “See, Mom didn’t believe in doctors. Now, if we got a paper cut, we were rushed to the nearest hospital. But when it came to taking care of herself, she didn’t have the time.” She closed her eyes at the feel of his lips pressed against her forehead and reveled in the security his arms offered.
Oh, yes. He’s a keeper.
“How come you don’t talk about your job that much?” Peyton asked, switching gears. “Most firefighters I know talk of little else.”
“Then I can’t possibly tell you anything you don’t already know.” He chuckled. “Besides—” he tapped his ankle with his cane “—I have to start embracing the idea of embarking on a new career.”
“You still have a lot of options.”
“True. And I’m sure no matter what I decide to do I’ll be great at it.”
Peyton glanced up at him.
“Too much confidence again?”
She smiled. “It’s all right. I’m starting to like it.”
He jiggled his eyebrows in a Groucho Marx fashion. “I’m making progress.”
I’d say. Peyton smiled. Everything was happening too fast and normally she was too much of a cynic to be falling for any of it.
Both fell silent and just enjoyed the sights and sounds around them. Soon, the lights were behind them and her hotel quickly came into view. It was time to say goodbye again.
“You’re pretty close to your siblings, aren’t you?” he asked out of the blue.
“Pretty much. We do tend to get on each other’s nerves every once in a while, but that’s pretty normal.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it is.” He drew a breath. “Have you ever dated a friend of, say, your brother?”
Peyton laughed aloud. “Oh, God, yes. Worst mistake of my life.”
“R-really?” He cleared his throat.
“The first boy I’d ever kissed was in Flex’s Boy Scout troop. I thought it was a magical experience until I’d later learned he told the whole neighborhood that we did more than just kiss. When my brother found out, he made a point to beat the guy up every day after school for, like, a month. Flex had also got expelled, but he got his point across.”
“He’s really protective?”
“Very—even though he’s the baby of the family.”
Lincoln nodded as they walked. “But that was a long time ago.”
“Then there was a time in junior high when I went to the prom with his friend, Tanner Beckham. Except I wasn’t the only one Tanner brought to the prom. He was the first playa who played me.”
He made a face. “Junior high, huh?”
“Then in high school, I met Ricky Garner.”
Lincoln exhaled. “So, basically, it hasn’t worked out for you?”
“That’s putting it mildly. I swore I would never date any friends, coworkers or neighbors of any of my siblings—and let me tell you, that’s a long list.” She glanced up at him as they entered the hotel. “Why do you ask?”
He shrugged. “No reason.”
Their steps slowed as they walked across the spacious lobby to the elevator bay. It was the end of a beautiful day…and quite possibly the end of their time together. It was a little late, but Peyton glanced at his hand in search of a ring. When she didn’t see one or an impression of one, she relaxed—but only a little.
They’d reached her floor all too soon with Peyton grappling with how she was going to morph this budding friendship into something more.
“Well, here we are.” She glanced up at him. “Would you like to come in for a nightcap?” she asked, but as Lincoln drew in a deep breath, she knew his answer.
“How about a rain check?”
She fought off her disappointment and embarrassment with little success. “Sure. That will be fine.” Peyton stepped back to put some distance between them and for her to maintain her composure.
Lincoln, however, stepped forward and continued to dominate her senses. “Have you ever been to Savannah?”
Peyton blinked. “Georgia?”
He nodded. “There is this beautiful place on Tybee Island I go to once a year. It’s where I go for inspiration.” His smile sloped. “It’s not California, but you won’t find any fault with the beach or the laid-back southern living.”
“Is this an invitation?” Her body warmed to the spark of hope.
His eyes lowered to her lips. “I believe it is.”
“When?”
“Next weekend.”
She sucked in a breath. “The wedding.”
He chuckled. “Boy, talk about moving fast.”
“Not us.” Peyton popped him lightly on the arm. “My sister Michael. She’s getting married this July. On top of running a business, I’m sure whatever free time I do have will be devoted to her wedding preparations.”
“Oh, well. If you can’t come, I understand.”
“No,” she decided suddenly. “I want to go. It’ll probably take me a few days to iron out the details, but count me in.”
“Great.” Lincoln edged closer and slid an arm around her waist. “How about a kiss to seal the deal?” Without hesitation, he tilted her chin, met her gaze and leaned in for a kiss.
