Chapter Seventeen #4
“I’m gonna go check out the other houses.
Stay here. Or don’t. I don’t care at the moment.
I’ll be back—it’s not as if there’s anywhere else to go.
I’ll bring back anything useful I might find for us to share .
. . because as annoyed as I am with you right now, there’s no way I’d leave you to fend for yourself. ”
He didn’t add that she might actually starve to death if he did that, but he so wanted to.
Instead, he stomped back toward the door and wrenched it open.
Ginger didn’t say a word behind him, and Kash wasn’t sure if he was happy or sad about that. All he knew was that, right now, outside was much preferable to being inside with someone who judged him for things that weren’t his fault. For surviving.
He’d like to see her live in a car in New York City. She wouldn’t last a day. She thought peeing in the woods was bad? Try peeing in a bottle because it was too dangerous to leave the safety of the car at night because of the people wandering around outside.
He shut the door behind him and headed in the direction of the closest cabin he hadn’t already checked out. Maybe he’d get lucky and find a fully stocked pantry and a generator with gas. He wasn’t holding out much hope for that, but never say never.
Linc hummed while he puttered around the kitchen on Sunday morning. Last night had been . . . he had no words. He and Harper had connected on a level they hadn’t before now. And it wasn’t just about sex, although that was amazing.
In between bouts of making love—on the couch, the kitchen table, the counter, in his bedroom, hers, the shower, and even on top of the washing machine while it was on the spin cycle, because she said she’d always wanted to try it—they’d talked.
He’d told her more stories about growing up on Lobster Cove, and she’d opened up about losing her mom and how it seemed to change her dad.
They’d even talked about high school and the bullying.
It had been more painful for Linc to see how remorseful Harper was for the way she’d treated him than it had been remembering how he’d felt back then.
He’d told her funny stories about being in the military, as well as some somber ones about losing a couple of friends. About how scared he’d been on certain missions, and how exhilarating it was to fly at the speed of sound high above the earth.
She shared more about her time in New York.
Not all of it was bad. She’d met some amazing women, and had done things she’d never thought she would, like posing for Wilhelmina Models.
But there were also the hard times she’d endured that made his heart hurt.
Giving birth to Kash alone, scared to death about what was to come.
Being so hungry, she’d stolen food out of a dumpster behind a restaurant at three in the morning when no one was around.
How hard living in her minivan had been, and how she’d felt as if she’d failed as a mother.
He felt closer to her as a result and cherished every minute they spent together.
He’d left Harper sleeping in his bed—he’d kept her up extremely late, because he hadn’t been able to get enough of her.
He’d lost count of how many times she’d orgasmed.
Linc couldn’t wait to get his vasectomy, because then he wouldn’t have to worry about condoms and they could relax and not have to stress about an unwanted pregnancy.
As much as he loved spending one-on-one time with Harper, Linc was also very much looking forward to Kash getting home.
He missed the little bugger. Missed his babbling about the solar system and black holes and nebulas.
Missed teaching him things, the stuff his own father had taught him, like how to paint walls without leaving streaks, how to fix the vacuum cleaner’s motor.
Missed the time he spent with him in this very kitchen.
Kash was a sponge, and it felt awesome to see him soaking in the positive reinforcement Linc tried so hard to give him. The kid was going to be a force when he grew up. It was going to take a very patient partner to keep up with him. To stimulate his mind and to nurture him.
But on the flip side, Kash would make an amazing partner in return.
He was very in tune to the feelings of others and had a protective streak that rivaled that of Linc and his brothers.
He’d seen it in the way he spoke to and about Harper, and even when he interacted with Britt, Marit, Evelyn, and, to some extent, his grandfather.
Since he was thinking about Kash, he picked up his phone from where he’d left it on the counter when he’d started breakfast, shooting off a quick text.
It was early, he didn’t know the exact schedule of the competition, but he took a chance that Kash would already be awake.
Excited about the day and the awards ceremony.
Linc: Hey, Bud, just checking in. How’s everything going? You good?
It took ten minutes, but when Linc heard his phone vibrate, he smiled.
