Chapter 29 Elizabeth
ELIZABETH
@pancakesareelite:
What’s your dream girl like?
@theanswerisno:
Mystery face. Mystery personal life. Loves gaming and laughs at all my jokes
@pancakesareelite:
Hahahahahahaha
Lincoln was missing. No one had heard from him, not even Mr. Anders. People around the office were placing bets on whether he’d died.
Death by unsolicited massage.
A mixture of shame and sadness swirled in my stomach.
I sent multiple emails. Only work-related. Because I had no idea how to say Sorry for getting handsy with you; I forgot you’re my boss.
Or maybe he didn’t want me to apologize? I hadn’t imagined the way he’d unwound under my touch or the sounds of enjoyment that had vibrated through him and against my fingertips.
I saw the intense look in his eyes before, the soft blush in his cheeks afterward.
Lincoln Carden was attracted to me. I knew what attraction looked like, and I’d been searching for it in his eyes for a long, long time.
But it would ruin me to risk it all for him.
Still, I would. As pathetic as that may be.
Because every part of me wanted to be with him in any way he’d take me.
One night, even one kiss from him, would be better than anything I’d experienced with anyone else.
The few seconds I spent in his arms feeling safe and cared for were already better than so many years of my life.
I did not imagine his enjoyment. But I also hadn’t imagined his sudden discomfort.
And to make matters worse, Link hadn’t replied either. Maybe I’d scared him off with my last message. Maybe he wasn’t Lincoln.
But if he was… Would that be better or worse?
I looked down at the drawing in front of me.
It was covered in red pen, as though someone had bled over it.
In Lincoln’s absence, one of the urban engineers had taken to giving me work, and I had no idea how to complete it.
I made error after error, but he never helped me. He only told me it was wrong.
Was I meant to know all this stuff? Was Lincoln going above and beyond every time he taught me something?
I dug my nails into my scalp. Think, Lily. Figure it out. Now. Because if you don’t, you won’t get this job, which means no money, which means Mom did all that for nothing, and in the end, Douglas would be right.
There was only one week left of this internship, and I was deep in my self-imposter era and couldn’t figure out whether I was any better or worse than when I’d started.
I could already hear his voice: Waste of time.
But another voice came through, louder and real.
“Elizabeth?”
Someone neared. I shook the heaviness from my head.
“Elizabeth?”
My head snapped up, and I met Lincoln’s soft brown gaze—the one that melted away so many of my fears. And now, seeing him here after thinking about him nonstop since I last touched him exacerbated them.
“You’re here,” I said. “Thank goodness, you’re here.”
He leaned his hip against my desk, his brows hugging. “You look upset.” His gaze shot down to the drawing in front of me. “Oh.”
“It’s awful,” I whined, but I couldn’t help it. Lincoln was back, and that made me feel like it was okay to dig into my insecurities and lay them open for him to see. “Just when I thought I was getting the hang of it, this happens. I have no idea what I’m doing. I need to rethink my career choice.”
Lincoln lifted the drawing and brought it close to his face. “When did you graduate?”
“You know I’ve just graduated.”
“And you think someone who just graduated is meant to know everything about being an engineer?” he asked in the calmest voice. He lowered the drawing until he could look at me over the top of the Arch D sheet. One dark eyebrow popped upward. “Cocky, are we?”
“N-no,” I stammered. “But…”
He tossed the drawing aside and turned his full attention on me. “But what, Elizabeth?”
“I feel like I’m wasting everyone’s time and resources,” I admitted, swallowing the lump and hearing Douglas’s voice over and over.
Lincoln slid along the desk, scooting closer.
“Jameson, who I assume marked that up, is an urban engineer. There’s no way you should have known this stuff.
Besides, Jameson can’t draft to save his life.
He used to do everything by hand and then gave them to me to draw up digitally.
It’s a pain and costs the company double for any task. ”
“Seriously?”
“Uh-huh.” Lincoln shifted even closer, his thigh brushing against my forearm. “Fischer failed first year and third year.”
