“What else?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess he’s very ambitious.”
“How so?”
“Well, he’s working many hours lately in order to impress his supervisor. He’s trying for a promotion at work.”
Lincoln couldn’t say anything negative about someone being ambitious. Most people might think that he was ambitious. But in reality, he just liked tinkering with things and had lucked out by creating several inventions that people needed. His ability to see solutions to problems had made him a very wealthy man. He wasn’t ambitious though. He wouldn’t care if he never released another invention into the world. He had enough money in the bank and invested that he could easily live off the interest for the rest of his life.
Lately, every time he pictured that life, Kinsley was by his side.
“So, is it a deal?” he asked.
“Sure,” Kinsley agreed, stabbing a grape with her fork. “What time? And what should I bring?”
“Tomorrow night. Six o’clock. Don’t bring anything except Cody.”
“Carl,” she emphasized with a twinkle in her eye. “If we’re having dinner together, then you’re going to have to use the right name. I know that you remember his name, Lincoln.”
“It’s a hard name to remember,” he replied, nudging the bowl of fruit closer.
She snorted. “Don’t even try it, buddy. You are one of the smartest men I’ve ever met. I’m sure that you can remember one man’s name. Especially when you don’t interact with anyone but me all day long.”
“That’s not true.” He stabbed a grape with his fork.
“Who else do you talk with during the day?” She challenged.
“My housekeeper talks to me.”
“Really?” She asked. “What’s her name?”
“Amy,” he replied quickly.
Kinsley’s eyes narrowed. “And what did you say to Amy this morning?”
He shrugged, pulling Kinsley’s gaze to his shoulders. She’d been doing a pretty good job of ignoring those amazing shoulders up until that moment.
“She asked what I wanted for dinner,” he replied.
“And?”
Lincoln looked up. “What else does she need to say?”
Kinsley laughed. “How about just talking to her, asking her about her day. Does she have children?”
“She’s in her sixties.”
Kinsley laughed, shaking her head with exasperation. “Then ask about her grandchildren, Linc! Be nice!” She pointed her fork at him, but the emphasis was dimmed due to the strawberry impaled on the tines. “I know you can do it. It took you long enough to be nice to me, but eventually, you came out of your grouch-mode.”
He didn’t respond, but Kinsley knew that he was amused by her assessment of his character.
“Fine, we’ll be there at six o’clock tomorrow night. Now, I’m almost finished with that box of receipts that you gave me on my first day. So, I’m going to…”
He interrupted her before she could ask for another assignment. “I need you on the track this afternoon. So, the receipts are going to have to wait.”
“The track?” she echoed, looking at him with wide, worried eyes.
He chuckled softly at her anxiety. “I made more modifications to the balancing component that I’ve been working on. I want to test it out and see if my changes make a difference.”
She took a long, slow breath. “So…you’re going to drive your motorcycle around that track like you did the other time?”
He took her hand, stroking her cold, trembling fingers. “I know what I’m doing, Kinsley. I promise, I’ll be fine.”
She closed her eyes, her lips pressed together for a long moment. Then she opened her eyes and nodded. “Right. You know what you’re doing.” She started packing up the food from their lunch. “I’ll just…put this away in the fridge and get the headsets.”
Lincoln watched Kinsley walk away, wondering how he could prove to her that he knew what he was doing. It only looked like he was taking risks when he drove around the track on his motorcycle. Still, it was…oddly sweet…that she worried about him.
In the storage room, he pulled the box that contained the headphones down. But as soon as he peeked in the box, he burst out laughing. The box wasn’t a jumbled mess of wires and tangled headphone connectors anymore. Nope! Not with Kinsley around! She’d not just organized the box, but labeled each headphone with numbers and taped a computer printout of the inventory list to the box. He couldn’t imagine when she’d managed this organizational feat, but he was impressed.
Tucking the box under his arm, he carried it outside, strapped the box onto the back of his bike, then drove down to the track and waited for Kinsley. Sure enough, she pulled up in her little Prius, determined not to ride on the back of his motorcycle. Soon, he thought as he shoved the helmet down over his head. Very soon, he was going to negotiate with her to ride on the back. Then she’d understand that he was fully in control of the motorcycle. Plus, he’d also developed several additions to the engine that helped improve the safety of the bike.
Granted, the main issue with motorcycles wasn’t the expertise of the person driving the motorcycle. The real danger was with other drivers, people in the cars or trucks, mostly because they were looking out for cars, not motorcycles.
Lincoln handed her a neatly wrapped headset. “I see you attacked the box,” he observed without any sarcasm. Especially when he picked up another headset without having to untangle the wires. “Good job.”
“Thanks,” she replied with a grin. “Okay, what’s on the agenda for today?”
Lincoln hefted the balance mechanism and attached it to the motorcycle, connecting all of the wires so that he could record the data. “Today will be just like last time. We’re doing the same drill again.”
“But…?”
He didn’t look up from attaching the thingamabob as he explained, “I didn’t get the results I expected last time. I think I got it right this time. If I’ve fixed the issues, then I’ll need to test this out on other motorcycles, so be prepared to buy me several different types of bikes.”
