MY CAR SLIDES BENEATH A large oak tree with a placard about feeding the Freeman Park wildlife. From this angle, I can see most of the greenery tucked away behind a row of oversized evergreens. The park is almost nestled inside the trees, fields of green expanding for acres. There are little tables and sheds and play equipment sprinkled throughout.

I climb out of the car and look for him. After a few long minutes, my gaze falls on a picnic table near a little pond in the back corner. A man sits on the top, his back to me. It isn’t just a man though. With a grey sweatshirt stretched across a broad, thick back, a few strands of sandy brown hair peeking out from below a purple baseball cap, it’s Lincoln. It has to be. No one else can look that delectable, that unintentionally sexy.

Damn him.

I force my feet to keep going forward. This is dangerous. He is dangerous. My willpower is skirted, chipped away with every interaction, and I’m feeling very bare these days.

You must stay strong. Don’t give in to temptation. Don’t . . .

He reaches over his head, his shirt pulling up so I can see the skin on his side. The thick muscle that wraps from his front to back bulges, rolling as he moves.

I’m so screwed. No, I’m not. I’ll hand him his wallet and go home. No sex.

Well, maybe. No! No sex, Danielle.

I’m not screwed. I’m about to be fucked.

Like he has all the time in the world, he glances over his shoulder. Bit by bit his face is revealed to me. His sculpted cheekbones are followed by his sharp jawline peppered with a five o’clock shadow. His full lips are displayed, then his brooding eyes that light up as they meet mine somewhere over the gravel between us.

“Hey,” he says. His voice is balmy, welcoming, but he doesn’t move.

“Hey.” I try to suck in a breath to regain my composure but am hit with the essence of Landry and blow it out instead. It’s not helping. “I have your wallet.”

My words stumble out of my mouth. Something about seeing him in a place that I don’t hold the advantage has me flailing a bit, my typical confidence floating somewhere on the little ripples in Lake Freeman. I have to get it back. It’s the only weapon I have against this force sitting in front of me.

I glance around the park, only to find it deserted. Royal purples and lively pinks spatter the blue sky as the sun hovers over the top of the evergreens as it descends.

Turning to face him, I extend the leather in my hand. I wait for him to take it. He doesn’t. After a few moments, my hand falls back to my side, and he scoots across the table, making room for me.

“I love it here,” he says, taking in the ducks bobbing on the water. “It reminds me of a lake at home. My brothers and I all learned to swim there.”

“How many brothers do you have?”

“Three. Assholes, all of them,” he says before glancing down at the picnic table. “You going to sit or what?”

My brows tug together, and I want to say no, that he should take his wallet and I should go. Instead, I find myself climbing on the bench and resting beside him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a look of satisfaction splashed on his face.

“I was kidding about my brothers being assholes. They’re all good guys. My dad would still whip the shit out of us if we weren’t.”

“Yeah, well, my dad is an asshole,” I huff before I can think about it. I fidget with his wallet in my hands. “I think my father was so disappointed that I was a girl that he was afraid to try again. Try growing up knowing that.”

“Maybe he thought he hit the jackpot and was afraid of being disappointed the next go-round.”

Trying to return his smile, my attempt lacks any genuineness. There’s nothing to smile about when it comes to my parents. Lincoln picks up on it, watching me curiously.

“I’ll save you the trouble of trying to figure it out,” I offer. “My father wanted a boy more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. He named me Ryan Danielle. That’s how bad he wanted a son.”

“Ryan is kind of sexy,” Lincoln whispers.

My shoulders rise and fall as I try not to focus on the fact that it does sound sexy coming out of his lips. I also heave away the little fact that I’m sitting next to him, talking about our families. “It doesn’t matter. I hate it,” I spill. “I grew up knowing I would never be good enough for my parents, and my name is just another reminder of that.”

“Is that why you always correct me when I call you Dani? Because you think it’s a boy’s name?”

When I don’t respond with words, just the sobering of my features, the playfulness vanishes from his. “That’s bullshit,” he gruffs. “Your name is who you are. You shouldn’t get a bad vibe every time someone says it.”

“Well, I do. I can’t help it.”

His lips twist together, his foot tapping on the bench. We sit in silence for a while, the autumnal wind making me pull my knit jacket tighter. I do it out of knowledge that it’s probably cold and that’s what I should probably do. I don’t feel anything other than the warmth from sitting next to Lincoln though.

This is unexpected. The flirting, the joking—that I was prepared for. But this side of him? This serious part, this section of his personality that’s almost like I’ve known him forever rips the guard right down from around my heart. It’s as easy to talk to him about these painful things as it is to joke about his body. That’s both amazing and nerve-wracking.

“I’m going to keep calling you Dani. You need to embrace who you are. And,” he says, leaning so close to me that I can feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek, “you are seriously hot.”

The smile stretches across my cheeks before I can stop it. He delights in my reaction, his own cheeks splitting with a wide grin. I thrust his wallet in his hands and laugh, not able to look at him.

“Fuck your dad,” he says like he’s joking, although I’m not one hundred percent sure he is. He tucks his wallet in his pocket.

My spirits dip as Lincoln’s words land on my ears and heart. “You probably wouldn’t think that if you knew him.”