I craned my neck and took him in. His disheveled hair, his rolled- up shirtsleeves. He wasn’t wearing a belt today.
“Your boy Anders.” Lincoln coughed out a laugh and leaned closer.
“Anders failed engineering math.” He held up a hand.
“I know many engineers fail it, but he also came here and lost the company an incredible amount of money because he signed off on a road design when he didn’t know enough about it. ”
My mouth dropped open. “No way.”
I enjoyed how close he was. How relaxed he seemed to be.
“Name anyone in this firm,” he said.
All the tension in my stiff shoulders slipped away with every playful laugh I earned from Lincoln. Every shared joke. I loved this level of our relationship. Of whatever we were.
“Sarah Mbali?” I asked, thinking of the only senior female engineer in Traffic Analysis.
“Qualified as an engineer, didn’t want the stress, left the industry, and went back to South Africa, where she became a music teacher for, like, ten years, then returned to engineering later on.” He grinned now with both sides of his mouth.
A mouth I wanted to kiss.
“Why do you know this?” I managed.
“They didn’t give me any work on my first day, and that was a bad move on their behalf. I spent the entire day in a hyperfixation spiral researching all of their credentials and college results.”
There wasn’t anything more Lincoln than that.
“You?” I said softly, knowing he’d hear me because of how close he was now. “I’ll bet you don’t fail at anything.”
He pursed his lips. “Not any of my engineering courses, no. But I landed Simucon in some hot water after ignoring a client. I was working on their report, and I didn’t realize clients needed so much reassurance.
Why waste five minutes on an update email when those five minutes could be spent on the design report?
” He let loose a soft whistle. “Well, they were our biggest clients at the time and dropped us for our competitors.”
“No!”
“Simucon forced me into a communications course, which I nearly failed.”
I didn’t mean to giggle, but I couldn’t help it.
Lincoln pushed himself off my desk. “I think you get what I’m trying to say…
It’s not easy doing this work, but it isn’t meant to be.
Especially at first. We’re supposed to be problem solvers and all.
It’s tough.” His gaze was so soft. “You’ve got the knack, Elizabeth.
You’re incredible and far from useless. You need to cut yourself some slack…
” He pointed his finger at the drawing. “When’s this due? ”
“Before I leave. And…” I paused. “I can’t stay late tonight. I need to leave before seven p.m.”
Lincoln looked over at the clock. It was already 4:30 p.m.
At that exact moment, Mr. Anders zoomed inside. “Ah, you’re here. Cedric said he saw you come in. Thank goodness. We have a meeting tonight with Mitchell Herman at around six.”
“I can’t tonight.”
“Hot date, Carden?”
Lincoln delivered an unimpressed glare. “I have a really important event to attend.”
“I won’t keep you longer than seven. It’s Mitchell Herman.”
“Fine.”
“Great. I’m off to grab some dinner, but I’ll be back before then.” With a final thumbs-up, Mr. Anders disappeared.
“Who is Mitchell Herman? He sounds important,” I said.
Lincoln let his head fall to one side and rolled his eyes. “Mitchell Herman is one of the biggest developers on this end of the world. He always hires me to do traffic studies for developments in countries I’ve never been to. I keep telling him to hire someone locally.”
“It’s because you’re the best.”
Lincoln’s lolling head snapped straight, as did his entire body. “Stop it, you.”
I bit my tongue to resist saying something I might regret.
He peered at my drawing again. “I assume he wants you to do it by hand.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” I stood and looked at the drawing from the same angle he studied it at.
“Print a long drawing. We’re going to work over there.” He pointed at the bigger table in the corner.
I hit print, and while I walked over to the plotter, the dimmed office lights lit up. The office went into standby mode at 5:00 p.m., and tonight, the floor was emptier than usual. Granted, it was Friday night.
I stepped back into the office and laid the drawing down on the long table. Lincoln set his tools on the desk: his pencils, scale rule, and a variety of French curves.
