“Sweetheart, could you take these sandwiches out to your dad and the guys for me?”

I finish drying the dishes and stack them in the cabinet above the sink. Flinging the dishrag over my shoulder, I lean a hip against the counter and look at Mom.

“They’re not coming in to eat?”

She shakes her head. “They’ve been working on a new project, and you know your father… Once he gets going on something, he doesn’t let up.”

“What kind of new project?” I ask, helping her wrap the sandwiches in wax paper.

Shrugging her shoulders, Mom grabs a bag of chips from the cupboard and puts it in a bag, along with the sandwiches.

“I don’t keep up with all of your dad’s ventures. He’s always doing something different. You’ll have to ask him.”

She hands me the bag and follows me out the back door, and that’s when I see him.

My heart stutters at the sight of Lincoln. His jeans hang low on his narrow hips, and his snug-fitting black T-shirt stretches tight across his chest as he walks across the field toward the barn.

God, I miss him.

It’s been two long weeks since I walked out of his house and challenged him to prove himself to me. I’ve spent much of that time here or at Abby’s because when I’m at home alone, I second guess what I did. But I haven’t backed down…although I wonder if I should.

Lincoln texts me at least once a day to see how I’m feeling. I know he’s checking on our baby, but I like to think he’s keeping an eye on me as well. Since telling him he has to prove it, the texts telling me something he loves about me have stopped, and not once has he mentioned the incident in his dad’s hospital room, or tried to convince me to change my mind. I hope he’s just giving me what I asked for: time and space. But I also worry maybe he’s thinking about things differently.

Not hearing his voice has killed me. I’ve been tempted to pick up the phone and call him, but I put the ball in his court, and now I have to wait for him to decide what he wants and make his move.

“You okay?” Mom asks.

“What’s Lincoln doing here?”

“He works here,” she says, slipping on her gardening gloves. I watch her squat down and start pulling weeds from the landscaping. “Your dad hired him.”

“When?”

Lifting a hand, she shields the sun from her eyes and looks at me. “Last week sometime. Why?”

I shake my head. “No reason. Just curious, that’s all.”

She gives me a knowing look and smile before turning back to the landscaping. “Better get those sandwiches to the guys. They’re probably starving. Especially Lincoln. That boy has been coming in at the break of dawn and working until well after dark. I don’t think he sleeps.”

Sounds like Lincoln, I think to myself.

Instead of going right and following the path Lincoln took, I turn left and follow the sound of Dad’s and Rhett’s voices. They’re out in the pasture. Dad is mending a fence, and Rhett is sitting on the tailgate of the farm truck, chugging a bottle of water.

“Just in time,” Rhett hollers when I catch his eye. “I’m starving.”

I pull four sandwiches out of the bag, as well as the chips, and set them on the tailgate. “What’s this new project I’ve been hearing about?”

“I bought old man Miller’s property,” Rhett says, nodding toward the south side of the ranch.

Thomas Miller has been a longtime friend of the family, and his ranch butts up to the back of ours. A year ago, Thomas had a stroke and ended up in a nursing home. I knew his wife had talked about selling the land; I just had no idea my family was interested.

My eyebrows shoot up. “That’s like what? Three hundred acres?”

“Four hundred. We’re going to take out the back fence separating the two properties, rework the waterway, and combine the land.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Rhett counters. “Dad’s looking to retire, and I’ve always wanted to expand. This is the perfect opportunity.”

“How are you going to expand? You and Dad can barely handle what you’ve got now. What are you going to do when he retires? You can’t run this place by yourself.”

“Not plannin’ on it.” Rhett unwraps his sandwich and takes a bite. “That’s why Lincoln is here.”

I nod, trying to keep my face blank, though I have a million questions. “Mom told me Dad hired him. What is he, a ranch hand?”

“For now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if things go well, Dad and I are going to make him an offer.”

“What kind of offer?”

Rhett lifts a brow. “What’s it matter? I thought you were mad at him.”

My mouth drops open. I glance at Dad to make sure he’s not paying attention.

“He told you?” I whisper, wondering how much Lincoln revealed.

But I know Lincoln, and while he may have told Rhett we were together, I honestly don’t believe he’d tell him about the pregnancy without talking to me first.

Rhett nods and takes another bite.

“And you didn’t kill him?”

Swallowing, Rhett frowns. “Why would I kill him? He’s a great guy, and you’re a big girl.”

