12. Lincoln
12
LINCOLN
Pulling into the drive, I wondered for the millionth time on the way over what I’d agreed to. Was I out of my mind? The fear that this could all come crashing down around me was real. As scary as it was, deep down I knew this could be my chance at something real. Something I thought was out of my reach and would be for a long time.
I wanted that chance. Wanted to be more than the guy who went to swim every morning, went to work, then came home and watched TV. It was lonely. I’d been lonely for a while now. Just like I imagined living out here in the woods alone could be lonely too. But Devon had more of a social life than I did. He probably didn’t have to deal with being by himself all the time.
With butterflies in my stomach, I climbed from the truck and pushed the bell when I reached the door. Only a few moments passed when the door opened, heat from the inside hitting me in the face. That wasn’t the only heat radiating from the house. Devon looked gorgeous.
Suddenly, I felt very underdressed in my dark jeans and black-button down. I’d dressed up for his parents’ house, thinking it was a work function. Tonight, I thought would be a little more informal with just the two of us. Guess I’d been wrong. I wasn’t going to worry about it though. It was the least of my problems.
“Lincoln, I’m so glad you could make it. Come in.” Devon stepped back, inviting me in. As I walked farther into the foyer, Devon shut the door behind me. “Can I take your coat?” He held his hand out and it all seemed very formal. Not what I’d been expecting.
Devon walked my coat over to the closet and hung it inside. I glanced around his home, taking in the welcoming feel to the place. Even the dark brown hardwood floors lent to the warmth being inside exuded. “Thanks for inviting me and being patient. Your house is gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” He looked around and shrugged. “It’s home.” He gestured toward the living room where the entire place opened up. I could see the dining room and kitchen from where we stood next to a fireplace. “Can I get you a drink? Beer? Wine? Water?”
“Water, please. I don’t drink.”
Devon turned toward the kitchen going right for a cabinet, taking two glasses down. He filled both with ice water and brought one over to me. All his movements seemed stiff and rigid. It was like he was even more nervous than he was at his parents’ house.
“You can have a drink if you’d like. It doesn’t bother me.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t really drink either. I keep it in the house for others. Want to sit? We can talk while dinner finishes cooking.”
I took a seat on one of the couches while Devon sat opposite me. His knee bounced up and down as he took a sip of his water, and I was afraid he might spill it all over himself.
“It’s so quiet out here.”
“I can turn on some music if you’d like.” He started to stand up and I stopped him.
“I’m fine. I like the quiet. It’s peaceful.” That seemed to freeze Devon up even more, like he was afraid I didn’t like hearing him talk. Quite the opposite actually, I loved his smooth tenor.
Shit, I needed to find a way to make him relax. He didn’t need to feel nervous around me. Then I thought back to the dinner with his parents. He seemed to settle and open up as soon as his dad brought up the hockey game. I’d watched the one the night before, and even though they lost, it was all I had.
“Great game last night. Sorry you guys lost.”
“Me too. We’d been on a winning streak until then, but I’m hoping we can get back to it with the next game.”
“Thinking of another Stanley Cup run?”
“Fuck, I hope so. We’ve worked really hard this season.” A timer went off from somewhere in the kitchen. Devon looked back toward the white cabinets. “Dinner’s ready. If you want, sit at the table and I’ll bring dinner out.” He offered a quick smile.
Some of the stiffness seemed to return to his posture and even his speech. All very formal. Almost like the hockey pushed his brain in a different direction. One where he could be comfortable. Hopefully, throughout the night I could help him find that place again. I stood and picked up both mine and Devon’s glasses, carrying them to the table, which was already set.
A white tablecloth draped over the top with two tall candles sitting unlit in the center. The place settings were set adjacent to each other instead of across the table. I took the seat on the side, leaving the one at the head of the table for Devon. He was bustling around the kitchen, and I took the moment to really look around Devon’s home, hoping I could get to know the shy man a little better.
There were wall bookshelves that surrounded the fireplace and a TV above it between the two. I couldn’t make out who was in the pictures, but there were tons of them filling the shelves. He had knickknacks on other shelves and on the small tables around the room. There was a throw blanket folded on the back of the couch. The room was lived in, but clean and organized. One thing I noticed missing was any of the awards Devon had won for playing hockey. And I knew there had to be many. Like me, he didn’t need his medals and trophies on display. He knew he’d gotten them and that was enough for him.
The entire place was simple and fit the man who was currently carrying two plates over to the table.
“I hope ravioli is okay.” He set the plate in front of me then one in the other place. “It’s a recipe of my mom’s. She got it from my grandmother.”
I reached out and took Devon’s hand as he moved past my chair, stopping him. When he looked down at me, I smiled. “It’s perfect. I love homemade pasta.” He smiled back. Reluctantly, I let go of his hand. I liked the way it fit in mine. “I don’t get a lot of home-cooked meals, unless I go home.”
Devon took his seat and picked up his fork. “You don’t cook?”
“Not really. I make a mean ramen.” I laughed, happy to see the smile still lingering on Devon’s lips. He was gorgeous no matter what he was doing, but that smile? It lit up his face.
“I haven’t eaten ramen since college.”
“It was great when I was in high school, then the Navy cooked for me. By the time I was discharged, I’d never bothered to learn.”
