Chapter Two
Linc
Sunlight streams through a window, waking me.
With a groan, I roll over and nearly fall off what I quickly realize is a couch.
Opening my eyes slowly, I take in my surroundings.
Jordan’s living room, I think, and the events of last night come back to me in too vivid detail considering how shitty I feel after overindulging—talking to Xander about our newfound sister, drinking too much, and ending up here.
Not a surprise. Jordan would always take care of me, and she did, as helping me undress and covering me with a blanket so I could sleep proved.
I’m grateful to have her in my life.
Kiss me, Jordan. My words come back to me, floating through my brain. I close my eyes and recall gripping the back of her head, pulling her toward me, and kissing her.
I let out a groan. This is why I don’t like to drink.
Any loss of control unnerves me, and last night it led me to break my most meaningful vow.
But the taste of her was sheer heaven. And despite my drunken state, I remember how right she felt on top of me, her feminine curves pressing into my harder body, and her sensual scent surrounding me.
I lower my hand and push my palm against my aching cock. No way will I embarrass her this morning. Not when I have to apologize for my behavior last night. The last thing I want is to lose the woman I lean on in so many ways.
I push myself to my feet and look around for my shirt. Not finding it, I fold the blanket and set it on the couch before hitting the bathroom. I take care of business, wash up, rummage through her cabinets, and even find a new toothbrush to use.
From there, I head to the kitchen and make myself a cup of coffee in her Keurig, and when I hear the sound of her walking to the bathroom, I prepare a mug for her, too. I add some almond milk and sugar the way she likes it and wait.
After a few minutes, she joins me in the kitchen.
My gaze falls to her soft cotton sweats and a tank top in a buttery yellow.
The material clings to her curves, the outline of her breasts and her perky nipples a sight I force myself to look away from.
For safety’s sake, I turn toward the counter to hide the evidence of my thickening arousal.
“How are you feeling this morning?” she asks over a yawn.
“Not too bad. I borrowed a toothbrush.” I pick up the coffee I made and turn to hand it to her.
“You mean you took a toothbrush. No such thing as borrowing one,” she says, her gaze not meeting mine.
Shit.
She accepts the mug and breathes in the smell. “Mmm. Thank you.”
“It was the least I could do. Want to sit?” I tip my head toward the small kitchen table nearby.
She nods and walks ahead of me, giving me a different view, this one of her ass jiggling in the sweats. I tip my head and pray for strength, then join her at the table, pulling out a chair and straddling it so I can face her. Even makeup free, she’s beautiful.
“Last night you wanted to discuss what to do with the news about your sister,” she says, both hands wrapped around the mug as she takes a sip. “I suggested we wait until this morning when you were more coherent. Do you want to talk it through now?”
I know she’s directing the conversation so we don’t have to discuss us. I place my cup on the table and force myself to look at her. “About last night. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
The more I replay the moment, the more I feel like the man I despise and promised myself I’d never be like. How many women did my father push himself on? Women who worked for him and deserved respect?
She hesitates before answering. “You were drunk and I wasn’t. I shouldn’t have let things happen between us.”
I shake my head, refusing to allow her to shoulder the blame. “I started it and I’m sorry.” Sorry I put her in an uncomfortable position. But I can’t regret the kiss, because now I have the memory of it to hold on to.
“Don’t give it another thought,” she says tightly.
I can’t read her expression, wonder if I’ve somehow hurt her feelings, and search for something to say to ease things between us.
“Are you hungry?” she asks. “I can make an omelet?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.” My stomach isn’t ready for food. “But thanks.”
“So … about your sister,” she begins.
As subject changes go, it’s the right one, and I draw a deep breath. “I want to meet her.” I make the sudden decision. “In fact, I want to talk to Xander, Dash, and Chloe, and then I want to give her the inheritance she deserves. And if she agrees, I want to bring her home with me.”
She blinks, obviously surprised. “I thought you were worried that, by meeting you and seeing everything you have, Aurora would discover and resent everything she missed out on growing up.”
“I was. I am. But I have the power to change the rest of her life for the better, and I intend to.”
A slow smile lifts Jordan’s lips. “That’s the Linc I know. Okay, so what’s the plan?” she asks.
“We’re going to Florida to meet my sister.”
