Lincoln takes in a few even breaths and doesn’t say a word. His gaze makes its way back to Luke, and his nostrils flare. The fine tooth of jealousy has pricked him. My entire body lights up with promise. Maybe the road to Lincoln’s heart doesn’t require as much pruning as I thought. I had envisioned hacking through entire thickets of dead, twisted vines snaking around his chest like a vise, smothering him in the memory of his old girlfriend until it was all he could do just to breathe.
“And you’re okay with this?” he asks Luke point-blank.
A part of me is disappointed because what I was hoping for was a tiny declaration of hands-off-she’s-mine bravado, but it doesn’t look as if things are moving in that direction.
Luke slings his arm around my shoulder, and that easy grin of his glides up his face. “Macy’s my girl. I couldn’t be prouder to call her my own.” And there it is. Luke fashioned his words into a knife and plunged them right into his brother’s eye.
Luke couldn’t be prouder, and Lincoln couldn’t be more ashamed.
Lincoln continues to glare at his brother as if he might pull out a real knife and plunge it into Luke’s skull. He’s killed before. He’s no stranger to getting off with simply a slap on the wrist.
But as for me, my heart sinks, melts to the floor, and cowers into the earth where I wish I could hide my humiliation.
Is Lincoln Lionheart really that ashamed to be associated with me?
Apparently so.
Lincoln
A few days trickle by with Macy avoiding my bedroom, not sure why—either I scraped her so raw that I’ve cured her need to get laid for the rest of the decade, or she’s waiting for flowers and candy. Knowing my sweet little Sin, it’s the latter. It’s my fault for going along with all of that romance bullshit.
I’ve filled her head with realities that simply don’t exist, but she’s still bopping around whenever she can. Happy to see me, and both my ego and me are glad about it. She’s addicting. I’ll admit it. There’s something about her that feels like a relief from this hard-lined world.
It’s Trattoria night, so Macy hitches a ride with me, something about going green and saving the planet, which inspires a rumble of laughter from me.
“My mother used to say, ‘I read the book. The planet doesn’t win.’” I’m just so glad she’s willing to sit next to me, and I haven’t scared her into hating me that I’d spew just about anything. Macy doesn’t respond to my stab at humor. In fact, she looks slightly offended. “You know, the Bible. The planet doesn’t win.”
“I get it.” She still looks affronted. “I don’t mind driving next time.”
“What the hell? How do you go from going green to pissed off so quickly?”
“You’re such a brute. If you don’t want me anywhere near you, just come out and say it. The last thing I want is to be classified as one of your cling-ons—a redhead you had to save from her virginity, no less.” Her voice catches when she says cling-ons.
Fuck. This is what I was afraid of. Just—please, God, don’t let her cry. My hands grip tightly around the wheel, but it’s my own neck I want to strangle.
“Look, I’m sorry,” my voice softens as I pull into a space just outside the restaurant. “I don’t want you to drive alone, especially if we’re going to the same place. I like having you around. Besides, I like your hair. I have nothing against it.” My fingers float to her long curls that drape over her shoulder, the color of bittersweet wine. I want to drink it down, starting with the hair dipped between her thighs. “Why haven’t you come to my bed?”
She drags her heavy lids over to me, her fingers already on the door handle. “You know why I haven’t come to your bed.” She takes off inside, and I sit back, mystified.
“No,” I mumble to myself. “I fucking do not.”
I follow her inside, dumbfounded to see my sisters already losing their shit while fawning over Luke. There he is, with his smug grin, his I’m-going-to-cut-you eyes that he’s positioned neatly over my throat. Stevie doesn’t have the baby with her, and I wish she did. If Maddie were here, they’d be fawning over someone who actually deserved the attention.
“Hey, Linc!” Kinsley pulls me down next to her. It sickens me to witness the goofy grins the three of them have plastered on.
“Where’s Pepper?” It was my hope she’d fall for Luke, then Macy would have to confess it was me she slept with. Fucking stupid. I know.
