At the very least, he didn’t hate me. Well, not enough to leave me stranded in a forest overnight.
But enough to stiffen when I’d hugged him.Why did I hug him?I cringed at the memory. I’d been so relieved to see him that I even thought I’d imagined him. But he was real. He was there. Strong and tall and warm.
Lincoln’s truck revved. I snapped out of it and turned the ignition. Seconds later, I jerked forward as my car was pulled out of the ditch. I turned the wheel, following his movements as we straightened my car.
What should I say when we get to the cabin? Would we talk?
Multiple scenarios played out in my mind. Would he be nasty?No.That wasn’t in his nature… even though it was something I was accustomed to. Would he ignore me?Maybe. Probably.Would we go back to the way we were before last night?
I paused there, wanting a different answer, but all I could think was:Absolutely not.
Pain zapped through my already aching heart.I’d lost Lincoln. I’d lost Link.My hands tightened around the steering wheel, and my eyes stung with tears. The road ahead of me blurred, and I blinked the mistiness away.
I blew out a long, shuddering breath.
Lincoln Carden wouldn’t let his personal feelings affect the way he treated me professionally. But Mr. Anders would. The other managers might. And by now, I’d bet they’d all seen that article.
Lincoln drove off the road to an even narrower path. The growl of his truck stopped, but the lights stayed on. His door flung open, and he hopped out, lifting the hood of his jacket as he walked over to my side of the car. I pulled out my key and opened the door. Before I could say anything, he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded again. “Just a headache.”
“Did you hit your head? Are you bleeding or anything? I can call a doctor or take you to the hospital.”
“No, I’m fine. I’m… I was just scared,” I managed, wanting to say so much more, but my voice cracked.
A softness spread across his hard features. He shut his eyes and walked over to my trunk. “It’s locked.”
“It’s okay. I can manage.” I joined him at the back of my car.
He grabbed my bag and swung the backpack across his shoulders. “Go on in. It’s open. I’ve got this. Please.”
I didn’t deserve his kindness. It made my heart ache as much as my head did.
Following his instruction, I walked ahead until the cabin came into view. Flashbacks of our last visit lit up my brain. Things were completely different between us. So much had happened since I’d pressed my hands against his body.
Warm air slapped against my cheeks. The gentle smell of woodsmoke reached me, but there were no flames in the fireplace.
Lincoln walked past me and up to the first door. He pushed it open. “Yours.” He dropped the bags outside the door and walked into the kitchen. He took out a small bottle of ibuprofen and put it on the counter. “We have a site meeting at seven thirty. Be ready at seven if you plan on driving with me,” he said with a deep sigh. “Which I’d recommend.”
I nodded, aware of how exhausted he looked. Of the pain he carried while wearing a massive jacket and a pair of pajama pants and sneakers.
Lincoln Carden had come looking for me because he was worried. A longing I didn’t know what to do with consumed me. Did he care about me? About Lily?
Or was he just the kindest, most wonderful person to have ever existed? Because I could believe that.
He disappeared into his bedroom, and before anything else, I grabbed my pajama pants and a T-shirt and walked into thebathroom. I climbed into the tub and turned on the attached shower. As the water heated, I let it wash off the mud that had settled underneath my nails when I’d attempted to dig my car out by hand. My fingers hurt, and my headache was relentless.
As my body recovered from the shock, tears streamed down my face and swirled into the brown water until it eventually ran clear.
When I left the bathroom, I heard shuffling from the room at the back, which I assumed to be Lincoln’s. I dragged my luggage into my room and sorted through everything. With everything aching, I opened my door and scanned the kitchen for the bottle of ibuprofen.
It sat beside a grilled cheese sandwich and a glass of water.
My pathetic little heart fluttered.
My alarm went off the next morning and shocked me awake. I stumbled out of bed, ignoring the significance of the date, and put on my site-appropriate clothing.
My bedroom was adjacent to the kitchen, and when I stepped out, I was faced with Lincoln sitting at the island in a T-shirt and pair of jeans. He looked at me and nodded; I nodded back. His eyes landed on my ugly shoes and self-consciousness flooded through me, but he didn’t say anything. He turned back to his cereal and put another spoonful into his mouth.
