I shook my head, but she held up her hand. “It was a mistake. A novice inspector going overboard. I have rectified the situation.”
“Linc,” I mumbled.
She cleared her throat. “Ah, yes. Mr. Webber. I saw him earlier today—we had an eye-opening chat. Cleared the air, so to speak. I do hope he changes his mind and returns to Mission Cove.” She crossed her arms, staring at me meaningfully. “He is always welcome here.”
I didn’t understand. What had happened?
“He is so much like his mother.” She paused, and I was certain she almost smiled. “Nothing like his father. Nothing.” Then she turned. “I have to go to the dry-cleaning store now. More errors to follow up on. The work of the deputy mayor is never done, you know. My citizens need to be cared for.” She lifted her hand and disappeared.
I stare after her, blinking.
What had transpired between her and Linc? Something big—but not what I feared, judging from her demeanor. It wasn’t friendly, but the hostility was gone—or at least lessened.
Her words rang through my head. “Nothing like his father. Nothing.”
I had to find out what happened. I needed to talk to Linc.
Except, Abby had told me he was leaving. I had heard him walk out this morning, my heart breaking as I turned my back on him before I lost my nerve and ran to him, begging once more for him to choose us over doing what he felt he had to do. Choosing the light he so often said I was to him, over the dark.
Abby came up beside me, and I handed her the form. “We can stop cleaning now.”
“Did he…?” Her voice trailed off.
“I don’t think so.”
“What happened?”
I yanked off my apron. “I don’t know, but I have to find out. I need to get to him before he leaves, Abby, or I may never see him again.”
She pressed her keys into my hand. “Go.”
I drove up the hill, my heart in my mouth. Linc’s car wasn’t in the driveway, but the front door stood open. I ran inside, heading to the den. I stopped in the doorway, horrified at the sight before me. The room was wrecked—the desk overturned, the chair smashed. Pictures were torn off the walls, flung around. The fireplace was wet, rivulets of water running onto the expensive floors and carpet, a pile of sodden ash in the grate.
What the hell had happened here?
I dialed Abby, panicked. “He’s not here,” I gasped. “The den is wrecked, his car is gone.” A sob escaped. “He’s gone.”
“Wait,” she instructed.
I looked around the room, noticing the metal box Linc had dug my letters from open and lying on its side. I bent and looked inside. It was empty. Another smaller box was upside down on the rug. I didn’t touch it.
“Okay, we track each other’s cell. He’s still in the area. East of you. He’s stationary.”
“East? Oh god, I know where he is.”
“Go to him, Sunny. He thinks he’s lost you.”
“I’m on my way.”
Linc’s car was parked on the deserted area of land by the park. I hurried toward the ridge, frowning at the rhythmic sound that grew louder as I approached.
Linc was sitting in our hideaway, a pile of USB drives in front of him. He had a large rock in his hand, a look of determination on his face as he pounded the small pieces of metal into tiny, broken fragments. Soot streaked his face, one hand showing an angry burn. He was so focused, he didn’t even notice me at first. When he met my eyes, the heartbreak and pain in his gaze would forever be embedded in my mind.
“All gone. All of his dirty, horrible secrets gone,” he raged, his expression wild.
“Linc,” I murmured. “I was at the house—what happened?”
“I couldn’t do it. I tried—fuck—I tried. But I can’t.” He held up a mangled piece of metal. “I can’t be the kind of person who does these things to people. Lord their mistakes over their heads, makes them pay over and again for a moment in their life they want to forget.”
“I know,” I soothed. “It’s okay, Linc. You made the right choice.”
“We all make mistakes. He made mistakes, but no one ever took the great Franklin Thomas to task.”
“I know,” I repeated. “You don’t have to do anything for me, Linc, except be Linc.”
“It was never enough for him!” he roared. “My mother tried. Jesus, Sunny, I’ve remembered things—the fights, her pleading with him to come back to her. The way he would sneer and call her weak.” He rubbed his face, ignoring the fact that he smeared the soot even more. “And all the time he was fucking around on her.” His voice dropped. “And I don’t think it was only with the mayor’s wife.”
