Swing (Landry Family #2)(50)

The elevator dings and I glance over my shoulder and stutter-step before stopping. His eyes light up in the way I love, his body looking strong in a fitted black workout shirt and shorts. Lincoln makes no effort to move, to wave, to insinuate in any way that he is happy to see me besides the flicker in his eyes. As the doors close, we exchange a small, almost-smile, and then, before I’m ready, they swing shut.

A whimper slides through my lips, my eyes wetting immediately.

“Stop this,” I hiss to myself and dart to the bathroom. It’s empty. “This was your decision and it was a good one.” I straighten out my rumpled yellow dress. I’d hoped the color would brighten my spirits, but no luck.

I head back to my office, my heels clicking against the tile. “Take the job with Macie. Get out of here and make a fresh start,” I whisper to myself as I watch my feet step in the center of each tile.

I flick the door behind me to my office and nearly yelp. “Lincoln!”

He’s sitting across from my desk, the twinkle in his eye replaced with a look of . . . fear? He forces a swallow as I grab the corner of my desk for support.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I needed to see you.”

“Why?”

“A number of reasons,” he says, a smile ghosting his lips.

“I thought you went down on the elevator,” I whisper, still not sure I’m really seeing him here.

His face lights up as a full-blown smirk drags across it. “I did. Then I came back up.”

My cheeks ache from the smile I’m giving him and I tell myself to stop it before I give him a false idea, but I can’t erase it. There’s no way to turn off the light he ignites in me.

He holds a tube up in the air. “I brought a signed poster for Rocky. Think I could take it to him?”

Some of my hope wavers. “Rocky was released two days ago. His cancer is undetectable.”

The joy on Lincoln’s face hits my heart. This is part of what I love about him. His genuineness. His sweetness. His thoughtfulness.

“I can take it and mail it to him though,” I offer.

“Please.”

I take the tube and our fingers touch. I jerk mine away.

“I have a favor to ask,” he says tentatively.

“The last time you asked a favor, it was a trick.” I sit across from him, grateful for the support.

“It might be a trick this time too,” he laughs. “Can you blame me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m leaving in the morning for Savannah for Thanksgiving.”

“So?”

“Go with me.”

“What?” I squeak. “Landry, are you nuts?”

“Nuts about you.”

I collapse back in my chair with a huff, hoping I sound more irritated than I am. I have to power through, not succumb. Protect myself. “I can’t go with you.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Does it matter?”

I expect an argument, at least a little fight, but get none. He just shrugs his broad, thick shoulders. “Fine.”

My brows pull together, but I keep my features otherwise smooth. He’s watching me too carefully. He’s looking for an opening and I’m not about to give him one.

“Should I bring dinner to your house or should we cook it together at mine?”

“Excuse me?”

“Look,” he says, sliding his hands down the legs of his shorts, “if you don’t want to go to Savannah, I get it. My family can be a little overbearing. So we’ll stay here. We’ll—”

“I’m not having Thanksgiving with you.”

“You have plans I’m unaware of?”

“Maybe.”

“You better fit me in.”

My eyes wet again and he grips the armrests. He’s obviously fighting to keep himself from jumping the desk and grabbing me, but he doesn’t. I’m both thankful and a little disappointed he doesn’t.

“You need to see your family,” I counter. “It’s your thing. You’ve told me stories about football with your brothers and everything.”

“Yeah, they’ll be pissed if I don’t come. But I’m not leaving you.”

“Why do this? I’ve told you this won’t work out between us in the long term. We’re just setting ourselves up for a lot of heartache later.”

“Because,” he says, leaning forward until his elbows rest on my desk, “I care about you. And I know you care about me too. So maybe you are afraid to trust me. I hate it, but I’ll deal. But we’re friends. Hopefully with benefits,” he winks in only the way he can.

My heart nearly explodes as a warmth extends throughout my veins. The twinkle is back in his eyes. Slowly, his hands reach across the desk for mine.

And just as slowly, mine take them and give them a squeeze.

“This is what I was telling you,” I say, our gazes locked together.

“What’s that?”

“You’d be impossible.”

“So you’ll go with me? Or are we staying home?”

I open my mouth and then close it. Then, against the screaming of my brain, I let my heart do the talking. “Let’s go to Savannah.”