Now it’s my turn to frown. “Are you feeling okay?” I put the back of my hand to his forehead.

He must be running a fever. There’s no other explanation for him not going apeshit over finding out I’ve been sleeping with his best friend.

Rhett slaps my hand away. “You’re a big girl, Adley. Lincoln is loyal, stable, and an all-around good guy. He’s not a player. He won’t cheat on you. You chose well.”

I blink and then blink again.

“I’m proud of you for making him work for your forgiveness, though,” he says, nudging my arm. “He fucked up. But we’re guys; we do that shit. Just don’t stay angry at him for too long. I’d hate to see you miss out on the kind of love I’ve found with Mo.”

“I’m not angry,” I say, trying to figure out what it is I’m feeling.

Uncertainty, yes. Fear, absolutely. But not anger.

Snagging another sandwich, Rhett hops off the bed of the truck. “Maybe you should tell him that. He’s in the barn.”

* * *

“Hey.”

Lincoln whips around at the sound of my voice. The black shirt he had on moments ago is nowhere to be found. Sweat drips down his chest and disappears in the rivulets of his abdomen. It’s only been a little over two weeks since I’ve seen him naked, but somehow, he looks more ripped and lean than I remember.

And happy. He looks happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.

That can’t be a good sign, since I feel miserable right now. Maybe he just really enjoys working on the ranch?

“Adley?”

I blink and look up into his smiling eyes. “H-hey.” I clear my throat and try again. “Hey. I brought food,” I say, holding up the bag.

Using his forearm, Lincoln wipes the sweat from his face and walks toward me. “Thanks.”

He takes the bag, walks back to where he was working, and sits down on a straw bale. Without saying another word, he unwraps his first sandwich and takes a hearty bite.

There’s a jug of water that Mom keeps full, so I know he has plenty to drink.

I watch Lincoln chew his food, and when he goes to take another bite, he pauses and lifts a brow. “Did you eat lunch?”

I shake my head. “Not yet.”

He grabs the second sandwich from the bag and offers it to me. “Here, have this one.”

“You’d give me your sandwich?”

“I’d give you anything.”

The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, and I want so badly to tell him I believe him, that I’ve always believed in his love for me, that I was just scared, and I overreacted. But I want to make sure nothing’s changed with him since he’s had this time to think. I have to think of the baby as well.

So there are a few things we need to talk about first.

“You eat it. I can grab a sandwich when I go back inside.”

“You sure?”

I nod, and he sets the sandwich in his lap and takes another bite.

“How’s your dad doing?” I ask.

“Doing great. Ornery as ever. Chloe stayed with him for the first week, and she checks in on him when I can’t.”

“They’re getting along okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he says, laughing. “Don’t get me wrong, they butt heads a lot, and Dad drives her crazy, but their relationship is improving.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear that.”

“They don’t have much choice but to get along now that she’s the one primarily taking care of him.”

I wonder how Chloe is dealing with everything. Even if she wasn’t handling it well, I’m not sure she would tell Lincoln. I know from our brief encounters that she feels like she owes him.

“Rhett told me you’re workin’ here now.”

He nods.

“What about The Barn?” I ask.

After he swallows, Lincoln grabs his bottle of water and chugs it. “I quit.”

My eyes widen. “Why? You love The Barn, and you love Roy.”

Lincoln looks at me as if I should already know the answer. “Because you’re here in Heaven, and I want to be close to you and the baby, not in Houston. I know you don’t believe me, but I don’t want to miss a thing.”

“Lincoln—”

He holds a hand up, and I close my mouth.

“Please don’t,” he says. “I’m not trying to rush this, or rush you. You were right. We both needed some time to think things through. Everything that happened between us was a whirlwind, and the time apart has allowed me to put things in perspective. It’s given me some much-needed clarity. I’ve realized a lot of things over the last two weeks.”

Well, I’m glad he found clarity.

It’s comforting to know he wants to be close by, and that he’s taken steps to make that possible. But I’m not sure if he’s here because of the baby—and because it’s the responsible thing to do—or because he really does love me and wants a shot at forever.

What I do know is that I miss him.

I miss everything about him.

“What have you realized?” I ask. Might as well find out.

Lincoln polishes off his sandwich and water. Crumpling the paper, he tosses it into the bag. “I’d much rather talk about you. How’s the studying?”

