Chapter 21

Lincoln

I slept like shit last night—worry for Sophie and James had me tossing and turning, reinforcing exactly why I've avoided single moms all these years. I gave up on trying to sleep around five and climbed out of bed, made a coffee, and have been sitting on my back porch watching the world wake up. With rose and golden hues painted across the sky, I contemplate what to do about Sophie. I listen to Aaron move about and leave for work while I ruminate over everything I learned yesterday.

She's everything I've tried to avoid and yet she's perfect—even if she comes with my worst nightmare … a kid.

I have nothing against kids, it's just that I never wanted the responsibility. I'm shit at keeping them safe, and I don't think my heart's strong enough when something inevitably happens.

And something will always happen. It's unavoidable.

I was crawling out of my skin as we searched for James—a kid I'd never met. How will I cope if something happens to him once I've gotten to know him and wrapped him in my love?

Watching Sophie fall apart and drag her pieces back together so she could find her son was one of the most inspiring and terrifying moments I've witnessed. She was so fucking strong in a situation that would have had most people—me in particular—crumbling to dust.

I go for my morning run, shower, make a protein smoothie, and head over to Sophie's, since her car is still at work. When I pull up in front of her house, knowing she lives here with her dad and son, I see it through different eyes.

Shaking my head, I still can't believe she has a kid, and I think it'll take a while for me to wrap my head around it.

I'm guessing that's why she's had such a long dry spell.

I know I'm early, but I'm hoping we can talk before work, so I climb the steps and knock on the front door. After a moment, movement catches my eye through the glass side panel. The door opens, and Sophie's dad rolls forward.

On top of his worry for James, he seemed pissed yesterday. "Sophie won't be working for you anymore. Have a good day." He wheels back and grips the door, pushing it closed, but I step inside; preventing it and his eyes widen at my brazenness.

I hold up my hands. "I'm going to need Sophie to tell me she no longer works for me."

"I'm her father and I'm telling you," he splutters as his eyes drag down my tattoos and I get the impression he isn't a fan.

"And I said, I need to hear it from her. Last I checked, she's an adult who can make her own decisions." I lift my eyes from her dad and scan what I can see of their home—photos line the wall of a young family and I recognize Sophie as a toddler and young girl—but I can't hear any other sounds in the house. "Please tell her I'm here to take her to work."

His eyes narrow, and his spine straightens. "She's not here. She had to take James to the bus for school since she left her car at work."

"No problem. I'll wait for her." I close the door behind me and stroll into the living room, taking a seat. Where there would normally be a recliner, the space is void of any furniture, I assume to allow space for the wheelchair.

"I didn't invite you into my home," he sputters, rolling into the room behind me. "You're not our kind of people. I'm not sure what my daughter was thinking when she applied for a job at a tattoo studio." He scoffs. "I'd already forbidden her from working at artWORX." He waves his arm in the air dismissively and my eyebrows rise halfway up my forehead.

Forbid?

Does he realize she's an adult, and he has no control over what she does?

"Why would you forbid her? She's an incredibly talented artist and an adult who is more than capable of making her own decisions."

He huffs. "I can't trust her to make sensible decisions. Look what happened when she was left to her own devices. She got pregnant at seventeen by that boy at her prom." He rolls closer with narrowed eyes. "Then she worked at that tattoo shop and the boss tried to molest her." Anger boils in my veins when I think about Barry. "And here we go again. Another poor decision that she knew I wouldn't like, so she snuck around behind my back!" he sputters, his face red with anger.

"Dad!" Sophie's voice snaps out like a whip and she looks from him to me and back again with wide eyes. "Stop already!" When she looks back at me, her eyes are shiny. I know her well enough to see she's holding back tears. "Linc, what are you doing here?"

I stand, jamming my hands into my pockets, and rock back on my heels. I almost don't recognize her. Her face is makeup-free, and she's wearing a yellow sundress that brings out the cinnamon highlights in her long hair. She looks beautiful. "I came to drive you to work, since your car is still there. I figured you'd need a ride."

She smiles shakily, her eyes flicking from me to her father. "Thank you. I'll grab my stuff."

Her dad rolls forward, all bluster. "You will not. I forbid you, Sophie." There's that fucking word again. I step forward and he glances at me with angry eyes. "If you leave this house with him, don't come back!"

Sophie freezes, and the tears she was holding at bay fall over her thick, dark lashes. "You don't mean that," she whispers shakily.

He nods sharply, his face red. "I do."

I step between father and daughter. "Sir, I don't think you want to do that. I can see you love Sophie and James and you only want what's best for them, but I don't think giving her an ultimatum is the answer."