“You aren’t him,” I said and, with a bravado I wasn’t feeling, grabbed his hand, stilling his frantic movements. “You. Are. Not. Your. Father,” I repeated slowly.
He stopped, blinking. “No. I am my mother’s son.”
“Yes.” I dared to inch closer, pressing my knee to his. “You are. You are Lincoln Webber. You have so much good in you.”
“I’ll help if you let me, Sunny. I can wash walls, fix things. I’ll have my lawyer there when they come back, and we’ll fight it. Let me do that. Let me do something,” he pleaded. “Tell me I didn’t lose you.” He hung his head, his shoulders slumping. “I-I can’t take it if I did that.”
I took advantage of his sudden stillness and crawled into his lap. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him as tightly as I could. He buried his face in my breasts, enfolding me in his embrace. “Sunny,” he whispered brokenly.
I slid my hands around to his shoulders, running them up the tightly corded muscles of his neck. I cupped his face, forcing him to meet my eyes.
“I’m here, Linc. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
He stared up at me, blinking. “You still love me?”
“I never stopped.”
He yanked me to him, holding me so tight, I could barely breathe. It was as if he couldn’t get close enough. I touched my mouth to his ear.
“I love you,” I promised, over and again. I had a feeling he needed to hear me say it. I wouldn’t stop until he believed me.
He gripped me, his shoulder shaking with the force of his emotions. Incoherent words fell from his lips. I didn’t try to make sense of them. I knew he had to get them out, not let them fester. I let him rage until he was spent. A long shudder went through him. I dropped more kisses to his head, stroked his neck, and held him. Slowly, I felt him return, the feeling around us changing, growing—becoming heated.
His body trembled, his already tight embrace turning into a vise. “Sunny,” he moaned. “I need you.” I could feel his need in the tightness of his body, the desperation in his voice, and the rigidness of his cock pressed between us.
“Yes,” I gasped. “I need you, Linc. Now.”
I tore open his shirt, wanting to feel his skin. I reached between us, yanking on his belt, tearing the material as I pulled and grasped at the closure and zipper. I reached inside, his hot cock filling my hand. He groaned as I stroked him.
Linc’s large hands delved under the cotton shorts I had worn to clean the bakery, and with a low growl, he tore them off my body. I hadn’t bothered with underwear this morning. I gasped as the cool air met my skin. He grasped my buttocks, cupping them, stroking and squeezing. “Sunny,” he mumbled over and again. “Inside you. I need inside you.”
“Up,” I commanded, marveling at the ease with which he lifted his body and mine off the hard ground just enough so I could pull his pants down to free his cock. Seconds later, he was inside me, one hard thrust making us both cry out. He slid his hand up my back, burying it in my hair, holding the nape of my neck. He fastened his other hand on my hip, using it to guide me. I buried my face in his neck, moaning in long gasps at the sensation of him filling me.
There was nothing tender or sweet in our actions. This wasn’t making love. This was our possession of each other. Our need to feel something besides sadness and pain.
>
We moved together wildly. Pushed and pulled. Gave and took. My body was on fire for him, and Linc was frantic in his desire. He groaned and cursed, guided me up and down, pulled my face to his to kiss me, his tongue mimicking what his cock was doing to me. He gripped my shirt so hard I felt the seams rend, and I wondered if either of us would make it out of this with any clothes left intact. His suit was ruined, my clothes in tatters.
It didn’t matter.
He pulled back, our gazes locking. Passion, want, need bled from his eyes. So did love. I could feel it soak into my skin as we stared. His expression was fierce, his need rampant, but the Linc I knew, the one I loved so desperately, was still there—with me.
The moment was powerful—life-changing for us both.
