Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
LINCOLN
Beau:
Lincoln:
Does this mean you’re not still pissed at me?
Beau:
You married my sister in secret, fucker. What do you think?
Lincoln:
In that case, you’re definitely not ready to hear about the kitchen island.
A few days later, I made my way downstairs as I tugged my T-shirt into place, hair still damp from a shower.
After sweating through berry picking, chicken chasing, and checking the hives with Willa, I’d earned a drink before my shift tonight at the bar.
All of us were still settling in with the new schedule at One Night Stan’s while Tasha stepped up in a managerial role, but Trivia Night demanded all hands on deck.
It would also give me a bit of time to figure out when I could make this outdoor tub happen. Turned out, finding a chunk of time when Willa wasn’t on the property was difficult as fuck. Difficult but not impossible.
I expected to find my wife relaxing in one of the armchairs, reading her latest book in the same series as the breeding one we were both so fond of.
What I did not expect was to find her power walking circles around the silo like she was in a race with herself to see how fast she could wear a track into the floor.
Her hair was pulled back in a braid, her cheeks flushed, though not from arousal like I preferred. She didn’t even notice me, too busy muttering to herself. Something about how so very screwed we were.
So, that was probably fine.
I stood on the bottom step, leaning against the wall as I watched her whirl past again, no sign of slowing. “I know better than to tell you to calm down. But could you maybe stop long enough to fill me in on what’s got you anxiously burning a hole through the floor?”
She didn’t break her stride, just scowled at me like I was the idiot here, and kept right on pacing.
“I’ll take that as a no.” I pushed off from the wall and took the last step before striding toward her. “I’m going to assume that glare was an unspoken request for my assistance.”
“For your wh—” She didn’t get the words out before I stepped in her path, gripped her by the waist, and lifted her onto the island. “What the hell, Lincoln?”
Stepping between her legs, I settled my hands on her thighs, anchoring her in place.
“Just breathe for one damn second, all right?” I reached over and grabbed her emotional support water bottle and handed it to her. “Here. Drink.”
“Don’t boss me like a child,” she mumbled, eyes narrowed, but she took the bottle anyway. “I’m only drinking because I’m thirsty and not because you told me to.”
“I don’t care why you do it, wife, so long as you do.”
She glared at me while she drank, her scowl so fucking cute I had to remind myself now wasn’t the time to bend her over and fuck her into a better mood.
“Good.” I darted my gaze over her face, studying her. Flushed. Irritated. And very close to hangry. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“Lunch, same as you.” She rolled her eyes like it was the dumbest question she’d heard all week.
I glanced at the clock—five now, which meant she’d eaten almost six hours ago.
“Don’t move.” I stepped back and pointed a finger at her. “I mean it.”
She huffed but did as I said while I grabbed a package of her favorite peanut butter crackers from the pantry.
After opening the pack, I handed it over. “Eat. Then talk.”
Her eye twitched and she opened her mouth like she wanted to argue, but she shoved a cracker between her teeth instead. I grinned, and she only pursed her lips in response. But she downed those crackers like she’d been starved for hours.
I wouldn’t doubt it if she had been.
Once she finished the pack, I leaned against the sink directly across from her and crossed my arms. “All right, wife. You’re hydrated and fed. Now tell me what had you running laps around the silo.”
She took a deep inhale before blowing it out slowly. “I got an email that we made it through both the preliminary and secondary rounds for the grant. They’ve narrowed it down to the top ten applicants.”
“Shit, seriously? That’s amazing! That means—”
“We’re fucked. It means we’re absolutely fucked.”
With a furrowed brow, I scratched my jaw, squinting one eye at her. “Not following you here, hellcat.”
Willa blew out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping all while she picked at her cuticles—her only outward sign of nerves. “This round includes a PR interview.”
“So? If I can charm the pants off you, I can charm the hell out of an interviewer.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Not when that interviewer is Harper Davidson.”
My brows lifted as recognition hit immediately.
“Yeah,” Willa said sharply. “The same Harper Davidson who spent her summers here as a kid…who moved here last year…who did an investigative piece on your dad. She knows us, Linc. She knows our history. She knows we’ve spent the better part of our lives at complete odds with each other.”
“So does everyone else in Starlight Cove, and they bought the marriage without blinking.”
“Not everyone else in Starlight Cove is a goddamn investigative reporter! She’s going to be able to sniff this whole thing out. And that means we are completely and utterly fucked. We’re going to mess this up. We’re going to—”
“Willa,” I said, my voice calm and cool but firm, breaking through her spiral.
“We’re not fucked. And we’re not going to mess this up.
Yeah, she knew us, but the only thing that matters is what she sees now.
And what we’re going to show her is a husband and wife who are happy and disgustingly in love. We’re going to be fine.”
“We’re not! It wasn’t that long ago when I couldn’t kiss you without flinching!”
“It also wasn’t that long ago when I had you pinned against the wall in an alley and you were coming all over my cock.
” I stepped into the space between her legs, gripped her hips, and ran my nose up the column of her neck.
“And if I remember right, that was you riding me in our bed last night, wasn’t it? ”
She shivered at my words, her eyes heating as she stared at me, no doubt remembering the mind-blowing orgasm she’d had.
I trailed my fingers just under the hem of her shorts, brushing against warm skin. “If we’re gonna be under investigation, I think we need to double down on our practice.”
“Lincoln,” she said, trying to sound stern, but her voice had that telltale hitch I fucking loved. “You’re not serious.”
“I’m dead serious, hellcat. If we’re gonna sell this marriage, then I want Harper to take one look at you and know you’ve been thoroughly, repeatedly, enthusiastically fucked.”
She breathed out a laugh and shook her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
But she couldn’t hide how her thighs squeezed tight around my hips like she didn’t want to let me go.
“I don’t want her to wonder if it’s real.” I slid my hands up the wide openings of her shorts until I cupped her ass in my palms. “I want her to see how wrecked you are. Hair messy. Skin flushed. That sweet little pussy sore from how well you took your husband’s cock.”
Her breathing sped up as she curled her fingers around the edge of the counter like she was trying to hold herself together. Pretending like I wasn’t seconds from pulling her apart.
I kissed her jaw, her throat, her fluttering pulse. “It’d be irresponsible not to prep for the interview. Think of it like a warm-up.”
“A warm-up,” she repeated flatly.
“Exactly.” I pulled back far enough to give her a grin. “So much warm-up, it becomes muscle memory for you. I just want to make sure when she asks how married life is, you can’t answer without clenching your thighs and remembering how good I fucked you the night before.”
Willa attempted to shoot me a glare, but it fell flat because she couldn’t hide how fast her chest was rising or how heavy lidded her gaze was or how her thighs were already twitching like she was fighting the urge to wrap them around my waist.
“What do you think, wife?”
She huffed and shoved halfheartedly at my chest. “I think you’re an idiot.”
“True. But I’m your idiot.” I grabbed her hand and placed it over my cock. “And I’m currently a very hard idiot with forty-five minutes before I have to be at the bar.”
She swallowed thickly, her fingers curling around my dick.
I leaned in, brushing my lips over hers. “I think we should play a game. It’s called how many times can this jackass make his wife come before he has to leave?”
Her laugh was breathless, and the glare she shot me was entirely fake. But the way I dropped to my knees and made her scream was all too real.