He peered at my drawing again. “I assume he wants you to do it by hand.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” I stood and looked at the drawing from the same angle he studied it at.
“Print a long drawing. We’re going to work over there.” He pointed at the bigger table in the corner.
I hit print, and while I walked over to the plotter, the dimmed office lights lit up. The office went into standby mode at 5:00 p.m., and tonight, the floor was emptier than usual. Granted, it was Friday night.
I stepped back into the office and laid the drawing down on the long table. Lincoln set his tools on the desk: his pencils, scale rule, and a variety of French curves.
“While you’ll never be expected to do this for anyone else, I do believe it really strengthens the foundation of the knowledge you’ll use to design things in the future.” Lincoln’s large hands pressed down on the drawing.
Was I jealous of a drawing?
Maybe.
He lowered himself closer to the drawing while fitting the curves.
This may be the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
“But how do you know what’s right?” I asked, my breath a shameless squeak.
“Fundamentals.” He leafed through his textbook to horizontal alignment. “Come here.”
Summoned, I went closer. As close as I could reasonably be. I inhaled his fresh scent and watched his deft fingers handle the rulers and pencils with a grace that had me thinking about other things he could handle.
“What’s on your mind? You look distracted.”
My heart jumped to my throat. “Nothing.”
His lopsided grin returned. “If you say so.” He gestured for me to come even closer. “Now, calculate the k-value manually.”
I took the pencil, my hands shaking.
“About yesterday, I hope I didn’t come across as angry or rude. I’m sorry. I was in a lot of… pain, and I was trying to get comfortable.” Struggle underlined his words.
I followed the curve he’d laid out and made notes on the drawing. “Oh, um, a little, but it’s okay. I may have overstepped and shouldn’t have barged in.” I looked up at him, and my breath escaped me. He was closer than I’d anticipated. His deep gaze raked across my body underneath those long lashes.
“How’s your back?” I managed.
“Much better,” he replied, now focused on my mouth.
Shaking off my nerves, and maybe delusion, I turned my attention to the calculation and finished it before handing the pencil back to him. He drew the rest of the intersection, edging closer to me. I twirled in and out of his reach until I was sure he was playing along.
I hadn’t imagined all of this.
Lincoln walked me through his design, ensuring I understood every last bit of it. We leaned over the drawing, his shoulders pressed against mine. He reached for the pencil, trapping me between his hard body and the edge of the table. My breath hitched, and I stayed there, unmoving for a few seconds while he crowded behind me.
He didn’t move either.
With my heart rate soaring, I arched my back ever so slightly, and my body pressed against his for a brief moment. The heat between us was enough to make me lightheaded.
A heavy breath escaped him, caressing my neck, leaving gooseflesh in its place.
His right hand dropped the pencil and landed on my waist at the same second I spun around. His fingers squeezed my side, and my desperate gaze met his. Equally desperate, if not more.
He wet his lips while he focused on mine. I tilted my chin toward him. Those soft, brown eyes filled with fire. He slid his hand around my neck, cupping the back of my head before pulling me toward him.
And then he finally kissed me.
