“You’ve checked the time four times in the last ten minutes,” Derek said.
“Twelve minutes. And it was three times.”
“What’s at nine o’clock that’s so important?”
“Nothing.”
Derek raised an eyebrow. “Why is it I’m thinking you’re lying to me, cuz?”
Lincoln closed his laptop. There was no point pretending to work when his brain had already shifted focus, already started the countdown to the only appointment that actually mattered tonight.
“I have a prior commitment.”
Bear raised an eyebrow. “At nine p.m. on a Saturday?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of commitment?”
“The prior kind.”
Theo snorted. “He’s got a secret girlfriend. Calling it now.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Theo grinned. “Secret boyfriend?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend either.” Lincoln kept his voice flat, but his leg was bouncing under the table. He forced it to stop.
“Secretsomething.” Bear leaned forward. “Look at him—he’s practically twitching.”
He wasn’t twitching. He wasanticipating. There was a difference.
“Is this like Thanksgiving?” Derek asked. “When you left between the turkey and the pie to verify some equation?”
“That was important. And I came back for pie.”
“You came back at midnight. We’d already put the pie away.”
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t like pie.”
He stood up and dropped cash on the table—exact amount plus twenty-two percent tip, which he’d calculated as the optimal percentage for maintaining goodwill without appearing ostentatious.
Bear shook his head, but he was smiling. “You’re a weird guy, Linc.”
“Yes.”
“We love you anyway.”
“I know.” Lincoln shouldered his bag. “That’s why I show up.”
He was halfway to the door when Theo called after him, “Same time next week?”
“Same time next week.”
The door swung shut behind him, cutting off the warmth and noise of the bar. Outside, the Wyoming night stretched cold and quiet, exactly the way Lincoln preferred it.
He had seventeen minutes to get home.
