by A. M. Myers
His hand pokes out of the door and he waves, giving me the go ahead so I grab two menus and step out from behind the counter.
“Follow me.”
A whistle sounds behind us and I shake my head, resisting the urge to flip Mia off. It would only add more fuel to her fire and possibly make Lincoln think this lunch is more than it is. Not that I even know what it is.
After he came into the gas station yesterday, I spent most of my shift thinking of all the reasons that I should avoid any kind of relationship with him and basically it came down to two things. First, he’s obviously a player and while he seems to be putting in the extra effort to woo me, I’m not naive enough to think that he’d want more than one night with me and two, with Mom’s death, this is the worst time for me to be getting into a relationship. I can’t deny that he affects me, though. More than anyone has in years.
“You’re not going to wait on yourself, are you?” Lincoln asks as we sit across from each other in a booth and I shake my head.
“No, I’m sure Mia will be by in a second. Not like I could keep her away if I tried.”
He arches a brow. “Oh? Why’s that?”
“‘Cause she’s nosy as hell and she remembers you from the other night.”
“You mean the night you verbally assaulted me?” he asks, a smile playing at his lips and I roll my eyes.
“Let’s not be dramatic and you totally deserved it.”
Barking out a laugh, he takes one of the menus from the table and opens it. “Did I now?”
“Yes,” I reply with a nod. “I’m only mean to people who are rude to me and you, sir, were very rude.”
“All right, maybe I was a little bit off that night but it’s only because I was so nervous about talking to this gorgeous woman.”
I point a finger at him, shaking my head. “If you’re talking about me, stop it and if you’re not talking about me, also stop it.”
“Why?”
“Because if you are talking about me, friends don’t talk about each other like that.”
He nods thoughtfully, studying me. “And if I wasn’t talking about you?”
“The chicken is good here,” I answer, glancing down at the menu like I didn’t just ignore his question. The truth is, I don’t want him talking about another girl like that but it doesn’t make me sleeping with him any less of a bad idea. “I feel like I need to get something out of the way.”
He looks up. “What?”
“I’m not going to sleep with you. Ever. It’s not going to happen.”
Whiskey colored eyes narrow and he bites down on his full lip. “I don’t know, Sugar. Forever is a long time.”
“Okay,” I choke out, holding my hands up. “First of all, don’t ever call me Sugar again. I’m not your sugar and even if we were sleeping together, I wouldn’t let you call me that and secondly, I can’t be doing this with you. It doesn’t matter that I’m attracted to you or that you’re attracted to me because my mom just died and I’m trying to figure out where to go from here. You understand everything I’m dealing with in a way that none of my other friends do so I need you right now and this can’t get screwed up by us falling into bed together.”
“Look, Tate,” he sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. “I’m serious about wanting to be your friend and yeah, there is obviously more between us but it’s not my focus right now. Maybe someday, you and I can explore that but not right now and I get that.”
He reaches across the table and grabs my hand as I gasp softly at the butterflies flapping around in my belly.
“Okay, then.”
Mia steps out from behind the counter, her eyes on us, and I rip my hand away as she approaches.
“Y’all know what you want to eat?” she asks, eying me with a mischievous grin on her face and I shake my head as Lincoln orders a sweet tea and a sandwich.
“My usual, Mia,” I tell her and she nods, winking at me before turning and walking away from our table.
“So, in all seriousness, how are you doing with everything?” Lincoln asks and I shrug.
“I don’t know how to answer that. One minute I’m fine, the next I’m crying, and then a few seconds later I’m mad.”
He nods. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“God, I have so many questions, too,” I sigh. “It’s starting to feel like I didn’t even know my mother.”
“Like what?”
“Everything,” I answer and his brows shoot up. “I know that sounds dramatic but I literally don’t know anything about her anymore.”
“Well, tell me about it. That’s why I’m here.”
I stare at him for a moment, debating how much is safe to tell him before sighing. “My mom left my brother and me a lot of money… like, a lot, but the thing is, when we were growing up, it always seemed like we were just scraping by.”
“Did she have life insurance?” he asks and I shake my head.
“No, it wasn’t life insurance. A lawyer came over to the house and presented us with checks as part of her estate. And then there were all these love letters tucked away in a box and a photo of a little boy.”
His brow furrows and a feeling of contentment washes over me, knowing that he’s really invested in this conversation and helping me figure this all out as a friend. I halfway expected this whole “friend” thing to be a way to get into my pants but when I speak, it feels like he’s really listening and he really cares.
“Could they be from your dad?”
“I don’t even know who my dad is so it’s possible.”
He scowls. “What do you mean you don’t know who your dad is?”
“She wouldn’t ever tell us.”
“Are you sure she even knew?”
I don’t like to think that my mother was a bit of a slut but at this point, I can’t dismiss anything.
“I’ll add that one to the bottom of the list. God! It’s driving me crazy. We never had a normal childhood but everything that’s come up since she died is just on another level.”
“Why didn’t you have a normal childhood?”
