Chapter 22 Sunny
SUNNY
Iwiped my hand across my eyes as I scrubbed the already clean wall. My shoulders burned with the strain, the pain radiating down my arms.
I ignored it, the throb in my bones nothing compared to the pain in my chest. My heart ached with loss.
Linc.
He was all I could think of. What he insisted he had to do.
It was going to kill him. All of his work—everything he’d strived so hard for would be wiped out with one horrible move to try to protect me.
He refused to listen to me. To Abby. He was hell-bent on destroying himself, refusing to believe there was any other way.
I would clean this bakery a hundred times over—close it, in fact—if it meant he didn’t stoop to the level of his father.
I had been serious when I told him he was on a slippery slope.
He would justify this action. Then do it again.
Over and over until it became a part of him—until the good I knew he had within him was gone, and he became the one thing he fought against.
The wall in front of me became blurry, and I had to blink my eyes to clear them. The sound of a throat clearing behind me was startling.
“Um, boss? Someone here to see you.”
“Tell them to come back,” I ordered. Lots of people wanted to see me today, asking why we were closed, what the notice on the door was about, demanding to be allowed to help.
“I think you’ll see me.”
At the sound of Martha Tremont’s voice, I froze, turning my head to meet her gaze.
“A moment of your time, Ms. Hilbert.”
I slid from the stool, wiping my hands, wondering what was about to happen. She looked like herself, but different. The usual frown was missing from her face, the look of distaste she always wore when she looked at me, gone. Her expression wasn’t friendly, but it was no longer hostile.
“I received an incorrect report about your bakery. The notice has been removed.” She handed me the green and white pass form. “You can stop cleaning now.”
I shook my head, but she held up her hand. “It was a mistake. A novice inspector going overboard. I have rectified the situation.”
“Linc,” I mumbled.
She cleared her throat. “Ah, yes. Mr. Webber. I saw him earlier today—we had an eye-opening chat. Cleared the air, so to speak. I do hope he changes his mind and returns to Mission Cove.” She crossed her arms, staring at me meaningfully. “He is always welcome here.”
I didn’t understand. What had happened?
“He is so much like his mother.” She paused, and I was certain she almost smiled.
“Nothing like his father. Nothing.” Then she turned.
“I have to go to the dry-cleaning store now. More errors to follow up on. The work of the deputy mayor is never done, you know. My citizens need to be cared for.” She lifted her hand and disappeared.
I stare after her, blinking.
What had transpired between her and Linc? Something big—but not what I feared, judging from her demeanor. It wasn’t friendly, but the hostility was gone—or at least lessened.
Her words rang through my head. “Nothing like his father. Nothing.”
I had to find out what happened. I needed to talk to Linc.
Except, Abby had told me he was leaving.
I had heard him walk out this morning, my heart breaking as I turned my back on him before I lost my nerve and ran to him, begging once more for him to choose us over doing what he felt he had to do.
Choosing the light he so often said I was to him, over the dark.
Abby came up beside me, and I handed her the form. “We can stop cleaning now.”
“Did he…?” Her voice trailed off.
“I don’t think so.”
“What happened?”
I yanked off my apron. “I don’t know, but I have to find out. I need to get to him before he leaves, Abby, or I may never see him again.”
She pressed her keys into my hand. “Go.”
Idrove up the hill, my heart in my mouth.
Linc’s car wasn’t in the driveway, but the front door stood open.
I ran inside, heading to the den. I stopped in the doorway, horrified at the sight before me.
The room was wrecked—the desk overturned, the chair smashed.
Pictures were torn off the walls, flung around.
The fireplace was wet, rivulets of water running onto the expensive floors and carpet, a pile of sodden ash in the grate.
What the hell had happened here?
I dialed Abby, panicked. “He’s not here,” I gasped. “The den is wrecked, his car is gone.” A sob escaped. “He’s gone.”
“Wait,” she instructed.
I looked around the room, noticing the metal box Linc had dug my letters from open and lying on its side. I bent and looked inside. It was empty. Another smaller box was upside down on the rug. I didn’t touch it.
“Okay, we track each other’s cell. He’s still in the area. East of you. He’s stationary.”
“East? Oh God, I know where he is.”
“Go to him, Sunny. He thinks he’s lost you.”
“I’m on my way.”
