“Kind of.”
“It can be, even for me.” He walks across the porch and leans against the railing. He’s not quite as tall as Lincoln and not as muscular, but I’m sure he’s his own brand of spectacular without a shirt on. He gazes across the yard like Lincoln does when he’s thinking.
“Maybe I should be the one to ask if you’re all right,” I note.
He glances at me over his shoulder and smirks. “I’m fine. Unless you need a job. Then I’ll be great.”
“This sounds like a touchy subject.”
He blows out a hard breath. “I need to hire someone right away. My secretary just walked out.” He sighs again.
“That was nice of her,” I wince. “Did she retire? Get sick?”
“Worse,” he says, spinning to face me. “She fell in love.”
“Ah,” I laugh. “Good for her!”
“Maybe, but it’s terrible for me,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I don’t see the need to traverse the country because you’re finally getting laid. People fall in love and do the stupidest shit.”
My breath hitches in my throat as I try to figure out if he means any of that towards me in any way.
“I don’t mean you,” he snorts, a grin still on his face.
“How did you know I was wondering that?”
“You mean besides the way you just looked like you saw a ghost?” he laughs.
“Was it that obvious?”
“More or less.” He turns around and faces me, leaning against the railing. His eyes burn into mine and I squirm on the wooden swing. The toes of my boots scoot against the ground, halting the leisure back-and-forth. He doesn’t make me uncomfortable, just on the spot. Graham Landry can switch from casual conversation to interrogation faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” I say, not at all feeling that way.
“Why do you like my brother?”
His question renders me speechless. My lips part, then close, as I try to figure out what he’s getting at. “I’m sorry, Graham. I don’t understand.”
He almost smiles. Almost. “You know what? Never mind.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You asked. Now clarify.”
“Look, I’m going to say this and it might come out wrong. But hear me out.”
“Careful,” I warn, a touch of a grin on my lips.
He looks away as he tries to stop his laugh. “Fair enough.” He clears his throat and looks at me again. “I’m a critical guy. I’ll also go out on a limb and say I’m the most serious of the bunch. So when one of the rest of them bring home a new girl or guy, it’s usually a face I don’t get to know too well because they won’t be back.”
“So your siblings are flakes?”
“Yes,” he admits good-naturedly. “But you, Danielle, are different. I can see you sticking around a while.”
My heart leaps in my chest, but I stay composed. You have to with this guy. “Why do you say that?”
“You fit in here,” he shrugs. “You make Lincoln laugh. Relax. Hell, you make him think about things other than pitch counts and that’s no easy task,” he kids. “You bring out something different in Linc that I haven’t seen in years. I have a feeling you’re pretty special to him.”
“I hope so. He’s pretty special to me.”
“Lincoln has a meeting coming up about his contract,” Graham says.
And then it hits me. I stand because sitting makes me feel at some sort of a disadvantage to him. I’m not angry at the insinuation—I get it. I was raised with some of the same issues. But I am going to make myself clear. Crystal clear.
“I get what you’re saying,” I say, making direct eye contact. “And, for the record, if he gets dropped and never plays baseball again, I would probably be happier.”
Graham’s eyes widen just a bit, his mouth dropping ever-so-slightly.
“I take that back,” I backtrack, pulling in a breath. “I think Lincoln would be beside himself and I don’t want that for him. He loves the game.”
The words come out and I ignore how hard they smash against my chest, remind me of reality. Of the pecking order. Of the insecurity I have as to how I compare to a game with a wooden stick and a piece of leather.
“I think he loves you too,” Graham says.
I shrug because now I’m thrown off my game. I fight my brain for control over my emotions, to stay focused and enjoy the weekend. I don’t know what the future holds, but I want us both to be happy.
“What about you?” I say, attempting to pivot this conversation back around to him. “Will you have a girlfriend or wife here today?”
He laughs full-out now, sending a flock of birds finding refuge in the trees. “I don’t date.”
“You aren’t one of those that don’t believe in love, right?” I tease.
“I absolutely believe in love,” he says. “I’ve seen it. Hell, I’m looking at someone in love right now.” We exchange a smile before he continues. “But loving someone means giving them some control of your day, your life. That’s not something I’m good at.”
“But doesn’t it make things seem so much better to share your day, your life, with another person?”
“Certain times of the day, yes,” he winks. “I don’t have extra hours free to dote on someone. That’s the reality of it. I’ve spent so many years getting to where I want to be career-wise, getting plans in place to take our company to the next level. I love it. It’s my passion. And it works because I have a system.”
“You’re a control freak.”
“I’m okay with that.”
His mouth opens to say something else when the door creaks and Lincoln steps outside. His hair is styled, kind of swept up and to the side. The wine colored shirt stretches across his lean body and his legs are showcased in dark denim. I almost whimper.
“Hey, now,” Lincoln teases, coming to my side. “Don’t get any ideas, G.”
“Welcome to how Barrett must feel,” Graham laughs. “I’m heading inside for a drink.”
He disappears and Lincoln pulls me into a hug. I breathe him in, letting his scent settle over me and calm my frazzled nerves.
“Want a glass of tea?” he asks against my hair.
“Yes, please.”
Instead of heading into the house, he just pulls me closer. “I want you to know,” he gulps, “that I really like having you here. I was in the shower and thinking about you here with my family today, and well, I haven’t felt like this ever.”
I lift my chin and look at his face in the early morning sun. There is no joke teasing his lips, no distraction in his eyes. It’s just a simple emotion that I’ve never seen before. A pure sentiment that I think I can read and I definitely feel.
I shouldn’t. Things like this need to be thought out. Yet he strips me of all logical thinking and my mouth opens before I can sort through all the chatter in my head. “Lincoln, I—”
He kisses me before I get the rest out. I gasp, taken aback by the gesture I didn’t see coming. It’s a bit of a letdown that I didn’t get it out. But when he pulls back, his eyes shine.
“Dani,” he roughs, his tone gravelly. “I know what you were going to say.”