“Any man that makes his daughter feel that way, yeah, I don’t care if he’s the fuckin’ Pope, I’ll guarantee you I wouldn’t like him.”

“He’s not the Pope,” I laugh, “but he’s kind of a big deal. People love my parents.”

“I don’t. I love . . .” He leans forward, his eyes wide, watching for my reaction. As I pull slightly away, whispers, “I love ice cream. Wanna go get some?”

My laughter mixes with his, but when his shoulder bumps mine, I can barely breathe. Lincoln moves closer to me in one easy, graceful move.

“Is that a yes?” he asks.

“No. I should be heading home,” I say, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I hope you get done whatever you need to with the wallet you just had to have back tonight.”

His shrugs, pressing his lips together in a mischievous look. “I was hoping for dinner with a slightly irritating lady I met on the wrong floor.”

“Slightly irritating? That’s how you would describe her?” I ask, raising a brow.

“All right,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. “She was actually more of a moderate irritator.” He flashes me a soft smile, one that is without any of the teasing or jokes. “I’d really like to have dinner with you sometime.”

The water laps the shore in front of us. I close my eyes and breathe in the clean air mixed with Lincoln’s cologne and feel my shoulders give up some of the stress they’ve been holding.

“You were great with the kids today,” I tell him. When I look over my shoulder, he’s watching me closely. “Rocky loved hanging out with you today. You were so patient with him.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Yeah, well, it’s not the worst way to spend an afternoon.” It’s him now that’s looking across the water, his thoughts going somewhere else. “Kids are so genuine. He wanted some of my time and reminded me to get him a poster,” he laughs. “But that’s it. They don’t want the rest of the shit people usually do.”

“I can’t imagine.”

My heart hurts a little for him, but I don’t know why. The look on his face is somber, thoughtful, and I’m sure whatever he’s thinking isn’t the happiest of thoughts. It’s my first reaction to reach for him and hug him like I would one of the kids or Macie or Pepper, but I don’t.

“It’s a part of the life,” he sighs. “I’m lucky to play baseball. I know that. But there are parts of it that sometimes feel . . .”

“Insincere?” I offer.

He looks at me, his head bent to the side. “Yeah,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

Before he can start asking questions, I throw it back to him. “You were going to the therapy floor the other day. Are you okay?”

“Maybe. My shoulder is pretty fucked up. I’m doing everything I can to get it healed up so I can be back out there this spring.”

“I hope that works out for you.”

“Me too.” He laces his fingers together and rests them on his knees. “What about you, Dani? What are you working towards?”

“In what way?” I ask, gulping.

“In any way. What are your goals? What do you want to accomplish in your life?”

Leaning away from him, I try to wrap my head around that question. I want to accomplish so much. I want to do so many things, but I don’t know how to verbalize them.

When I’m sure he’s not going to talk until I answer, I take a deep breath. “Really, Lincoln? I just want to be happy.”

“You aren’t happy now?”

“Yes and no, I guess,” I say, laughing nervously. “I’m doing what I love. I love working with kids and making a difference somehow. But I want more, you know? I want a family someday. I want stability I’ve never really had. That’s important to me.”

His lips press together as he takes that in. His gaze pulls away from mine and lands over the water somewhere again.

We sit in silence for a long time, the birds calling to each other and an occasional fish jumping out of the water. I get so lost in the peacefulness of it that I don’t notice Lincoln nudge closer to me.

“You chilly?” he asks.

Looking at my arms across my chest, I realize I’m shivering. “I guess so,” I laugh.

With a cautious movement, he wraps an arm around my shoulders. At the contact, my breath catches in my throat. He’s so warm, so hard, that I’ve never felt so wrapped up and safe in my entire life.

“Have you always wanted those things?” he asks finally, the gravel in his tone singing through me. “Or did they change?”

“I think I’ve always wanted them. I’ve wanted to do different things with my life, not always the job I have, but I think that’s a normal part of life. Wanting new things, evolving.”

He nods. “Maybe so.”

The sun starts to drop behind the trees and a chilly blast of air drifts across the water. “I better get going,” I tell him. “I hate driving in the dark.”

“Do you have to go far?”

“Not really.”

His fingers press lightly into my arm before he unwinds his arm from around me. Taking my hand, he helps me off the picnic table. I expect him to let go as we walk to the car, but he doesn’t. My palm fits so snugly inside his, the coarseness of his skin rough against mine. We don’t speak until we get to the parking lot.

“Thank you for coming out here,” he says, opening the door for me.

“It’s really no big deal.”

“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow?”

I shouldn’t. I could get sucked into this vacuum faster than I ever imagined if I don’t watch it.

“I don’t know about dinner,” I tell him.

“Okay,” he gulps. “What about . . . let’s play catch.”

“What?” I laugh.

He grins. “Meet me back here tomorrow. We’ll play catch. You can’t even consider that a date,” he points out as I start to object. “I’ll bring two gloves and a ball and you just have to show up.”

I want to say no. Sort of. But there’s no saying no to the look on his face.

“What time?” I ask.

“Four-thirty?”

“See you then,” I say, sliding into the driver’s seat before I agree to anything else. As I drive off, I see him in the rearview mirror looking like the smug Lincoln Landry I know.