“Do you have a thing for Pepper?” Aspen covers her mouth. She and Pepper are pretty tight, thus the weekly invites she’s garnered.
Macy cuts me a look that says, Eat shit and die.
“No, I am not interested in Pepper,” I say it directly to Macy because it’s evident clear words are the only mode of communication I can count on, and even those are a little dicey at best.
“Speaking of interested.” Stevie wiggles a finger toward Luke. “Macy let us in on your little secret.”
“Be careful with her,” Aspen warns, but not so seriously he should heed it. “She’s our little baby, and we’re keeping an eye out on her.”
Kins sits up. “I’m not even related, and I’m keeping an eye on you.”
Something about having Kins fawning over this mockery of a relationship boils the blood in my veins.
Macy scoops up his hand, and Luke shoots a quick glance my way.
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t contain my excitement,” Macy says it with a mean edge. “Our secret is out, out, out! Hope you don’t mind.”
“Are you kidding?” Luke pulls her hand to his mouth and plants his lips on it. “I want to shout it off the rooftops. Macy O’Conner is mine.” He shoots me a look of disgust.
His impotent declaration sends the girls buzzing in a frenzy.
Kinsley knocks me in the knee while Stevie and Aspen fawn over Luke and his empty words. Macy seems to be eating it up. They look like they could be a couple, the way he’s manhandling her now with his arm draped over her shoulder, his fingers copping a fucking feel. I’m about ready to overturn the table.
“Hey?” Kins knocks me in the knee again, and I continue to ignore her in favor of staring down Van Der Wolff who feels nothing like a brother right now. “You know, I lost my phone in my car. Can you help me try to find it real quick before dinner gets going?” Kinsley pulls me out of my seat and shuffles me to the door, slapping me over the chest as soon as we get outside. The sun just dipped below the roof of the Persian restaurant across the street, streaking the sky with hard purple lines.
I hold her at bay in the event she wants to slap me again. “Your phone is in your hand, genius. Since when do you lie?”
“Since I’ve seen my big brother do it! I’m learning from the best.”
“What are you talking about?” I almost asked which big brother.
“You’re interested in her.” Her eyes get wild and squirrely. When we were kids, I would tease her about how ridiculous she looked not being able to hide a single emotion. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. I can hear her giggling at whatever you say all the way across the house. And that early morning scream? Whom did that belong to?”
I turn my head quickly. Her words were stronger than a slap. I probably deserve to be raked across the cheek for the way I’ve been acting.
I head back inside, and Kinsley follows. I’m not copping to anything just yet. So what if Kinsley knows, or thinks she knows? It was over before it began anyway. I need to get home, to get to a bar, to get anywhere but here. It feels as if a freight train is sitting on my chest.
We order, and Luke announces dinner and drinks are on him, which elicits a squeal from each of my sisters. Macy offers a sad shy glance my way, the round apples of her cheeks blushing a deep burgundy. I’m sorry, I want to say. I want to pull her close to me—plant a kiss on her right here. She’s so damn beautiful. I can’t even think of food. Luke keeps up the show with his hand touching her every now and again, leaning into her shoulder, scooting his chair so close he practically has her si
tting on his lap.
Why in the hell is this happening again? So what if my sisters know we’re fucking? I didn’t mind it that night my father made his lunatic announcement, and I don’t mind it now. It was Macy’s hang-up to begin with, not mine.
Stevie points a breadstick at Macy. “You know, you’ll have to eventually tell your uncles.”
The Cannon clan stamps through my mind. Bingo. That’s why she’s not telling. I almost want to laugh. I couldn’t care less what they think of Macy and me together. They’re not going to touch me.
“Oh, I’m not afraid of them.” Macy takes a quick sip of her drink. “In fact, they know exactly whom I’m sleeping with.” Her eyes skirt over mine as if I were scenery. Interesting. The Cannons really know? “I’m not worried what anyone in this world thinks of whom I’m with.” She shoots me a dirty look that makes my balls ache to have her in my bed again.
Why do I find it hotter than shit when she purposefully puts me down? I’m amused by this, but floored that she’s calling me out. Am I afraid of what other people think? Hell no.
