“I know.” Millie’s eyes filled. She blinked to keep from crying, which sent Beau’s worry up another notch.
“I don’t know what happened,” Millie said. “I’ve never seen him like this, not in all the time I’ve worked for him.”
Beau brushed past her, opened the door to Linc’s private office, then went over to the paneled wall, opened the door and walked into the private adjoining suite.
On the far side of the room, Linc was sprawled on the caramel leather sofa, an empty bottle of Stagg Kentucky Bourbon in his hand.
“What the fuck? I haven’t seen you drunk since before you went to jail.”
Linc groaned as he sat up on the sofa, set the empty whiskey bottle down on the floor at his feet.
“You love her that much?” Beau asked.
Linc’s white shirt, a solid mass of wrinkles, hung open to the waist, and his tie was gone. He’d clearly been wearing the same pair of navy blue slacks for days.
“I love her,” he said, not sounding nearly as drunk as he looked. “Trouble is she doesn’t love me.”
“Bullshit. She loves you. You said something wrong. You did something. Somehow you screwed it up.”
He just shook his head.
“Where is she?”
“Out at the ranch. I told her she could stay as long as she wanted. I don’t care about it anymore.”
“Goddammit.” Turning, Beau started for the door. “Get cleaned up. We’ve got work to do.”
Linc made no reply.
Beau left him sitting there, walked out of the suite, and returned to Millie’s desk. “I think he’s through the worst of it. Give him twenty minutes, then suggest he take a shower and get cleaned up.”
She nodded. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to fix this. I’m not sure how, but I’m going to do my best.”
Millie flashed him a look of hope. “He loves her so much.”
“I know.”
* **
An hour and forty-five minutes later, the chopper set down on the pad at Blackland Ranch. He’d called ahead and had the Jeep waiting. Ten minutes more and he was pulling up in front of the low brick ranch house Linc called home—or had until two days ago.
He hoped Carly was still there, hoped to hell he could find a way to make things right for her and his best friend.
Praying he wasn’t there on a fool’s errand, Beau took a deep breath and climbed out of the Jeep.
* * *
Carly answered the door, surprised to see Beau Reese standing on the porch.
“May I come in?” Beau asked. With his black hair curling softly over the collar of his shirt and his brilliant blue eyes, Linc’s partner was amazingly handsome. He was tall and lean and fit, the kind of man women drooled over. For Carly, though, no man could compare to Linc.
She stepped back to let him in. “If you’re looking for Linc, he isn’t here.”
“No, he’s in his suite at the office—drunk out of his wits.”
“What?”
