Chapter 15 Lincoln #2
“So give us something new to talk about.” Snickering, she scoops ice cream onto her tongue.
“What weird thing did you do as a kid? Do you believe in Santa? Are you sure your sister isn’t happily cohabitating with a man, but you’re so annoying with the big brother stuff, she refuses to tell you?
She probably has a million penis stories to tell, and no one to tell them to.
” Beaming, she swings her eyes up to mine.
“How would you feel if I called her? We could exchange notes, and I could make a new friend. You were buddies with my brother. It’s only fair I make friends with your sister. ”
You’re not calling my sister, because then you’ll figure out how much of a fucking liar I am.
I firm my lips and bump her shoulder with mine. “I don’t believe in Santa, but I kept the magic alive for so long, my baby sister probably walked through high school calling everyone else a liar.”
“Oops.” She grits her teeth. “You set her up to look silly.”
“Not my brightest idea,” I concede, releasing the tension in my jaw.
“But I set her haters straight and broke the news to her gently. I would know if she’s cohabitating with a man because she would tell me.
And don’t make that face,” I grumble when she does, in fact, make a face.
“It’s not naivety. She’s asked me to run a guy’s ID in the past, to make sure he was who he said he was. ”
“And as someone with private investigative experience,” she drawls, “you were all too happy to oblige.”
“Yes. And lucky I did, because—circling back to the entitled white male nonsense—we were able to establish some of these dudes were duds. They think love bombing is a shortcut to trapping women. Which is probably true for some, I guess. For those who don’t know better.
But grand gestures don’t fool my sister. They only make her suspicious.”
“So, you found what? Criminals? Liars? Bank robbers?”
“Corporate jockstraps, mostly, driving Lambos they couldn’t afford, working jobs different from those they told her about, living in houses they would never own, and so deep in debt, green leaked out their ears.”
“It’s all about money? Their personalities don’t factor in?”
“You’re trying to make me sound like an asshole.” I loop my arm around hers and pull her closer. “It’s not all about money, but drowning in debt means he has poor decision-making skills. If he’s lying about his job, then…”
He’s a liar. Like me.
Fuck.
“If the repo man is taking his assets every time she turns around, then he’s not really someone I want in her life.
Honesty and stability matter. I’d rather she were with a modest man with a regular job and less zeros in the bank than a tech-bro fuckwit who’ll leave her holding the bag when he dips out.
So yeah,” I conclude, meeting her eyes, “it matters, and I’m more than willing to run his name if she’s thinking about getting serious.
She trusts me enough to ask, and to maintain that trust, I provide proof, not opinions. ”
“Have you ever given her the green light when she asked about someone?” Her lips twitch with a smile. “She says she met this dude, Brandon. She likes him. She wants you to check him out. If he’s decent, do you give her the go-ahead?”
Done with my dessert, I drop it in the trash as we pass a can. And when Nova offers hers, I take it and repeat. “I’ve green-lit one or two of them. None named Brandon, though.”
Wrapping her arm around mine, she rests her cheek on the ball of my shoulder and snuggles in. “What happened to those guys? The ones you approved?”
I lead her off the curb again, crossing the street and angling toward a small bridge that disappears into a swatch of thick trees.
“They dated or whatever, and I guess it fizzled out. Financial acumen and honesty aren’t the only things required for a successful relationship.
If there’s no chemistry, then there’s no future.
But I’ve proven to my sister, at least, that I’ll tell the truth and approve the worthy. ”
“Would you green light you?” She unravels her arms from mine and wanders along the footbridge on her own, trekking to the highest point and trailing her fingertips over the shiny black handrail.
Turning back, she creates a stunning vision, her dress fluttering in the breeze and loose locks of hair tickling her bare shoulders.
“If you were researching someone with your exact details—age, job, history, bank balance. If Scarlett were looking to date someone like you, would you be okay with that?”
“No.” Fuck. Shut up! Shut the fuck up, Castro.