While her head filled with clouds and her body with butterflies, Peyton tried not to get caught up in the moment. While he wasn’t the first good-looking man she’d gone with, he was the first to ignore her sexual advances. Maybe that was what intrigued her. What woman wouldn’t respond to such a challenge?
It won’t last.
Her body trembled as the kiss deepened, and her arms slid effortlessly around his neck. Even still, the cynic within her remained.
The weekend may have been perfect, but soon, she told herself, this prince would turn into a frog—they always did.
Chapter 17
&nb
sp; For three months, Lincoln occupied his time sculpting, seeking an agent, avoiding Flex and spending long hours in pillow talk with his new lady love. They had taken a couple of romantic trips to Savannah and Las Vegas as well in the past few months. He believed wholeheartedly that Peyton Garner was his soul mate.
“I think you should’ve hit it when you had the chance,” Tyrone commented, as he set out the deck of playing cards and a tray of poker chips.
“Haven’t you heard of ‘too much, too fast’?” Lincoln asked, grabbing a few bottles of beer from the refrigerator. “Besides, this is Flex’s sister. A man should definitely show a little more respect for a person who saved his life.”
“Personally, I think Flex is turning you into a pansy.” Tyrone sat down at the table and started counting the cards to make sure he had a full deck. “Carriage rides, expensive dinners and no sex are all signs of trouble. You need to come back to the playa side of things.”
“I’ve been on that side before and it’s never gotten me anywhere. I’m going to do the right thing this time—no matter how many cold showers I have to take.”
“You’re not fooling me. Something else is going on in those showers. How could you be around a woman that fine and not be tempted to hit it?”
Lincoln joined Tyrone at the card table. For the past month, he no longer required the use of a cane. “Who said I wasn’t tempted?” He shifted in his chair. Absently, he started playing with the poker chips. “I mean she’s perfect. Not only does she smell good and feel good, mentally she keeps me on my p’s and q’s. It’s amazing really. We’re so different—from our childhood to our careers—but yet we’re the same. Does that make any sense?”
Tyrone shrugged. “Why are you asking me? I’m divorced. I thought Flex was your relationship adviser.”
“Yeah, he thinks I’m secretly dating Henry’s sister.”
Tyrone shivered as his eyes widened with horror.
“I know.” Lincoln took his first swig of beer. “It’s a scary thought.”
“I don’t think his sister has left her house in over a year. Doesn’t she have, like, fifteen cats or something?”
“A few dogs, lizards and, I believe, a gray parrot. But don’t quote me on that.”
“And Henry wonders why she has trouble meeting men.” Tyrone shook his head. “You know, he tried to get me to go out with her back in college.”
“He tried to get everybody to go out with her.” Lincoln glanced at his watch. “I wonder why the gang is late.”
“They’ll be here.” Tyrone stretched back and popped a few chips into his mouth. “So how long can you snuggle up to a phone? A brother has needs.”
“Tell me about it,” Lincoln groaned. This whole abstaining stuff was new to him, too.
“So how long did Flex say it was reasonable to wait?”
“Why? Are you trying to get tips on the side?”
“I’m just curious.”
Lincoln shrugged. “He didn’t give me a specific date. He just warned me against doing it too soon. I should wait until I’m emotionally invested.”
“What a bunch of crap. Men are always emotionally invested. I know I am.”
“Yeah, right up until the part where you walk out of the door the next morning.”
“Maybe so. But while we’re butt naked in the sheets, that woman is my entire world.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. I want her to be my world before and after I sleep with her.”
Tyrone groaned.
“You know, this is where I was wrong before,” Lincoln continued. “You meet someone and you sleep with them and then you’re trying to backpedal and build a relationship. This time I’m going to build the bridge first before I cross it—with Flex’s help.”
“The man is teaching you what he’s learned from his sisters and you’re taking that information to win one of the sisters. You don’t see anything wrong with that?”
The doorbell rang and Lincoln stood up to answer it.
“Flex said to keep the relationship between A and B. And if it works out, then in the end the brother is only going to care that you’re making the sister happy.”
“That was when he thought you were talking about Henry’s sister.”
Lincoln opened his front door and allowed his circus of friends in the house.”
“Let’s get this party started,” Desmond shouted the moment he crossed the threshold. “I better warn you guys now, I’m feeling mighty lucky tonight.”
