“This life is so new to Taylor, Linc. I just worry so much about her.”
Although Lincoln had never loved a woman as much as his brother loved Taylor, he fully understood why Victor was so protective. If he’d had a wife, he would have done anything he could to prevent her from experiencing any kind of pain.
“I know you do, but she’s strong. She’s already proven that.”
Victor took another gulp, frowning when he swallowed the burning liquid. He returned the glass to his desk and sighed. “She’s pregnant, Linc,” he whispered.
Lincoln sighed, understanding his brother’s murderous intentions. It wasn’t just concern for his wife, but his unborn child as well.
“That’s all the more reason for you to let your team handle the media. This should be a happy time for you and your wife.
Victor nodded. “You’re right.”
After a soft knock on the door, Renee peered inside.
Victor stood. “Please, come in,” he invited, extending his hand, gesturing toward the chair in front of his desk.
She entered and took a seat as suggested.
“I’d like to apologize for my outburst. I’m terribly sorry if you were frightened by my behavior.”
Renee shook her head. “Governor, there’s no need to apologize. I totally understand. That headline infuriated me as well.”
“Thank you, Renee.” Victor returned to his seat. “Do we have a plan?”
“We do,” Renee replied with confidence. “The copy editor owes me a favor. I’ll get him to quash the story.”
“A favor?”
“A big one,” she confirmed with a smirk and a raised brow.
She seemed sure, and Victor seemed a little less stressed. Feeling as if he no longer needed to restrain his brother, Lincoln stood and excused himself.
He stepped out, closed the door behind him, and headed down the hall. When he arrived in front of Victor and Taylor’s bedroom door, he could hear the television. After a brief hesitation, he knocked on the door.
“Come in,” she answered softly.
Lincoln cracked the door. “You decent, sis?”
“Yeah. Come on in.”
When he stepped inside, he found Taylor seated on the loveseat with the remote in her hand. On the television was a news story about the shooting.
Lincoln walked over to the loveseat and slid the remote out of her hand. He turned off the television and sat next to her. “Wanna talk?”
“Not really,” she muttered.
“Taylor, you’ve been through some serious shit. I know better than anyone that if you leave that shit to fester, it’ll rot you from the inside out.”
Taylor sighed. “I’m fine, Linc. Ihavebeen shot before.”
Her tone was stern but unconvincing.
Lincoln reached for her hand. “Yes, but you’ve never witnessed someone murdered in cold blood. That’s a traumatic experience for anyone. I’ve been there and I’ve had to work through it. Hell, between you and me…I’m still working through it.”
Her cheeks flushed and Lincoln could see that she was fighting back tears.
“Yeah?” Her voice was small and timid.
