“Then tell them I’m at Peyton’s house. You know her—she’s my girlfriend.”
“If I go downstairs now and tell them that I haven’t been upset the whole night about your leaving and that I’ve gotten them all worked up over nothing, I’ll have a mob on my hands.”
Lincoln stood and crept to the bathroom for more privacy. Once he closed the door, he hissed into the phone, “And what do you think will happen tomorrow when I’m introduced as Peyton’s boyfriend? Either way, you’re between a rock and a hard place.”
“Don’t make me beg. I need you here,” Flex panted. “To make matters worse, apparently Michael also sent Morgan an invitation to the wedding. I can’t go to the wedding without a date now. First of all, he’ll think you’ve dumped me and I’ll look even more pathetic in his eyes. Who wants to be a two-time loser?”
Lincoln pulled the phone away and stared at it for a moment before he brought it back against his ear. “Are you even listening to yourself? I’m not about to be Peyton and your date. In fact, when I hang up I’m going to forget that we ever had this conversation.”
“Linc, don’t hang up.”
“Tell them the truth.”
“I need more time. Please, they’re talking about calling the police and filing a missing person report.”
“Flex—”
“Twenty minutes. Just show up, let them know that you’re okay, and once they go home you can slip back over to Peyton’s.”
“Flex—”
“Just this one favor and I swear I’ll leave you alone.”
Lincoln released a frustrated sigh. “I must be out of my mind.”
“After this, Linc, we’re square.”
Over the years, Lincoln had prided himself on being a good friend to people. There was nothing like being there for friends who needed a shoulder to cry on, a sofa to crash on and even a loan of some gas money until next payday; but this was above the call of duty—by anyone’s standards.
“Linc?”
“Twenty minutes,” he said, and then squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this.
Flex exhaled. “Thank you, Linc. You’re a good friend.”
“Gee, thanks.”
* * *
Peyton sat on the sofa with her legs tucked beneath her and the cordless phone cradled between her shoulder and chin. On a night that was filled with such incredible highs, the last thing she wanted to do was try to counsel her loony sisters about respecting other people’s boundaries.
She believed that Frankie and Michael were simply trying to help, but they had a habit of going about things the wrong way. “Where is Flex now?”
“Upstairs in his room,” Michael said. “He won’t talk to us.”
“Imagine that.”
“This isn’t funny, P.J. Can’t you just come over for a few minutes and see if you can talk to him? You two have always been close.”
“Primarily because I know how to keep my nose out of his business. Just let him sleep on this. You’ll see. He’ll be a lot better in the morning.”
“No. We’re not leaving here until Trey comes back,” Michael insisted. “How can we? We’re responsible for him running out of here like that.”
“Since it’s so late, maybe he’s checked into some hotel somewhere. Your staying there isn’t helping anything.”
“He hasn’t checked into a hotel. His luggage is still here in the foyer. Please, P.J., come over for a few minutes.”
“Absolutely not. I have company and—” she stopped and looked up as Lincoln suddenly appeared fully dressed. She placed her hand over the receiver. “Where are you going?”
Lincoln drew a breath and appeared either nervous or uncomfortable. “I’m just going to run out for a few minutes.”
“Why?” She unfolded her legs.
“No. Don’t get up. I’m just going to run to a convenience store for, uh, something for a headache.”
“I’m not wearing you out, am I?” She winked and then watched as his adorable dimples made an appearance.
“Don’t brag. I’ll be right back.”
“Wait. I have plenty of Ibuprofen and Tylenol.”
His smile disappeared as quickly as it came. “Uh, I also need to pick up some, uh…”
Peyton frowned.
“Condoms!” He brightened suddenly. “Yeah, some more condoms. I’m all out.”
Peyton pressed her hand tighter against the receiver as her face warmed from embarrassment. The last thing she wanted her sisters to overhear was about their condom deficit.
“Oh, okay.” She smiled. “Do you want me to come with you?”
Lincoln walked over to her and then leaned down to brush a kiss against her lips. “No, that’s not necessary. You finish talking to your sister. I’ll be right back.”
“But do you know where—”
“I’ll find it.” He turned away, but stopped before he left the living room. “You just make sure you stay right here. I want you to be ready when I get back.”
“You got it,” she whispered and placed the phone back against her ear.
“Peyton, are you still there?” Michael asked.
“Yeah, I’m back.” She sighed and daydreamed about the man who had just left. Her mind was consumed with Lincoln’s broad muscles, excessively wicked tongue, and impressive…anatomy.
“Mike, can I ask you a question?” she asked, cutting her sister off in midsentence. “When did you know that Phil was the one for you?”
Michael’s sputtering made it clear that the question caught her off guard. “The one?”
She started to elaborate when common sense kicked in and reminded her whom she was talking to. “Nothing. Just forget it.”
