Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
Lincoln
I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Erika. She stirred slightly, curling up on her side as I quietly left the room. Exhaustion had weighed me down when I first climbed into her bed, but now I was wide awake, my mind racing with thoughts of my brother.
The unbelievable tale of his survival replayed over and over in my head. I was elated to have Michael back, yet the memory of when he disappeared still haunted me. I’d buried my pain back then, almost certain he was gone forever. The Atlantic was unforgiving, especially near Nova Scotia, where the waters stayed icy even in the summer.
I wandered into Erika’s living room, needing space to think without disturbing her. My hands shook as I tried to process everything. The bottle of vodka I’d left on the table earlier caught my eye, and I took a swig, hoping it would steady me. I wasn’t an emotional man—at least, I hadn’t been before Erika came into my life. She had a way of making me feel things I’d long kept buried.
“Lincoln?” I heard her soft voice call from the bedroom.
“I just needed something,” I replied, not turning around. Moments later, I felt her arms encircle me from behind, her warm hands gliding over my chest.
“I understand. Why didn’t you wake me?” she asked, her voice gentle.
“You had a busy day, and I knew you needed your sleep,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Are you thinking about Michael?” she asked, her tone laced with concern.
“I can’t stop,” I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could rein them in. “How long was he in the water before he was picked up? Did he think he was going to die?”
“Those are questions you need to ask him,” she said softly.
“I know, but not now. I have my brother back, and that’s all that matters,” I said, trying to convince myself as much as her.
Erika pressed a kiss to my neck, her fingers grazing my nipples in a way that sent a shiver down my spine. It was soothing, yet it also stirred something else in me. I felt my body react, my erection slowly growing in response to her touch.
“Would you like to?” she whispered in my ear, her breath warm against my skin.
“I think we can wait until tomorrow morning,” I murmured, though I could feel my resolve wavering.
“Newsflash, Elliott. It is tomorrow morning,” she teased, her lips brushing against my ear.
She was right. When I first got up, it was just after 1 a.m. A part of me wanted to give in, to lose myself in her, but it didn’t feel right—not now.
“Can we just go to bed?” I asked, needing something more than physical release. “I want to hold you. I need the connection.”
“You have it whether we’re together or not,” she assured me, her voice tender.
Erika let me go, and I set the vodka bottle back on the coffee table. She held out her hand, and I took it, letting her lead me back to the bedroom. I’d thought about how much I liked—maybe even loved—this woman countless times in the past few weeks. It seemed ridiculous to fall so quickly but love at first sight ran in the family. Michael had fallen hard for Morgan, and Talon was smitten with Storm.
In bed, I curled around Erika, tucking my hand under her side to pull her close against my chest. She made me feel safe, comforted—like everything might just be okay.
"What's this?" I asked, yawning as I rubbed my eyes.
Erika walked through the bedroom door, holding a tray in her hands. The aroma of the food tickled my nose, and my stomach growled with hunger. She placed the wooden tray on the bed, revealing poached eggs on English muffins, generously covered in Hollandaise sauce. I’d only mentioned my love for this breakfast once, and seeing it now made my heart jump. The meal was completed with a side of crispy bacon, a glass of orange juice, and a steaming mug of coffee.
"You made me Eggs Benedict?" I asked, my voice small with surprise.
"Not exactly," she replied with a smile. "I didn’t have Canadian bacon, so I gave you a side of bacon instead."
"Still, Hollandaise isn’t easy to make," I said, impressed.
"You’re turning me domestic," she teased.
She handed me the tray, and my mouth watered as I took in the spread.
"What about you?" I asked.
I was grateful for the care Erika took. She knew I was hurting and needed comfort.
"I had a bagel and coffee earlier," she said, waving it off.
"You should’ve woken me up," I said, frowning slightly.
"You had a hard sleep."
"Hard?" I repeated, confused.
"You were whimpering, talking about Michael’s leg," she explained.
I wracked my brain trying to remember the dream, but it slipped away, just out of reach.
"He broke it when he was fourteen," I revealed. "He insisted on climbing a wall and walking along the top. He slipped."
"It doesn’t surprise me," she said, nodding. "All the memories of your brother are flooding back."
"I’m supposed to have lunch with my family today. Do you mind?" I asked, hoping she wouldn’t take it the wrong way.
She plopped down on the bed, ran her finger along the rim of my plate, and scooped up some Hollandaise sauce. She pressed her finger to my mouth, and I licked it clean.
"Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous."
"Not ridiculous," I returned. "I care about your feelings."
"What kind of person would I be if I stood in the way of your family? I hope one day to meet them all."
"You know Michael. He once mentioned you," I said, cutting into the English muffin and watching the yolk ooze out, mingling with the Hollandaise sauce.
"Only once?" she asked with a raised brow.
"He was stuck on Morgan."
Erika’s expression softened, but there was a hint of tension in her eyes.
"Promise me you’ll forgive her?" she asked softly.
"I’ll try for your sake," I replied, knowing it wasn’t going to be easy.
"She’s a wonderful person. I don’t want to be separated from her."
I started to cough, feeling the weight of her words. "I would never ask you to distance yourself from her. I don’t have to see her."
"But that wouldn’t work. She’s my best friend. Suppose we wanted to have dinner together as a couple?"
"I’m not sure I would want that, knowing my brother is pining away for her while she’s married to someone else."
"We can talk about this later. I have a few appointments this morning," she said, brushing the conversation aside for now.
"Didn’t you have one earlier?" I asked, remembering her usual schedule.
"I canceled because I was worried about you."
"It wasn’t necessary. I’ll be fine," I assured her, though I appreciated the gesture more than she knew.
Erika cupped my face, her thumb brushing over my bottom lip before she rose from the bed to head to the shower. I watched her go, then turned my attention back to the breakfast she’d made. I dove into the meal, savoring each bite as I turned on the television to watch the news. There was a brief report about my brother’s return, but nothing major—just enough to remind me that everything had changed.
The next few days blurred together in a whirlwind of appointments, negotiations, and family gatherings. Even with the chaos, the fact that Michael was back lingered in my mind. His story—unbelievable, yet somehow real—played on a loop, leaving me equal parts amazed and concerned. Tonight, I’d be having dinner with him, and though the idea of catching up after so long felt right, something about leaving Erika alone on a Friday night gnawed at me.
“You look nice,” Erika’s voice broke through my thoughts, drawing my attention.
I glanced at her, still fumbling with the knot of my purple tie. “Thanks,” I replied, focusing on the mirror. “Will you be alright alone tonight?”
Erika scoffed, a playful glint in her eyes. “Geez, Elliott, you think I’ve never spent a Friday night on my own? Anyway, I have a date.”
The words hit me like a slap. I spun around, my heart lurching in my chest. There she was, leaning against the doorjamb of my closet, a smirk playing on her lips.
“A date?” I echoed, my voice sharper than intended. “With who?”
She shrugged, her tone nonchalant. “I have a whole phone full of contacts.”
“Contacts?” I repeated, my scowl deepening. “What contacts?”
“Guys,” she replied with a casual shrug, her eyes daring me to challenge her.
Something flared up inside me—possessiveness, jealousy, maybe both. I took a step toward her, but Erika didn’t budge. Her stance was firm, unyielding, as if she was daring me to come closer. Another step, and I was almost chest to chest with her, our eyes locking in a silent battle. I searched her gaze, those gorgeous blue eyes that always seemed to hold a mystery I was desperate to unravel.
“Who, Erika?” I demanded, my voice low, almost a growl. “Which guys?”
She rolled her eyes, but there was a softness there, a hint of amusement. “You’re so stupid, Elliott. You’re the only guy I’m interested in.”
“Then tell me who you’re seeing tonight.”
“Morgan,” she said, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “We’re having dinner out.”
“And after?” I pressed, my jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.
“Maybe dancing at Surge,” she answered, her tone light, as if this were all a game.
“Not without me,” I stated, my voice hard.
Erika raised an eyebrow, her expression challenging. “You don’t trust me?”
“I trust you,” I said, my hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I don’t trust the multitude of men who want what I have.”
“I’m not a possession,” she shot back, her voice firm.
“But you’re mine,” I replied, my tone possessive, undeniable.
For a moment, the air between us crackled with tension. Then, with a swift motion, Erika grasped my tie and yanked me down to her level, her lips crashing into mine. The kiss was intense, charged with the kind of heat that always left me wanting more.
My body responded instantly, a familiar ache building as her tongue traced the seam of my lips, coaxing them open. My hands tangled in her long blonde hair, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss until I could feel every curve of her body against mine.
Her hand moved lower, cupping me through my trousers, and I gasped, the sound escaping before I could stop it. She smirked against my mouth, her fingers stroking me just enough to drive me wild.
