And there was that old ache again, the bruise that never faded, Wyatt’s ability to flip on a dime, temper flaring, hurtful words flying, especially when he’d been drinking. Then in the morning, he’d be sober, saving Linc’s ass at work again, all forgotten, except not really.
Even knowing Wyatt was wrong, Linc didn’t want to risk hearing that same accusation from Jon or one of the other siblings, or even Jenna herself. She was the closest thing he’d had to a mom since his own died when he was eleven. He couldn’t bear it if she pushed him away, if he lost this family too, right along with losing Wyatt and everything else.
For all that he didn’t much care for parties, he’d always loved being in this house, all the happy people and commotion. A baseball game was on in the living area while kids played outside, patio door wide open as they raced back and forth. The women were in the kitchen, gossiping and setting up food. It was familiar and comforting, but he didn’t know how much longer he’d have it, especially with that urge to move on that he couldn’t seem to shake. Even if he pulled up stakes, he’d still be drawn back here if Jenna asked, heart still called to the family that wasn’t his.
“So.” Jenna plunked a plate of finger foods down in front of him. “How much trouble is Jacob giving you?”
It took him a moment to realize she meant on the job and not the memories of the kiss keeping him up at night.
“He’s working out.” He kept his voice guarded. She undoubtedly wanted Jacob to not pass training, but Linc wasn’t about to lie to her. Instead, he added, “I’m doing my best to keep him safe.”
“And who’s keeping you safe?” Jacob rolled his eyes, clearly already over Linc feeling responsible. “I swear all of you guys need to remember that I’m not in diapers anymore.”
“Trust me, I’m not in danger of forgetting.” Linc tried to tell him with his eyes that he was well aware that Jacob was fully grown.
“Good.” Jacob’s eyes sparkled with a mischievousness that made Linc’s stomach churn, equal parts arousal and alarm. Linc was almost relieved when Jon called Jacob over to see something on his phone.
Linc made small talk with Jenna until she went back to the other women, then rocked the baby and ate his food and let the party swirl around him. Eventually, May claimed the baby back for a feeding. Jon motioned for him to come join the sports fans on the couches, but Linc wasn’t in the mood for more uncomfortable suggestions so he wandered a bit, playing trucks with Junior and some of the other younger boys. When they got bored, Linc ended up heading outside to the firepit like he hadn’t known all along where he was headed. Jacob was just working on lighting the thing as the evening temperatures dropped.
“Need a hand?” he asked, squatting down next to him.
“Yours? Always.” Jacob was far too flirty for his family being close by, but Linc liked the warmth in his tone too much to call him on it.
“Here.” Linc handed him some kindling. Same as with the baby, they worked together silently, doing this task like they’d done it a thousand times before, when the reality was that the firepit had always been Wyatt’s domain, not Jacob’s. He liked working alongside Jacob, something that had both annoyed and buoyed him the last week, the way Jacob could often read his mind, anticipate what he was about to ask.
And somehow once the fire was going, they ended up the only two out there in the big wooden chairs, alone but not really. They sat in a companionable silence for a while before Jacob shifted, leaning forward, voice a bare whisper. “You know, I’ve been thinking—”
“Please don’t.” Linc wasn’t trying to be funny. The look on Jacob’s face, at once mischievous and earnest, so damn appealing, both turned him on and put him immediately on edge.
“We need to get this—” Jacob gestured between them “—out of our systems. Once and for all.”
“No.” It didn’t work like that, and it spoke to how damn young Jacob still was that he thought it did.
“Hear me out. One night. Then we can concentrate on work after. Put it behind us. Take away the mystery maybe.”
Linc snorted. It might be simply curiosity for Jacob, but it sure wasn’t for him. “It wouldn’t work.”
“Maybe not, but I at least want to try. You don’t?”
“I’m not an itch you scratch once.”
“That sure of yourself, huh?”
More like he was that sure of Jacob, but he said nothing, just stood. His no might be firm now, but he wasn’t made of iron either. Enough wheedling from Jacob and he might get twisted up enough to agree to that ridiculous plan.