I wish I shared her confidence.
I manage a tense smile.
“He told me his mother got after him. Apparently, she’s pulling for us and told him it’s like a romance movie that needs to end with grandkids for her.” I smile with my cheeks heating again.
Eliza blinks at me.
“He told you that?”
I nod. “We laughed about it later.”
“Dakota! You shouldn’t wonder anything.”
“Come again?” I look at her, not following.
“You’ve got a dude telling you about his cute little fights with mama. A dude who also looks at you like you’re his hottest fantasy come to life.” She leans forward and flicks me softly between the eyes. “Dakota, you don’t fake that stuff. Lincoln Burns is basically your boyfriend and I hope to God you’re ready.”
I barely remember to rub the bridge of my nose, too stunned by the insane possibility she might be right.
And if she is?
Oh, crap.
It’s eight p.m. sharp when Lincoln emerges from his office. I came in late to catch up on some work after that heart-pulverizing morning talk with Eliza.
“Why are you still here?” He stops at my desk.
“Lucy’s emails took the whole day. I didn’t start ad work until after four.”
He leans against my desk, a tower of a man who still looks hot even when he’s at his most mundane.
“I appreciate the commitment. Are you coming home with me tonight?”
I do fairly often these days. It’s practically habit now.
“Is that an invitation?” I look at him slowly, trying to play it cool but failing.
“Always,” he growls.
I giggle. “Well, okay.”
“I’ll be ready in an hour or so. If you get to a good stopping place anytime soon, could you order us some dinner?”
“Will do.”
He moves closer to me, bends down, and kisses me. “I told myself after I dealt with that last proposal I’d get a reward.”
“Let me guess—I’m your reward?”
“Since you’re the hottest thing in my life? Yes.” He kisses me again, showing just what sort of reward he has in mind.
And I’m happy to oblige, savoring his tongue against mine, the brash way he moves inside my mouth. I can’t peel my eyes off him until his back is turned and he’s heading for his office, shooting one last longing, heated look over his shoulder.
God.
This man.
He’s a human chess piece and it’s scary how easily he’s put my whole heart into checkmate.
An hour later, after work is done and we’re in the town car on the way home, I say, “I shouldn’t work so late. But my hardass boss has me doing double duty...”
“He pays you well for both jobs. Plus, certain duties that come with one hell of a bonus.” The way his eyes rake me up and down promises perks infinitely better than money.
“Maybe, but why do you work so late all the time?”
“Contracts tonight. They keep the money rolling in so I can pay my employees—particularly beautiful ones who are mighty serious about salaried hours.”
His words make me smile.
“Thanks, but I don’t just mean tonight. Word is you’ve been all work and no play for a long time.” Yes, I’m pushing now. A little more determined to figure Lincoln out.
He gives me a long look before he speaks.
“Blame it on the Corps, I guess. The military made me crave hard work and the devil’s hours. Also, my mother retired not long after my father died. There was plenty to do at the office and long hours were necessary in the transition. Working like hell helped me,” he says, an odd hardness in his voice.
“Helped how?”
He sighs. “It was easier to deal with my old man’s death if I could keep my parents’ legacy alive. If I didn’t have spare time on my hands to dwell on the grief, it didn’t need to hurt so much.”
His eyes darken, russet-brown dimming to walnut.
“I’m sorry, Lincoln. I can’t even imagine...” I reach across the seat for his hand.
He takes my fingers and squeezes hard.
“It’s whatever. The business does better every year, and Ma’s good work lives on. I’m damn proud of that,” he says.
“You should be.”
He reaches for the door and pushes the button to roll up the privacy screen. “Working around the clock also kept me from getting into other trouble—”
“Other trouble?”
“You know what happened with my engagement falling through, but it’s not just that. If I’ve learned anything from my parents and Wyatt, it’s that relationships are fucking hard, and losing them is death. I decided I didn’t have the time or will. Not until a chick with a raven tattoo invaded my life and started sending me erotic poetry.”
I grin. “Are you saying you could give up the workaholic loner life?”
“I’m telling you I’m bewitched, Nevermore.”
He runs his fingers through my hair, a subtle tension in his face that makes me burn.
Poor Louis barely has time to stop in front of the building before Lincoln pulls me out, ferrying me up to his place.