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“Sorry,” I apologized. “It took longer than I expected.” I flashed her a smile and nodded toward the load as Harrison silently retreated toward the hall to get the rest.
“What is all this, Linc?” she asked, slowly approaching like she was addressing a wild animal.
“Poetry books,” I announced, waving my hand dismissively. “So you have something to do during the day instead of cooking.”
A series of emotions flashed over Mylee’s face, none of them identifiable, her dark eyes darting from me to the massive pile and back again.
“What did you do?” she gasped.
“I got you some reading material.”
Tentatively, she neared the bags, recognizing the name. “Is this the same place we went to when we had lunch that day?”
I nodded. “You seemed to like that store.”
Dropping my keys on the foyer table, I joined her side, watching as she removed one of the titles from inside the paper bags. “How many did you buy?” she mumbled, more to herself than to me.
“All of them.”
She turned and faced me, shaking her head in disbelief. “You didn’t have to do that, Linc.”
Nonchalantly, I shrugged, enjoying the way her eyes glistened. “No, Linc, you have done enough for me—”
“Stop saying that,” I interjected sharply. “It’s only stuff, Mylee.”
Her face twisted. “It might not mean anything to you, but it’s something to me. I… I don’t know what to say.”
She stared at me imploringly, and I wanted to grab her and kiss her, the urge overwhelming. I resisted it, turning away.
“Say you’ll read them,” I said lightly as Harrison returned with the next load of books. “And that you’ll feed me those tacos.”
“Yes… of course,” she mumbled. “It’s literally the least I can do.”
“No,” I corrected her. “You could do much less, but you’ve proven yourself time and again with us. This is just a gesture of our appreciation.”
Mylee slid across the floor as I moved toward the hall, leading toward the kitchen and dining room, her hand stopping me.
“Your appreciation,” she corrected me. “This is all you.”
I stared at her manicured hand on my arm, her vanilla and rose body wash wafting into my nose and making me hard.
“It’s from all of us,” I said gruffly, pulling myself back, fighting the incredible desire to succumb and kiss her.
“Linc…”
“Is dinner ready?” I called, sailing into the kitchen. “I really am starving.”
* * *
Several times throughout the night, I caught Mylee sneaking me looks across the hired Hummer limo. She sat sandwiched between Kai and Paxton, their hands not-so-subtly placed on each of her knees, peeking out from the daring slit on each side of her ivory dress. Suddenly, I understood the feeling that I had been trying to identify since I’d returned from New York.
Their relationship had turned physical when I’d been gone.
But Mylee couldn’t stop stealing glances at me, the library of poetry that I’d had delivered to her the previous night still very fresh in her heart.
And mine, too.
I should have kissed her when I had the chance. She’s not Angela. She’s nothing like Angela. She’s proven that time and again.
