Chapter 8 Linc
LINC
Iwatched Sunny all morning, observing her over the screen of my laptop.
She was cordial and welcoming, greeting customers by name, already preparing their orders when they walked in.
I recognized a few people by her greetings but felt no pull to stand and reacquaint myself with anyone.
I had never been close to a lot of people growing up, school mates included.
I was polite and friendly, but distant. Mostly due to the fact that my father’s influence was too great, and simply due to the fact that most other kids found me strange.
They had no idea of the rules or pressure put upon me by my father, so it was easier for them to shrug off my behavior as different.
And everyone knew how kids felt about different.
They shied away from it, especially if it meant going against the majority.
I had been a lonely kid, except for Sunny.
She had been in my life so long, when we were apart, the pain was a physical pull.
As I sat in her shop, the sun streaming in the window, the scent of baking permeating the air, and her within my sight, that pain was now a low, dull ache. I didn’t know what the future held for us, but I knew I wanted to find out.
She approached the table, another plate in hand. A thick sandwich sat on the simple china, and she held a glass of lemonade in her other hand. She slid them both beside my computer and sat across from me.
“Do you plan on sitting at this table all day?” she asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “I do have a no-loitering policy.”
I pursed my lips, studying her. She had always been a pretty girl, her unique coloring making her stand out.
But the girl was gone—replaced by a captivating, beautiful woman.
Her strawberry-blond hair had darkened to a soft auburn, the glints of red catching the sunlight as she moved her head.
Her once wide, innocent brown eyes were intelligent and warm, but they held a depth of sadness that I hated to see.
Most people wouldn’t notice because they weren’t looking hard enough.
But I was looking.
Sunny was still tiny, but her frame was muscular, her arms defined, her shoulders held straight, and her curves more pronounced.
She was incredibly sexy. Her hair was swept up, exposing her delicate neck, the soft-looking skin inviting.
I recalled kissing that neck, tasting her at the juncture where her neck sloped into her shoulders.
I hoped to taste her there again.
My glance fell to her hands that rested on the table.
Small, with thin fingers. Her nails were short but neat, manicured, and buffed.
She was never able to grow them, even as a teenager, and she was always jealous of the girls with long nails, filed to a point and painted bright colors.
I was glad to see although she could afford manicures now, she kept them natural. It suited her.
“Linc?”
I lifted my gaze. She stared back at me, her smile growing. “Do you want to take a picture?” she teased.
Without blinking, I lifted my phone and snapped a picture of her. My fast reaction caught her off guard, and the picture captured her startled but amused expression.
“Happy now?”
“Yes.”
She pushed the plate my way. “If you’re going to sit there all afternoon and glower at my customers over the top of your computer, eat some lunch.”
“I’m not glowering, I’m observing. I like watching you in your environment.”
She rolled her eyes. “You glower.”
“Maybe when your male customers stay too long.”
“Whatever, Linc. You’ve had a lot of admiring glances your way as well.”
“I only see you.”
She smiled. “You’re crazy.”
I held up my phone. “Dammit, Sunny, you’re gorgeous,” I muttered. “How can you not see that?”
She blushed, ignoring my words. “Eat your lunch.”
I looked at the sandwich. “No biscuit?”
“Not everything has a biscuit, Linc.”
“It should.”
“We make the bread too.”
I sighed dramatically and gave in. “Fine. I’ll suffer.”
“You’ve eaten six biscuits today. Surely, that is enough.”
“In your opinion. I have ten years to make up for.”
“You haven’t had a biscuit in ten years?”
“No. They reminded me of you. It was too painful. At the place I was at, the food was bland. Nutritious, I was informed, but bland. When I got back, I gorged myself on everything I missed while I was away, but I couldn’t touch biscuits.”
Sadness flashed over her features. I hated to see it—we’d both been sad enough. So, I winked. “Just saying, Sunny-girl. I have a lot of time to make up for. Keep the biscuits coming.”
“No one has called me that in ten years.” She smiled, although her eyes remained sad. “I’m not a girl anymore, Linc.”
I studied her briefly, then wrapped my hand around hers. “You’ll always be the girl I fell in love with, Sunny. You will always be my girl.”
