Chapter 23
AVA
By the time the sun started to set, I was worn out, and the real party hadn’t even started yet.
We’d had one day of tranquility with just us and Lincoln’s friends on his island, then other people on the guest list started trickling in.
They had been arriving for a couple of days now.
Soon, the main villa was full, as well as the others lining the beach.
Every square inch of Cay d’Ava had been taken over by celebrities, influencers, athletes, models… designer clothes, expensive colognes, and fake air kisses galore. How did Lincoln survive in Hollywood? It was beyond exhausting!
Then again, years in the limelight made him an expert on how to maneuver.
Lincoln never left my side for too long.
He had this way of swooping in right when I needed a buffer.
He could make anyone laugh, turn any awkward introduction into something comfortable.
And when his hand settled on the small of my back, I didn’t flinch anymore.
I liked it. Too much.
Plus, Lincoln wasn’t really the typical celebrity. While he lived in LA, he mostly kept a low profile and only hung out with his close friends. This party was more for me than it was for him. For the hundredth time, my heart melted thinking about it.
I stood at the door between our adjoining rooms. After our heart-to-heart at the pool, we’d ignored the boundary and slept together each night…
Or should I say we fell asleep in the same bed after rounds of wild sex.
While things weren’t back to how they were between us, they were definitely heating up.
Taking a deep breath, I gave the door a light tap.
Why was I so nervous about giving Lincoln his gift?
I looked down at the small velvet box I held.
Inside were silver cufflinks. The cufflinks were beautiful, sleek, understated, and engraved with two simple letters: MM.
Mountain Man. My nickname for him back in the day.
They’d cost me a pretty penny. But now, handing Lincoln cufflinks felt ridiculous. He wore watches that cost more than my car. He owned an island, for goodness’ sake. And here I stood with cufflinks and a nickname.
Another glance at the tiny box, and I chickened out.
However, just as I turned to scurry away with my simple gift, the door opened.
I froze. Lincoln appeared wearing a towel hanging low on his hips.
Water still clung to the defined ridges of his torso.
A single drop rolled from his collarbone, trailed down his chest, and disappeared beneath the towel.
I was riveted by the path the droplet took.
Lincoln was fit. A work of art. The hottest giant—as I used to tease him about—on the planet. He was a mountain of chiselled muscle with a Hollywood face. Mountain Man indeed. Suddenly, I wanted to climb him.
He smiled. “I thought I heard knocking. Why didn’t you just come in?”
Clearing my throat and shoving aside my lascivious thoughts, I shrug. “I didn’t want to invade your privacy like that.”
Lincoln’s gaze dropped from my eyes to my mouth, then leisurely swept down the length of my body.
The heat in his eyes was unmistakable. “Baby,” he said, voice low and rough, “you are the one person I don’t mind invading my privacy.
I pray for you to invade my privacy daily.
” Then his eyes flicked to the hem of my dress, and his mouth curved into a wicked grin.
“It’s too bad you’re already dressed,” he murmured. “Or I’d invade your privacy right now.”
I giggled, but it came out breathy and uneven. When was the last time I giggled and blushed like this? “You’re incorrigible.”
“And you’re beautiful.” His eyes roamed again, slowly, as if memorizing every inch of me.
The gown I wore was one of the expensive creations he’d bought me. It was deep sapphire blue, strapless, backless, and clinging to my waist before flaring slightly at the hips. It skimmed the floor, but a dangerous slit up one thigh revealed plenty of skin.
I’d pinned my hair up in a soft, romantic style and wore diamond drop earrings that matched the gown. The lunches and dinners leading up to this had been all casual, tropical affairs with sundresses, slacks, and floral prints. Tonight, the main event was old-Hollywood themed.
“You look amazing, Ava,” he said, eyes locking with mine again.
If it were possible, I would have blushed harder, but I doubted I could get any redder. “Thank you. I, um… bought you something. A birthday gift.”
His eyes lit up, and he stepped aside to let me in. “You got me something else? I thought this morning was my gift.”
Oh, my God. The wicked smirk on his face made me roll my eyes. I’d sauntered into his room at twelve a.m., wanting to be the first to wish him happy birthday. I’d then proceeded to make it happy indeed… on my knees.
“Seriously?” I scoffed.
He sucked in a breath as if reliving the moment. “It was a wonderful surprise,” he purred.
My face burned, but I was pleased that I’d pleased him. “Blowjobs aren’t considered birthday gifts, Lincoln.”
“Could have fooled me.” His silly grin faded. “Seriously, you didn’t have to buy me anything.”
“Well, it’s nothing big.” I almost didn’t want to give it to him. What if he hated it? He probably owned tons of cufflinks that cost more than I made in a week.
He chuckled. “Are you planning to ever let me see my gift?”
Realizing I still held on to the box for dear life, I muttered, “Sorry,” and handed it to him.
He flicked it open. His gaze softened. He picked one up between two fingers, and when he turned it, he saw the small engraving. He didn’t say anything, just stared at them, then at me.
My heart plummeted. God, he hated them. I knew cufflinks were lame.
A smile tugged at his lips. “MM. Mountain Man?”
I nodded.
His eyes danced with raw affection. “These are perfect.”
