He slides open the deck door, wearing a tight burgundy button-down shirt, unclasped at the top with his throat exposed. The man doesn抰 even need to call 揅ome in, it抯 almost supper!?to get my attention.
揓ust give me a sec. I抦 wrapping up...?
揟hat means another hour in Nevermore time. Get your sweet ass in here before you freeze,?he growls.
I look up, gazing into his honey-brown eyes and smile.
Will the effect he has on me ever fade?
揑抦 blaming you. When you said I抎 get a lot of writing done here, I didn抰 know I抎 be glued to my pen and paper,?I tell him.
揑 was right. What else is new??He huffs out a rough breath. 揧ou came here to spend time with me, remember??
I wince. Even after all these months and so many changes, he抯 still got an elephant-sized ego.
揑 came to spend time with Fortunato.?
He rolls his eyes.
揚oe, you抮e a freak for naming that journal,?he says.
揂nd you burn for me, Burns. Even when I can抰 fathom why.?
揙h, no, sweetheart. You burn. If you抳e got another poem or two about falling into bed, I抣l remind you how easily I can turn you into ash.?
My face throbs with heat.
Big words from a really big lunk梐nd yet, they抮e horribly true.
揥ell, I do like being in bed with you,?I blurt out, quickly adding, 搕hat is, when you抮e not snoring like a hibernating bear.?
揟here抯 a cost to pleasure.?He grins, his eyes bursting with sweetness. 揊or the record, you抮e my favorite way to warm my bed, too. Now if you get inside sometime this century, we could enjoy it rather than talking.?
I hold up a hand. I need to finish these lines before I lose my mojo.
The bond.
The tether
Always together.
揊air warning,?he rumbles impatiently. 揑f you抮e cheating on me with Mr. Fortunato, I will push him through a shredder.?
I glare at him. 揇on抰 you dare, Lincoln Burns.?
揥oman, don抰 try me.?He steps off the deck, plodding down the short staircase and comes barreling at me.
I grab the journal, hop on top of the table I抦 sitting at, and plod down the bench on the other side, running as fast as I can.
Lincoln chases me.
I sprint away, surprised I can still run when I抦 doubled over laughing.
He抯 gaining on me fast.
Crap. Here comes the hill, covered in freshly fallen leaves and emerald greenery still peeking through. Only one escape梐nd it抯 also the best way to piss my man off.
I tuck Fortunato in my sweater, drop to the ground, and roll like I抦 all of twelve years old again.
揇akota!?he screams.
Before I can tumble three solid times, strong hands grab my sweater, tearing me back and blunting my momentum.
He scoops me up with ease, holding me like a naughty puppy.
揂re you crazy? Do you see how steep that drop is? You could抳e gotten hurt.?He jabs a finger down and梠ops, yeah. He抯 right.
It抯 steeper than it looked in the heat of the moment, especially with the leaves carpeting everything.
揃ut I wasn抰.?I smile at him slowly.
揙nly because I caught you in time,?he grumbles. 揇on抰 tell me I have to pull double duty as your boyfriend and your bodyguard? This is getting weird considering I抳e been your boss.?
揂s long as you抮e nice to Fortunato...we抣l see.?
He daggers me with a look so dirty it抯 hysterical.
I slide my hand under my sweater, expecting to pull out my journal, but?揙h, crap. It抯 gone! I must have dropped Fortunato when I rolled.?My heart climbs into my throat.
揋uess you deserve it then.?
揕incoln, this isn抰 funny. Put me down! I have to find my journal. I can抰 lose my work.?My throat goes tight, and a hundred ways the little booklet could wind up waterlogged or carried off by a mischievous fox spin through my mind.
揥ho抯 the workaholic now??He wraps his arms around me, holding me to his chest.
I lean up and kiss him before my panic resumes.
揇ude. As cute as that is, if I don抰 find my journal, I抣l never forgive you.?
He sets me down with a slight exasperated sound.
揌old on. I抣l go rescue him,?he promises.
揧ou will??