Of course, she wasn’t able to get off that easy. “Oh, my God, Frankie,” Michael yelled. “Pick up the other phone. P.J. is in love.”
Faster than a speeding bullet, there was a click and Frankie’s excited voice filled the line. “You’ve got to be kidding. Is it this Lincoln guy?”
She should deny it, Peyton realized, but she couldn’t. Instead, she made a confession. “Girls, I really think I’ve finally found my Price Charming.”
Chapter 25
Joey removed her jacket as she entered her father’s home and then greeted Frankie with a tentative hug. “Where is he?”
“In his old bedroom,” Frankie said shakily. “Oh, Joe. We really screwed things up. We only wanted to make Morgan jealous and show how Flex has moved on. We thought he’d love it.”
Joey shook her head. “When are you girls going to learn? We don’t want you guys constantly trying to fix everyone’s lives.” She headed for the staircase.
“We? You’ve been known to poke your nose in where it doesn’t belong a few times, yourself.” Frankie followed her. “We were just trying to help. If Flex put Morgan in his place, then maybe he wouldn’t feel like he needed to be so far from home.”
“No one is saying that you don’t have good intentions. You just need to learn when to draw the line. Where is Michael?”
“Michael is on the phone with Peyton in the living room and Dad is around here somewhere.”
Joey shook her head and drew a deep breath when she reached Flex’s bedroom door. “Give me a few minutes alone with him.”
“Maybe I should stay for support?”
Joey stared at her.
“Or I could just join Michael downstairs.” Frankie backed up. “Just call me if yo
u need any help.”
Joey rolled her eyes and knocked softly on her brother’s door. “Flex, are you in there?”
“Will you girls just let it go?” Frustration saturated his voice.
“Flex, it’s me, Joey.”
He didn’t respond.
“Look, I’m on your side. I just want to talk to you for a few minutes.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “I’m alone.”
The door clicked and then slowly opened. At her first glance at her brother, the deep-grooved lines in his face bothered her. It made him look older—tired.
“C’mon in.”
She stared at him for a second, and then entered the room. “How are you holding up?”
“Are you kidding? I feel like a prisoner or, at the very least, a grounded teenager.” He closed the door and started pacing like a caged animal.
Joey sat down on the edge of the bed. “I guess you’re pretty upset about Trey leaving?”
“Hardly.”
“You know Frankie and Michael didn’t mean—” She stopped when she finally caught what he’d said. “Excuse me?”
“Everyone is making a mountain out of a mole hill.”
“So…you’re not upset?” She struggled to understand. “Were you and Trey having some kind of trouble before you arrived?”
“No. We were actually getting along fine before today, thank you.” His pacing increased.
“I don’t understand.” Joey stood up. “Are you or aren’t you mad your boyfriend stormed out of here after Frankie and Michael ambushed you?”
“I’m mad about the ambush,” he affirmed, while the muscles along his jaw twitched. “I felt like an idiot in front of Morgan. On top of that, I froze when I saw him—and in front of my family. It was humiliating.”
As a firefighter and as a man, Joey had deduced a long time ago that showing weakness or vulnerability was some kind of cardinal sin. After Morgan had walked out of their ten-year relationship, Flex did all he could to camouflage his emotions. Even now, she sensed the war within himself raging on.
“And what about Trey?” she asked. “Why aren’t you concerned about him? He was ambushed, too, and he has been gone for hours. Does he even know anyone else here in town?”
“Trust me. He’s not lacking for company at the moment.” Flex looked at her again and his demeanor changed. “You know, you should go now. I’m fine. This whole thing will blow over.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll probably just hang out with Frankie and Michael until Trey comes back. They really do want to apologize to him.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sudden knock at the door.
“Go away,” Flex barked. “Uh, Joey, about your staying—”
“Joey, come get on the phone,” Frankie’s excited voice boomed through the door. “It’s about P.J.”
Joey turned to her brother. “It sounds like they’ve already found a new victim.”
Flex visibly relaxed. “Thank God.”
* * *
“What in the hell am I doing?” Lincoln asked as he started the car. He ignored the fact his stomach had twisted into a large knot, but it was harder to ease his conscience about deceiving Peyton’s family.
The whole ride back to the Adams home, Lincoln convinced himself that silence was golden. The way he was beginning to see it, as long as no one asked him about his relationship with Flex, then technically he wasn’t lying.
His mood brightened.
This was Flex’s mess. Up until a few hours ago, he had no idea of the deception that was in play. So there was still a way for him to walk away clean.
Lincoln parked and climbed out of the car. Whatever you do, don’t lie, he coached himself; but despite the small pep talk, the knot tightened in his gut.
Taking a deep breath, he started up the walkway.
“Glad to see the girls haven’t chased you off for good.”
Lincoln stopped and turned toward the voice. “Mr. Adams?” Lincoln swallowed when he made out the man’s silhouette from off the porch deck. “What are you doing out here?”
