“I think it’s wonderfully romantic,” Felicity adds. She’s been giving us heart eyes since we recounted the story of our long-distance courtship (Lincoln literally calls it courting, and I’m blushing too hard to say anything).
Lincoln’s eyes are captivating. I can’t look away. “I knew the moment I saw her, I needed her in my life.”
Felicity sighs.
“You sap,” Darcy teases, but she’s smiling at us.
“Not sure I believe it,” comes from my left, and I turn in time to see Kyle ripping a bread roll apart and throwing a piece into his mouth, smiling as he chews. “A decade of bedding down the hottest chicks I’ve ever seen, not to mention all those preppy Oxford girls, and not one of them was good enough to stick around for?”
I’m about to stick something in this asshole if he doesn’t shut up.
Listening to him talk is worse than getting my period on an overnight Greyhound when I specifically left my tampons behind because packing them “just in case” was overkill.
Cue the instant regret.
“None of them even come close to her,” Lincoln says, plucking my deepest desire from my heart as easily as a petal from a rose.
Kyle’s staring at Lincoln the same calculating way my old calico Mimi looked at visitors. She’d wait until they’d gotten comfortable, then pounce. And if you didn’t pet her just right, she’d scream in your face and dig her nails in before flouncing off. I sit up tall, trying to put as much of a barrier between them as possible, and pull my glass closer.
A little water always worked on Mimi.
Finished with his meal, Kyle throws his napkin down and sprawls back in his chair. He’s being the kind of friendly they only are when they’re up to something.
What’s the word? Smarm. Ugh. He’s oozing it. I’m half expecting it to follow him across the floor like a snail trail, sticky and foul. “Look at us, together again. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
No one around the table agrees.
It doesn’t stop Kyle for a second. “I’ve been saying it for years. Our parents had the wrong idea, splitting off and doing their own thing. With our powers combined, we could really do something special. Like take the tech company my buddy just started. Ground up, right? And the banks, they’re holding out on him, saying he’s too green to know what he’s doing, and he can’t get finance, but?—”
“I’d really rather we didn’t discuss business tonight,” Reed interjects.
“Oh, man. But it’s not really business, is it? That’s what I’m saying. You three got lucky. Deacon liked you better than the rest of us. With only a small amount of capital, you’d be the first to recognize what a gold mine we have here. And who better to support than family?”
“What kind of tech?” I ask, because I’ve got an internal bet going with myself that it’s the Silicon Valley equivalent of an MLM.
“Obviously I can’t give away anything confidential,” he says, and I want to roll my eyes so badly I’m going to strain them. “But it’s the next big thing in automatous logistics.”
“Oh, I saw something like that oniCarly,” I lie, purely to annoy the ever-living fuck out of him.
Little of his expression changes; his wide, uncanny smile holds on for dear life as his jaw strains. Oh yeah, he hated that. “Actually,” he says in that smarmy way that makes my skin crawl, “it’s far more complicated that a kids’ show, not that I’d expect you to understand.”
He looks proud of himself, as though he’s beaten me, and I want to laugh in his face. Oh, please underestimate me. It’ll be so much fun.
“Ah,” I interrupt, nodding as though I’ve discovered a key clue. “You were more of a Zack and Cody fan. I get it.”
Beside me, Lincoln lets out a soft snort. It’s no more than a quick exhale, but it’s dripping in humor. Darcy isn’t containing a smile, but she is avoiding eye contact, probably so she won’t laugh out loud.
Even Reed almost looks amused. Kyle, however, looks like he’s regretting my very existence.
“And how do you know it’s a good investment?” Reed asks. His expression is calm, but the kind of calm I assume you see before a tiger eats your face off.
“See, that’s what’s so perfect. I’ve got an eye for these things. No offense.” Kyle may as well wave a red flag at this point, on top of the awful silk button-down he’s wearing tonight. “I know you’re the big CEO guy here, but I’m telling you, I’ve got my finger on the pulse, and I know these guys. Honestly, if you want to be really smart, you’d hire me. Bring me onboard. I’ll be the best asset you have.”
Lincoln tenses every time Kyle’s arm brushes mine. It’s wildly empowering, having a man like Lincoln— strong, ferocious, Lincoln— ready to protect me. Kyle’s inane babble fades into the background while I watch Lincoln’s knuckles flex and ripple.
He has great hands.
“I can assure you,” Reed says, adjusting his wineglass on the table. His tone borders on bored, but I can see the way his left hand is tightly clenched around his fork. “If I was interested in advice on financial decisions, and I’m not, you’d be the last person I’d think of.”
