4. Lincoln
4
LINCOLN
I watched those perfect berry lips part in shock as I climbed out of my SUV, the mental dots connecting as I strode toward the woman who, through a process of elimination, I now knew was Arden. And then the heat settled in—that smoky flare of fire in her gray-violet eyes. Anger might have put it there, but that didn’t make the burn any less beautiful to watch.
“You knew who I was,” Arden accused.
I held up both hands in mock surrender. “Not at first. I was just going to the gym—one my good friend here always talks about.” I glanced at Cope. “Thanks for that, by the way.”
He tried to cover his laugh with a cough. “Sorry.”
“He snuck up on me ,” Arden defended.
Cope pinned her with a stare I recognized: a big brother exasperated with his little sister. “And how loud was your music?”
Pink hit the apples of Arden’s cheeks, and it somehow made her look even more beautiful. “Not that loud.”
“Not sure it qualifies as music,” I added .
She glared in my direction, and Cope chuckled as he shook his head. “Pierces your eardrums, huh?”
“Like someone took an ice pick to my skull,” I agreed.
“You two clearly have no taste.” Arden turned to her brother. “I need to get back to work, and you need to get off your feet.”
Cope’s face twisted with a hint of annoyance. “I’m fine.”
“And I will be, too.” She moved into his space, stretching up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Be safe, please. I like you in one piece.”
“I’ll do my best,” Cope said. “But you might want to know something first.”
“What’s that? You gave the other half of your house to the starting line of Seattle’s football team?” Arden called, walking backward away from us both.
“Sutton’s going to marry me.”
It was like some invisible force hit Arden, causing joy to slide over her features. But it was joy laced with pain. And I couldn’t figure out where the pain had come from.
“You’re gonna have a beautiful life, Copey,” she called and then turned, jogging away, her giant dog trailing behind her.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she headed toward what I assumed was her art studio. Cope never shut up about the sister who lived in the guesthouse on his property and made captivating art that people clamored over. But he’d conveniently left out the fact that she was the most stunning human being on the planet. Figured.
Finally, I forced my gaze away from where she’d disappeared and glanced back at my friend. “Big news, huh, Copey ?”
“Oh, fuck off,” he muttered.
I chuckled. “Seriously, I’m happy for you, man. You more than deserve this.”
Cope’s gaze moved from me to the pasture that currently held the two people he loved most in this world. “I didn’t always believe that. But thanks to Sutton, I’m starting to.”
Hell, if that didn’t hit me right in the solar plexus. I honestly wasn’t sure I’d ever known a love with the power to create change like that. I loved my little sister, Ellie, fiercely, but it was a protective love. My mom had done her best, but the tyrant who ran our household had crushed her spirit over the years. The beautiful memories I had of her were coated in an acid that made them hard to endure. And the man I should’ve called Dad sure as hell didn’t love anyone but himself.
“Linc? You okay?”
I blinked a few times to clear away the memories that felt like a combination of smoky tendrils I couldn’t quite grasp, and shards of glass I couldn’t clear away fast enough. “I’m good. Just happy you found this.”
His expression eased a fraction. “Then maybe that will put you in a good enough mood to do me a favor.”
“Cope. You’re letting me stay in your house while I work on building mine. I’ll do whatever you need.” The moment he’d offered up his stunning mountain oasis, I’d jumped at the chance. Not that I couldn’t afford to rent something while we got the project started, but whatever I found wouldn’t be this close to the siren’s orbit.
Cope paused for a moment as if choosing his words carefully. “Watch out for Arden while I’m gone?”
Tension wove its way around my muscles, tightening every strand of sinew. “She in some sort of trouble?” Between the knife this morning, the hulking guard dog, and Cope’s request, I didn’t have a good feeling.
“No,” he said quickly. “It’s not like that. She just…my getting shot was hard on her. I wouldn’t mind someone being around for a while.”
Everything started to fall into place. Her need to protect herself. Being extra jumpy. But something still niggled. A piece of the puzzle didn’t fit, and I wanted to figure it out. Only the desire was bordering on need at this point.