I set my hands in my pockets and mosey up the bridge, slowing only when her perfume fills my lungs, and stopping when she’s forced to bend her neck to meet my eyes.
“No, I wouldn’t approve of me for you or her or anyone else.
And if we’re being truly honest, if Ryan knew I was here, if he knew I dream of you…
that I think of you when we’re not in the same room…
” God, why won’t you shut up? “If he knew my lungs hurt unless the oxygen I breathe was once yours, he’d end my life long before I got close enough to touch. ”
Her smile lowers into a gentle pout. Her soft exhale, bathing my chin and daring me to lean in and taste it firsthand.
“We could have been friends, Nova. We have a few things in common, and fuck knows, he might’ve thought I was a trustworthy guy to go to war with.
We probably would’ve enjoyed a beer and talked about life together.
But any man who loves his sister wouldn’t be okay with this.
” I slide my hand along the uninjured side of her neck and down to rest over her chest.
Over her pounding heart.
“I’m not okay with this. I didn’t come to town intending to develop feelings for you. But here we are anyway, standing under the stars, hidden amongst trees so it feels like we’re the only two people on the planet. And goddammit, Nova Nichols, all I want to do is lean in and kiss you.”
She drags her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes flickering with wariness. Surprise. Fear, perhaps, but with desire too. She swallows, so the slow slide of her throat is a physical vibration beneath my palm.
Walk away, Lincoln!
“It feels wrong to want you,” I rasp. “I didn’t earn you. I sure as fuck am not worthy. But more importantly, you don’t deserve what I represent. You did nothing to warrant this kind of punishment.”
“You think knowing you is a punishment?” She runs her tongue along her lips so they glisten under starlight. “You think your existence is a bad thing?”
“Yes.” For this, at least, I can speak the complete truth. “Maybe it seems fun for now, because we’re new, and flirting is exciting. You need a distraction, and I’m the perfect guy for that. But eventually, you’ll see the bigger picture. That’s when you’ll understand.”
“What if I only want to see this picture for now?” She wraps her arms over my shoulders, curling her hands in and brushing the tips of her fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck.
Her touch is like electricity in my veins. Her stroking fingers are as comforting as sliding into a warm bath.
“What if I’m just so, so sick of the bigger picture?” she whispers. “My life has always been about the things everyone else understands, but I’m always left searching for sense. Like the world is an abstract painting of squiggly lines and splotches of color.”
“Nova—”
“Ya know, when you’re staring so hard, for so long, trying with everything in you to understand? But eventually, you’re forced to admit your vision is no better, and now you have a pounding headache, too.”
Her eyes flicker with gold and brown. Blue and green. So many flecks. So much of her soul, all wrapped up in two beautiful orbs.
She’s my abstract painting. She’s a million secrets and torments, promises and possibilities. She’s someone I had no clue existed a mere few weeks ago. Now, I’m not sure I’ll ever forget her, no matter how many years or jobs or people come between us.
She’s a picture I want so badly to understand, but for as long as I’m me and she’s Nova—and Ryan is dead, and Richard is looking for a hidden key—all she can be is squiggly lines and penance for the crimes I’ve committed.
“I have a headache, Lincoln.” Her furrowed brows create uneven lines between her eyes.
“I’ve been staring my entire life, but nothing has ever truly made sense.
They sheltered me and promised everything would always be okay.
” Stepping onto her toes and using me to pull herself closer, she stops just two inches from my lips.
“I’m sick of trying to un-blur and understand everything out there when, as far as I’m concerned, I kinda like what I see right here in front of me. ”
“Nova—”
She pulls herself another inch closer. “Stop worrying about later. Stop worrying about everyone else. Why won’t you just kiss me?”
“Fuck.” I wrap my arms around her torso, crushing her ribs and securing her against my chest. Her breath feathers across my tongue. Her lips, a hairsbreadth from mine. “You’re tempting the devil, Nova, and I’m not man enough to stop you.”
She brushes her lips over mine. Testing, but chaste. Breathy, but unsure. “You’re supposed to kiss me at the end of our first date.” She sighs and comes in for a second taste, her lashes fluttering closed and tickling my skin. “Be the devil if you must. He’s who I agreed to come out with tonight.”
