The second Sutton and I walked in, Chloe looked up from behind the bar and beamed at us.
“Finally,” she said. “I was about to file a missing person’s report.”
I kept my gaze locked on her because I didn’t dare look around. Of course the girls would pick tonight to go out—one of only two nights this week Lincoln was working late. And there was no doubt he was here. I could feel that constant buzz beneath my skin that hummed whenever he was near.
“I think you’re being a little dramatic,” I said. “It’s been three days.”
“Have youmetme? Xander bought me a coffee cup that saysI am the drama.”
“Most accurate mug I’ve ever seen,” Sutton said, grabbing two of the margarita glasses Chloe passed over.
“Time for drinking and secret-spilling, ladies.” Chloe grabbed the remaining glass and stepped out from behind the bar, leading the way to a booth in the back.
I started to follow them, but before I could take a single step, a finger hooked into my belt loop and yanked me back against a hard chest. My breath caught in my throat as I turned, already expecting who I’d find. Already bracing myself for it.
And sure enough, Lincoln stood there, close enough that the scent of him hit me right along with the warmth of his body seeping into my back. And then there was the grin he sent my way, all playful and amused.
“Where do you think you’re going, wife?” He tilted his head, studying me like he could see straight through me. “You’ve been hiding from me, so I’m sure as hell gonna get my fill now.”
I opened my mouth to respond—with deflection or snark, I wasn’t sure. But before I could say a word, Lincoln was there, his hand cupping the back of my neck and his lips pressed to mine.
The kiss wasn’t indecent. Technically. Just the barest brush of his tongue against mine, his soft hum of satisfaction vibrating against my lips. But the shock wave it sent through me was enough to leave me reeling.
He pulled back and grinned down at me, obnoxiously pleased with himself as he darted his gaze over my face. “Time to have fun with your girls. But I’ll be seeing you at home tonight, wife.”
Then he swatted my ass before stepping behind the bar like he hadn’t just activated every sleeper cell in my body.
I stared at him for a second too long, then shook my head to clear it before glaring at him over my shoulder. Smug jackass knewexactlywhat he was doing. Sure enough, he caught my scowl, but instead of being chastened, he just winked at me before getting back to work.
I hated his stupid face. And I really,reallyhated how much I didn’t actually hate him.
I slid into the booth across from Sutton and Chloe and downed half my margarita in one go. If I had any hope of making it through the night, I needed to calm my nerves. Along with this ever-present hum in my body, reminding me my husband was far too close for my sanity.
The girls’ night dishing session started off easy. Chloe talked about Mabel’s latest promotion at Wicked Little Things—buy a vibe, get a cookie—and how Emma was in a kitten-only language phase. Sutton gave us the inside scoop on how much Laurel was enjoying working with me at the farmandthe blooming crush she had on a girl at school.
This was fine. I could handle this kind of gossip since it wasn’t centered anywhere near me. When they started talking about the weird, invisible tension between Penelope and Declan, I started to relax.
Rookie mistake.
Sutton reached for a chip, dipped it in some guac, and then, as casual as ever, said, “Okay, we’re not grilling you…”
Chloe cut in, her smile bright. “She’s lying. We’redefinitelygrilling you.”
My stomach flipped, my heart sinking, knowing that grilling me meant digging deep into my very much fake relationship with Lincoln. How the hell was I going to pass this test?
“What’s there to grill me about?” I asked, attempting to keep my voice level.
Sutton lifted a single brow and brought her margarita to her lips. “Oh, I don’t know… Maybe the fact that half the time I’ve seen you and Lincoln together, you’ve looked like you were about to claw each other’s eyes out? And now you’remarried?”
Chloe nodded. “I’m with Sutton—I was just as skeptical.”
Oh god. This was it. They were going to call me out on Lincoln’s and my lie. Then everyone would know about our sham marriage, and Lincoln and I would be done. No more cohabitating. No more sharing one bed. No more late-night reading companion or daily verbal sparring partner or grocery store co-shopper. No more surprise deliveries of my favorite coffee or Danish, no more tickles when I had a back spasm, and no more practice make-out sessions.
And, of course, the grant would no longer be an option. Thegrantwas the biggest deal here. Obviously.
A flush had worked its way up my chest, pooling in my cheeks, as I tried to get my story straight. Trying to figure out what the hell I was going to tell them.
Then a grin cracked Sutton’s stony expression, and she winked. “Turns out, the only thing you wanted to claw was the clothes off his body. Honestly, been there.”