Devon looked down at his plate. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
I set my fork to the side and turned my body toward him. “Devon?” I waited until he brought his eyes up to mine. “You don’t have to be sorry about bringing that up. It’s part of me. I’m not ashamed of being in the Navy. I wanted you to know about the PTSD, so you’d understand why I kept turning you down. It wasn’t that I don’t find you incredibly attractive, but I haven’t been on a date since I left the Navy and moved to Espen.” I closed my eyes briefly and opened them to focus on Devon again. His blue eyes easy to get lost in. “For a long time, I didn’t think I was ready. I never wanted my issues to be a burden to anyone else.”
“And you think dating will do that?”
“No, but dating can lead to a relationship. It was part of why I moved away from my parents in Massachusetts. They’d done more than enough for me, and it was time to stand on my own two feet. Not that my sister liked me moving away.”
He tilted his head to the side. “You have a sister?”
“I do.” The corner of my mouth kicked up. “Actually, a twin sister.”
“A twin?”
“Yep. She’s two minutes younger than me.”
It seemed like Devon had forgotten about his earlier discomfort and was happily eating and asking questions. It was nice to see this side of him as we ate. “Here I am wondering what it’s like to have a sibling, and you have a twin.”
I chuckled. “Guess I shouldn’t tell you that I have an older brother too.”
“Wow. What was it like to grow up with them?”
“A pain in the ass.” His eyes widened slightly, and I continued quickly, because my siblings were everything to me. “They were always in my stuff, including my business. But I couldn’t imagine life without them. My sister has been my rock for as long as I can remember.”
“I take it you’re closest with her?”
“She can read me like no one else on the planet. It really is true what they say about twins. It’s this feeling deep in your gut and you can recognize it instantly when they’re not around.”
“I’ve heard about those types of connections.”
“What was it like growing up with your parents? Your mom is great.”
We’d finished our meals and it was nice to take the time to get to know each other better.
“Being an only child wasn’t always easy. I would have loved a sibling to play with when I was younger or hang around with when I was older. But my parents were always there for me. Even though they both worked long hours, one was at every game. And they both made sure to be there for the big ones. I couldn’t have asked for more.”
“Seems like that worked out well for you.” A pink tint stained his cheeks. It was fucking adorable.
I’d never had a problem talking to people, being confident in my life. Devon, on the other hand, seem to struggle with that. Someday, I hoped he would feel he could say anything to me.
“It did. When I’m playing, it’s like everything is different. Everything makes sense. I know what I have to do and am confident in my abilities to get it done.”
“It’s been a long time, but I do remember the wind in my hair as I raced my sister around the rink.”
“You know how to skate?” I noticed the spark that lit up those eyes.
“I wouldn’t say know how. More like used to be able to fumble my way around the rink at home.”
“Would you like to skate again? With me?” He looked like he wanted to ask more, most likely about my leg and the limp, except he didn’t. I figured I could handle a little ice-skating. It wasn’t me slamming my foot down into the ground like when I ran.
I glanced behind me out the front window. The sky was dark. “Is there a rink near here?”
“You could say that.” Devon stood and walked back to the living room, taking both of our coats from the closet. He handed mine over and put his on. “Follow me.”
I shrugged into my coat and followed him through the kitchen to a small laundry room with a door into the backyard. He flicked a switch before we stepped outside. There was an attached garage out front, but maybe he had another detached one in the back. When I stepped outside, I stopped in my tracks.
“You have an ice rink in your backyard?”
“My parents had it installed for me after the house was built.”
I stared at the lights shining on the rink from above. “I don’t have skates.”
“I have extra in the shed.”
I followed Devon into the yard. I never expected to go ice-skating in Devon’s backyard when I arrived. It sounded like a great idea to me. Something I knew he loved and hopefully would open him up more. Even if I fell flat on my ass, as long as I didn’t push too hard and hurt my leg.
He pulled on the door of the shed and flicked on another light. I stepped inside. While it shouldn’t have surprised me to see the hockey equipment and skates around the room, it did.
Devon found me a pair in my size, and we changed into the skates. When we reached the entrance of the rink, I removed the guard on the bottom. Devon did the same. He stepped onto the ice, and it was like his worries melted away. He moved with such grace and power as he skated backward away from me.
I stepped onto the ice, hoping I wouldn’t immediately lose my balance. Slowly, I moved one foot in front of the other. Devon skated over until he was next to me. The more I moved, the more my muscles remembered what they were doing. I took it slow, knowing too much would make my leg stiff for the next day.
We didn’t talk much as we glided around the ice, the wind blowing through our hair. Devon’s face was so peaceful and serene out here. The strong lines of his jaw and sexy lips called to me.
Suddenly, the skate on my left foot got tangled in the right one. I struggled to stay on my feet. Devon appeared before me and his strong arms wrapped tightly around my waist, holding me up. Our eyes connected and I quickly got lost in those blue depths. His body was warm against mine. My eyes dropped to his full lips that begged for me to taste him. Refusing to deny myself again, I leaned forward and took my first taste of Devon D’Agostino.
The kiss was soft and chaste and had my entire body vibrating with energy. Never in my life had such a simple kiss packed a punch like that. The connection of our lips ended, and I looked back into the eyes of the man before me.
“Thank you for catching me.”
I had to wonder if I meant more than just catching me from falling to the ice.