Her breath caught and she stood. “I have to get back to work. Are you planning on occupying a table all day?”
I nodded. “Feel free to add rent to the tab.”
She walked away, peeking over her shoulder. “Bank on it, Webber.”
I liked how my chosen last name sounded coming from her lips.
It gave me a thrill and made me smile. I watched her disappear through the kitchen door.
Had I said too much? Had hearing the word love frightened her?
It flew out of my mouth without conscious thought.
Ten years hadn’t changed my feelings for her.
No amount of time would. I had met women—amazing, smart, beautiful women over the years, and never once had any of them even interested me beyond a date or two.
I tried but they were never her. Now that she was back in my life, they never would be.
Sunny Jenson stole my heart the day she gazed wide-eyed and longingly at my box of crayons, asking in her soft little voice if she could “bowwow” the pretty purple one to color her dragon.
I had handed her the box, letting her have any color she wanted.
Her smile had been so bright, it eclipsed the sun itself, and since that day, I had lived to see that smile.
That was never going to change.
I knew I was going to have to prove myself to her all over again, but I was determined to do so. I could only hope she was as anxious for that to happen as I was.
A few moments later, the kitchen door opened, giving me a full view of Sunny working at a large table.
I heard her tell Shannon to leave it open, which afforded me a clear line of vision to look at her.
Every so often, I would lift my eyes to meet hers, and I realized she was checking on me as often as I checked on her.
I thought that, perhaps, I had my answer.
Irubbed the back of my neck, massaging at the stiff muscles.
Sitting at a table, drinking too much coffee, and hunched over my laptop was not great for my posture—or my shoulders.
Still, I was loath to leave—even to go to the hotel I had booked to stay at.
My original plans had been to stay only one night, but I had extended my stay at the hotel.
It was new, on the outskirts of town, and in no way associated with my father or me.
Neutral territory with no memories attached to it.
It wasn’t at all like the luxurious places I was used to staying these days, but it was fine.
It was small but the room spotless and the bed comfortable.
It didn’t help me sleep last night, but I doubted anything would have helped.
I’d contacted my assistant this morning with instructions to go to my place and pack a bag for me.
I knew my housekeeper would have done so, but Abby had been with me a long time, and she knew exactly what I would want packed and brought.
While she was here, we could also sit and discuss my schedule for the next while, since I hoped I would be here for some time.
One of the perks of being my own boss was that I answered to no one but myself.
I knew I couldn’t hang out in Sunny’s restaurant every day, but for now, that was where I planned to be.
The place became quiet as the afternoon wore on.
The small staff she employed stayed busy, cleaning and prepping for the following day.
About three o’clock, a man strolled in, carrying an armful of linens.
He set it on the counter, leaning on the glass, looking comfortable in the shop.
His face was familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.
I bristled when Sunny came from the kitchen, greeting him warmly, kissing him on the cheek, and chatting to him.
Their posture was relaxed and easy, suggesting a level of intimacy between them.
My annoyance grew as I watched him lay his hand on her arm as they shared a private joke.
The rational part of my brain knew I had no claim on Sunny. That for the past ten years we had lived separate lives. I was under no illusions that she had been pining away for me and had shut herself off from the world. She was too beautiful and vibrant.
However, the caveman part of me wanted to walk over and grab the stranger’s hand and yank it off her arm. Stand beside her and pull her close.
Claim her.
Which would probably end up with me on the floor after she kneed me in the balls. I had a feeling Sunny wouldn’t take my gesture very well.
So, I sat and glared, hating the stranger. Hating the time that had separated us. Hating my father even more—something I didn’t think was possible.
Then Sunny looked my way, smiled, and gestured for me to come over. I unfurled myself from the table, my legs protesting as I stood. I crossed the floor of the shop, wondering why the stranger was grinning so widely and why Sunny seemed so happy.
Before I could stop myself, I moved beside her and wrapped my arm around her waist, tugging her close. “You gestured?” I teased, pressing a kiss to her head while holding the stranger’s gaze, letting him know who she belonged to.
Apparently, the caveman had won.