Chapter 2
two
. . .
Lincoln
My mom was asking more questions than I was in the mood to answer at the moment. I’d stumbled into this little café as soon as I’d pulled into town, needing to stretch my legs and get a bite to eat. I’d ordered an iced coffee and a sandwich and found a table in the back of the quaint restaurant.
I’d kept my sunglasses and a baseball cap on out of habit, but no one was in here, so I set them aside. This was exactly what I needed.
Some quiet.
Some peace.
I couldn’t ask for more.
“So, how long do you think you’ll stay?” she asked as I held the phone to my ear.
“I don’t know. I haven’t even been to the house yet. Drew said I can stay as long as I want. Apparently, he and Deb are busy with work and the kids’ activities, so they won’t be coming for several months.”
“You could come home,” Mom said, though she’d offered it multiple times already.
“I know. And thank you. But I wanted to get out of the city. I need a break while I figure out my shit. I don’t want people grilling me every time I walk out my door.
And I want you to have some peace while you continue to get healthier every day.
” My mom had a house outside of San Francisco, while I lived in a high-rise in the city.
But everyone knew me there, and that was what I was trying to avoid at the moment.
I couldn’t think.
I couldn’t breathe.
“You do what’s best for you, Linc. You know I’ll support you, no matter what you decide.”
There were a few things that I was certain of right now. But my mom’s support had always been the most solid thing in my life.
“I know, and I appreciate it. There’s a lot to consider, and it’s weighing on me.”
“Well, I’m here anytime you want to talk.”
“You got it. I’ll call you in a day or two after I get settled.”
“Love you, Linc.”
“Love you.” I ended the call and took a bite of my sandwich as I glanced around the place.
This town was like something out of a movie.
It sat on the coast, with a cove in the center of town.
My agent, Drew, had been telling me to get a place here for years.
He and his family used to spend their summers out here, but now their kids were getting older, and they weren’t able to get away as often as they used to.
I’d always been too busy to get away.
Too obligated.
Too intense about training.
But right now, I had options, and I wasn’t going to rush into any decisions.
Even if reporters had basically staked out my place in the city, following me to restaurants and hounding friends and family to get the inside scoop about where I was going to play next season.
It annoyed the shit out of me.
And the truth was, I didn’t know where I was going.
I was at the peak of my career. Coach Anders and I didn’t see eye to eye, and I’d tried to get behind his plan for the team ever since he’d been hired two seasons ago.
But over the last two years, he’d traded half the guys I’d started with. Dudes that had protected me.
Players that I’d had chemistry with.
My brothers that should have been there when we’d won the Super Bowl this year.
So, yeah, we’d done something right, but there’d been a lot of luck involved. Our opponents had had an off day due to a ton of injuries, and the stars had aligned for us.
But I’d taken a beating.
Our guys were young and inexperienced. And I was all about the team and helping one another, but not at the expense of getting my head bashed in over and over.
I reached for my iced coffee and looked up to see that a woman had just come in. She was wearing a pair of overalls and leaning over the counter, laughing.
Long, dark waves ran down her back, and she wiggled her cute ass as she spoke.
My dick jumped to attention.
Damn. It had been a while since I’d been laid.
I didn’t trust many people right now, as everyone wanted to know what I was going to do. And there were people willing to pay someone to weasel their way in and find out. So, I was keeping to myself.
I continued watching her until she stood all the way up, and I wondered how the fuck someone managed to make a pair of baggy denim overalls look sexy as hell.
She turned slowly—almost like she felt me staring at her.
When my gaze locked with dark brown eyes, the familiarity had me dropping my sandwich.
I’d seen this woman before.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
This was the woman who’d followed me into the bathroom a few weeks back. I’d been trying to have a private conversation with my mother.
An important fucking conversation.
Just one damn minute to myself.
It didn’t seem like a lot to ask for.
These people had no regard for privacy.
No human decency.
Her jaw fell open, and she glared at me. But I didn’t give her the chance to speak. I was on my feet and moving toward her.
“Do I need a restraining order? Did you follow me here?” I hissed, using my height to my advantage as I was a good foot taller than her.
She stormed toward me. “You arrogant, pretentious, narcissistic—”
“Is there an ending to your rant?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
She had some sort of pink scarf thing tied at the top of her head.
Her tan face was free of makeup, and the woman was flawless.
Stunning.
Yet here she was, once again, invading my space.
I’d had her removed from the press conference after she’d crossed the line, and she’d stayed away ever since then. I’d hoped she’d gotten the message.
“For your information, I live here,” she said, flailing her arms.
“Is that your story?”
She just stared at me and started backing away as if she couldn’t stand the sight of me.
The feeling’s mutual, sweetheart.
She may be hot as hell, but she was just another bloodsucking reporter out to make a buck at my expense.
“What’s it like to live in a world where you don’t see beyond yourself?” she asked, raising a brow as she held a cup filled with pink liquid in one hand.
“Are you seriously trying to interview me now? I promise you, if anyone finds out I’m here, I’ll file a restraining order against you so fast, your pretty little head will spin.”
Did I need to compliment her when I was threatening her?
“Do you seriously think I’m here for work? That I’m here for you?” she said, shaking her head.
