And you’re MY wife. Just making sure you don’t break before I can return you.
Willa:
You are the fucking worst.
Lincoln:
And yet.
Here we are.
Legally wed.
Full tax benefits.
Willa:
I’m going to tie you to the bed and smother you in your sleep
Lincoln:
Kinky. Text it slower next time.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LINCOLN
The following week,I was in the middle of gathering eggs from the chicken coop when a crash sounded through the open windows of the silo. Then a bitten-off string of colorful curses came from Willa—words so foul, even Mabel would’ve blushed.
I didn’t hesitate. Just dropped the basket and ran toward the house. That wasn’t justanystring of curse words. That was Willa breaking and trying like hell to pretend everything was fine because that was her default setting.
I burst through the door at full speed, my gaze darting around the scene in front of me. Willa stood hunched against the counter, white-knuckling the edge like it was the only thing holding her up. A crumpled crate of broken jam jars lay in a mess at her feet—shards of glass everywhere, along with red streaks I hoped to hell were jam.
But that wasn’t what stopped me cold.
It was her face. Her mouth was pressed in a thin line, her cheeks flushed and tightness bracketing her eyes—a pinched expression screaming only one thing. Pain.
She glanced up, caught me in the doorway, and attempted to wipe her expression clear. “I’m fine.”
No.Fuckno.
I was done playing this game with her, and I was mad as hell she was still trying to bullshit me.
“You’re not,” I said, striding toward her.
“Lincoln, I said?—”
“Don’t care.” I stepped over the glass and scooped her into my arms before she could flinch away from me.
She gasped, her eyes going wide as she placed a hand on my chest. “This is insane. I’m?—”
“Fine? Yeah, I’ve heard the line before,” I muttered, adjusting her in my arms to take any pressure off her lower back. “Try something new.”
“This is overkill, even for you,” she hissed as I headed for the stairs. “You’re being ridiculous.”
I didn’t answer right away. Couldn’t. Not when I was so focused on the way she was shifting in my grip—not from pain but from sheer resistance. Like accepting help was some kind of mortal sin in her world.
I gritted my teeth and tightened my hold. “You’re gonna hurt yourself worse by trying to prove a point. You really wanna be down for a week instead of just tonight?”