Then his body locked down, and he pulled me to him, shuddering, filling me. His orgasm kicked off mine, and I cried out, my walls clamping down, my body spasming. Through it all, Linc held me close, his voice now tender, the sweep of his hand gentle. I collapsed into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me securely. I felt his lips pressing to my head repeatedly, soft words being crooned as we slowly returned to earth. Returned to us.
I shivered as a cool breeze drifted around us, and Linc sat up, reaching for his jacket. He pulled it around me, then gathered me up in his arms again.
For a moment, there was only the sound of his rapid heartbeat under my ear, then he chuckled.
I lifted my head. “What?”
“I have never done a walk of shame before, but I’m pretty sure this one will be epic.”
I glanced down. My shorts were in shreds, my shirt so badly stretched it hung off my shoulders. Linc’s shirt was torn and dirty, his pants covered in grass and mud, hundreds of small tears in them from the rocks. I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips. “Oops.”
“You can wait here, and I’ll go to the car and grab some things. We can change before we head back into town.”
I snuggled back into his chest. “Not yet.”
He stroked my hair, his voice low and tender. “Okay, Sunny-girl. When you’re ready.”
I couldn’t look at him. “You’re not-you’re not leaving now, right?”
He tightened his arms. “No. I am never leaving you. I’m not complete without you, Sunny.” He sighed. “I’ll stay and help you whatever way I can. Legally.”
I lifted my head. “What happened, Linc? I saw the den.”
He exhaled, pulled me to him and rested his chin on my head. “I couldn’t threaten Martha. I tried, but the thought made me ill. I kept hearing your voice, and I knew you were right. If I did that today, I was well on my way to becoming my father. So I gave her the pictures and let her burn them. She told me she knew my mother at school, and I was like her. I had never heard that before. I started thinking, remembering things. Fights, angry words, my mother pleading with my father to come back to her. I was too young to understand, but now the words make sense.”
He paused, and I trailed my fingers over his skin. “What happened next?”
“I got angry. With him. With everything. I took it out on his office—he valued it more than me or my mother, so I destroyed it. I wanted it ruined before the house is gone. When the desk overturned, I found another hidden box with more documents, pictures. I burned them all. It got a little out of control, and I had to get a bucket or two of water to put out the fire. I was going to let it spread, but I knew the fire department would arrive before the house totally burned, so I put it out.”
“Good choice.” I touched his hand. “Is that how you burned yourself?”
“Yeah, one of the embers landed on me.” He chuckled, the sound low and dark. “I really want to watch that place implode.”
I let that go. He was entitled.
“Then I had to get out of there. I was upset, disgusted, and furious. With him. With myself. I think-I think I lost it. I came here and decided to destroy the drives and get rid of them forever.” He paused. “I don’t even remember driving here.”
He swallowed. “All I could think of was I lost you. I loved you so much and you were gone again and, this time, I wouldn’t be able to get you back. You would never trust me again.”
He glanced down. “Then you came. Why did you come, Sunny?”
With a sigh, I pulled back and told him. About the bakery. Mrs. Tremont’s unexpected visit. Going to the house. Racing to get here, desperate to find him.
“She removed the notice?”
“Yes. On Michael’s store as well.”
He frowned. “Do you think she still felt threatened?”
“No,” I replied honestly. “I think she realized the past is done and it was time to let go of grudges and move on.” I regarded him. “Can you do that, Linc?”
He studied me, then ran his fingers down my cheek. “The one past I want to cling to is ours, Sunny. And I want the future that goes with it.” He swallowed. “Can you do that? Can we?”
I smiled, feeling the weight of the past few days lift from my shoulders.
“Yes.”
23
Sunny
Linc and I stayed wrapped around each other for over thirty minutes. We didn’t talk, but simply held on, needing the closeness. Finally, he broke the silence.
“Are you scared to leave, Sunny? Afraid of what will happen once we go back to the world outside this little nook?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “I am.”
He tilted up my chin, meeting my eyes. “Nothing bad, Sunny. I promise. We’ll find our way together. I promise. You ready to be brave with me?”
