“Heard about last night,” Phil said, grabbing his suit jacket. “One of these days, we’re going to have to try and rein in the Adams women.”
“Good luck,” Marlin said, descending the staircase. “I gave up trying to get their mother under control early on.”
Phil laughed and shook his head as he slipped out the front door.
Marlin looked to his son. “He’ll learn sooner or later.”
Flex smiled. “If he hasn’t learned by now, then, I don’t hold out too much hope for him.” He turned back toward the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Father and son shuffled into the kitchen with awkward smiles.
“I’m surprised Mike isn’t up,” Marlin commented. He reached for his beloved raisin bran cereal. “Then again, nosing in other folks’ business is pretty tiring work.”
Flex cracked another smile. Everything in his childhood home was where it always was. The coffee and filters were in the second cabinet from the stove and the box of Equal was in the cupboard above the refrigerator.
“So, where’s your friend?” Marlin asked suddenly. “Did you two get a good night’s sleep?”
“Actually, Trey didn’t stay here last night, Pop.”
“You two fighting again?”
Flex glanced over at his dad and read genuine concern in his expression. It was time. Maybe trying his speech out on his dad wouldn’t be so bad. “The only reason Trey and I had an argument was that he found out I lied to you guys.”
“Lied about what?” Michael’s voice whipped from across the kitchen.
Flex looked up. For a fleeting moment, he thought about backing out of this, but knew that if he didn’t clear this up, Lincoln would do so for him later today.
He took a deep breath and spilled the beans. “Trey is not and has never been my boyfriend. I lied about the whole thing.”
* * *
After only a few hours of sleep, Peyton opened her eyes to the sound of birds chirping outside her bedroom window. Instead of attempting to get out of bed, she snuggled closer to the hard body lying next to her. For a long time, she just lay there listening to the sound of his heartbeat and the steady flow of his breathing pattern.
This was the happiest she’d ever been; plus, she’d never felt this comfortable with a man.
Absently, she ran a finger down the open span of his chest, and before she knew it she was drawing invisible heart shapes and signing her name.
“I see you’re awake,” Lincoln said. His deep baritone held a rough edge this early in the morning.
“Yeah.” She stretched her neck and planted a kiss against his chin. “We have a lot to do before we meet my sisters for lunch.”
“You mean we have to get out of bed?”
“Can you believe it?”
Lincoln moaned. “I can see now that this is going to be a sleep-deprivation type of vacation.”
“You had plenty of chances to sleep last night.”
“And miss out on all that good lovin’? No way.” He curled toward her and stole a kiss.
With her head swimming with delight, Peyton wanted to shirk her responsibilities and lie in bed all day with the man of her dreams. But the thought of Michael doing her bodily harm if she didn’t pick up the rest of those wedding decorations was enough for her to fling back the sheets.
“We better get up.”
Lincoln groaned. “Do we have to?”
“I’m afraid so.”
After a few more minutes of whining and complaining, Lincoln finally got of bed and joined her for another shower. While they were busy lathering each other up, Peyton heard her phone ringing in the distance, but was in no hurry to run and answer it.
They played with each other more than they bathed, and after an hour of such shenanigans, they left the bathroom and rushed to get ready for their day.
“We’re going to have to stop somewhere and buy you some clothes,” Peyton said, after watching him pout about the clothes he had worn the day before.
“That’s all right. I’m sure I’ll be picking up my luggage today.”
“You must have better confidence in the airlines than I do.”
Lincoln laughed. “Nothing as serious as that.”
“Well, are you ready to go?” she asked.
“What, no breakfast?”
Peyton wiggled her feet into a pair of sandals and then grabbed her purse. “We’re going to have to pick up something along the way. I also have another surprise for you today.” She winked.
Lincoln’s lips sloped unevenly. “I have a feeling today is going to be a day full of surprises.”
* * *
After Flex’s announcement, Michael called Frankie, who then called Sheldon, who then called Joey, and no one could reach Peyton. However, the person who seemed to have the hardest time with the confession was Marlin.
“So…that young man—”
“Is just a friend of mine,” Flex said.
Michael couldn’t stop staring and shaking her head at her brother. “I can’t believe that you had me worrying about Trey all last night.”
Flex winced. “I know. A part of me was still trying to avoid being found out,” he confessed. “All I can say is that I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt anybody. It started because I didn’t want you guys worrying about me in Georgia, and then I wanted word to get to Morgan that I had no trouble moving on. It seemed like a harmless lie.”
Marlin tsked and shook his head. “No good ever comes out of lying. I thought I raised you all up better than that.”
Flex took the scolding because he deserved it.
“So what did you do, pay him to go along with this?” Michael folded her arms while the phone remained nestled under her ear.
“No. Linc…Trey didn’t know anything until we arrived at the house. If anything, he was a good enough friend not to rat me out.”