Linc’s car was parked on the deserted area of land by the park. I hurried toward the ridge, frowning at the rhythmic sound that grew louder as I approached.
Linc was sitting in our hideaway, a pile of USB drives in front of him.
He had a large rock in his hand, a look of determination on his face as he pounded the small pieces of metal into tiny, broken fragments.
Soot streaked his face, one hand showing an angry burn.
He was so focused, he didn’t even notice me at first. When he met my eyes, the heartbreak and pain in his gaze would forever be embedded in my mind.
“All gone. All of his dirty, horrible secrets gone,” he raged, his expression wild.
“Linc,” I murmured. “I was at the house—what happened?”
“I couldn’t do it. I tried—fuck—I tried. But I can’t.” He held up a mangled piece of metal. “I can’t be the kind of person who does these things to people. Lord their mistakes over their heads, makes them pay over and again for a moment in their life they want to forget.”
“I know,” I soothed. “It’s okay, Linc. You made the right choice.”
“We all make mistakes. He made mistakes, but no one ever took the great Franklin Thomas to task.”
“I know,” I repeated. “You don’t have to do anything for me, Linc, except be Linc.”
“It was never enough for him!” he roared.
“My mother tried. Jesus, Sunny, I’ve remembered things—the fights, her pleading with him to come back to her.
The way he would sneer and call her weak.
” He rubbed his face, ignoring the fact that he smeared the soot even more.
“And all the time he was fucking around on her.” His voice dropped.
“And I don’t think it was only with the mayor’s wife. ”
“You aren’t him,” I said and, with a bravado I wasn’t feeling, grabbed his hand, stilling his frantic movements. “You. Are. Not. Your. Father,” I repeated slowly.
He stopped, blinking. “No. I am my mother’s son.”
“Yes.” I dared to inch closer, pressing my knee to his. “You are. You are Lincoln Webber. You have so much good in you.”
“I’ll help if you let me, Sunny. I can wash walls, fix things. I’ll have my lawyer there when they come back, and we’ll fight it. Let me do that. Let me do something,” he pleaded. “Tell me I didn’t lose you.” He hung his head, his shoulders slumping. “I-I can’t take it if I did that.”
I took advantage of his sudden stillness and crawled into his lap. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him as tightly as I could. He buried his face in my breasts, enfolding me in his embrace. “Sunny,” he whispered brokenly.
I slid my hands around to his shoulders, running them up the tightly corded muscles of his neck. I cupped his face, forcing him to meet my eyes.
“I’m here, Linc. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
He stared up at me, blinking. “You still love me?”
“I never stopped.”
He yanked me to him, holding me so tight, I could barely breathe. It was as if he couldn’t get close enough. I touched my mouth to his ear.
“I love you,” I promised, over and again. I had a feeling he needed to hear me say it. I wouldn’t stop until he believed me.
He gripped me, his shoulder shaking with the force of his emotions.
Incoherent words fell from his lips. I didn’t try to make sense of them.
I knew he had to get them out, not let them fester.
I let him rage until he was spent. A long shudder went through him.
I dropped more kisses to his head, stroked his neck, and held him.
Slowly, I felt him return, the feeling around us changing, growing—becoming heated.
His body trembled, his already tight embrace turning into a vise. “Sunny,” he moaned. “I need you.” I could feel his need in the tightness of his body, the desperation in his voice, and the rigidness of his cock pressed between us.
“Yes,” I gasped. “I need you, Linc. Now.”
I tore open his shirt, wanting to feel his skin. I reached between us, yanking on his belt, tearing the material as I pulled and grasped at the closure and zipper. I reached inside, his hot cock filling my hand. He groaned as I stroked him.
Linc’s large hands delved under the cotton shorts I had worn to clean the bakery, and with a low growl, he tore them off my body.
I hadn’t bothered with underwear this morning.
I gasped as the cool air met my skin. He grasped my buttocks, cupping them, stroking and squeezing.
“Sunny,” he mumbled over and again. “Inside you. I need inside you.”
“Up,” I commanded, marveling at the ease with which he lifted his body and mine off the hard ground just enough so I could pull his pants down to free his cock.
Seconds later, he was inside me, one hard thrust making us both cry out.
He slid his hand up my back, burying it in my hair, holding the nape of my neck.
He fastened his other hand on my hip, using it to guide me.
I buried my face in his neck, moaning in long gasps at the sensation of him filling me.