“What are you looking for in this relationship, Sin?” There. Point-blank, right here at the table. Now it’s me calling her out.
“Sin?” Stevie whispers to Aspen.
Macy leans in as Luke pulls away. The show is over, and he knows it. If he touches her one more damn time, I’m going to ram that butter knife down his throat along with all the other cutlery on the table.
“What do I want from this relationship?” Her lips twist in that clever way when she’s trying to hide a smile. “Are you saying there’s a relationship?”
My chest pumps wild as that famed lump that’s usually reserved for Jackie swells in my throat. Here it is. Shit or get off the proverbial relationship pot. Do I want a relationship with Macy?
“Yes,” I blurt it out like a spasm. “We have a relationship.”
“What?” Aspen looks confused.
I get up and pull Macy toward me.
“Lincoln!” Stevie tries to break us apart as if I would ever hurt a woman. I’m afraid I might have already done that to Macy’s heart.
“What’s going on, Lionheart?” Macy spits it out, fierce, like she’s looking for a fight, but there’s a smile seeping through that not even she can hide.
“I’m not ashamed of you.” I swallow hard. “I don’t give a flying fuck what the Cannons think either, or that you happen to be one of them. I’m sorry for you in that respect—but I don’t care.” I pump a dry smile of my own.
“What about that redheaded virgin thing?”
“They happen to be my favorite kind of virgin.” I shrug it off because it’s the truth. “Some men prefer blondes; I prefer redheads.”
“But then, why did you—”
“Would you stop with the questions? This is me being nice to you for a change.” My adrenaline hits its zenith, pumping through my veins like snakes on fire.
Her lips part, pleased, as her body molds to mine. “Is this like an open declaration of your feelings for me?”
“Yes. That is very much what this is.” My eyes don’t leave hers for two reasons. One, I don’t need to meet up with the questions that my sisters might have, and, two, this girl has gotten me hooked in the very worst—the very best way. I can’t tear my eyes from hers. I don’t want to. She’s the only woman I ever want to see. The only woman I want to be with.
I hop up onto my chair. “Listen up!” I shout across the expanse of the packed interior, and a few of the people look suddenly terrified as if I’m about to take down the place with an AK-47. “There’s something I want the world to know. I’m falling in love with this girl right here—Macy O’Conner.” There. I said it. A pulse of relief rushes through me, mingling with my already coursing adrenaline, and it’s the greatest rush I’ve ever felt. “And I don’t give a flying shit who knows it.” I hop back down and pull her tiny frame to mine. “Is that clear?”
Her head bobs, stunned. “You’re falling in love with me?”
“Too soon?”
“Just in time.” Her mint green eyes spin like pinwheels. “Because I’m falling in love with you, too.”
My mouth crashes over hers as the room breaks out in a series of catcalls. I can hear Stevie and Aspen questioning each other, grilling Kinsley for answers. Then slowly, the rest of the room fades away in a quiet rush, and it’s just Macy’s hot mouth and mine expressing our newfound feelings in the best way possible.
Someway, somehow, Macy has managed to pull me out of the valley.
* * *
Macy and I take off from the Trattoria without any of the drama of saying goodnight to my sisters—my brother. They can figure it out. We drive to the house, and I park out front for a moment. This has got to be the last time I do this. I need a place of my own far away from Kinsley and her insanity. I’ll gift her with a pit bull and a Glock the day I leave. She’ll be more than fine.
We get out, and I scoop Macy up and carry her all the way inside.
“Don’t stop now, cowboy. I want to go all the way up.”
“Up?”
“As in up and out.”
“Done deal.” I carry her past the office that doubles as her bedroom and in through my room, up the stairwell to the widow’s walk. It’s a cool L.A. evening, still reeling from near triple digit temperatures, not uncommon for fall. Summer stretches out until December and then coasts into a gray fog the rest of the year. The weather is perfect. It’s no wonder we’re overcrowded, each stifling hot body elbowing for space.