The kitchen filled with an awkward silence before Marlin, at last, cleared his throat. “Well, he was still a nice young man. Of course, now I feel a little silly for some of the things I talked to him about.”
“Yeah, he told me about your talk last night,” Flex said. His eyes lowered to his coffee cup. “Maybe we can go out somewhere today and talk.” When his father didn’t answer, Flex’s gaze slid upward. “That’s if you want to.”
A shaky smile hugged Marlin’s lips. “I think I’d like that very much.”
* * *
Peyton parked outside the Couture Art Museum in the heart of downtown San Jose. She turned off the engine and turned excitedly toward Lincoln.
“This is it,” she announced.
He glanced around and didn’t know what to make of his surroundings. “Where are we?”
“We are at the museum that’s going to host your first art show.” She leaned over in her seat and kissed him. “Surprise.”
She watched as astonishment sank into his features.
“You have to be joking.”
“Nope.” She turned and bounded out of the car. “I told Orlando, the director here, all about your work and he’s just dying to work with you.”
“How? When?” Lincoln followed her up toward the museum’s door.
“Actually, we have thirty days to get ready for your show.”
“Thirty days? Is that enough time?”
She grabbed hold of his hand. “You already have a lot of pieces done. All you have to do is go home
and pick out your favorite ones. We’ll create a theme and presto, we’ll have our first show.”
Lincoln still appeared shocked as he glanced around the contemporary gallery space. “You really think I can pull this off?”
Peyton loved his bright-eyed reaction as she slid a supportive arm around his waist. “I think you’re going to be fabulous.”
“Ah, P.J., you came,” a male’s voice boomed behind them.
Peyton turned and beamed a bright smile at Orlando. “Of course I came.” She slid from Lincoln’s arms and into the friendly director’s. “I also brought you my latest protégé.”
“Ah.” Orlando stretched out a hand toward Lincoln. “I heard a lot about your work, Mr. Carver. I’m sure we’ll work beautifully together.”
Lincoln pumped his hand, while his smile beamed from ear to ear. “I can’t tell you how thrilled I am about this opportunity.”
“All I can say is, if you’re half as good as P.J. claims, I have the feeling that this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”
* * *
Flex was a nervous wreck when he arrived at the Peppermill, but he was determined to finally gain closure. As difficult as it was to confess to his family, he was certain it was nothing compared to the humiliation he was about to feel once he talked to Morgan.
There was no excuse for Flex’s behavior in the past twenty-four hours. In fact, he wanted to chalk the whole thing up to temporary insanity. Thank goodness he had a true friend in Lincoln Carver. Granted, he was upset about Flex’s whopper of a story, but he didn’t judge or end their friendship. Heck, had it not been for Lincoln, Flex would have spent this entire trip avoiding his father, but now he was more than hopeful they could repair the damage they’d inflicted on each other a year ago.
Peyton had found herself a good man in Lincoln. He just hoped she knew it.
Flex followed his hostess through the Peppermill’s dark maze to an empty table near the back. “Thank you,” he said, taking his seat.
Once he was alone, he practiced the speech he’d prepared during his ride over. But out of his list of questions, only one was important: Why did he leave?
Ten years was a long time to spend with someone you thought you knew, someone you thought you loved and someone you thought loved you.
Minutes into his rehearsed speech, Flex noticed the hostess heading back toward him. He straightened and put on his best smile before he noticed Morgan brought a guest.
“Flex. I’m so happy you made it,” Morgan greeted him, extending a cold hand. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty to invite Vince. We’re, uh, sort of seeing each other.”
Vince stretched out his hand.
Flex felt sick as he accepted it.
Morgan glanced around. “So, where’s Trey?”
Chapter 28
“You’re going to love this place,” Peyton bragged. “My sisters and I come here all the time.”
Lincoln opened the door of the Peppermill. “As long as they serve food, they’re all right with me,” he joked, and followed her inside.
The restaurant’s darkness jarred Lincoln, but once his vision adjusted, he was quite impressed with the place’s ambience.
The smiling hostess finally approached her podium. “Oh, hello, P.J. Are you meeting your sisters today?”
“Not today, Didi. I’m, uh, bringing in a new customer.” She winked.
Didi’s gaze scanned Lincoln as she gave him a flirtatious smile. “I sure hope he’s going to be a regular.”
Lincoln smiled broadly. “You never know.”
The young hostess blushed and grabbed two menus from behind the podium. “Follow me.”
Lincoln and Peyton laced their hands together and then fell in step behind Didi.
They were led to a circular table with a fire crackling in the center gas firepit. “This is different.”
“Do you like?” Peyton asked, sliding into her chair.
“Love it. Now, let’s see if we can put some food in our bellies.”