“Of course. I’ll make sure she has my number, too. Just in case.”
“Thanks, man,” Cope said, one corner of his mouth kicking up. “Try not to get stabbed, though.”
“You just worry about getting my star player back on the ice,” I shot back. But it was so much more than that. I wanted my best friend to truly heal .
“Yeah, yeah,” Cope muttered. “I think you’ve still got a little scab right there from my little sister kicking your ass.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks for the reminder.” I started heading toward the art studio as Sutton and Luca ducked through the fence rails. “Travel safe.”
“Thanks for letting us use your plane,” he called back.
“Anytime.” I turned, moving with a single-minded focus now. The guesthouse and studio perfectly complemented the main house with their mixture of reddish wood, stone, and glass. The design made me eager to work with Cope’s brother, Shep, who had executed the builds here.
But I couldn’t stay focused on that, the properties I’d be viewing tomorrow, or the meeting with Shep to talk about the design. Because my mind wouldn’t let go of thoughts of the woman with the haunted eyes. The walking juxtaposition. Hard and soft. Quiet and loud. Light and dark.
Those opposites in one human being tugged at me and made me want to know how both resided so fully in one person. But more than that, it made me want to know why .
As I rounded the guesthouse, a retro truck came into view. A red Ford F-150, likely dating back to somewhere in the late seventies. The paint job was rusted in spots, and there were more than a few dings, but it somehow only gave the vehicle more character. And I only became more intrigued with its owner.
I walked up the workshop steps, and as I lifted my hand to knock, I noticed a camera tucked into the eaves. Interesting. I knew Cope had plenty of security on his property, so it made sense for him to extend that to his sister’s place. Still, something gnawed at me. Something didn’t quite fit.
My knuckles connected with the door three times. There was no answer. Nothing but angry strains of music from within the space.
This time, I tried the doorbell. I thought I heard a deep woof from inside, and then the music cut off. I waited, some phantom energy starting to buzz through my muscles.
The door flew open, and I was met with an adorable scowl. “Yes?”
Something about her expression only made me want to grin more. “Wanted to give you my number.”
The violet in those siren’s eyes flashed brighter. “Why would I need that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. In case you want me to kill a spider. Or fight off an axe murderer.”
Arden let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “I relocate the spiders outside, and if an axe murderer shows up, I’m offering you up as a sacrifice.”
I only smiled wider. “You’re brutal.”
She lifted a shoulder and then let it drop. “The truth hurts.”
I slid a card out of my wallet and handed it to her. “In case you want to give me over to any axe murderers. Or need help with your horses or something.”
Arden arched a dark brow. “You a secret cowboy?”
I chuckled. “You never know. Either way, I’m good with grunt labor.”
Arden tapped the card against her thigh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” When I made no move to leave, she sighed. “What else do you need, Lincoln?”
Hell.
The way she said my name… There was a slight grit to her voice, a realness I couldn’t get enough of.
“You mean besides medical treatment from my eventful morning?” I asked, amusement lacing the words.
Arden’s cheeks flushed pink, and fuck, it made her look even more beautiful. I wanted to follow that blush and see what I could do to make it spread.
“You won’t sneak up on me next time,” she shot back.
My gaze flicked from her to the dog behind her and back again. “Definitely not. ”
Arden didn’t look away, and our gazes locked, held. “Lincoln?—”
“Linc,” I corrected. “My friends call me Linc.”
“And me almost impaling you on my switchblade makes us besties?” she asked.
I fought the smile that wanted to stretch across my face. “We’ve definitely got a bond.” My fingers lifted to touch the tiny scab on my neck. “Cemented in blood.”
The blush disappeared from her face in a flash, her skin taking on an almost gray hue.
I muttered a curse. “Sorry. Squeamish around blood?”
“Something like that,” she muttered, taking a step back. “What do you really want, Linc? I’m working.”
The moment she uttered my nickname, I found I missed the sound of the full thing on her lips. The way her tongue caressed each syllable. I cleared my throat, trying to get a hold of myself. “I wanted to see about buying one of your pieces.”