“Can you smell the ocean?” She takes a deep breath and holds it as if it has the power to get her high. “I can’t get enough of it. I don’t think I’ll ever go back home to Oak Valley. This is it for me.” She curls into the crook of my arm.
“I don’t want you to go home either.” I land her in front of me as I lean against the teak table I’ve left to turn silver in the elements. “It’s nice like this. I’m sorry I’ve been such a magnificent asshole.”
“Magnificent? Wow.” The whites of her eyes grow as she laughs. “You’re even full of yourself when you’re trying to be humble.” She pulls me in by the collar. “But that’s what I like about you.” Her lips tremble. “In fact, I’ve never met anyone like you.” The light from the quarter moon gets caught in her eyes, revealing glossy shards forming. “I have a confession.”
“You’re not really a redhead?”
She clicks her tongue. “That’s right, and I’m so committed to the lie, I took peroxide to my love landing.”
“Love landing?” I mouth, amused. Macy always has the power to amuse me.
She shakes her head, burying her face in my chest for a moment. “In a way, I feel like I’ve been the most real me I can be around you. And, in a way, I feel like I’m a fraud. I’m not like this at home. I’m reserved, quiet as a mouse, shy—pensive. God, I hate that word.”
She grows still, waiting for me to respond.
“It’s okay. I like the real you. I like when you’re quiet, too, so feel free to be whomever you wish at the moment, because I know whomever she is, she’s perfect.”
“Oh, come on.” She gives my ribs a quick pinch, and I flinch. “Say it—but I’m a Cannon.”
“I don’t care about that.”
“What?” She checks my head for a fever. “You must really be desperate to get laid—and don’t worry, my friend, you are.” Macy runs her finger down my nose, to my lips, tracing them before bumping over them as if begging to be let in.
“I mean it. I don’t give a shit about that anymore. The more I’ve had the chance to know you, the more the notion seems ridiculous. You’re a person. You’re you. And I care about who you are just as much as I can care about anyone.”
Her mouth opens, and she takes in a quick breath as if I’ve just unveiled some long-held secret to the universe.
“It’s not rocket science, Sin. I’d be a fool not to care about you.”
“Is this some advanced lesson on romance?” She wi
nces, looking away as she says it as if the answer might be too much to bear.
A laugh drums out of me. “No, I promise this is the real deal. I’ve got your back, Mace. You’re my girl. I’m not dragging club whores into my bed. Not as long as you’ll stay in it.”
“Lincoln.” She wraps her arms up over my neck so tight my head demands to snap off. Her lips find mine as she tugs and pushes off my belt, toys with my pants, and begins tugging them down. “I think I owe you something.” She bites down on her lips, forming a pocket full of blood before dropping to her knees.
A part of me wants to give her an out, tell her she doesn’t have to do this, that we can go inside. I’m sure a few of the neighbors on the hillside can make out what’s happening if they really wanted to—if they were in a telescopic mood, but that intense pressure building in my dick has managed to paralyze me from speaking.
“I’ve never done this before, so if I’m embarrassing myself, I want to know.” She pulls me out of my boxers, and I take in a sharp breath as the iced night air touches down over my skin. Macy kisses me up and down, slowly, rhythmically, like she’s playing the pan flute. She’s so damn cute I want to give a morbid chuckle. Her mouth opens as she takes in the tip. Her cheeks pucker as she begins sucking me down hard, aggressively as if I were a congested straw she needed to clear out.
A dull moan works its way up my throat as I wait for her to take off. Any minute now I’m expecting her to ride that beautiful mouth over me. I’ll be done in three seconds flat. But Sin doesn’t move, she remains staunch, sucking hard as if her life and mine depend on it.
I try to push her head down so she’ll get the hint, but it only inspires her to suck harder, the tension in her is resistant to my easy nudging. I try to move in and out on my own, but she’s gripped my legs to the bone with thunderous strength as she continues to try to suck my mortal soul through my dick like a vacuum. In a last-ditch effort to help her see the oral light, I knot my fingers in her hair and try to catapult her up and down like a puppet, but she pulls back and bats me away.