“A man with a one-track mind.”
“Don’t try to front. I heard your stomach growling in the car.”
Peyton blushed. “Oh, you heard that?”
“Uh-huh. You know, I seem to remember you telling me that you knew how to use a stove.”
“I do.”
Lincoln rolled his eyes. “So you say. Pizza for dinner, and no breakfast. It’s not looking too good.”
Her mouth fell open. “I’ve been… It’s not my fault that we…”
“Well, there’s six more days left in my vacation.” He shrugged. “Who knows? I just might get a chance to taste these fictitious culinary skills.”
“Fictitious?” She popped his hand. “All right. We’re not going to my father’s tonight. I’m inviting everyone over to my place. You’re going to get a home-cooked meal.”
Laughing, Lincoln held up his hands. “Hey, I don’t want to put you out. If you can’t cook, you can’t cook. It won’t change the way I feel about you.”
“I can cook. You’ll see. I’m going to make a big meal. You’ll eat it and you’ll like it.”
“All right, all right. I believe you.”
“Speaking of which, I seem to remember you bragging about being handy around the house.”
The corners of Lincoln’s lips curled wickedly. “I thought I was very handy last night.” Despite the low lighting, Lincoln watched as Peyton’s face darkened with embarrassment.
“I guess I walked into that one,” she said.
“I’m afraid so.” He winked, and then leaned forward to take her hand. “For the hundredth time, thank you for arranging this show. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”
“I’m just doing what a good agent is supposed to do.” She winked back.
His eyes widening in surprise, a cocky grin hooked the corners of Lincoln’s mouth. “Does this mean what I think it does?”
“Hey.” She shrugged. “I always said I could separate business from pleasure. Now I get the chance to prove it.”
“This day just keeps getting better and better.” He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips. “I wonder what the night will be like.”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Her blush darkened.
“And on that note,” he said, scooting out of the booth, “I think I’ll head to the men’s room.”
She turned in her seat and pointed toward the back of the restaurant. “Just go around the bar. You can’t miss it.”
Lincoln lifted her hand and brushed a kiss against her knuckles. “I’ll be right back.” He stood and followed her instruction. When he reached the bar, a voice boomed at him.
“There he is! Trey, over here!”
Lincoln’s head jerked at the sound of his name. To his right, he spotted someone waving. “Me?” He glanced around to make sure the person was referring to him, and then jabbed a thumb to the center of his chest for a double check.
“Yes, you,” the man said.
Frowning, he headed toward the stranger. Just as he was certain the man had mistaken him for someone else, recognition surged through his brain. “Morgan,” he said, with a jolt of surprise.
Morgan extended his hand. “Flex was just telling us that you couldn’t make it.”
Lincoln’s gaze fell to the two men settled around the dark table. He immediately recognized Flex’s large physique, despite his head being cradled in his hands. “Did he now?”
“Oh, where are my manners?” Morgan said. “I’d like to introduce the new man in my life, Vince Mackey. Vince, this is Flex’s new hunk, Trey Carter.”
“Nice to meet you,” Vince said, jutting out his hand.
Lincoln’s emotions rocketed from annoyance to anger faster than the speed of light. His buddy had promised to clear this up, but apparently he hadn’t.
“Here. Won’t you sit down?” Morgan asked.
Flex still refused to meet Lincoln’s gaze, but there was something about his slumped body language that weakened Lincoln’s anger. Memories of Flex saving his life flashed through Lincoln’s mind, and he couldn’t bring himself to expose his friend in a lie.
“Trey?” Morgan asked, frowning.
“Yes?” Lincoln turned his attention toward Morgan.
“Are you going to join us?”
Lincoln cast a glance across the restaurant to where he’d left Peyton. Maybe he could spare just a few minutes. “Sure,” he said, flashing a smile.
Flex lifted his head. His surprised gaze finally met Lincoln’s.
“But I was just on my way to the bathroom,” Lincoln hinted.
Flex stood. “I’ll come with you.” He flashed the other men a shaky smile. “We’ll be right back.”
Lincoln turned and led Flex toward the back of the restaurant. However, the moment they entered the men’s room, Lincoln rounded on him. “You’ve lost your mind!”
“I kept my word,” Flex said defensively. “I told my family the truth first thing this morning.”
“Then what the heck was that out there?”
Flex’s shoulders slumped as his explanation spilled forth. “Look, the past year hasn’t been easy for me—emotionally, anyway. Maybe I did hightail it out of California to get away from my problems. I came here for a real heart-to-heart with Morgan, but he showed up with this new guy and—” He stopped. “I was going to tell him the truth, honestly.”
Lincoln’s anger dissolved at the genuine look of emotional turmoil on his friend’s face. “I guess relationships are complicated no matter who’s involved, huh?”
Measure of a Man Page 20