There were grass stains on the knees of her denim overalls and what looked like a bit of dirt on her nose. Was this all a plan to make it appear that she was here on vacation?
“Nice try, sweetheart. Once a bloodsucker, always a bloodsucker. Get back in your car and go home.”
Something crossed over her features, and for a minute, it looked like her eyes were watering.
But she quickly hardened, narrowing her gaze at me.
The teenager behind the counter, who’d made my sandwich and drink and giggled endlessly just minutes ago, was watching us intently.
If I wasn’t mistaken, it looked like she was shooting daggers at me, as well.
What kind of establishment allowed a man to get stalked and then shamed him for it?
“You are so out of line, and you don’t even know it.
I hope karma kicks you in the ass. And for the record, I’m not going anywhere.
I grew up here, you arrogant prick. So, if you don’t want to see me, I suggest you hightail it out of town.
Because in Cottonwood Cove, the Reynolds’ are a bigger deal than you are, hotshot.
” She smirked and whipped around, long, brown hair falling down her back.
“Nice try. Go back to the city. There’s no story here.” I couldn’t peel my eyes off her ass as she stormed to the door.
She held her hand high in the air and flipped me the bird as she pushed outside.
What the fuck was this?
I’d only been in Cottonwood Cove for thirty minutes.
How’d she even know that I was here?
I settled back in my chair as the young blonde behind the counter stormed over with a pitcher in her hand and reached for my glass. I hadn’t asked for a refill, but she didn’t seem to care whether I wanted one or not.
She just glared at me as if I were some kind of criminal.
“Do you allow your customers to get harassed by reporters here? Maybe I picked the wrong town to escape to.” I reached for my glass after she set it down.
“I don’t know who you are, but I’ve known Brinkley Reynolds my whole life. She used to babysit me when I was little. And she is a reporter, but she isn’t working at the moment because she lost her job. She just moved back home a few weeks ago. I think you misread that one big time, Mister.”
Brinkley Reynolds. Yes. Now I remembered the name.
Mister? What was I, a hundred years old? I was twenty-fucking-nine. No one called me mister.
I leaned back in my chair as I processed her words.
“Do you know why she lost her job?” I cleared my throat and braced for her answer.
“Some big, famous football player called her out publicly, and her boss let her go. We’re not supposed to talk about it, but here in Cottonwood Cove, we all have one another’s backs. Word gets around, you know? I don’t know who this guy is, because I don’t much care for sports with balls.”
What the fuck did that even mean? She’d ruled out half the sports known to man.
She couldn’t be more than sixteen years old, and she glared at me once more before marching away.
Had I actually gotten this woman fired? It hadn’t been my first time griping about a journalist crossing the line. But I sure as shit didn’t know she’d lose her job for it.
I picked up my phone and texted Drew.
Hey. Remember that reporter I had escorted out of the press conference a few weeks back?
Drew
Not really. I was dealing with my own shit that day, with everyone hounding me about you. What about her?
I think she got fired.
Drew
Well, she shouldn’t have followed you into the shitter.
I scrubbed a hand down the back of my neck, letting out a long breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding.
My mother had been a single mom, and she’d worked her ass off while trying to raise me at the same time.
That had been a driving force in my signing with the NFL and being able to help her out and take that pressure off her shoulders.
And I sure as shit was not a guy who wanted to cost anyone their livelihood.
I’m not a complete dick. I wouldn’t want to be the reason anyone lost their job.
Drew
How do you know she got fired?
I just ran into her. Here. She fucking lives here.
Drew
She does? What’s her name?
Brinkley Reynolds.
Drew
Holy fuck. She’s a Cottonwood Cove Reynolds?
What the fuck does that mean?
Drew
Everyone knows the Reynolds. Their kids are all rock stars, and they're practically royalty there. Her brother opened a big restaurant that people from the city drive to because the food’s so damn good.
And the family owns another bar and a restaurant, I think.
One of the brothers is an up-and-coming actor.
Someone’s a doctor. One does something in the book world, and now that you mention it, I think one of them is a journalist.
Great. You sent me to a town with the woman I kicked out of the press conference and proceeded to get her fired? And her family is practically fucking royalty here?
Drew
Drew
Relax, brother. Keep a low profile. It’ll be fine. Do you want me to try to call her boss and get her her job back?
Do you know who she even worked for?
Drew
No. But I can find out. You’re Lincoln fucking Hendrix. You got her fired. I’m sure we can use your name to get her rehired. I like seeing this human side of you. The one where you feel bad when you’re an asshole.
Fuck off. I’m not a total dick, am I?
Drew
Do you want the truth? You do pay me to tell you that you’re amazing.
Then why do you constantly tell me I’m an asshole?
Drew
Kidding, brother. You’ve got the biggest heart around. You just hide it really well. I’ll see what I can find out.
Thanks. I’m heading to the house now if the teenager at the coffee shop doesn’t put a hit out on me for accusing Brinkley Reynolds of stalking me.
Drew
Wow. You really are a dick.
I made my way out of the café and to Drew’s house, my cap and sunglasses in place. I was trying to hide my identity for more than one reason at the moment.