I sigh and meet his gaze. Normally, I would never unload this much of my past onto a person I barely know but the more I talk to him, the better I feel and something inside me, something I can’t ignore, is telling me to trust him.
“As soon as Theo and I were born, my mom hit the road with us. We lived in roadside motels, bouncing from city to city every few months until we turned six and Mom brought us to Baton Rouge.”
“So, she was a nomad?” he asks and I shake my head.
“I don’t know why we lived like that but I doubt it. Once we settled here, she stayed in the same house until the day she died and seemed perfectly content.”
“That is weird,” he says, his voice trailing off as Mia approaches with our drinks.
“Your food will be right out.”
“Thanks, Mia.” I smile at her and when Lincoln turns to look out the window she flashes me a thumbs-up and I roll my eyes. When she leaves, I glance over at Lincoln.
“You got any Valentine’s Day plans for tomorrow?” he asks and I laugh.
“What part of “I haven’t dated in eight years” made you think I would have Valentine’s Day plans? Why? Do you?”
“Naw, as you’ve pointed out, I’m not really the type.”
I nod. “Right.”
Even though I knew that and even though it’s stupid as hell, hearing him admit that things between us could never be more than friends with benefits stings more than I would like to admit.
Chapter Eight
Lincoln
“Let’s get some wine glasses and pop this baby open,” one of Tate’s friends says as they gather in her living room, curled up on the couches. Tate leaves the room and I watch her walk into the kitchen. She stops in front of the sink and braces her hands on the counter and drops her head.
“So fucking stupid,” she mutters to herself and I can’t look away from the screen, enthralled by the
woman who’s been haunting my dreams since the first moment I saw her. My mind drifts back to my shower this morning when I jerked off to images of her in my mind and experienced the most intense orgasm of my fucking life as my cock grows hard again. It’s so much more than that, though.
Yeah, I’d do just about anything to get this sexy, bold woman underneath me but whenever I think about that being it, about ending it after one night like I always do, an unexplainable panic rises up in me. And although I’ve spent a fair amount of time picturing her naked, I also imagine taking her out on a proper date. In my mind, she’ll wear a dress that hugs her lush curves and teases me with all the possibilities once we get back to her house and the soft glow of candlelight will shine in her eyes as she breaks my balls about something stupid.
“Fuck,” I mutter, tossing the tablet in the passenger seat of the van before glancing up at her house. I’m losing my fucking mind over this woman. It’s not me and I’m in so fucking far over my head. Maybe, when this is all over, I’ll finally spend a night screwing her brains out and all this shit will pass so I can get back to my life.
Grabbing the tablet again, I scroll through the cameras until I find all four girls back in the living room with full wine glasses.
“Fuck Valentine’s Day,” Willow, one of Tate’s friends, says, holding her glass up in the air and Mia does the same.
“Here, here.”
Tate thrusts her glass above her head, almost spilling it on the white couch before pulling it back down and chugging half of it. My brow shoots up and I watch her as she leans back in the couch, a frown etched into her face. What the hell is up with her tonight?
A large part of me wants to jump out of this van and run in there to make sure she’s okay but I can’t do that. Damn it, this is so complicated. What happens when she finally finds out that I’ve been lying to her and spying on her all this time? She’ll hate me. The thought makes my chest ache and I rub over my t-shirt, trying to make it go away.
“Tate, what’s up with you tonight?” Lexi asks and I perk up, turning the volume up all the way on the tablet.
She shakes her head. “Nothing.”
“Uh, yeah right. Something is definitely wrong with you,” Mia says, plopping down next to her on the couch and pushing her hair out of her face. My fingers itch to do the same and I blow out a breath.
“It’s stupid.”
A wry smile stretches across Mia’s face. “Oh, so it’s a guy then.”
Tate nods but doesn’t say anything. I know she’s talking about me, though, and the thought that I’ve caused her any upset doesn’t sit well with me. Or maybe it’s not me. Is it possible that she’s been talking to someone else, too? The thought makes me growl.
“Is it the guy you had lunch with yesterday?”
Tate pushes her hand away and grabs her wine glass off the end table, chugging the rest before setting it on the end table. “It’s been so fucking long since I’ve felt like this about anyone and when I do, he’s the worst possible guy for me.”
I toss the tablet across the car and it hits the window before landing with a thump on the passenger seat. Thank God for the case Streak insisted I put on it.
“How is he the worst guy for you?” someone asks and as much as I want to turn it off, I can’t force myself to reach across the van and do it.
“Yeah, I mean, I wouldn’t say no to that yummy man,” Mia says. “That bad boy vibe just does it for me.”
“Me, too,” Tate adds. “That’s the problem. After high school and the pregnancy scare, I told myself when I decided to date again, I would pick a better guy. The kind of man that wouldn’t lie to me or cheat on me, the kind that would treat me like his whole world.”
I reach across the van, grabbing the tablet because I can’t not look at her any longer.
“And this guy can’t be that?”