He rinsed his hands after cutting veggies for the tater-tot-and-egg casserole he was making, along with a huge pan of cinnamon rolls, since they were Kash’s favorite and he wanted them waiting for him when he got home later that afternoon. He reached for his phone.
Kash: I’m good.
Linc: Any idea what time you might be home today? I’m making your favorite . . . cinnamon rolls.
Kash: Yum. Not sure about the time though. I’ll see if I can find out.
Linc: How’s the competition going?
Kash: Fine.
Linc waited for Kash to say more, but when there were no dots on the screen indicating that he was still typing, he frowned.
Linc: Everything okay?
Kash: Yes.
Linc: Okay, Bud. Your mom and I miss you. We can’t wait to have you home. The house has been too empty without you.
Kash: Yeah. I miss you guys too. Gotta go.
Linc: Okay. Good luck today. Can’t wait to hear all about it.
Kash: Bye.
Linc stared down at his phone. Something niggled at the back of his brain. He remembered reassuring Harper when she’d had the same feeling, and now he felt bad for not asking more questions.
Because she was right. Something seemed off. He’d have thought Kash would be full of things to say about the competition. About spending a couple of nights in a fancy hotel. About Portland. About the robots.
He was still frowning at his phone, racking his brain about what could be going on with Kash, when Harper walked into the kitchen.
“Morning,” she said in a husky voice.
Looking up, Linc’s heart melted. She looked amazing.
Her hair was mussed, she had small abrasions on her neck from his beard, where he’d nuzzled her all night, and under the big fluffy robe she had on, he could picture the hickeys he’d loved putting all over her body.
She looked like a woman who’d been thoroughly ravished, and he’d been the man to do the ravishing. Just seeing her made his cock twitch.
“Morning,” he returned, holding out an arm in invitation.
She didn’t hesitate, just walked into his space and leaned into him. “Is that Kash?” she asked, nodding at the phone still in his hand. “Did he tell you what time he was getting back today? How much time we have to ourselves before we have to leave to go get him?”
The last part was said suggestively, but Linc couldn’t tease back. Not when he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
“He’s not sure about the time . . . but you know how yesterday, you said you thought something was off about him?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I agree. Here, look at our conversation, see what you think.” Linc handed his phone to Harper, and she read the short texts they’d exchanged.
When she was done, she looked up at him. “I can’t put my finger on what’s different, but something is. Do you think maybe it’s that they aren’t doing as well as he’d hoped?”
“No. Kash would see that as a challenge. He’d be disappointed, but I don’t think we’d be getting these weird vibes from him. It’s something else.”
“He’s usually much more verbose,” Harper suggested with a small frown, still looking down at Linc’s phone.
He was staring at the screen as well when it hit him. He reached for his cell without a word and scrolled up. He read a few texts they’d shared from earlier in the week, and then last week.
“Holy fuck. Harper . . . I don’t think this is Kash texting.”
“What? But it’s his number,” she argued, straightening from where she’d been leaning against him.
“I know, but look—every other time he texts, he doesn’t bother with punctuation, or uppercase letters, or anything.
He abbreviates words where he can. Uses that text language kids like to use so they can type faster.
But in this conversation, he’s using apostrophes, periods, capitalizing each word at the beginning of a sentence. ”
Harper took the phone and scrolled back and forth between old texts and the conversation from minutes earlier.
When she lifted her head, Linc could see the panic dawning. “So who’s got his phone? Who’s pretending to be him, and why?”
“Take a deep breath, Harp. We don’t know that anything’s wrong yet.”
“Yes, we do! You feel it just as much as I do. Don’t minimize this.”
She was right. Linc felt as if his skin was too tight, and all he wanted to do was jump in his SUV and go find Kash. Something was wrong. Really wrong. If someone had his phone, and was pretending to be him, this wasn’t good.
Hadn’t his family been through enough?
Was this Lucas Pearson, hiring someone from prison, retaliation for not succeeding in his plans for Marit? Or hell, had the Calverts paid off someone from prison, to continue harassing the Young family? They’d somehow made their share of enemies in the last year.