揕ook, what you抮e overlooking is the fact that these cutesy books and movies about fake relationships blossoming into something real are just stories. This is real life. We抮e both professionals and while I can抰 speak for Dakota, dating isn抰 on the agenda. She抯 been burned before and I... You already know.?
Mom stops midstep with a sad look. 揥ho hurt that poor girl, Lincoln? And yes, we know who hurt you.?
揅an we not go there again? We抳e only been through it a thousand times.?I shake my head bitterly. 揗y point is, don抰 get too attached and overprotective with Nevermore桪akota, I mean. It抯 all a farce.?
揑抦 not. I抦 just curious.?She picks up her pace, scuttling around the kitchen while I linger at the breakfast bar.
揑t抯 not my story to tell, Ma. You know I won抰 violate an employee抯 privacy like that and I抦 damned sure not dating her.?I ball my fists on the counter and stretch my arms. 揧ou should be happy your rules are still ironclad.?
揙h, rules, fools.?Again, she hits me with those puppy dog eyes. 揧ou抮e a good man, Lincoln. Sometimes too good for your own well-being and mine.?
A few minutes later, we gather at the table. I help carry a snack tray into the dining room while Mom pours piping hot tea.
We抮e dancing around the greatest betrayal of my life梞y clusterfuck of an engagement梐nd I hate that even years after the carnage, it still has the power to suffocate this room like a goddamned mammoth.
For years, the same song and dance.
Mom pleading for me to let it go while I insist I already have. Then I go right back to my safe life with zero room for love, for sex, for anything.
That begs the question. If we抮e both damaged goods afraid of anything serious and I抳e admitted this isn抰 a romance story, what am I doing with Dakota Poe?
I just know I抦 craving more of last night.
With her, I need it a million times over.
揧ou抮e doing a fine job with the company. I抦 proud of you,?Ma says, setting down half a sandwich. 揃ut I don抰 know where you got the idea that work is everything. We raised you to know better棓
揂nd I抦 here right now with you, in the middle of the workday.?
My eyes fall on the picture hanging behind her. It was their fortieth wedding anniversary. Ma wears a blue sequin dress dancing with a light in her eyes as she stares at my father adoringly. Dad wears a perfectly fitted tux and a smile too big for life on his weathered face.
His arm is snug around her waist. Her head is pressed against his chest.
A dagger goes through my chest.
Growing up, people always talked about how vibrant Mother抯 smile was even as she aged. A few weeks after that picture was taken, I lost my father to a brutal heart attack.
It took about a month to realize Mother抯 gorgeous smile died with him. Her old pure love cast in bright-white teeth was eventually replaced with a new smile, a quieter one where her mouth always stays closed.
It抯 never been the same since.
My mother has a lot of smiles: the kind ones, the wicked kind, the frustrated kind, and the slow, nostalgic kind she wears when she thinks nobody抯 looking.
She just doesn抰 have that smile anymore.
Watching Dad抯 unexpected departure take a piece of her soul was almost as bad as losing him.
She still refers to their fortieth anniversary as her farewell party. Dad died on a charter flight coming back from a business conference. He was gone before the plane even landed for help.
To her, their last anniversary was the closest thing to goodbye.
Even now, I peer at the tired eyes and subtle smile across the table from me.
One more good fucking reason why I抣l never get married.
I don抰 care what they say; it抯 not 'better to have loved and lost.'
Better to be safe from that pain, that agony, that destruction.
Better to spend your life making money and bringing order for thousands of people, with a dab of debauchery thrown in when it all gets dull.
Mom is living proof.
Ditto for Wyatt.
I抦 damn sure not making the same mistakes.
Mom sips loudly from her teacup and sets it down with a heavy look. 揕incoln, dear, I don抰 mean to be morbid, but what happens when I抦 gone someday? Who抯 your family then? You have cousins out east, of course, but they have their own lives.?
揟here抯 Wyatt棓 I stop myself, hating that I have to wonder if he抣l even be around.
揂h, yes. That heartbroken, troubled man who棓
揝aved my life,?I cut her off before she reminds me what a lost cause he is. 揑 owe him my all, Ma. You know that.?
?..son, you know how much I love that you care but...just how long will he be around? If he chooses not to help himself, I mean. He lives rough and doesn抰 take care of himself. Who will you have left if I抦 gone and you just can抰 turn Mr. Emory around??
揗y company. My team,?I grind out, hating that her question darkens my whole head.
揌aughty But Nice??
Christ, isn抰 that enough?
I nod and slurp my tea.
揥ell, as your mother, I抦 holding out hope that she-who-won抰-be-named didn抰 ruin you forever. And I choose to believe this little game with you and Dakota might just be the fire under the butt you need.?
揧ou watch too many movies. There抯 no such thing as true love棓
揧es, there is,?she says fiercely, drawing up in her chair. 揑 know. I had it once.?
揧ou did.?My voice softens with this gentle grief I haven抰 acknowledged in ages pushing up. 揂nd you haven抰 been the same since棓
She sets her cup down with a loud clink!
揝o? Lincoln, that doesn抰 make our love any less real. It was so real and beautiful that I still have a punk in a fancy suit across from me talking like a smartass.?She sniffs loudly.
揝orry.?I hold my hand up defensively.
Her face falls before she looks at me again.
揑t抯 okay,?she whispers.
揗a, look, I抦 trying to let you down easy before you get any ideas. If you keep believing this is going to magically morph into a real relationship...you抣l wind up pretty disappointed.?
揑抳e been around the block, Lincoln Burns. I抣l manage.?She pauses, staring into her cup before she says, 揗y only question is, can you handle a teensy bit of surprise in your life??
Can I?
Her question haunts me as I finish my tea, wondering why I feel so goddamned annoyed that I can抰 answer it.
Saturday morning, I find Dakota perched at her desk, diligently working.
There抯 something wrong with my brain.
Even the way her little fingers move nimbly over the keyboard does terrible things to my cock.
I know how those hands feel. This woman could be gargling mouthwash with two-day-old bedhead and I抎 still want her under me.
揑 hope you抮e not planning on giving me more work,?she says as soon as she looks up.
揥hat the hell? I don抰 even get a hello??
揙nly if you promise you aren抰 task dumping. It抯 the weekend.?Her little pout makes my teeth ache, stricken with the urge to bite her.
揝cout抯 honor,?I say.
揝omehow, you don抰 strike me as a Boy Scout.?
揑 was a Marine,?I mutter. 揇oes that count for anything??
She hesitates.
揌mm, well, I suppose.?
揕isten, I got an email from Anna. The photographer wants to do our first shoot next week. I know you hate weddings, so I thought we could take my boat out today and try out the setting alone as a trial run. The clothes are already aboard. You can choose a dress you like before the shoot and you抣l have a chance to get used to everything without the pressure.?
She casts a longing look and sighs.
揕inc, I know what you抮e trying to do and I appreciate it, but it抯 not necessary. I know what I agreed to. I won抰 mess up the shoot.?
She smiles up so bravely, my bright girl with the sun in her hair and determination set in her face.
揥hat if I just want to see you again on my boat??My body tenses.
揂t least you抮e honest. Usually when a man 慾ust?wants to see you again, there抯 some flimsy excuse.?
I narrow my eyes.
揧ou criticizing my game, Nevermore??
揗ore like calling it out.?
Brat. I see the smile she抯 trying to hold back.
揥ell, fuck, I want to see you again regardless. It抯 a nice day on the water, but I do think it抯 a good idea to prep for the photo shoot. I抣l pick you up in a few??