18. Josie
josie
. . .
Lincoln leaned against the door jamb, smiling. His white tee was dirty, caked with what looked—and smelled—like motor oil and grease. Dirt stained fingers fiddled with a sheet of paper in his hands.
“I know I have a few years on you, but old man?” He clutched at his chest. “That’s a deep wound.”
“Obviously, I wasn’t talking about you,” I muttered, nodding at whatever he held. “What’s that?”
“You know how Bishop was on my ass last week about turning in my timesheet for payroll?”
I leaned forward, crossing my arms over the desk. “Uh-huh.”
“And you know how I told him time and again that I’d turn it in by Friday morning?”
“Yup.”
His eyes dropped to the paper. “Well, I might’ve forgotten to do that.”
“Shocker,” I said, holding my hand out. “Give it here.”
Lincoln stepped inside. “You see, in a roundabout way… This is your fault. ”
“My fault? How is it my fault?”
He dropped into the chair in front of me, even though I don’t remember inviting him to stay. “Yeah, you were too damn distracting in those little denim shorts?—”
“I know you’re not about to blame my clothing for your actions,” I said, sitting back in my chair.
His face fell. “No, no, no, not like that. I mean—shit. It was supposed to be a joke?—”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly, those are my favorite shorts. I’d have been distracted too.” I took the paper from his hands. “I can go ahead and get this in, but your check will be late. I can try to get it to you by midweek, though.”
“It’s fine. I’ve got everything I need here.” Lincoln stared at me with unwavering conviction as I met his gaze. He wasn’t talking about groceries or vices.
He was talking about me.
“What’s got you working on a Sunday?” he asked, scanning the papers along the desk. I tried to pull them together into a pile, but he snagged the top page before I could stop him. “Financial records, huh? I hated staring at those for the bar. Frank couldn’t keep the books for shit. It took me months to sort them out.”
“You kept the books for the bar? I didn’t know that.”
Lincoln smiled, but it wasn’t the one I’d grown used to. “You’d run off before I had the chance to tell you, but yeah, I did most of the day-to-day shit. Frank was more of a silent partner, which meant I told him when I needed money to fix something around the bar and he watched me while drinking his stock.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how the bar lasted as long as it did. Frank never tracked his expenses and was a risky investor. He was always coming to me with an opportunity some young buck pitched him.”
“Did he ever move forward with them?”
“Sometimes. There were a few he was able to pull back after talking with a financial advisor, but a lot of it was a loss.” Lincoln met my gaze over the paper. “Hypothetically speaking, is that something you’re dealing with?”
I tapped my fingers against the desk, wondering how much I could tell him. Anything I said would stay between us, I knew that. Lincoln was a locked vault, loyal until the end. It was a long shot, but he did have more experience looking at this than I did.
Giving him a brief rundown hadn’t taken long, and Lincoln hung onto every word. He asked questions, some of which I had no answers to. By the time I was done, he glanced around the office with furrowed brows. “Mind if I take a look?”
“Be my guest,” I said, tipping my chin to motion him behind the desk.
The only problem? It seemed to have slipped my mind at how little space I had. There was no way to avoid him, no way to escape the thick diesel scent that clung to his clothes. He leaned over my shoulder, taking control of the mouse and scrolling through the documents.
“Did Charles say when this began?” he asked.
I shook my head. “He wasn’t clear. Just said that my father had wanted to diversify his portfolio a few years back and he’d advised against it. Dad swears he didn’t do anything outside of the agency, so…” I shrugged. “All signs point to something happening along the way. Charles says he’s going to get to the bottom of it.”
“Do you believe him?” His breath fanned out against the back of my neck, and I fought to keep my composure.
“I do. It might be foolish, but?—”
“It’s not,” he said, cutting me off. “Sometimes you’ve got to trust your gut, and if it’s telling you it wasn’t Charles, then you best believe it.”
I turned in my chair to look at him, wondering if he would move. No matter how inappropriate the thought might be, I hoped he stayed. His presence was comforting, like a warm blanket on a cold night. I wanted to wrap myself in his arms and listen to him tell me it was going to be okay. I wanted to believe that it would be.
“I don’t know what I believe anymore. Up is down and east is west. It tears me up that Dad’s been affected. He feels like he can’t turn to his best friend,” I whispered, uttering the confession in the limited space between us.
What would it feel like to run my fingers through his hair again? It’d always been so thick, the coloring slightly lighter than my own. But there was more grey than I remembered, a smattering that started at his temples and worked its way back. It was the first time I’d seen him without a hat since I’d left Tennessee.
“Doug’s lucky to have a daughter like you, you know? Don’t get me wrong, your sisters are great, but you’re something else. You fight for the ones you love with everything you have. It’s admirable.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling heat creep up along my neck. “No, they’ve done a lot more than me. I’m just trying to contribute what I can.
Lincoln scanned my face, eyes softening. “You’ve got to stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
He tilted his head. “Putting yourself down like that. You did it when I first met you, too. Seems like you haven’t grown out of it. We’ve got to break that habit.”
I pulled my lip between my teeth, unable to hide the crushing weight of his stare. The way he said ‘ we’ caused goosebumps to break out along my skin. It was decadent. An ardent promise. It was yet another sign that Lincoln had no intention of leaving this ranch without putting up a fight.
Despite my weak insistence that what we had was over and done with, it wasn’t. My heart still beat in that erratic, lovesick way it always did when he was around. No matter how much he pissed me off or pushed me, Lincoln had this uncanny way of soothing the horrible negative voice in my head.
It would’ve been so easy to tell him as much; to let him know with brutal clarity that as reckless of an idea it might be, I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone in my life.
But at the end of the day, I had to remember that he would leave. He had a life back in Tennessee, something he seemed to enjoy. I couldn’t ask him to give that up, could I? Because if our roles were reversed, I couldn’t see myself leaving Black Springs behind.
Lincoln reached up, gently running the rough pad of his thumb along my bottom lip. His gaze dropped, hungrily watching as he slowly applied pressure. When it popped from between my teeth, he let out a low groan. “You’re gonna get me in trouble, darlin’. I’m supposed to be a gentleman, and you’ve got me thinking about being everything but.”
Fire, Josie… You’re playing with fire.
“Like what?” I asked. My voice was unrecognizable, and I was a quivering mess. It took every effort not to rock myself forward, searching for friction. “What’re you thinking about right now?”
Lincoln’s eyes trailed down my body, lingering on the spot between my legs before flicking back up. He leaned in, causing my breathing to hitch as I felt the rough stubble brush along my cheek. “Break up with that piece of shit you call a boyfriend, and I’ll tell you every sordid detail. Then, when you’re writhing underneath me, just like you are right now, I’ll make good on every word I said.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
My mind told me I should be repulsed, that I should push him away and scold him for speaking to me like he did, but my body… My body was another thing entirely. I ached for his touch, longed to feel the punishing bruise of his kiss. It was madness, and it was taking me under .
He pulled away, smirking because when I looked straight ahead, I was eye-level with his dick. His very hard dick. I could see the outline of it through his jeans, suddenly struck with just how long it’d been since I’d been with anyone.
And how it’d been Lincoln.
“Lincoln…”
My words died as I heard the click of shoes against concrete in the barn alley. It didn’t belong to anyone on the ranch. I knew the heavy thud of boots like I knew the sound of my own voice. Lincoln recognized it too, quickly stepping back just in time for Ellis to walk around the corner.