Pierre hums softly, a rascally look on his face. “And we could roast them. They are delicious with the right sauce.” He smacks his lips together.
“Pierre, no!” I shriek.
“Where do you think chicken comes from, mademoiselle? If not from a chicken?” He throws his hands in the air.
“But these would be different. I’d know them.”
“Ah, you would name them all, wouldn’t you? Sillymonchou.” He chuckles and shakes his head.
Lincoln claps him on the back. “If Imogen gets some chickens, you cannot put them in a sauce, old friend.”
Pierre grumbles but I can’t help smiling so widely that my cheeks hurt. Lincoln didn’t say no. In fact, he seemed totally open to the idea. Maybe one day, when I’ve cleared plenty of space in the garden, I’ll officially ask him if we can get some—a chicken proposal. He’s always telling me to ask for what I want, after all.
I head deeper into the pantry, searching for eggs when I notice the box on the shelf. A large box of Milky Way bars. It makes my throat clog up with emotion. As a child who was never allowed candy, I enjoyed the bars that Lincoln bought me a few weeks ago immensely. But I didn’t dare ask for any to be added to the monthly grocery shop. I’ve never seen them in the pantry before, and to find them now and know that once again Lincoln has thought about my needs, makes me feel overwhelmed with happiness. I grab the eggs and make my way back to the kitchen.
Lincoln hands me my coffee and I smile at him. He gives me a half smile back, running a hand over his jaw. He never attempts to hide his scars now, and I don’t notice them either. Well, not any more than I notice the rest of him. They remind me of how similar we are, that we’ve both endured and are still standing. And they’re simply a part of his face—the most handsome face I’ve ever seen. “You bought Milky Ways?”
He blows on his coffee. “You said you liked them.”
“Thank you, Lincoln.” I feel the blush creep over my cheeks at the use of his name, which I usually only reserve for the bedroom.
He drops a soft kiss on the top of my head. “You don’t have to thank me for food, angel.”
“How were your eggs and toast?” Lincoln asks.
I glance at my almost-empty plate. I’ve been experimenting with different foods all week and trying to decide what I actually enjoy eating, which for some reason seems to have pleased both Lincoln and Pierre. “Very filling and quite tasty. Still not as good as waffles though.”
He gives me that wonderful half smile.
“Maybe we could both have waffles tomorrow?”
“I have to leave tonight, angel.”
I try my best not to look disappointed but obviously don’t do a good enough job. I glance down at my plate so he doesn’t see the tears burning in my eyes. I’ve never been a crier, and yet here I am welling up at him leaving. It’s weak and against everything I was ever taught, but I can’t help it. He cups my chin, tipping my head until I’m forced to look at him.
“What’s with the sad face?”
“I’ll miss you.”
He leans across the table and dusts his lips over mine. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that, angel. And I’ll miss you too.”
If missing him makes me weak, then that would mean he’s weak too, and Lincoln Knight is definitely not weak. “Why do you have to go away so much?”
He grinds his jaw. “It’s what I do.”
“Like your job?”
“Kind of. It’s hard to explain.”
“I’m sure I’m smart enough to understand.” I regret the sassy remark as soon as it leaves my mouth, but it only makes himgive me that lazy grin of his. I’ve come to realize he likes my feisty side, which is a good thing, because I really like it too.
“You most definitely are, angel. One day I’ll tell you, but for now... Let me just do what I do, okay?” His dark eyes burn into mine.
“You’re not going to another auction are you?”
He pushes back his chair and walks around the table before dropping to his knees and taking both my hands in his. “I swear to you that you are the only person I have ever paid for, Imogen DeMotta. And believe it or not, I did that to protect you.”
I brush away the tear that leaks from the corner of my eye. “I do believe that, Lincoln.” That’s true, even if I don’t understand it.