She’d just finished adjusting the headset when his words registered. “I’m sorry, but did you just say you need me to buy other motorcycles?”
“Sure,” he replied, standing up and slapping his hands together. “I need to make sure this thing works with the computers on different bikes. It won’t do much good if it only fixes the balance problems on a Ducati.”
“Oh, well obviously! Why not buy several new bikes!” she muttered sarcastically under her breath. More loudly, she asked, “Do you know how to drive other types of bikes?”
“Sure. Once you know how to ride one, they’re all pretty similar. Some have some different quirks. Like the Suzuki or the Yamaha.”
Huh! She was actually fascinated, despite her concerns over the safety of a motorcycle. “What’s different about those?”
He tested another wire, nodding when it was secure. “Some people call those crotch rockets. They’re fast and furious and have a different feel.”
She stood there, watching him, not sure she believed him. He laughed, looking over at her. “It’s the difference between driving your Prius, which is a four cylinder car with an electric battery, and a Corvette, which is an eight cylinder, two seater car designed for speed and style.”
Ah! He was now speaking her language! “Okay, that makes sense to me.”
He shook his head. “Are you really the kind of person who can’t tell the difference between the various motorcycles?”
She shrugged, a twinkle in her eyes because she knew he was teasing her. “Well, I know that some have longer handlebars. And I heard someone say that the best way to find a good barbeque place in Texas is to find the restaurant with the most motorcycles and pickup trucks parked out front. But I’m not the kind who would test motorcycles, nor have I ever been to Texas. So neither of those issues is something I can testify to.”
; Lincoln chuckled. “Good enough.” He tossed her the stopwatch. “Start timing me when I pass by the red line.”
He revved the engine and blasted off down the track.
“Can you hear me, Kinsley?” Lincoln asked in her ear.
“Loud and clear, boss,” she teased right back. When she heard his chuckle, she couldn’t help but smile.
“Good. So let me know the timing as I pass by this time. I’m going to do a bit more testing, pushing the bike a bit harder.”
Kinsley didn’t know what that meant. But she obediently pressed the button on the stopwatch when his bike roared over the red line. Then she watched, breathlessly, as he zoomed along the track, seeming to be a blur this time. When he turned into the corner, he leaned the bike into what seemed like a dangerous angle. She held her breath, terrified that something would go wrong, that the bike would slide out from under him and Lincoln would go skidding across the asphalt.
When he came out of the turn, Kinsley released the breath she’d been holding. But he was coming up on the next and…he did it again! Did he speed up as the hour wore on? Kinsley wasn’t sure and she wasn’t doing a very good job of timing the laps. She got maybe half of them recorded, but those times might not be accurate. Every time he went into one of those turns, Kinsley struggled to pull her eyes away from the bike until he was on the straightaway again.
When he finally pulled to a stop and shut off the bike, Kinsley felt as if she might just throw up.
“What the hell were you trying to do?” she demanded, tossing her clipboard and stopwatch down onto the ground. “Do you have a death wish? Is that it? Are you suicidal?”
“I’m sorry?” he asked, pulling his helmet off and looking down at her.
“What are you trying to do?” she demanded.
Lincoln looked at Kinsley, about to blast her for yelling at him when he was only doing his job, making sure that his invention worked and was ready for the next level of testing.
But as he looked down at her, he realized that there were tears in her eyes. Not just that, but she was trembling. Was she…scared for him? It had been such a long time since anyone had given a damn about him that the feeling warmed him right down to his toes.
He pulled her into his arms, holding her against his chest. “I’m sorry, Kinsley. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He rubbed his hand down her back, and stroked her hair. She was shaking so hard, he wasn’t sure how she could stand. Tightening his arms around her, Lincoln closed his eyes, feeling….good. She cared. Damn, she actually cared! It wasn’t love. No, he didn’t delude himself into thinking that it was love. It was just…concern for him. Concern that he might have pushed the bike too far, taken the corners too fast.
So he just stood there, holding her and soothing her. And damn it felt good! Really good. No one had cared about him since his mother had passed away, about ten years ago. It was…strange to know that there was another human being who cared whether he lived or died. For so long, he’d just gone through life on his own terms, never caring about anyone else. Oh, he gave to the charities that he agreed with. But giving a few million dollars to an organization was completely different than caring if someone smiles. Or breathes.
Kinsley cared.
For a long moment, he stood there with her in his arms, savoring her concern. Okay, and savoring the feel of her in his arms, her soft breasts pressed against his chest. He breathed in the sweet scent of her shampoo and let his hands move over her silken skin. But that was all he would allow himself to feel. Anything else would be…bad. Very bad!
“I’m okay,” she whispered into his chest.
Lincoln relaxed his hold on her, but he didn’t let her go. Not yet. And not just because he thought she might still need his support. He held onto her because…hell, because she felt so good. She felt right in his arms. Better than any other woman had ever felt and he was reluctant to let that sensation go.