Surprise lit in those hypnotizing eyes. “You know my art?”
“Is that really so surprising? You’ve built quite a name for yourself, and your brother won’t shut up about how talented you are. I looked up your site a while ago. Been meaning to reach out about an acquisition.”
That wasn’t the entire truth. It had started as simple curiosity and then grew into an obsession. Her artwork was like nothing I’d ever seen: haunting and captivating all at once. Looking at it felt like staring into a beautiful nightmare, but something about it made me feel seen somehow. As if she’d plucked my demons from my mind and put them on canvas or sculpted them out of metal. Even her charcoal drawings felt three-dimensional somehow.
I’d found myself bookmarking the page, checking back time after time. I’d memorized every piece of information on the site, but all it left me with was a mystery that never released its hold. The bio was purposely vague, not even giving her actual location. There was no photo of Arden. Only her art. But I was like a man starved for any morsel I could get.
It had been a jolt this morning when I realized that the woman who held me spellbound at the gym was the same one whose art had long held me in a chokehold. Somehow, meeting her only added to the mystery.
Arden stared at me. “If you’ve seen my site, you know I sell through a gallery in town. They’re your best bet for purchasing.”
“What about a custom piece? My new house. I’d like something that fits perfectly in that space.” I was pushing and knew it, but I was greedy for even a few more seconds with her.
Annoyance flashed across Arden’s expression as she shoved my card into her jeans pocket. “The billionaire’s building yet another house. Color me shocked.”
Interesting.
I knew from my friendship with Cope that the Colsons weren’t exactly struggling. But I also had no idea what had brought Arden to live with them. Maybe she’d struggled growing up and had something against those who carelessly threw their money around.
But I knew better than anyone that money didn’t guarantee happiness. It didn’t protect you from pain or loss. It did create ease that came in handy. And I wasn’t about to apologize for that.
“Consider it my way of helping the local economy,” I said, watching as she stepped back and turned to face the canvas.
Strands of her dark brown hair were starting to spill from her bun, showing hints of the ferocity she clearly had at times. “I don’t do commissions.”
Even more interesting.
“Name your price.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself. Tipping my hand yet again.
Arden whirled around, her eyes flashing pure violet. “I’m not for sale.”
Oh, hell.
“I wasn’t suggesting you were.”
“Weren’t you?” Arden pressed. “No rules apply to you, do they? You think you can flash your money, and the answer will always be yes .”
“Arden—”
“My art isn’t something to be controlled. I’m not something to be controlled.” She tapped the screen on her phone, and ear-splitting rock filled the speakers again. “You know the way back to the main house.”
Arden turned back to the canvas, dismissing me entirely. And I didn’t blame her. I’d royally stepped in it.
I glanced down at the gray beast standing between us. The dog glared up at me as if to say, “ Get moving, pal .” I didn’t blame him.
Sighing, I stepped into the late-morning sun. It was already at least eighty and would soon be tipping even hotter. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I slid it out.
Philip Pierce
We have not received your RSVP for your sister’s wedding. Please rectify this immediately.
The slap of the text was a visceral thing. Far worse than the sting of Arden’s blade against my neck. My back teeth ground together as I stared at the words. It was a jerk on an invisible choke collar, and we both knew it.
The DNA donor known as my father was used to getting what he wanted by any means necessary. It was why he’d cut me off at age eighteen when I refused to follow in his footsteps. It was why my sister bowed to his every whim, even down to choosing the man she was set to marry in a matter of weeks. And it was why my mom no longer drew breath.
It didn’t matter how much I loved Ellie and wanted her to know I was there for her no matter what. I couldn’t spend a week at our estate in the Hamptons pretending I didn’t hate Philip Pierce with every fiber of my being.
I locked my phone, shoved it into my pocket, and breathed deeply. The scent of pine trees and fresh air filled my lungs. As I looked around at the place Cope had carved out for himself in the world, I understood why he’d chosen to build here.
The vastness and wide-open spaces reminded me to breathe, which was exactly why I was going to build my next chapter here. Away from the pressures of the city, my father, and everything else.