"Mind your own business. This doesn't concern you."

I advance, then feel Sophie's small hand grip my T-shirt. "With all due respect, Sir. If it involves Sophie, it does concern me. She's not only my employee, she's my future." Until that moment, my mind was jumbled about what to do with my feelings for Sophie. As her father speaks to her like a child, my decision is made. And it feels … right. Her gasp rings loudly behind me, and her fingers tighten in the cotton she's gripping. "She and James are my priority, and I won't allow anyone to disrespect either of them—even if that person is you. They can live with me if you're intent on kicking them out. It's up to you, Mr. Chalmers." I hold out my hands, non-threateningly.

Damn, I'm making shit up as I go now.

My mind races through potential solutions. Aaron and I have a room we can turn into a bedroom for James, but I probably should check if it's okay with him first.

I wanted to take her to breakfast to talk about her being a single mom and what that would mean for our relationship moving forward. Instead, I've invited her and her son to move into my home without consulting my best friend.

Everything's moving faster than I had planned, but I'm gonna roll with it.

Sophie releases her grip on my T-shirt and steps out from behind me. "That won't be necessary,"—she drops her gaze to the floor—"I'll find somewhere for me and James to live."

"Soph—" her dad whispers.

Sadness washes through the room with the shake of her head. "It's time we moved out, anyway. You can't respect my need for me to be me. I wish it hadn't come to this, but I'm twenty-six, and I need to live my life without being held back." She sucks in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry I couldn't live up to your expectations, but I think it's time."

She turns on her ballet flats and leaves us in the living room. I chance a look at her dad to find him wiping beneath his eyes with trembling fingers. "She's so much like her mother," he murmurs. "Such a damn spitfire." He slumps in his chair. "I can't lose her and James. They're all I have left," he murmurs. Silence falls heavy between us, but I don't feel the need to fill it.

With an air of pride, Sophie returns several minutes later wearing the Dr. Martens I made her keep on the other night, denim shorts that expose her thigh tattoo, a burgundy crop top, messy hair, red-painted lips, and thick black eyeliner around her stunning eyes.

Thisis the Sophie I recognize.

I'm not sure which version of her is her truth, but I'm equally attracted to both versions. Her father gasps but stays rooted to the spot—his eyes stuck on her thigh tattoo—as she grabs her purse, then turns toward him.

"Can you please collect James from the bus this afternoon? He's starting summer vacation next week. I'll work something out so we aren't reliant on you, but I'd appreciate your help today." Her shoulders drop a little. "I'm sorry I've disappointed you, Dad. I want you to know that I tried to squash the real me so I could make you proud, but I was slowly dying inside. It has never been my intention to deceive or hurt you; I was just doing my best to keep you happy." I watch her throat bob as she twists her fingers together. "I love you, Dad."

She turns, hiding her face, but not before I notice her tears. I step forward to join her when her dad holds up his hand to stop me.

"Sophie," he says, his voice softer than I've heard. He wheels closer to her and takes her hand in his, stroking his thumb across her knuckles. "I'm sorry. I responded poorly a-a-and I sometimes forget that you're not my little girl anymore. That you're a grown woman,"—he gives her a watery smile and I watch her soften—"and you can make your own choices. I sometimes forget that I need to let you go … to find your own sense of self. To find your own path. I-I know I can occasionally be controlling and stifling,"—Sophie blinks quickly and raises her eyebrows at her dad—"okay, maybe more than occasionally." He chuckles. "But it comes from a place of love. You and James are all I have and I want to keep you safe." I hear ya, man! "Please don't move out. This is your home and you'll always have a place here. I-I-I'll work on tempering my ways. I love you, Sophie. Please don't leave."

She bends down to him, and they wrap each other in a tight embrace which they hold for long moments, her body shuddering. She pulls away with a sniffle. "Thank you, Dad. We'll stay if you think you can accept me for who I am. I promise this doesn't make me a bad person. I'm still your Sophie." He's nodding before she finishes her sentence. "I'm not giving up my job. I love it too much." He nods again. "If I'm going to be a good role model for James, he needs to see me following my passion. He needs to see me being authentic to myself. I don't want him to fit into a box. I want him to know it's okay to be himself."

"I know," he says, his voice dripping with regret. "I'm sorry." He turns to me. "I still want to have a chat with you, young man." His voice is full of sharp edges when he addresses me.

I hold out my hands. "Any time. And if you'd like to come down and check out the studio to ease your worry, you're welcome to do that too."

"Thank you. I'll take you up on that. Now you two had better get moving, or you'll be late and I need to get this next chapter written."

Sophie leans back down to hug her dad goodbye and we head out to my car.