Swing (Landry Family #2)(17)

“I don’t. I love . . .” He leans forward, his eyes wide, watching for my reaction. As I pull slightly away, whispers, “I love ice cream. Wanna go get some?”

My laughter mixes with his, but when his shoulder bumps mine, I can barely breathe. Lincoln moves closer to me in one easy, graceful move.

“Is that a yes?” he asks.

“No. I should be heading home,” I say, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I hope you get done whatever you need to with the wallet you just had to have back tonight.”

His shrugs, pressing his lips together in a mischievous look. “I was hoping for dinner with a slightly irritating lady I met on the wrong floor.”

“Slightly irritating? That’s how you would describe her?” I ask, raising a brow.

“All right,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. “She was actually more of a moderate irritator.” He flashes me a soft smile, one that is without any of the teasing or jokes. “I’d really like to have dinner with you sometime.”

The water laps the shore in front of us. I close my eyes and breathe in the clean air mixed with Lincoln’s cologne and feel my shoulders give up some of the stress they’ve been holding.

“You were great with the kids today,” I tell him. When I look over my shoulder, he’s watching me closely. “Rocky loved hanging out with you today. You were so patient with him.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Yeah, well, it’s not the worst way to spend an afternoon.” It’s him now that’s looking across the water, his thoughts going somewhere else. “Kids are so genuine. He wanted some of my time and reminded me to get him a poster,” he laughs. “But that’s it. They don’t want the rest of the shit people usually do.”

“I can’t imagine.”

My heart hurts a little for him, but I don’t know why. The look on his face is somber, thoughtful, and I’m sure whatever he’s thinking isn’t the happiest of thoughts. It’s my first reaction to reach for him and hug him like I would one of the kids or Macie or Pepper, but I don’t.

“It’s a part of the life,” he sighs. “I’m lucky to play baseball. I know that. But there are parts of it that sometimes feel . . .”

“Insincere?” I offer.

He looks at me, his head bent to the side. “Yeah,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

Before he can start asking questions, I throw it back to him. “You were going to the therapy floor the other day. Are you okay?”

“Maybe. My shoulder is pretty fucked up. I’m doing everything I can to get it healed up so I can be back out there this spring.”

“I hope that works out for you.”

“Me too.” He laces his fingers together and rests them on his knees. “What about you, Dani? What are you working towards?”

“In what way?” I ask, gulping.

“In any way. What are your goals? What do you want to accomplish in your life?”

Leaning away from him, I try to wrap my head around that question. I want to accomplish so much. I want to do so many things, but I don’t know how to verbalize them.

When I’m sure he’s not going to talk until I answer, I take a deep breath. “Really, Lincoln? I just want to be happy.”

“You aren’t happy now?”

“Yes and no, I guess,” I say, laughing nervously. “I’m doing what I love. I love working with kids and making a difference somehow. But I want more, you know? I want a family someday. I want stability I’ve never really had. That’s important to me.”

His lips press together as he takes that in. His gaze pulls away from mine and lands over the water somewhere again.

We sit in silence for a long time, the birds calling to each other and an occasional fish jumping out of the water. I get so lost in the peacefulness of it that I don’t notice Lincoln nudge closer to me.

“You chilly?” he asks.

Looking at my arms across my chest, I realize I’m shivering. “I guess so,” I laugh.

With a cautious movement, he wraps an arm around my shoulders. At the contact, my breath catches in my throat. He’s so warm, so hard, that I’ve never felt so wrapped up and safe in my entire life.

“Have you always wanted those things?” he asks finally, the gravel in his tone singing through me. “Or did they change?”

“I think I’ve always wanted them. I’ve wanted to do different things with my life, not always the job I have, but I think that’s a normal part of life. Wanting new things, evolving.”

He nods. “Maybe so.”

The sun starts to drop behind the trees and a chilly blast of air drifts across the water. “I better get going,” I tell him. “I hate driving in the dark.”

“Do you have to go far?”

“Not really.”

His fingers press lightly into my arm before he unwinds his arm from around me. Taking my hand, he helps me off the picnic table. I expect him to let go as we walk to the car, but he doesn’t. My palm fits so snugly inside his, the coarseness of his skin rough against mine. We don’t speak until we get to the parking lot.

“Thank you for coming out here,” he says, opening the door for me.

“It’s really no big deal.”