Chapter Twelve
Linc
I input Jordan’s parents’ address into my GPS and drive there, my heart pounding hard in my chest. I don’t know if I have the right words to fix things between us.
I only know I have to find them or I’ll never be happy again and I’ll lose the person who means the most to me.
Not to mention, I’ll have to live with knowing I hurt her.
And she’s pregnant with my baby. So I have to undo the damage I’ve done.
My cell rings, and with the buttons on my steering wheel, I take the call without checking who’s on the other end. “Hello?”
“Linc? It’s Wallace.” The connection isn’t solid, and static sounds in the background.
“Jesus, Wallace. What the fuck? How could you up and disappear?” I grip the wheel and do my best to pay attention to the road and the signs.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know Kenneth would go to such extremes, and when I found out, I didn’t know what else to do.” The man’s voice trembles.
I shake my head. “Talk to me and start at the beginning.”
The other man lets out a long, wailing sound and I cringe. “Your father was my best friend. I would have done anything for him, and when he got his diagnosis, he was devastated,” Wallace says.
“I wouldn’t know. He didn’t confide in me.” If anything, Kenneth kept me at arm’s length, and since I never wanted to be close to him, I didn’t care.
The dementia was a blow, but I never wanted my father to get sick or die.
“Your father knew how you felt about him. Hell, he even understood. You all put Melly first. He got that. But the business was Kenneth’s baby.
” Wallace pauses. “And as much as he wanted his oldest son, the only son who cared about Kingston Enterprises as much as he did, in the business? He was envious of your success and worried he’d be seen as weak once he began showing more signs of his illness. ”
I put my signal on and take the next exit. “So what did you do?”
“Some creative accounting and I moved money around. I opened a separate account for Kenneth to use to make deals. It allowed him to feel in control and like the king of real estate he used to be. It let him avoid lenders and people who’d notice his diminishing abilities.”
I shake my head, surprised Wallace’s underlying rationale was friendship, not greed. But I know how much my father owed Beck, and even Kenneth realized he’d need collateral. So where was Wallace in all this?
“You have to believe me,” the other man says. “I never thought Kenneth would make a deal without my knowledge. Or be crazy enough to offer Beckett Daniels a piece of the company if he couldn’t come up with the money.”
I groan. “So what’s your plan? To hide out in the Maldives for the rest of your life?”
“Unless you don’t plan on pressing charges. I don’t know what I’d be liable for but…” Wallace’s voice trails off, giving me time to think.
Friendship. Wallace did it all for friendship and to help my father retain his dignity. Under these circumstances, how could I hold him criminally responsible?
“I’m not pressing charges,” I say. “You took care of my father, albeit in an extremely stupid way.” But I can’t keep him on. Not when I can’t trust the man’s judgment or decision-making. “Just resign and we’ll call it even.”
“Thank you.” Relief suffuses Wallace’s voice. “I can’t imagine not being able to easily see my boys.”
I know his wife passed away a couple of years ago, but he has adult children here in the States. “Wallace, just come home. I’ve got to go.”
“Goodbye, Lincoln. Thank you.”
Shaking my head, I disconnect the call. How my father had inspired such loyalty is beyond my understanding.
But business and my father are the last things I need to be concentrating on. My focus should be on much more important matters. Like convincing Jordan of my feelings and sincerity.
As I drive, I consider everything I need to say.
Thirty minutes later, I pull up in front of her parents’ modest home.
I haven’t been here before. Not because Jordan is embarrassed, but we both decided it was better not to upset her mother by pushing our friendship in her face when she so clearly disapproves.
I climb out and make my way up the walk and face the doorbell with dread. Dealing with Tamara Greene won’t be easy.
Before I lift my hand to ring, I see movement of the drapes on the side window, and then the door opens and Jordan’s mother stands in the entry. Obviously she saw me first.
Tamara wears a pair of jeans and a peach-colored blouse. With her blonde hair and blue eyes, she reminds me of a slightly harder version of her daughter.
Growing up, I always liked her. She was good to me, making sure my siblings and I had cookies and milk after school and even helping with homework if my mother wasn’t around. In fact, she didn’t become gruff and abrupt with me until high school.
“Hello, Mrs. Greene.”
“Lincoln, it’s about time you showed up.” Instead of letting me inside, she steps out to join me. “Now you listen to me, young man.”