“Why do you do that?” She asked, looking up at him through damp lashes. Had she really cried for him? Something twisted in his chest and he cupped her cheek as his thumb dried her tears.
“It wasn’t nearly as dangerous as it looked, really,” he assured her, his voice deep and husky.
She shuddered and his arms tightened around her again. “But…the angles you were taking those corners, Linc! They were…!”
“Not nearly as dangerous as they look.” He took her hand and led her over to the bike. “See this? You watched me attach it right before I took off. When I go into a tight turn, this sends a message to the engine to transfer the power from one wheel to another, based off the angle of the turn. So the greater the turn, the more power goes to the wheel that needs to speed up to control the turn.” He stood up with the mechanism in his hand. “I’ve been working on this for months. I think I’ve finally gotten it to work properly. It felt right this time around.”
Kinsley sniffed and he looked at her, thinking that she looked adorable with her red nose and the mascara smudged around her eyes.
She poked at it with her finger, but it was made of steel and wires. Not very pokable. “So…this is supposed to keep bike riders safe?”
“Well,” he laughed slightly. “It won’t keep them safe from other drivers. I can’t think of any way to keep them safe from someone who doesn’t see them.” He tossed the small, globe-like device in his hand. “But this can help with a driver’s stupidity. It can sense the angle of the bike, the feel of the road, and adjust the power. It will save lives, Kinsley.”
She bowed her head. “I don’t think I did a very good job of timing the laps, Linc. I’m so sorry!”
He laughed and pulled her back into his arms. This time, it wasn’t because she needed his support. It was because he needed hers.
“That’s okay. Maybe we’ll try again tomorrow.” He heard her squeak at that point and laughed, hugging her more tightly.
Chapter 9
“Be nice!” Kinsley warned as she got out of Carl’s car.
“I’m always nice, Kin,” Carl rolled his eyes and started up the elaborate pathway towards the beautiful house.
Kinsley had seen the house from the racetrack one day. Of course she had! It was too big and too beautiful for her not to have noticed it. But walking up to it now seemed much more significant than anything else she’d done for Lincoln during her employment.
She felt nervous, jumpy, and…oddly excited. This wasn’t like walking into work in the morning. Kinsley was entering Lincoln’s private domain. His lair, so to speak.
When they were halfway up the pathway, Kinsley turned and stepped in front of Carl, stopping their forward momentum. “This is a really important night for me, Carl.”
He stopped to look down at her. “Why are you so nervous, Kin?” he demanded sharply. “It’s just dinner.”
“This is my boss, Carl! I’m nervous because…!” Why was she nervous? She ate lunch with Lincoln every day. This should be just another meal. But for some reason, Kinsley knew that it wasn’t “just another meal”. Tonight was different. It was more important because…?
Because his bedroom was close by!
Whoa! Kinsley’s mouth fell open when the thought popped into her head. Where in the world had that brainwave come from? Granted, she’d had some shockingly erotic dreams starring her boss over the past few weeks. But she hadn’t ever thought to follow through on those dreams! No way!
Not that she was a prude! She’d had sex before. Not with Carl because…she looked at him as he continued walking up the path towards Lincoln’s house. They were saving sex until after they were married, she reminded herself. Yep, that’s why they hadn’t had sex.
Or was there a different reason?
Kinsley didn’t want to think about that. Not now. Not when she was going to be so close to Lincoln in a different setting.
And so close to his bedroom!
Stop it! She admonished herself for even thinking such ridiculous thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she moved up to stand next to Carl, not even
sure why she’d been behind him.
Lincoln always walked beside her.
Another stupid thought. Why would it matter if Carl walked in front of her?
Because Kinsley admitted she really liked the way Lincoln walked beside her, like he was shielding her from the world. As if he truly cared if she were safe and protected.
Oh good grief! Smoothing a hand down her black sheath dress, Kinsley admonished herself for thinking negative thoughts about Carl. So what if he preferred to walk in front of her, as if he needed to prove something…and there she went again! Glancing at him, she wondered why she was doing these mental comparisons. Before she’d met Lincoln, Kinsley respected Carl and had felt a deep kinship with him.
Did that mean that she didn’t respect him now that she’d met Lincoln? And was that kinship with Carl diminished somehow by her fascination with her boss?
Kinsley didn’t know where these thoughts were coming from, but she took a deep breath and reached out to ring the doorbell. And yes, she ignored the giddy excitement bubbling inside of her. She was just thrilled to see inside this beautiful house, she thought. It was massive, built up on a bluff and surrounded by verdant landscaping. There were stone pathways that meandered through the landscaping, providing several places to sit and contemplate the stunning views of the mountains and the city far off in the distance.
But the house itself was stunning as well. It was sort of a mix of mid-century lines but with a modern, almost craftsman style to it. Kinsley suspected that there was an architectural name for the style of his house. She just didn’t know enough about design to have that name on the tip of her tongue. It would be a good conversational topic for when the discussion grew quiet and awkward.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Kinsley jerked around, looking at Carl, unaware of her mouth falling open. “Me? What do you mean?”
One More Kiss (Forsaken Sons Book 1) Page 7