揕ike I抎 risk your wrath, Nevermore. There抯 a hell of a lot of places out here to hide my carcass, and I抦 sure you抎 find the worst,?he jokes.
揧ou抮e so dramatic.?I laugh at him anyway, marveling at how his dumb jokes can brighten up even scary times like this.
揂nd you抮e the one who named your damn journal.?
We walk together, staring at the ground, searching. Lincoln starts down the steeper incline, pulling his former Marine card and demanding I stay put.
Insanely annoying, but also sweet.
揑 think I see it!?he calls up from the bottom of the hill, kicking leaves aside. He bends down, grabs it, and starts back up.
Delicious relief floods my system, cool and peaceful. I almost don抰 notice the tiny flakes prickling my skin.
Just a handful at first, and then a proper dusting that swirls through the trees.
Weather gets intense at these elevations, and in late October, it isn抰 unheard of for the rains to turn to snow.
I pull the tops down over my fingerless gloves and stick my tongue out as Lincoln approaches. 揝ee what you did? I抦 blaming this weather on you, Captain.?
Beside me, he chuckles. The last couple months, I抳e taken to calling him that. But he抯 anything but a dipshit now.
Lincoln Burns is the light of my life, the first and last man I抎 follow into hell.
揅areful or you抣l ruin the magic,?he warns, eclipsing me in those massive arms that always feel like they hold up the sky.
揘ot possible. You saved Fortunato,?I whisper, taking the journal and giving it a good hand wipe.
揟here抯 enough magic inside, where it抯 warm. I made a fire,?he whispers in my ear.
I look up with a grin. 揧ou knew it was snowing??
揃een in the forecast all week with more than a ninety percent chance,?he says.
揥ow. I抦 surprised you went through with the trip.?
揂 little winter never hurt anybody. Also, I plan on keeping you plenty occupied in the cabin for heat. Tomorrow, if you抮e lucky, you抣l wake up sore as hell with a cup of coffee in hand and a nice view of the mountain in glittering white.?
I lace my fingers through his. This man is the best thing that ever happened to me, even if I have a hard time putting it into words.
As soon as we step inside, I抦 engulfed with cozy warmth, the orange flames twinkling in the fireplace.
揑 love how you抮e so thoughtful梬hen you want to be,?I tease.
My heart skips as he smiles back.
He pulls the door shut behind us, kisses my lips languidly, and moves past with a playful butt swat.
揋o put your journal somewhere safe and I抣l make you coffee,?he orders.
揌mm, okay. But I can think of better ways to warm up than getting wired...?
He chuckles and kisses me again.
揝oon,?he whispers, low and firm.
He抯 so perfect. I can抰 help but stare, wondering how I ever got swept up in this whirlwind.
I haven抰 even given up the lease on my apartment, despite all but living with Lincoln since the day he won me back by raven messenger.
If I were still a starry-eyed college girl who believed in weddings, he抎 be the man I抎 want to swap vows with, hands down. But something tells me we抮e better off this way, easy and slow, committed with no formal, hard commitment yet.
I head into the bedroom and lay my journal on the desk. When I return to the living room, Linc has two cups of steaming coffee and a huge Regis roll on the coffee table, apparently warmed up like it was just made.
He lounges on the couch as I sit beside him, my curiosity rising.
揥hoa. You really thought of everything. When did you stop for this??I ask, staring at the roll with my stomach growling.
揟he morning we left. They sold it raw and I just had to pop it in the oven. I wanted this weekend to be perfect, and I know my girl loves pastries more than money.?
I laugh at him, suddenly suspicious.
揕incoln, what are you doing??
He holds his hands up like he抯 innocent. 揘othing. Why??
揧ou抮e up to something.?
He shakes his head fiercely.
揧ou抮e wrong. Scout抯 honor.?
揕incoln Burns, you抮e no Boy Scout. How many times do I have to remind you??
揇akota Poe, eat your cinnamon roll and shut it,?he says playfully.
揥hat if I抦 allergic to cinnamon now??