Chapter 7

Lincoln

I use my forearm to wipe the sweat from my forehead, pushing my damn hair out of my eyes. I need to book a damn haircut. I move side to side and watch the ball intently, ensuring I'm ready if it comes anywhere near the goal I'm defending. It heads my way, so I move off the goal line, but Aaron intercepts it and kicks it back the other way. These Monday night soccer games are meant to be a fun way to get some exercise, but I'll be damned if I let a ball get past me. I'd never hear the end of it.

The final whistle blows, and the game is a draw at zero all. There's plenty of back-slapping to go around as we make our way off the field. I'm not too proud to say I was relieved to be in goals tonight because I didn't feel up to running around. Sleep's been almost impossible to come by the last two weeks, thanks to the woman who magically slips into my mind at the most inconvenient times.

I chuckle as a pregnant Molly wraps her arms around Max and he hoists her up by her ass so she can wrap her legs around him. Finn also has Harry in his arms before he clears the field. It used to be just the boys, but that all changed when Max hired Molly and subsequently fell in love with her. Who could blame him, she's a knockout and the sweetest woman I've ever met … until Sophie—now she's a sweetheart hiding beneath all that black eyeliner, painted lips, and messy hair—then Finn went and fell in love with the literal girl next door. I huff out a chuckle under my breath and collect my stuff from the sidelines.

"Beer and pizza?" Finn calls to everyone.

I raise my arm to respond. "Sure. See you in a few."

Aaron catches up to me beside my car. "Thanks for the ride tonight."

"Makes sense to share a ride," I tell him as I toss my bag onto the back seat.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't always work out between our schedules." True. Considering we live together, you would think we see each other all the time, but our schedules rarely align.

We climb in and make our way to Brady's Pub. Finn always supplies pizza after our Monday night games; we just need to buy our drinks. "You seemed to move okay tonight. How's the knee?"

He squeezes it. "Pretty good. I was careful, though. No point in making it worse. I need to run the café."

I tap my fingers on the dash. "Better to be safe than sorry when your livelihood's at stake."

We arrive at Finn's bar and climb into a booth with Max, Finn, and their ladies. They already have drinks, and Max pushes a glass toward each of us. "You can buy the next round."

I take a long gulp and raise my glass to my friend. "Thanks, man, appreciate it."

We shoot the shit until our pizzas arrive, then the table falls silent as we dig in. Finn's crew makes some of the best pizzas I've tasted. He installed a proper pizza oven after he took over the pub from his dad.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Molly says as she climbs out of the booth. Max kisses her like she's leaving town for a month and when he turns back to us, he's wearing a satisfied expression. Lucky bastard.

"So … are you looking forward to being a dad?" Aaron asks Max.

His spine straightens, and a grin slides across his lips. "I can't fucking wait. I can't wait to hold our baby. To teach them how to play soccer and work on cars. Molly's going to be the best mom ever and I'm excited to watch her with our little one."

"What about keeping them safe? Don't you worry about something happening to them?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Well, yeah. We won't let anything happen to them."

"But you can't guarantee that," I snap. I learned the hard way; that's why kids aren't in my plans.

"No, but we can do our best and not put them in a situation that would be dangerous." His eyes narrow at me as his brows dip low over his hazel eyes and guilt makes my stomach roll. Is that what I did? "What is this about, Linc?"

I shrug it off. "It's just difficult to keep kids safe all the time. I wanna make sure you guys have thought about that."

He nods slowly, as if he's rolling over my words in his head. "We'll work it out, Linc. I know Molly and I will do our best." Yeah, but sometimes our best isn't enough. "Our kids will be our priority and we won't let our guard down. I promise." His words ease something inside me. A deep worry that I've always carried with me since I was seven.

* * *

I blow the hair out of my face for the millionth time and Sophie chuckles. "I can make an appointment for you at Beyond the Fringe if you like."

I stop my gun, remove it from the client's skin, and peer up at her. "Yeah?"

She raises and drops one shoulder. "I'm always happy to help however I can." She's already shown us that, but organizing a haircut isn't part of her duties; she's not my personal assistant. "I can text Hope, my old manager."

"Is she any good?"

She nods sharply. "One of the best. She specializes in curly and wavy hair."

"Well, yeah, thanks. I'd appreciate it."

I finish up with my client and explain the aftercare procedure carefully. He nods a lot, but I don't trust he's going to take it seriously. "It's important that you follow these instructions properly, man." I shove my finger down on the aftercare pamphlet.

"Yeah, man. No problem-o." He tips his chin up at me, raps his knuckles on the counter, and heads out the door, leaving the pamphlet behind.

Sophie looks at me with raised brows. "What are the chances he's gonna end up with an infection and will need to come back?"

"Pretty high."

Sophie heads over to my station to sanitize the area, and I head to the office to print the design for Aaron. He's been wanting something for a while and this geometric leg sleeve is going to look fantastic.

Sophie walks in, stopping right beside me, holding up her phone. "Hope can fit you in first thing in the morning." She covers the receiver. "She had a last-minute cancellation. I'd grab it if I were you, because she's always fully booked."

"Okay, yeah. I'll take it. Thanks."

She grins, then turns her back to me and my eyes drop to admire her round ass, which is right there in my face and my hands itch to touch it, caress it, grab it.

"Oh, I love it here. It's exactly where I'm meant to be. Yeah, my boss is amazing." My heart expands with pride at the happiness in her tone. "Thanks, Hope, I'll see you tomorrow." I frown as she disconnects the call. "You're booked in for eight."

Leaning her hip against my desk, her coconut scent surrounds me. I'm never going to be able to enjoy coconut without associating it with Sophie. "Thanks. Are you getting a haircut too?"

She tilts her head to the side. "No. I thought I'd come with you so I can introduce you."

That would mean we'll spend time together outside of work, which could be dangerous for me. She already has me in a twist and I'm not sure if it would be such a good idea. "You don't have to go to any trouble. Just shoot me the address."

She waves her hand in the air. "It's no trouble. It'll be great to see Hope." Her eyes trace my face carefully and her delicate eyebrows lower. Damn. "Unless you don't want me there," she says slowly, a little hurt coloring her tone.

"Linc!" Ken barges into the office, holding his phone over his head. "Jenna had her baby! It's a girl!"

"Oh, that's great news," Sophie says brightly as she takes a step away from me. "Did she say what her name is?"

"Olivia Jayne."

She grins as if she's known Jenna for years and they're best friends. "Such a pretty name." She glances at me. "Isn't it a great name?"

Ken's eyes flick between me and Sophie with interest.

"Yeah, it is," I agree, then turn back to Ken. "Are they okay?"

Ken's eyes catalog my features and he nods. He knows what I'm asking. "Yeah. She didn't say anything was wrong, so I would assume they're both doing okay."

The muscles across my shoulders relax and I breathe a sigh of relief. "Was Dean there for the delivery?"

He shrugs. "Her message didn't say."

"I'll call her later."

The bell for the front door rings and Sophie leaves the office. Ken leans against the doorjamb. "What was going on in here?"

I turn my attention back to my desk. "Sophie booked me in for a haircut at her old salon."

"Was that all that was happening because I felt some tension in here when I walked in?" A tinge of concern in his tone.

"Yep."

He studies me closely and I studiously concentrate on my task, avoiding eye contact with him. He knows me too well. I started my apprenticeship here with him when I was in my late teens and eventually bought the studio from him when he no longer wanted the strife of operating a business. He huffs but leaves me to my muddled thoughts.