“Doesn’t take much,” she murmured, her voice a seductive whisper.
“We didn’t make love last night,” I reminded her, my breath coming out ragged.
“I asked you to come home for lunch,” she countered, her tone almost accusing. “I could’ve met you here.”
“I had a meeting with a client,” I explained, trying to keep my thoughts straight. “I couldn’t say no.”
“How much?” she asked, her hand stilling its movements.
“How much what?” I asked, momentarily thrown off.
“Is the commission for this client?”
“If the negotiation goes well, just short of two hundred grand,” I replied, watching her reaction closely.
“Christ, I need clients like yours,” she muttered, her tone envious but laced with admiration.
“You act like you don’t make good money,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“I do, but nothing like you do.”
“We could be a force together,” I suggested, the idea forming in my mind, one that I’d been turning over for a while now.
“We already are together,” she said, pulling back slightly to look me in the eye.
“I mean together,” I emphasized, my voice soft but serious.
Erika’s expression shifted, curiosity replacing her playful demeanor. “What do you mean, together?”
I hesitated, the weight of what I was about to say suddenly making my heart pound. I glanced down at the floor, feeling a wave of sheepishness wash over me. This wasn’t something I’d planned on bringing up, especially not so soon, but the words tumbled out before I could stop them.
“Marriage,” I whispered.
For a moment, the room was deathly silent. Then Erika laughed, the sound light but tinged with disbelief. “Elliott, you really know how to scare a girl off.”
“Don’t say that,” I growled, my possessiveness flaring up again.
“You’re out of your mind,” she said, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What happened to that jerk I negotiated with a few weeks ago?”
“He melted away the minute you came into his life,” I admitted, surprised at how much truth lay in those words.
“We’re not even close to that stage,” she said, her tone firm but not unkind. “I don’t think I’ll be ready for marriage until I’m about thirty-five.”
I scowled, a mix of frustration and disappointment settling in. “You’re only twenty-seven.”
“Let’s get to know each other before we make any deep commitments,” she suggested, pulling away completely and turning toward the mirror.
I sighed, watching her walk off. She was right, of course. We were still in the early stages, still figuring each other out. But that didn’t change how I felt—how certain I was that she was the one. As I finished dressing, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just taken a leap too soon, but it was out there now, and there was no taking it back.
I found her standing in front of the mirror, combing her hair. Without a word, I walked up behind her, slipping my arms around her waist and pressing a soft kiss to the nape of her neck. She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t lean into me either. Instead, we stood there in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts, the weight of what had been said hanging between us like a cloud that neither of us could disperse.
Erika’s voice cut through the charged atmosphere. “Stop distracting me.”
I grinned, pressing my pelvis against her, letting her feel the lingering hardness of my erection through the thin fabric of her pink panties. “I love distracting you,” I murmured, my breath hot against her neck.
She turned her head slightly, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “Do you really want to get into this now?”
“There’s no time like the present,” I said, my hands roaming to her hips.
With a soft laugh, she shook her head. “With the way I’m feeling right now, if we go to bed, neither of us will make it to dinner.”
I groaned, frustration mixed with desire. “You had to tell me that?”
“Go see your brother,” she said, her tone firm but playful. “But be ready for tonight.”
“I’m always ready,” I replied, my voice low.
“Go!” she said with a laugh. “Before I change my mind.”
The words I love you hovered on my lips, but I held them back. The conversation we’d had earlier seemed like enough for now. Instead, I pressed my lips against her neck, sucking gently, my hands cupping her breasts before I reluctantly pulled away.
She looked at me with a smirk. “Jerk. Now I need a cold shower or something.”
“I can help with that,” I offered, my voice tinged with mischief.
“Not now,” she said, pushing me away playfully. “Go have your dinner.”
I hesitated. “Should I meet you at your place later?”
“Text me,” she replied. “I’m not sure when I’ll be home.”
“What restaurant are you going to?” I asked, curiosity piqued.
She shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. “I have no idea.”
“Have no idea, or you don’t want to tell me?”
“We’re not attached at the hip,” she said, her tone light but firm. “Spend the evening with your brother. We’ll touch base later.”
I gave her a quick pat on the ass before turning toward the door. Despite the tension between us, a part of me felt reassured. This was my apartment, but leaving Erika here alone didn’t worry me as much as it might have. I knew she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. As I walked out, I couldn’t shake the feeling that our relationship was evolving in ways I hadn’t expected, but I was ready to see where it would lead.