Chapter Four
Tornado of Chaos
Present Day
That was all it took. Just one look and my whole life changed. I brought home three business cards that night – one from Lincoln, one from his brother Jack, and one from some middle-aged pet toy salesman whose name I don’t recall. I had a 33.3 % chance of texting the right person and I screwed it all up because that’s what I do best. Unfortunately for me, Lincoln ended up working late that night and I ended up fucking Jack in his convertible Corvette under a blanket of stars out by the lake. The following Monday, he fucked me on his desk after class. A year later, we were engaged. Twelve months after that…just married. What can I say? I was young and dumb and the rest is cringeworthy history.
Shining a flashlight between Jack’s prized ’57 Corvette and the garage wall, Lincoln straightens up and switches off the light in his hand. Turning, he runs into me and startles. “You mind?”
“Sorry,” I whisper, giving him some breathing room. “See anything?”
His eyes gravitate to the workbench glowing beneath a recessed light, seeming to unearth some deeply buried memory. Good or bad, I do not know. He and Jack weren’t the closest brothers in the world but Lincoln helped him work on this damn car his fair share of times while I fetched them cold beers and chicken salad sandwiches cut diagonally. Always diagonally. “Nothing,” Lincoln breathes, setting the flashlight on the bench. “No sign of excrement or nesting either. It looks clean.”
My gaze is sucked back in through the open doorway leading into the kitchen, getting swept up in a whirlwind of explanations because I definitely heard something last night. “Then what…”
“Probably just a raccoon crawling around up on the roof, or maybe something fell over in here.” He gestures to a golf bag leaning awkwardly in one corner.
Nodding, I bite my tongue because he’s probably right. More than likely, I was hearing things. After all, my husband just died and my mind has been spinning out of control ever since. My senses are heightened. Everything is louder, closer, warmer. “Well, thank you for looking.”
Lincoln glances at the black show car with red leather seats gleaming beneath the garage lights, reliving some memory of he and Jack on a wild test ride to grab more transmission fluid or cold beer. This was the one place where they connected. Right here in this garage. Even then, I remember some heated words when parts didn’t quite fit right or something got lost, especially when Jack was tired and hungry. He could be a dick, no doubt about it.
“You want it?”
Lincoln’s eyes jerk to me and thin.
“Hang on,” I announce, passing Jack’s black BMW in the far stall and going back into the kitchen.
Lincoln follows, stopping abruptly when I snatch a set of keys from a hook next to the door.
“Take it,” I say, dropping them in his hand.
Looking up from the Corvette emblem, he hands them back. “No thanks.”
Forcing his fingers around them, his sweet-smelling cologne fills my lungs, making my heart beat faster in my chest. “Please, he would want you to have it.” Suddenly, I’m not sure if I’m talking about the car or me.
Lines forge through his forehead in the dim light spilling over the farm sink, a brooding look hardening his eyes. “I don’t want anything of his.”
My heart sinks with his words. Patting his hand, I speak in a soft whisper. “Then I want you to have it.” I smile and turn to the fridge. “I’ve got enough on my plate trying to get rid of this house and everything in it.”
Loosening the knot in a black necktie, he undoes the top button of his shirt. “So, you are moving then?”
I pull two water bottles from the fridge and pass him one. He declines me again, so I set it on the island between us. “Well, I can’t stay here.”
His eyes gravitate to the French doors overlooking the dark backyard. “Yeah, I guess not,” he says, tossing the keys on the island. “But I’m still not taking the car.”
“You could sell it and buy your food truck. After all of the times you came to my rescue, you deserve it more than anyone. Plus, you built half the thing.”
In a blur, he rushes across the room and steps into my face. Glaring down at me, his muscular chest heaves beneath his silky suit and when he speaks there’s no hiding the disdain in his voice. “I didn’t help you for money.”
Shrinking into my dress, I can only draw enough breath to mutter four short words. “Then, why did you?”
His chest swells, hands balling into fists, and for a moment I’m afraid of him. Even though he was adopted and doesn’t share Jack’s tainted DNA, I can’t help feeling it will happen again. No one ever hit me before and it changed me. Sensing the fear in my eyes, he backs off and lowers his voice. “Because you deserved better than my brother, that’s why.”
“It wasn’t your responsibility to clean up after Jack’s tornado of chaos swept through my life every time, Lincoln.”
“I know it wasn’t.”
“Then, why?”
His brow folds. “Where will you go?” he asks, unable to hold back another second.
I can tell he’s pissed and it makes me happy. I try not to smile because he does care, he just won’t admit it. And why would he? He’s my brother-in-law, for Christ’s sake. “I don’t know yet.”
“Will you stay here in town?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure.”
Faces just inches apart, I study him in the pale light, searching for more ways to avoid saying what I really feel. I want him to stay the night. I want to go back in time and do things differently, but I can’t. Lincoln steps closer, backing me up against the sink. “This family is here for you no matter where you go, and we will always be here for you.”
“I know.” My voice comes out as a pathetic whimper, body trembling as if I’m cold. But I’m not. His cologne mixes with my perfume and I hate myself for loving it. His lips are so close, it would be easy to lean up on my toes and kiss him. I want to. In my heart, it seems like the answer to all my problems but, in fact, I know it’s the exact opposite. I have a penchant for making bad decisions I get from my mom. When I was four, my father died in a street race, so maybe I get some of it from him as well. If I were a superhero, that would be my kryptonite. Or would it be my power? The bottom line is: Lincoln’s family has been through enough.
His breath washes over my face in warm waves and I can hear his throat click when he swallows. His heated gaze warms me all over and I know exactly what he’s thinking because I’m thinking it too. I lean against the sink, fighting the flush of heat between my legs. A knot of need tightens in my gut when he bends to press his lips to mine. My entire body shakes. I’ve fantasized about this for so long and now that it’s finally happening, I can barely move. Lincoln passes my lips and kisses me softly on the cheek before whispering in my ear. “You should get some sleep,” he says, pivoting on his heels and walking out of the kitchen.
Brain scrambling, the room spins around me in an unsteady blur. “Wait!” I yell without knowing why. No, that’s not true. I know why. I want more than a kiss on the cheek and hate myself for even thinking such a thing, but it’s too late, the seed already planted.
Turning, he stares me down from across the room.
It’s all I can do to keep from collapsing under the weight of those green fucking eyes. My breath is short and if it wasn’t for the sink, I’d already be melting into a pile of mush on the floor.
His eyebrows go up.
Swallowing thickly, I collect my wits. “Thanks again for the ride,” I pant, chest heaving beneath my black dress.
He studies me for a few perplexed seconds, before smiling and walking away. The front door shuts behind him and I put two fingers against my cheek, collecting what’s left of his lips. Without moving, I listen to his car start out in the driveway. The engine revs and my heart races. Pulling my hand from my face, I stare at my fingertips, searching for the mystical Pixi dust that just turned my stomach inside out. In all of my years, I’ve never felt anything like that before and I want more. Much more.