Marlin stepped from out of the shadows and into the porch’s pool of light. “The problem with having so many daughters is that they have a tendency to take over the household from time to time.” He shrugged, with a wide smile. “Most times, I don’t mind.”
Lincoln smiled. “You have wonderful daughters.”
“And a pretty terrific son.”
After a slight pause, Lincoln found his voice again. “He’s certainly a good guy. Saved my neck.”
Marlin nodded. “Would you like to have a seat out here with me for a little chat? Once you go inside, I’m afraid I won’t be able to get a word in edgewise.”
Lincoln didn’t like that idea. “Actually, I think I—”
“Oh, c’mon.” Marlin approached and slapped a hand against Lincoln’s back. “I’m not going to bite you.”
Horror-stricken, Lincoln wondered if the man would become alarmed if he started hollering for help. “Sure. I’d be glad talk to you for a few minutes,” he said instead.
“Good, good.”
A few seconds later, Lincoln found himself sitting on a porch swing, and avoiding meeting Mr. Adams’s gaze.
“I hope you forgive me,” Marlin said, hesitantly. “I’m not used to doing this sort of thing, but, uh, I guess I should start off by saying that I’m glad you and Francis came for the wedding.”
Someone just shoot me and put me out of my misery. “I’m happy I could come.”
Marlin cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t know how much Francis has told you about our relationship, but it’s a bit strained at the moment.”
“Actually, sir, he hasn’t talked to me in any real detail about your relationship. That sort of thing isn’t really any of my business.” The silence that followed forced Lincoln to glance over at the older man. Was he crying? “Mr. Adams?”
Marlin shook his head. “He’s probably still hurt for the ugly things I said to him when I’d found out the truth behind him and Morgan being more than just roommates.”
Lincoln bolted to his feet. “Mr. Adams, I think you need to have this conversation with Francis—I mean, Flex.”
Marlin stood up, as well. “Please call me Marlin. Heck, you’re dating one of my kids, right?”
Lincoln swallowed. “Right.”
“C’mon, sit back down.” Marlin reclaimed his seat and patted a spot beside him. “It’s time I get a lot of this off my chest.”
“Then let me go in and get Flex. He’s the one you need to be talking to.”
“But what if he doesn’t listen?” Marlin’s shoulders slumped. “You saw how he was in the car. He won’t give me the chance to prove that I’ve changed. I’ve been reading up on all this gay stuff. Heck, I even watch that Will & Grace show. It’s pretty funny,” he said, chuckling.
It was impossible for Lincoln to ignore the fact that the man was trying hard to understand something he quite simply didn’t get. “Mr. Adams—Marlin. From my own experience, one of the hardest things for me to do is to talk to my father. He’s a good man, much like you, but when it comes to communicating, neither of us is very good at it. Whenever I talk, he’s hearing something else and vice versa. But maybe the problem we all have is that we’re trying to talk at the same time. No one’s listening. Maybe all Flex wants is for you to listen.”
Marlin lowered his head to stare at his braided fingers. “I think you might have something the
re.”
Lincoln exhaled, feeling the revelation of his own words and vowing to spend more time with his own father. “I’ll go inside and get your son for you.”
“Thanks, Trey.” Marlin stood once again. “You know, you’re all right. I like you.”
“Thanks, Mr. Adams—Marlin.” Lincoln returned to the front door and entered the house.
* * *
“Maybe I’m just reading way too much into this,” Peyton said. “Everyone knows that long-distance relationships don’t work. And it’s not like he’s even suggested that we—” She stopped. “I’m going around in circles, aren’t I?”
Frankie sighed. “He really has gotten to you, hasn’t he?”
“We definitely have to meet this one,” Michael added.
“Only if you guys promise to be on your best behavior,” Peyton said, laughing. “None of this showing up to dinner with Ricky or something.”
“Low blow,” Michael said.
Joey giggled. “Well, I’ve met Lincoln and I’m not surprised by this. Just make sure you continue to play it cool. Remember your rule about never showing a guy your complete hand.”
Peyton smiled and drew a breath. “You know, the thing about Lincoln and me is that neither of us is into head games. We say what we mean and mean what we say. It’s refreshing.”
“He’s also a challenge,” Joey added.
“There’s that, too.” Peyton nodded. Still nestled on the sofa, she’d refilled her wineglass and she enjoyed its light, smooth taste while her mind danced with thoughts of Lincoln.
“Do you think it’s too forward to ask him where we are in the relationship? You know to, sort of, check and see if we’re on the same page? After all, it’s only been a few months.”
“Sure. There are plenty of couples who have gotten hitched in less time than that,” Frankie said.
“And some of us take a little longer,” Michael amended.
“Oh, I’m not saying I’m ready to get married again,” Peyton protested.
Measure of a Man Page 18