“We?” she asks, her voice rising.
I nod. “You always have my back and I have yours. And this isn’t something I want to face alone.”
She cups her hands around the coffee mug again, lifts it, and takes a sip, obviously stalling while she thinks about my request. “What about taking Chloe? You know she’s upset and would want to come with you.”
Considering I have no idea how Aurora would treat us, I don’t want to put my sister in an awkward position until I’m sure of our welcome. “I want to protect Chloe. Once we know how Aurora feels about us, I’ll let them meet.”
Jordan’s expression softens but she doesn’t reply immediately.
“Are you really going to make me beg?” I ask in a teasing voice I know will get to her. “Because I will. I want you by my side when I meet my new sister.”
She rises from her seat. “Are you finished with the coffee?”
I nod and she scoops up the mug.
“How long are we going for?” she asks, and I release the breath I’ve been holding. At least she isn’t going to let my actions last night get between us going forward.
“For as long as it takes to convince Aurora she has family who want her.” I pause. “Jordan?”
“Yes?”
“You’re really coming?”
Her gaze locks with mine. “Have I ever not been there when you need me?”
“No. You’re my rock.” Though I’ve been given a taste of her, I’m still not about to lose her or screw up our relationship by mixing sex into the equation. No matter how much I wish I could.
* * *
Linc
After leaving Jordan’s, I head home to shower and clean up before going to see my mother.
Since there’s no way to adequately prepare her for the news about my father’s bastard daughter, I just call and tell her I want to come for a visit.
My mom lives an hour from the city on what my father liked to call the Kingston Estate, a pompous way of describing the family home in Brookeville, set on four acres of land.
Of course, my dad kept an apartment in the city he used as a place to sleep when he worked late or, as I presume, a way to sleep with his mistresses without his wife finding out.
Wanting nothing to do with my father’s illicit love nest, I put the apartment on the market within a week of the man’s death.
As I near the exit on the highway, my phone rings, and I take the call on speakerphone. “Hello?”
“Hi,” my sister Chloe says.
“Hey. How are you?” Although she works with me, doing the decorating and staging of the model apartments in the buildings we buy and rent out, I don’t think she’s calling to talk about business.
A heavy sigh echoes across the line. “I’m okay, I guess. Still processing,” she says.
“Aren’t we all?” Memories of how I showed up at Jordan’s drunk last night come back to me, not that they’re ever far from my mind this morning.
The exit comes into view and I flip on the signal.
“Where are you?” Chloe asks.
“Going to break the news to Mom,” I say, turning off the exit.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have gone with you.” Chloe sounds put out.
I grip the leather steering wheel of my Range Rover. “Because it’s going to be upsetting and I thought I’d spare you.”
A frustrated sound comes through the speaker. “Linc! You don’t need to protect me! I’m a grown woman. I’m getting married soon, remember?”
I wince. I don’t need the reminder of her engagement to the asshole she’s been dating. There’s something I dislike about the man. Everything, really. Not to mention, a guy who can’t give another male a strong handshake is weak, and my sister deserves better.
At thirty-two, I’m the oldest of the siblings.
Then comes Xander at twenty-nine, Dash at twenty-seven, and Chloe, the youngest, is twenty-five.
Despite my parents’ fractured marriage and my father’s behavior, clearly they had no problem in one area of their lives. Something I do not want to think about.
But because of Kenneth’s disinterest in the children he sired, I’ve always felt like it’s my job to look after my siblings.
I shift my attention back to my sister. “You were upset about the news, and I didn’t think you needed to see Mom’s reaction. Are we still on for tonight?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Yes. I’ll see you at eight,” she says.
I’ve asked Chloe, Dash, and Xander to meet me at my apartment to discuss Aurora and her place in the family.
Dash will go along with whatever we want.
Our rock star brother is always chill, and I don’t sense I’ll get an argument from Xander.
Chloe definitely won’t mind making sure our new sister is provided for.
My phone beeps, indicating another call is on the line. “Gotta take this, Chloe. See you later.” I disconnect and switch over, talking to a business associate for the rest of the ride to my mother’s.
I have a huge deal pending to buy property on Central Park South and develop an exclusive collection of tower condominium residences I hope will be one of the most exclusive in the city. The project is my pride and joy, and nothing will stand in the way.