“He’s the type that never sleeps with a girl more than a couple times and calls them all “baby” or “sweetheart” because he can’t be bothered to remember their names. He’s the kind of guy that always got me in trouble before and I want more than that now.”
Her words are spot on and they hit a mark she didn’t even realize she was aiming for. I suck in a breath, fighting back the memories but they flood in anyway – reminding me why I promised myself I would never get serious with a woman again. If I close my eyes, I can still smell the scent of that little church packed full of flowers as I stood in front of family and friends, waiting for a bride that was never coming.
My phone rings, snapping me out of my daze, and I turn the volume on the tablet down so I can answer it and drop it in the seat next to me. My baby sister Rowan’s name pops up on the screen and I groan.
“What do you want?” I ask, sounding annoyed despite the smile on my face.
“Well, it’s nice to talk to you, too, old man. Happy Valentine’s Day. You spending it with someone special?”
Rolling my eyes, I grab the tablet and watch Tate as she continues talking to her friends. I wish I knew what she was saying. “Very funny, Ro. You know that I don’t do that anymore.”
“Damn. I was really hoping this might be the year that a woman knocked you on your ass and made you realize what a fool you are.”
I know she’s teasing but the moment the words left her mouth, I pictured Tate. “Don’t count on that, baby sister.”
“Some day, Linc. Some day.”
“Yeah, yeah. What’s up with you? Did you need something?” I ask, glancing to the side mirror as a car drives past the van.
“Nope. Just wanted to talk to you. It’s been awhile.”
I nod. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy. How are you? How’s Mom?”
“We’re good, Linc. You should stop worrying so much.”
Sighing, I rub my hand over my face. “Taking care of the two of you is my responsibility.”
“No,” she snaps. “It’s not. You were a kid the same as Nora and me when Dad died. It’s not all on you and besides, I’m an adult now. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can but you have to know that I’m always here for you. All it takes is a text or phone call, Ro, and I’ll be on the next plane to Alaska. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”
She sighs. “When are you going to stop blaming yourself, Lincoln? You couldn’t have known.”
Tears sting my eyes and I shake my head as I ball up my fist. “Enough.”
“You’re right. I didn’t call to fight with you. Come home soon, okay? We miss you.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Good. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing then. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Ro. I’ll talk to you later.”
Hanging up, I release a sigh and lean back in my seat as I try to stamp down all the memories that Rowan brought up before grabbing the tablet and turning the volume up.
“Boys are stupid!” Lexi shouts, holding up another glass of wine and all the other girls follow suit. There’s one empty bottle laying on its side on the coffee table and the second is halfway gone already.
“Aw, hell,” I mutter. Tate is going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow. Though, the thought of nursing her back to health is appealing. With a smile teasing my lips, I scan the neighborhood again and jerk to a stop when I see a man sitting in his car behind me. From my vantage point, it seems like he’s watching Tate’s house as well but I can’t tell for sure. I reach for the door handle before thinking better of it and grabbing my phone to snap a picture of his license plate.
Blaze still wants me watching her and truthfully, I’m not ready to give her up yet so I can’t confront him out here without a damn good explanation for why I’m also sitting outside her house. One thing is for sure, though, I’m not leaving until I know she’s safe.
* * * *
“Hey, guys. Thanks for coming,” Rodriguez says, holding his hand up in greeting as Storm and I walk into the small apartment. We’ve been working with
Detective Rodriguez for a couple years now so when he called us for help with a case, we jumped into action. I do a quick scan of the apartment for Laney, the girl he called us here to watch over, but I don’t see here.
“What’s going on, brother?” Storm asks, stopping in front of the dining room table where Rodriguez has various papers and photos laid out in front of him. They shake hands and Rodriguez sighs.
“I wish I knew how to answer that question.”
I point to the papers. “Lay it out for us, man.”
“Two days ago, Laney came into the station and asked to speak to me. She wanted to know what could be done about the threatening phone calls she’d been getting and I started looking into it.”
I nod. “And what did you find?”
“Not a lot. But I’ve got this feeling in my gut that there is something going on here and I just need to find it.”
“Okay,” I murmur, looking over his evidence. One photo grabs my attention and I pull it out, showing it to him. “What’s this?”
“One of the phone calls came from a payphone a few blocks away and there are security cameras but either this guy knew about them or he just got really lucky.”
I stare down at the dark grainy image of a man’s figure and scowl. It’s definitely weird.
“What is he saying on the calls?”
“In the beginning, nothing. He would just call her and breathe on the other end of the line, real creepy shit like that. Then, he started telling her how beautiful she was and how much he liked her outfit that day – stuff to let her know that he truly was watching her. Just before she came into the station, he called her beautiful again and said it would be a shame when he had to kill her.”
“Jesus Christ,” Storm whispers, rubbing his hand across his jaw as I shake my head. That’s some sick shit.
“Where is she?”
“Sleeping right now but I’ll wake her up before I leave and introduce you guys.”
I rifle through some more papers, my mind working over the facts he’s already given us. “Is there any indication that he’s shown up here at her apartment?”
