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“But—” he begins.
She shakes her head. “No arguments with me, but what I mean is no arguing with her on your date. Just be seen and get out. Five minutes is all we need—enough time for a photo opp. Hell, go to the grocery store, I don’t care. Just be sure to tip off the paps first. But then lay low and stay focused. Jolene, stay out of Lincoln’s place. We’ll start there, and I’ll figure out a follow up plan. Anything else?”
I shake my head. “Thanks for meeting with us.”
“You’re lucky I live close.” She stands and turns to leave.
“Thanks, Ellie,” Lincoln says, and we walk her out. We stand by the front door a few beats, each of us studying the other one.
“How was your day?” I ask softly.
“Busy. You?”
“Same.” I press my lips together as I wait for him to grab me into his arms and tell me everything’s going to be okay. But that’s sort of the whole problem. I’m not sure it will be.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Rivera’s pictures?” he asks.
I lift a shoulder. “I didn’t know what to do with it, so I held onto it. I told him to back off, but I’m pretty sure he’s not going to listen.”
“Think I should have a chat with him?”
I lift a shoulder. I’m not sure if it’s a great idea or a terrible one, but one thing is certain. “If he knows you know about the photos, he’ll be more convinced than ever that there’s something going on between us.”
“Fair point.” He leans his forehead down to mine. “What the fuck are we going to do, Jo?”
I shake my head, and my forehead rolls along his. “I don’t have a clue. But I know I’m exhausted. Want to spend the night?”
“What about Jonah?” he asks.
“I’ll lock my door and we’ll make sure you’re up before he usually gets up. I just need to be in your arms tonight. Okay?”
He nods. “Yeah. I need that, too.”
It’s a much better night’s rest than the one before, and my alarm goes off a little after six. I usher Lincoln out to the couch, where he falls back asleep for a bit while I take my shower, and I feel a little better today knowing Ellie and Lincoln know about Rivera and it’s one less thing I have to worry about on my own.
After I finish getting ready, I head down the hallway toward the kitchen when I hear the unmistakable sound of my son’s giggles followed by a manly, loud, boisterous laugh.
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my lips and the warmth that radiates in my chest.
“What are you two laughing about?” I ask as I walk into the room.
“Nothing,” Jonah says at the same time as Lincoln, and a twinkle lights both their eyes. I glance at the television and see Minions on again, and I just get the strangest inclination that this big, bad football coach who commands every room he walks into was imitating minions to my seven-year-old son’s absolute and utter delight.
“Hour until the bus,” I say lightly to Jonah as my first warning that he should start the process of getting dressed and brushing his teeth. I head to the kitchen and pack lunches for the boys. Sam saunters in looking tired, and I hand her a cup of coffee as she offers a bleary thanks and leaves to get dressed.
I get breakfast going, too—pancakes and bacon for everybody, and then we’re down to thirty minutes. “Thirty minutes and you’re still not dressed,” I call to Jonah from the kitchen. I can see him from here, and he’s still watching Minions with Lincoln and now Cade, who is fully dressed with his teeth brushed, has joined them. “Breakfast in three minutes.”
“Okay, little dude, you better go get ready,” Lincoln tells Jonah. Little dude? Adorable. “I’ll time how long it takes you. Ready? Go!”
I’ve already said it twice and the kid has basically ignored me, but Lincoln says it once and Jonah scampers off to his room to get dressed.
It’s like pure magic.
I’ve never been able to find the solution to having enough time to get dressed and eat breakfast in the morning. Every morning, it’s the same rush, and I’ve searched and searched for some solution to that.
Apparently, that solution is none other than Lincoln Nash.
CHAPTER 3: LINCOLN
