“You sure? I could probably figure it out. In fact, if you ever needed any help looking at this stuff…”
Lincoln raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Sure.”
“Because I might take you up on that,” he said. “I was going to do it myself because I… well, I kinda need someone impartial.”
I knew what that meant. His expression confirmed it.
“You having trouble with someone here?”
“Sort of.”
“The books not adding up, or—”
“Another time,” he said with a sigh. “Right now? It’s getting late, and I should probably get you home.”
“Home…” I repeated blankly. I grinned at him. “Before I turn into a pumpkin?”
Lincoln scooped me back into his arms and kissed me.
“You’re turning into something, that’s for sure.”
Nineteen
HOLLY
It was an interesting Monday. Possibly the most interesting one in Holly history.
I’d returned home the night before walking on air, dancing happily through my little apartment after a jubilant cab ride. My date with Lincoln had been the stuff of legends. He’d wined me, dined me, and all but sixty-nined me, before paying and tipping the taxi driver to get me home safe.
Once there, I charged my phone enough to turn it back on and check my text messages… and that’s where things got complicated.
The first one was from Brody. Attached was the selfie he’d taken of the two of us, cheek to cheek, looking absolutely amazing together. And the message:
Princess —
My Grandmother wants to know where
I ‘found such a beautiful young woman’.
I told her you landed in my lap. :)
Sweet, cute, adorable. Sexy, even. We’d had an amazing time together on Friday, even if by now our date seemed so very far away.
I’d scrolled through three other messages from Jocelyn, and almost even answered one. She’d have to wait, though. The second I texted her back my phone would ring, and I’d be required to answer. Girl code.
The next message was from Donovan, sent the morning after our date:
Well… it’s official: Your (ex)boyfriend
is biggest idiot in the universe!
See you Monday, sexy. And don’t think
for a second I’m going easy on you.
My body went flush with heat. God… I’d loved our time together! Especially the sex. Donovan’s ridiculously-chiseled physique had gone way beyond fulfilling the simple fantasy of screwing my sexy personal trainer. Yet instead of feeling satisfied with that little notch in my bedpost, the memory of him sawing away between my legs only made me want more.