“They are? I mean, I know they’re probably not as nice as—”
His mouth covered mine, swallowing my self-conscious rant. “They’re from you,” he whispered. “They’re perfect. Thank you.”
I exhaled, feeling a little better because there was genuine gratitude in his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
As we stared at each other, it hit me that our fake romance was starting to feel a little too real. I mean, we behaved too much like a real couple even when we were alone. That was dangerous. Suddenly, I had to escape.
“Er… I’ll let you get dressed.”
He gave me a quizzical look as I all but sprinted out of the room.
Fifteen minutes later, I’d regained my composure and convinced myself that Lincoln and I shouldn't even think about getting back together. Sure, we talked. Sure, I forgave him. But that didn’t mean we should be together.
He could break my heart all over again. Perhaps I wouldn’t survive a second time.
Lincoln arrived on my side of the door wearing a tux. The black fabric clung perfectly to his broad shoulders, tapered around his trim waist, and the crisp white shirt underneath contrasted beautifully with his tan skin. My heart swelled because he wore the cufflinks I’d given him.
“You clean up nice,” I said.
“Thank you.” He smiled as he walked toward me. “Ready to go?”
“Just about.” I reached up and automatically began to adjust his bow tie. My fingers brushed his jaw. The small contact seemed to ignite something between us. That wasn’t surprising. There was always heat lingering between us. His eyes dropped to my mouth.
Bad idea. Still, I wanted him to kiss me. However, if I let it happen, we might never leave this room. Mia would be disappointed if the makeup she worked so hard on got ruined.
Realizing I was dangerously close to falling under his spell again, I dropped my hands as if he’d burned me and took a step back. “There,” I said. “All set.”
His brow furrowed. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I replied too quickly.
His eyes narrowed. Before he could press further, I turned toward the door and grabbed my clutch. “Come on. It’s your party. We should get down there.”
For a moment, he didn’t move. I felt his gaze on me, lingering.
Then I heard his footsteps behind me. “After you, Miss Montgomery.”
I didn’t dare look back at him.
The path to the ballroom was lit with sconces and flickering lanterns.
The building itself looked like something out of a classic film set with arched windows, columns, and double doors.
Lincoln said the building was already here when he bought the island.
It seemed the previous owner had been thinking about turning the place into a resort, too.
Music pulsed faintly from inside, a sultry jazz number that matched the Old Hollywood theme perfectly. When we reached the entrance, I dropped my hand from Lincoln’s. “You should go in first. You’re the man of the hour.”
“We’re going in together.”
“This is your night, Lincoln.”
His only response was an impatient frown as he wound an arm around my waist and pulled me closer. Without a word, he pushed the doors open and carried me right in with him.
The room exploded with light and sound. Chandeliers sparkled, champagne glasses reflected light, and voices chanted Lincoln’s name while some people clapped and whistled.
A roar of happy birthdays reached us.
I was overwhelmed by the size of the crowd, the noise, and the sheer extravagance. My eyes dazzled with the beams of massive diamonds and couture gowns. Flashes went off from cameras, nearly blinding me.
My step faltered, but Lincoln’s hold on me was firm and possessive.
“I’ve got you,” he said for my ears only.
My heart stuttered. He used to say that to me all the time when I was anxious or scared. Those words from him still made me feel safe. I still believed him when I shouldn’t. I stifled a groan. Was I being foolish, falling in love with Lincoln all over again?
There was no time to freak out because I was swept into a sea of good-looking, rich people who greeted me with enthusiasm simply because they thought I was dating the legendary Lincoln Ford.
After a while, I got used to the attention. Lincoln’s support helped. He was ever-present, holding on to me or offering reassuring smiles. When we got a second alone, I nudged him. “I know you did this for me, but please tell me you’re enjoying yourself.” I wanted him to enjoy his birthday.
He smiled. “I’ve got you by my side. Of course, I’m enjoying myself.”
A fist squeezed around my heart. When he said things like that so easily and casually, it made me feel like we were more than we were.
Minutes later, I was peeled away from Lincoln’s side by the girls—Olivia, Charlotte, and Mia.
Mia wanted a picture of just the girls. I’d learned she was a bubbly sentimentalist. I liked the wives, as I’d been calling them.
They were sweet and supportive. Charlotte beamed at me and Lincoln whenever she saw us together.
I was confused by her reaction, but I liked her adventurous spirit and humor so much.
Later, Jaden found me in the throng. We exchanged a warm greeting—he lifted me off my feet in a bear hug. I didn’t mind. I was accustomed to such greetings because I had a doting brother.
“Ava, you need to hurry back to LA,” he said. “I miss you following me around.”
“Ha ha.” I playfully whacked his arms with my purse.
He grinned, then it turned devilish. “So, you and Lincoln, huh? I guess dinner that one time went well.”
I rolled my eyes. “Alright, pipe down, Cupid.” Lincoln shared the joke of Jaden telling him to shoot his shot.
Jaden laughed. After some more chatter, we parted ways. I made my way to Lincoln, who looked to be trapped in a conversation that he wanted to escape.
When I rescued him, he gave me a big thank-you. Then we got down to business. He pointed out who I should be talking to—folks associated with Phoenix. I’d spotted her somewhere, but there were so many people, I lost sight of her.