I blink, and since I’m not stupid, I do as she says and wait for her to speak.
“I always liked you. You were a good boy, respectful, and smart. It wasn’t until I realized my daughter had a crush on you that I knew I had to do something about your friendship. I couldn’t let her get hurt by … well, to be frank, people like your father and the country club crowd.”
Jordan had a crush on me in high school? That’s news to me, but I can’t deny the jolt of pleasure that hits me as I find out.
“I understand your feelings about my father,” I say. “But nobody else in my family has ever or will ever hurt Jordan.”
Tamara narrows her gaze. “Except you.”
I wince because the truth stings. “I’m here to fix things.”
She settles her hands on her hips. “It had better be the right way, because no grandbaby of mine is going to be born without his parents being married. Not when they love each other like you and Jordan do.”
Shocked by her words, I cock my head to the side. “How do you know how we feel?” Oh, I know I love Jordan. I had the entire ride here to put my feelings into words as I figured out what I would say to her, and love is at the center of my argument.
“Best friends, my ass,” Tamara mutters.
I bite back a laugh. I’ve always liked her bluntness.
“Nobody spends the amount of time together you two do without having real feelings,” she goes on. “Now I admit I’m still worried, but given the situation, I’ve decided to trust you. Now good luck getting my daughter to do the same.”
She steps aside and gestures for me to come in, and I follow her into the small entryway.
“I’m going to convince her to hear you out. I suggest you figure out what you’re going to say,” Tamara says.
I stare at her retreating back, marveling at the woman’s honesty. She doesn’t hold back and I respect that.
I make my way into the family room to my left and walk around, looking at the family photos on the mantel and the shelves while I wait for Jordan.
* * *
Jordan
I sit on the bed in the room I shared with my sister, wearing an old tee shirt of my dad’s and a pair of my mother’s sweatpants.
My hair is wild from the spray I used to hold the waves I made last night for the concert.
And despite having washed my face and used a ton of makeup remover, when I brushed my teeth, I noticed I still have black streaks beneath my eyes. Lovely.
But it’s not like I’m going anywhere. I’ve decided to stay here for a couple of days. Let Linc deal with a temp as his assistant and see how he likes being without me.
I lift my knees and wrap my arms around them, needing the pressure against my stomach because, of course, I’m nauseous again. The male gets a female pregnant, but it’s the woman who has to suffer with all the side effects. So unfair.
Not to mention, I skipped breakfast. I hope I feel better soon, because despite how crappy I’m feeling, I’m also weirdly hungry.
A knock sounds on my door. “Come in.”
My mother walks into the room and stands by my bed. “How are you feeling? Any better?” she asks, concern in her tone.
I shake my head. “Not yet. I did get a few crackers down though.”
“Good.” My mother smiles. “You have company.”
My stomach does a complete flip, and I’m lucky I don’t throw up. “What? Who?”
“Don’t play dumb. Now get up and wash your face before you go downstairs. You can’t help being pale, but there’s no reason to look like a raccoon when you face Linc.”
I narrow my gaze. “What is with this sudden pushing me toward him? All you ever wanted was to keep us apart.”
My mother shakes her head. “Wrong. I wanted to protect you.” She lowers herself onto the bed beside my bent legs. “Now tell me something and don’t even think of lying to your mother. Do you love him?”
Shocked by the question, I look everywhere but at my mom. “Will you judge me if I say I do?” Because I’ve probably loved him for years.
Though, after the way he reacted to me being pregnant, it kills me to admit the truth. Considering Linc knows what I went through with Collin when I was pregnant, last night he still threw that same shocked, horrified attitude in my face. My stomach spins at the painful memory.
My mother sighs. “There’s no accounting for love, so no, I won’t judge you. As hard as I tried to prevent your pain, here we are.” She runs a soothing hand over my arm. “I listened to you last night. I heard you. And I thought about how things played out between you and Linc.”
“Just what are you saying?”
“That when he heard you were pregnant, you shocked him. You didn’t have a chance to lay the groundwork and soften the blow. Imagine hearing the news in a room full of people and not expecting it.”
I hug my legs tighter. “I know because I found out almost the same way.” Aurora suggested it, and next thing I knew, I was in a public bathroom stall, three pregnancy tests on the floor in front of me.
And I completely freaked out.