“Bring it on,” Tyrone challenged.
“Hey, where’s Flex?” Lincoln asked.
“He’s not sure whether he’s going to be able to make it,” Walter said. “We can go ahead and get started without him.”
Desmond chuckled. “Hey, when are you going to tell him that you’re tapping his sister’s ass, man?”
Lincoln’s sharp gaze sliced toward Tyrone.
“Sorry, man. You know I can’t keep a lid on something like this.”
Heat rushed up Lincoln’s body. “I’m not tapping anything, and please tell me none of you idiots have said anything to Flex.”
“C’mon,” Henry cut in, as he removed his jacket. “Give us a little more credit than that.”
“Not to mention, Flex is a big guy,” Tyrone said. “He might decide to kill the messenger. If you know what I mean.”
A murmur of agreement encircled the table as Lincoln took his seat. “Ty, I can’t believe you blabbed.”
Desmond’s dark features twisted into a frown. “What’s the big deal? It’s just us. We share everything—unless you’re trying to change that, too?”
Four sets of eyes narrowed on Lincoln and he was forced to go on the defensive. “It’s not like that. It’s just that I really like this girl and I’m determined not to make the same mistakes I’ve made in the past. I’m too old to be hanging out in the club or hooking up with the wrong type of women. Women I know going into the relationship are wrong for me. Then I see this exciting firecracker and, man, can she dance!”
“So you actually met her at the club?”
“Actually, the first time I talked to her was on Flex’s cell phone.”
Tyrone leaned forward at this new piece of news. “You picked up his sister over his own phone? Have you no shame?”
“No, I didn’t pick her up. I wanted to, but Flex sort of cut me off at the knees when I asked about her. So I forgot about it. Then I see her at this club and then the next thing I know she’s the hotshot artist rep I went to meet. Don’t you see? Fate is playing a hand in all of this.”
Tyrone snickered. “I think you need to drink a few beers, do a couple of sit-ups and stop talking like a girl.”
The men laughed as Walter finally started dealing the cards.
“Besides,” Tyrone continued, “if Flex is such an expert, then why isn’t he married?”
“He just got out of a ten-year relationship before he moved here.”
The small group whistled impressively.
“I have a question,” Desmond asked, opening a box of cigars and passing them around. “If you’re not sleeping with this chick, then what are you doing?”
“That’s none of your business,” Lincoln answered.
“Probably some hot and heavy phone sex,” Henry teased, and then elbowed Lincoln. “I ain’t playa hating. You got to get it any way you can, right?”
“Change the subject. I’m not going to talk about this.”
De
smond lowered his voice to do his impression of Lincoln. “Hey, Peyton, baby. What you got on tonight?”
The table erupted with laughter.
Walter leaned forward. “My thing is, you’re not going to be able to hide this from Flex for long,” he said. “What are you going to do when she tells her brother the name of her new boyfriend?”
Lincoln drew a breath. “Trust me, that keeps me up at night.”
“Why? You two aren’t doing anything.”
“Still.” Lincoln shrugged. “But it’ll all be over next Saturday when I go to California for his sister’s wedding. I’m supposed to meet the family.”
“Sure hope you don’t meet Flex’s fists,” Tyrone scoffed. “It would be a shame for the man who saved your neck to also be the one that takes it.”
Lincoln exhaled as he peeked at his cards. “Amen.”
* * *
It was another day, and another pair of shoes was pinching Peyton’s feet when she entered the Peppermill. As usual she was the last sister to make it to the restaurant, and as a result, Michael lit into her.
“Why haven’t you picked up your dress yet?”
“I meant to get over there today, I swear, but I was held up at the office.” She glanced over at Sheldon, who was busy fanning herself and her big belly. “Are you all right?”
“It’s just so damn hot in here,” Sheldon complained.
It was actually a bit chilly.
Frankie chuckled. “I think you’re going to have that baby tonight.”
Michael’s face instantly soured. “She better not have that baby until after my wedding.”
The girls laughed at the ridiculous demand.
“You’re getting a little too controlling,” Peyton warned. When their waiter passed the table she ordered a Long Island iced tea. Maybe it would be just the thing to relax her.
“So how are you, P.J.?” Frankie asked, leaning forward.
“Busy as always.”
Measure of a Man Page 12