Fuck it.
I dive in and open her wide with a hungry swipe of my tongue, groaning when she cries out, and biting when she grabs on and climbs an inch off the ground.
I memorize her body under my palms. Over her hips and down to her luscious ass.
I want to lift her up and claim her for myself, to take her here.
To take her home. To own her for the rest of my godforsaken life, and protect her from the very monster Aster hired me to be.
But doing so would be wrong. For as long as she’s blind to my true motive for being in Mount Gaines, every fucking touch, every taste, every look I covet is a sin.
Someday, when all this shakes out, and she knows better, she’ll realize she was tricked.
So I bring my hands up again, setting them carefully on her ribs.
I don’t deserve more.
“You pulled away.” She breaks our kiss with a gasp, only to dive in again and nip at my lips. Biting them. Tasting. Panting.
I breathe her all the way to the base of my lungs. I’d rather hold my breath and die than exhale and lose her.
“You were here.” She wraps her palms around my wrists and attempts to push down. “You jumped in with me for a moment. But then you stopped again.”
“I’m trying to be a gentleman.” I search for nonchalance. For an easy smile, lest I admit I’m her worst fucking enemy. Then I lean in and slide my tongue along her lips. I allow this, at least. To taste her. To latch on in the dark and secret away a moment only we know about.
A thief will always be a thief. A liar will always lie.
What’s another ten seconds hidden amongst trees and beautiful mountains?
We’re just a man and a woman. Two humans inexplicably attracted to one another. If it were a different time, a different place, we might even get to be each other’s everything.
Someday, when this mission is complete and I’m out of her life, I’ll think back to tonight, to this moment, and know I did the right thing by letting go.
But fuck, I’ve never wanted so badly to do the wrong thing.
“Lifting your dress in public is not gentlemanly.” I draw her lips between my teeth and tuck her desperate whimper away for later.
For when I’m all alone and so fucking needy for more time with the one woman I can’t have.
“If we stay up here and your tongue remains in my mouth, I’m gonna want to do wildly inappropriate things to you.
And though I know we’d both enjoy it—” I search her glossy eyes.
“There’s a line one shouldn’t cross, and I think that line was,” I hook a thumb over my shoulder, “back there.”
“Fun police.” She lowers to flat feet and leans into me, pressing her forehead against my chest. “Will you always be the voice of reason? Because honestly? Dating horny white men who don’t care about me is immensely more gratifying in the short-term than dating someone’s big brother.
You already have so much experience stopping a girl from doing what she wants. ”
“We can have fun another day.” Fuck me, my voice cracks in ways it hasn’t done since I was a nervous teenager. “Once you’ve had time to process. Once you’ve decided this is what you actually want, and not a result of that trauma bond we were talking about.”
“Therapy speak is not sexy,” she harrumphs.
“And just so you know, I intend to call you the guy who couldn’t close, even when I was willing.
Like the small-penis guy.” Stepping away, she glances over her shoulder with a devious smile.
“The next guy I flirt with will know about you and Justin. You’ll be legends. ”
“Fan-fucking-tastic.” I snatch her wrist and yank her back, draping my arm over her shoulders and smothering her in a hug, if only to silence her taunting laughter. “I’m out here trying to be decent. And for my troubles, I’m immortalized alongside the micro-dick.”
“Maybe next time you’ll close.” Wriggling out of my grip and tangling her fingers with mine, she starts us back down the bridge, swinging our arms like this is nothing more than a leisurely walk. “You’re a good kisser, though.” She peeks up from the corners of her eyes. “Talented with your tongue.”
“Yeah?” My cock hasn’t been this fucking hard, this unsatisfied, since tenth grade. And I was trying to be a gentleman back then, too. “You wish you knew what I could do with it.”
“Maybe next time,” she taunts, spinning and wrapping herself in my arm around her neck. “I had a nice date, though. Thanks for dinner.”