Chapter 22

Sophie

I exhale a heavy breath when I sink into the leather of Lincoln's front seat. It's been an emotionally exhausting sixteen hours, and I'd prefer to curl up in a ball on my bed and hide beneath the covers. Alas, grown-ups can't do stuff like that.

I'm too scared to look at Lincoln. I can't believe he stood up to Dad and told him I'm his future. That James and I are his future like his words were of no consequence. Surely he didn't mean it. They were just words said in the heat of the moment. Right?

He starts the engine and I'm waiting for him to break the silence, but he doesn't. I steal a glance his way, tracing my eyes from his hand casually draped over the steering wheel, along his arm with that amazing geometric tattoo, to his bicep which tenses. I continue my path upwards, tracing my eyes over the chain he has around his neck and further up his throat. I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows, and graze my teeth on my bottom lip as I remember how his scruff-covered cheeks felt against the inside of my thighs.

He's so freaking hot. But he's also strong and loyal. Supportive and wonderfully kind.

He turns his gaze toward me and gives me a panty-melting smile—causing crinkles at the corners of his eyes to show—which quickly falls along with his eyebrows. "Are you okay?"

"Did you mean what you said?"

Creases form between his brows, and he glances back at the road. "Which part?"

I swallow and dig deep for my bravery. He said it, so I'm not sure why I'm nervous about bringing it up. "About me and James … and … and your future?"

He switches his hands on the steering wheel and reaches across to grip one of mine, dragging it across to rest on his firm thigh. "Well, yeah. I didn't mean to blurt it out in front of your dad. I was hoping we could talk about things this morning before work." He pulls into a parking lot that isn't the one behind the studio. I narrow my eyes when I realize he's pulled into a café next to the river. Without another word, he climbs out and opens my door, holding his hand out for me to take. "Let's eat and we can talk."

With our fingers entwined, he walks inside like he owns the place and heads straight toward the doors that sound like they lead to the kitchen. As soon as they open, the noise level doubles as pans clatter and people call out instructions. I tug on Linc's hand. "I don't think we're supposed to be in here."

He glances at me. "Nah, we're good." He looks around the busy kitchen and tugs me forward. "Aaron! Make us some breakfast, will ya?" he calls.

I immediately recognize his friend when he turns around. His eyes drop to where our hands are linked, and he raises a single eyebrow as he makes his way back up to Lincoln's face.

He walks toward us, wiping his hands on a towel as he chuckles. "Sophie! Great to see you again." He leans in to hug me, but Lincoln tugs me back, causing his friend to laugh louder. "I see how it is. Go sit out front; I'll make you a couple of breakfast wraps." He turns to me. "Anything you don't eat?"

Shaking my head, I answer. "I'm not fussy and don't have any allergies. Thank you." My stomach chooses that moment to gurgle. I was still so upset about everything that happened yesterday that I hadn't been able to stomach the thought of breakfast and I barely touched my dinner last night. None of us did, and I wondered why I'd even bothered to cook.

The guys chuckle and Lincoln tugs me out of the kitchen, between the patrons, toward an empty table by the window. The view is stunning and I take a moment to appreciate the glassiness of the water beneath the clear, blue sky. A few people are rowing, leaving ripples in the water, while water birds fly overhead. I blow out a long breath, uncoiling my muscles as the tension releases. "It's gorgeous here." I lower myself into the chair Lincoln pulls out for me and look up at him. "Thank you."

We're both silent, our eyes trained out of the window until our wraps arrive, and we dig into the tasty breakfast. I wait patiently for Lincoln to start the conversation we need to have, unease dripping down my spine. He finally finishes eating and then locks his arresting blue eyes on me. The same blue eyes that stare at me from the tattoo on his arm. "Is there a reason you never mentioned you had a kid?"

My eyebrows shoot up. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I didn't expect that to be his first question and I also didn't expect to hear the hurt in his voice. Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I sip my coffee and then wipe my mouth. "I never mentioned James because I could just be me. It's been a long time since I've done something just for me,"—I swallow nervously. Is he going to think I'm selfish?—"and it's made me feel more like myself than I have in years. At work, I wasn't someone's mom or daughter. I was just me … and I liked it. I didn't want to lose that feeling." I shift in my seat. "I didn't think my parental status had any bearing on my work."

He nods slowly, his eyes softening. "I get that, and you being a mom doesn't impact your job." He looks away for a moment, then locks his eyes onto mine. "But it affects our relationship." My heart skips to a stop. Relationship? I … my mind races and it shouldn't because he just told my father that James and I are his future. He leans forward, resting his arms on the table, and sighs loudly. "I've avoided single moms, Sophie," he breathes. "There's no other way to say it. I didn't want kids. I never wanted the responsib?—"

I stiffen in my seat. "I never asked you to take responsibility for James. I expect nothing from you." I lean forward and lower my voice. "Just because we slept together, I don't expect you to ride in on your white horse and rescue us. We've been doing fine on our own. We don?—"

He holds up his hand. "Woah! Stop for a second." My chest heaves with angry breaths. "Let me finish, please." He raises his dark brows, waiting for me to agree. I nod slightly, and he jams his fingers through his messy waves. "As I was saying. I never wanted the responsibility of keeping them safe. It's too fucking hard … and I'm shit at it." Pain laces every word, causing fissures to split across my heart, making it ache for the boy who still thinks he failed his sister. When he first told me about her, I could taste his despair in the air. I imagine he had to grow up fast because of what happened. My heart breaks for the boy and aches for the man who's lost so much. I slide my hand over his, lacing our fingers together. "I never wanted to have my heart broken like that. I never wanted to fall for a woman and her kid only to have something happen. I wouldn't survive the devastation."

"Oh, Linc." I'll never know why I ever thought this man was an angry storm—he just feels so deeply. But now I'm worried the relationship I didn't realize we had might be over before it's begun because of this deep-seated belief that he's responsible for his sister's disappearance.

"But I couldn't help it. I fell for you … so fucking hard, and while I should run in the opposite direction, I find I can't. My feet are rooted here … next to you. Next to you and your son." His eyes bore into mine and a dark chuckle huffs past his lips. "I don't even know him, but I know I'm gonna fall for him as hard as I've fallen for you. I didn't stand a chance. As soon as our hands made contact at the interview, I was gone."

My heart tries to leap from behind my ribs to beat with his and I would give anything to be in private right now so I can climb into his lap and wrap myself around him. Soothe him and his fears. Tell him I've fallen for him too and if he's prepared to risk his heart, I'll care for it and keep it safe.

"Lincoln," I murmur. "The one thing I've learned so far in my life is that there are no guarantees … for anyone. As much as I wish I could lay your fears to rest, I don't know what's in the future." I lean closer. "But here's the tea … living in fear of what if is a lonely place to be. It means you don't take risks. You don't grow to your full potential. You miss out. And worst of all, you don't love with your whole heart." I reach out to lay my hand over his pounding heart. "And you have such a big heart, Linc. It would be a shame to waste it."

He shakes his head and one side of his mouth tips up as his eyes crawl over my face. "How did you get so wise?"

I raise and drop one shoulder. "I wouldn't say I'm wise." I grin. "I remember a time when you thought I'd turn out to be flaky." I raise a single brow.

He chuckles. "How wrong I was …"—he covers my hand resting on the pec over his heart—"about so many things. I don't want to miss out, Shortcake. Not anymore."

Leaning forward, I lightly press my lips to his. "You don't have to. I promise to help you through your fears and worries."