Blowing out a breath, I tilt my head at him. I want to argue, force him to talk, but the hard look in his eye tells me there’s no use.

“Good,” I say, taking a step closer. “My test is in two weeks.”

He smiles. “You’re going to do great.”

“I hope so. Even if I pass, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

“What do you mean?”

I shrug. “Who’s going to hire a pregnant woman?”

His face sobers, and he looks down at the sandwich in his lap. “I’m sorry, Adley. I know a baby is the last thing you want right now, but I’ll take care of you. Whatever you need,” he says, looking up. “I’m here to help.”

Tears spring to my eyes as the words I threw at him the last time we talked come tumbling back to me.

“No, I’m not happy…”

“I had dreams…”

“Instead, I’m going to be a single mother because I got knocked up…”

I hate to think I said those things, and I part my lips to tell him just that—that I’m happy about the baby, and I’m glad he’s the father—but he finds his words before I do.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Good.” I nod, fighting back the tears. “I have an appointment later this week, if you’d like to come.”

His eyes light up. “I’d love to.”

“It’s Friday at three o’clock. Will you be able to make it at that time? If not, I can try to reschedule.”

“Adley, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And my boss is pretty lenient,” he says, grinning. “I don’t think he’ll have a problem letting me off. Especially if it involves you.”

That reminds me... “Lincoln, did you tell my family about the pregnancy?”

He shakes his head. “No. I told Rhett and Coop about us because I hated lying to my best friend. I’m sorry if I should’ve talked to you about that first.”

“It’s okay. I understand. I told the girls, so I can’t really be mad at you. And my brothers didn’t kill you, so that’s a plus.”

Lincoln laughs, and my heart aches. I’ve missed that sound so much.

“Adley, you have to know I would never tell them about the baby without talking to you. I figured that’s something we would tell them together.”

“When the time is right. I’ve read some books, and the risk of a miscarriage is highest in the first three months. I figure we’ll see what the doctor says; maybe she’ll be able to give us a better estimate of how far along I am, and then we can start telling people when we hit the three-month mark.”

“That’s a good idea.” Lincoln’s eyes dip to my stomach. “The baby’s good? Everything feels…normal?”

“So far so good. I’ve had a little morning sickness, but nothing too bad.”

Lincoln nods toward my stomach. “Can I touch you?”

Can he touch me? I want to strip naked and throw myself at him, beg him to touch me because I crave his skin against mine. But that’s probably a little excessive.

He looks up, waiting for my answer, and I manage to nod.

He seems nervous and uncertain as I take a step forward. When I’m within reach, Lincoln takes my hips and gently pulls me close. Slowly I lift my shirt, revealing my stomach. It’s still flat. Sometimes I swear I can see a bump, but then I tell myself it’s just my imagination. I’m not far enough along to show yet.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” he asks, studying my stomach.

“I don’t care. As long as the baby is healthy.”

A small smile touches his lips. “That’s how I feel too. Although I’d really love a little girl with your dark brown eyes,” he says.

His fingers graze my belly button, and then he flattens his palm. His hand is so big, it nearly stretches all the way across my stomach. I can’t help the shiver that runs through me. The warmth of his hand seeps through my skin and wraps itself around my soul like a blanket on a cold winter night.

The need to touch him is too strong, and I’m tired of resisting. I thread my fingers through his hair. Lincoln leans in to my touch, but he doesn’t move his eyes from my stomach. His thumb rubs gently against my skin.

“I’m going to make this right,” he whispers.

I bite my bottom lip and close my eyes. A tear drips down my cheek. I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or the baby, but his words rip at my heart.

“Lincoln, I’m so sor—”

“Yo, Linc, time to get your ass back to work,” Rhett yells, interrupting me.

Lincoln has my shirt pulled down and is gathering his trash before I even catch my breath.

A second later Rhett strides into the barn, and I’ve never wanted to kill him more than I do right at this moment.

“Sorry, sis, duty calls.” Rhett kisses my cheek, claps Lincoln on the back, and grabs an ax. “Ready?”

“I’ll be right there.”

Rhett nods and heads out the same way he came in. Lincoln slips on his gloves and reaches for a shovel.

“Friday at three,” he says. “Want me to pick you up around two thirty?”

Tell him, I yell at myself. Tell him you love him and you want him back.

Instead, I smile tightly and nod. “I’d like that.”