“All right.”
He smirked. “Good. Because my ass is numb and frozen, and it might take a while to get out of here anyway.”
That made my lips twitch.
“My legs don’t have any feeling either,” he admitted, barely holding back his amusement.
I began to chuckle.
“This walk of shame is going to look like a drunken stumble.”
Then we both laughed, the sound freeing and loud. It felt good to let go and enjoy the moment. I pushed off his chest and stood, giggling when I realized how unsteady I was. Linc followed, grimacing as he stood, grasping at the rocks around us. “Holy shit,” he mumbled. “Pins and needles.”
We spent a few moments shaking out our arms and legs. He yanked up his pants, buckling his belt and tucking in his shirt. He was still a mess, covered in grass, dirt, his hair windblown and wild, soot across his face. But his expression was peaceful. Content. It startled me to realize it was the first time I had ever seen him look at ease since he came back into my life. The look of wariness and worry was gone from his expression.
He regarded me, his eyes wide. “Wow—I did a number on you.”
I looked down. My shorts were in shreds on my legs, my shirt barely covering my chest. He held out his jacket. “Put this back on.”
I slid into the jacket, trying not to giggle as he buttoned it up. I looked down at the ground. “What do you want to do with those?” I indicated the pile of mangled metal. They were already destroyed, but I knew he didn’t want to leave them here.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Not sure.”
I bent and gathered them up, stuffing them back into the envelope Linc handed me. “Let me take care of it, Linc. You destroyed them. Now let it go.”
He hesitated, his hand already reaching out for the envelope. I met his gaze—mine sure and steady, telling him to trust me. Give me this task and let me share the burden.
His hand fell and he nodded. “Do what you think is best.”
“I will.” I already knew what I would do with them. There was a loose floorboard in the hallway at the house on the hill. I would bury them under the floorboard, and when the house disappeared, so would they. He would never have to think about them again. I stuffed the envelope into the pocket of his suit jacket. “Thank you for trusting me.”
His smile was warm, his lips cool as he pressed them to mine. “Always. Thank you for bei
ng here with me.”
“Always,” I repeated.
He straightened, indicating I should stay where I was, and I tried not to laugh again as he peered around the corner, disappearing, then his hand appearing. “Coast is clear, Sunny. Let’s go.”
I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me around the corner and we hurried toward his car. He pushed me into the back seat, then grabbed his bag from the trunk and joined me. He dug around, handing me a pair of sweats and a shirt, finding a set for himself. We changed, and he grunted as he bundled his suit into a ball.
“So much for that one.” Then he glanced my way, his expression warm. “So worth it.”
I giggled. “Odd we’re in our favorite spot and we’re putting clothes on. It used to be the opposite.”
He smirked. “God, I lived for those moments you’d let me stick my hand under your shirt. Your tits fascinated me.” He leered at me. “They still do.”
“If it wasn’t light out and this wasn’t a public parking lot, I might let you cop a feel again, Linc.”
He winked. “I might anyway.”
A car pulled into the parking lot, and we both laughed.
“Damn,” he muttered. “Cockblocked.” Then for the first time, he noticed Abby’s SUV. “What is that doing there?”
“It was closer and faster than the bakery van.”
“I’m buying you a car.”
“I don’t think so.”
“As your husband, it’s my right to buy you anything I damn well want.”
“You’re not my husband, Linc.”
“Not yet,” he agreed. “But that is going to change.”
“Oh really?”
He nodded, his voice firm when he spoke. “Soon.”
With a grin, I opened the door and stepped out, heading over to Abby’s vehicle. Linc stepped out of the car, watching me.
“If that’s your idea of a proposal, Mr. Webber, you are sadly lacking. I will have to say no to your tempting offer at the moment.”
He leaned on his door, a wide grin on his face. “If that tempted you, just wait. You won’t be able to resist.”
The Summer of Us (Mission Cove Book 1) Page 20