“While you’ll never be expected to do this for anyone else, I do believe it really strengthens the foundation of the knowledge you’ll use to design things in the future.” Lincoln’s large hands pressed down on the drawing.
Was I jealous of a drawing?
Maybe.
He lowered himself closer to the drawing while fitting the curves.
This may be the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
“But how do you know what’s right?” I asked, my breath a shameless squeak.
“Fundamentals.” He leafed through his textbook to horizontal alignment. “Come here.”
Summoned, I went closer. As close as I could reasonably be. I inhaled his fresh scent and watched his deft fingers handle the rulers and pencils with a grace that had me thinking about other things he could handle.
“What’s on your mind? You look distracted.”
My heart jumped to my throat. “Nothing.”
His lopsided grin returned. “If you say so.” He gestured for me to come even closer. “Now, calculate the k-value manually.”
I took the pencil, my hands shaking.
“About yesterday, I hope I didn’t come across as angry or rude. I’m sorry. I was in a lot of… pain, and I was trying to get comfortable.” Struggle underlined his words.
I followed the curve he’d laid out and made notes on the drawing.
“Oh, um, a little, but it’s okay. I may have overstepped and shouldn’t have barged in.
” I looked up at him, and my breath escaped me.
He was closer than I’d anticipated. His deep gaze raked across my body underneath those long lashes.
“How’s your back?” I managed.
“Much better,” he replied, now focused on my mouth.
Shaking off my nerves, and maybe delusion, I turned my attention to the calculation and finished it before handing the pencil back to him. He drew the rest of the intersection, edging closer to me. I twirled in and out of his reach until I was sure he was playing along.
I hadn’t imagined all of this.
Lincoln walked me through his design, ensuring I understood every last bit of it.
We leaned over the drawing, his shoulders pressed against mine.
He reached for the pencil, trapping me between his hard body and the edge of the table.
My breath hitched, and I stayed there, unmoving for a few seconds while he crowded behind me.
He didn’t move either.
With my heart rate soaring, I arched my back ever so slightly, and my body pressed against his for a brief moment. The heat between us was enough to make me lightheaded.
A heavy breath escaped him, caressing my neck, leaving gooseflesh in its place.
His right hand dropped the pencil and landed on my waist at the same second I spun around. His fingers squeezed my side, and my desperate gaze met his. Equally desperate, if not more.
He wet his lips while he focused on mine. I tilted my chin toward him. Those soft, brown eyes filled with fire. He slid his hand around my neck, cupping the back of my head before pulling me toward him.
And then he finally kissed me.
His soft mouth pressed against mine, and my knees buckled.
I curled my arms around his neck for support and found the hair I’d been wanting to play with, tug, and rake my fingers through for weeks.
His hand slid from my side, around my waist, and I arched into his embrace without breaking the kiss. I never wanted to break this kiss.
I parted my lips, licking the edge of his bottom lip. He groaned, throwing his head back and sucking in a deep breath. “Elizabeth,” his voice deep and filled with desire.
I wrenched him back down and kissed him, parting his lips with my tongue.
Now his groan vibrated through to me. He gripped my waist and lifted me onto the table.
I opened my legs, and he pushed between them.
I threw my head back for air, finally. I could breathe.
I needed Lincoln Carden to be able to breathe. “Don’t stop,” I whispered.
His mouth left hot, wet kisses down my neck, where he lingered and licked, sending electricity sparking through me. My nails scraped across his scalp as his teeth nipped at my collarbone. I wanted him lower.
He came back up, leaving me twisting with tension. The speed of my beating heart rivaled the quick breaths I took before crashing our mouths together. His hot palms explored the dip of my hips with a fervent passion I could replicate.
A soft moan escaped me, and I bit down on his full bottom lip.
He groaned into my mouth. “I’ve been wanting to do this forever.”
“More,” I begged. “More kissing. Please.”
And he gave me more, because Lincoln Carden kissed with the same intent he did everything else. To be the best.
And he was.
Until we heard voices.