Chapter 10 Linc
LINC
“Wow,” I mutter when I finally catch my breath.
“I … that … wow, indeed,” Tay replies, her voice husky from screaming my name as she came.
We turn our heads to face one another, silently staring at each other.
She rolls to her side and rests her head on her palm.
Reaching out, I brush a tendril of hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear.
I trace my fingertip along her jawline before gently running the pad of my finger over her kiss-swollen lips. She nips at my finger playfully.
“Where have you been all my life?” The question slips out before my mouth-to-brain filter kicks in.
“Denver,” she nonchalantly replies. “I could ask you the same question?”
“California … and the occasional summer in Vegas with my grandma.”
“I love the relationship you have with your grandma, it’s very …”
“Manly,” I offer.
“I was going to say—” I open my mouth to interrupt, but she presses her finger to my lips shushing me. “Cute.”
“Cute,” I mumble against her finger, “I’ll show you cute.”
Grabbing her wrist, I pull her toward me and slam my lips to hers. She climbs on top, her hair falls down around us like a golden curtain. Brushing her hair back, I grip her cheeks and pull her in for another kiss. It starts out soft and slow, but it quickly turns heated.
Flipping her onto her back, I stare down at the angel beneath me. “You really think I’m cute?” She nods. “Cute, really?”
“You’re cute in a manly, rugged way.”
“That’s better, but I think we can come up with a better adjective than that.”
“Like?”
“Well, for starters, dazzling or handsome or my favorite pulchritudinous.”
“Pulcha-what-nous?”
“Pulchritudinous. It means having great physical beauty, and going by the ‘ohh Gods’ and ‘Liiiiinc’s’ you shouted earlier, I exceed expectations in the physical department.”
“You can also add modest to your list of traits,” she teases with a giggle. “But for the record, yes, you are pulchritudinous. Now, show me the physical side of that again, and then I want to snuggle with you all night long.”
“You have yourself a deal, foxy lady.”
She scoffs, “I think you mean pulchritudinous lady.”
We both burst out laughing, and then I show her just how physical I am, and in the early hours of the morning, like she requested, we drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s embrace.
* * *
Morning comes and when I wake, I feel happy and content. Something I haven’t felt in a very long time. Reaching out, I pat the mattress next to me and furrow my brows when all I feel is a cold sheet. I was hoping to feel a naked and pulchritudinous woman.
Sitting up, I look around and my heart sinks when I see her clothes from last night are gone. “Well, this sucks,” I mutter to myself.
Throwing the sheet off, I climb out of bed and head into my en suite to take a piss. I really thought we had something, but I guess I was wrong.
Washing my hands, I grab my toothbrush and squeeze out some paste and begin to brush my teeth.
My mind drifts to last night and the connection I felt with Tay.
Maybe I was just caught up in the moment since she’s not here.
Rinsing my mouth, I grab a pair of workout shorts and a Schofield racing shirt and get dressed for the day.
After dressing, I head to the kitchen in search of coffee and when I step out of the hallway, I pause mid-step because there, in my kitchen, in one of my Schofield racing tees is Taylor, and she’s making breakfast. Her hair is up on her head in a messy bun, and she’s bopping along to A-Ha’s “Take on Me.”
Leaning against the wall, I watch her. Seeing her so carefree and at home in my kitchen causes my heart to stutter, and that feeling of contentment slams back into me. She looks up, and our gaze connects across the room.
“Morning, sleepyhead. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m making us pancakes.”
“I don’t mind at all,” I tell her, pushing off the wall and walking over to her. “I have to admit, seeing you in my team shirt and kitchen is a great sight. And I really hope you’re naked under that shirt.”
She shrugs but from the seductive glint in her eye, I think she is. “This shirt, it’s comfy AF and cooking in your kitchen is amazeballs. This is like my dream kitchen.”
You’re my dream girl, I think to myself.
“I was going to make coffee too but that machine of yours,” she head nods toward my coffee station, “needs a doctorate to operate.”
Chuckling, I stop next to her and rest my hand on her lower back and press myself into her side. Her body melts into mine, and I’m positive I hear her sigh. She looks up at me and smiles. “Think you can make coffee while I finish up?”
“I can do that,” I tell her.
She nods and turns her attention back to the pancake batter. Leaning over, I place a kiss on the side of her head. Squeezing her hip, I turn away from her to make our coffees … on the machine that is not complicated.
I’ve just placed her coffee next to her when there’s a knock at the front door. Walking over, I swing it open. My eyes widen when I see my grandma standing there. “Grandma, what are you doing here?”
“It’s Saturday. We moved our pancake date forward since you’re off to who knows where for the next race.” She leans in and kisses me on the cheek
Shit, I internally hiss. I totally forgot we swapped our breakfast date, but before I can say anything, she sniffs the air. “Are those pancakes I smell?”
Without waiting for my reply, she steps around me and walks inside. I know the moment she spies Tay in my kitchen because she lets out an excited squeak. “Taylor, what are you doing here?” She flicks her gaze to me and her eyes widen. “Oh My God, did you two have a sleepover?”
“Grandma,” I groan, while Taylor grins and her cheeks darken.
“Morning, Mrs. Schofield. Would you like to join us for breakfast?”
“Ohhh, I couldn’t intrude,” Grandma tells her but I can tell from the tone of her voice, there is no way she’s leaving.
“Please,” Taylor begs, “we insist.”
“Well, if you insist,” Grandma replies quickly. She climbs onto a stool at the island bench and watches Taylor intently. She’s beaming right now, and I love seeing my grandma so happy.
“Can Linc get you a coffee?”
“A mimosa goes with brunch.”
“Then, can Linc get you a mimosa?”
“Of course he can.” Grandma turns to me. “Three mimosas, young man.”
“Yes, ma'am.” I salute her and go about making three mimosas.
Taylor and Grandma start chatting, and the two of them are getting along like a house on fire. While Taylor finishes cooking the pancakes, the three of us chat and laugh. Boy do we laugh. We discuss books, politics, celebrity gossip, and everything in between.
Taylor excuses herself to use the bathroom, and I can’t help myself, I swat her ass as she walks past. She playfully scowls at me, and I blow her a kiss, earning myself a headshake.
The door to my room clicks, and Grandma pounces. “My boy found love in the club,” she coos. “Is that not like the most perfect love story ever?”
“Grandma,” I say, rolling my eyes. “It’s been one date.”
“When you know you know, Lincoln—”
“Ohhh, you full named me.”
“Don't sass an old woman. That girl in there,” she points toward my room, “is your penguin. Don’t fuck it up, I like her.”
“I like her too,” I tell her.
“I know you do. Now make an old lady happy and get her another mimosa, and maybe a grandbaby too.”
Shaking my head, I chuckle at her request but do as I’m told—in the first request. I grab the empty glasses and head into the kitchen.
As I’m pouring our drinks, I think Grandma might be right.
I have found my penguin. I’m not in love yet, but I can totally see myself falling in love with Taylor King.