Running my fingers down, I drag my pointer finger across his lower lip. He hasn’t realized I’ve never asked if he’ll always be mine, because I know I’d give him up in a heartbeat if it was in his best interest. I hope he never questions it.
“I love you, Maeve.”
I swallow hard. I grin through the emotional tears I feel welling. “Ditto.”
“Forever?” he asks, questions in his eyes.
A tiny gasp escapes my lips. He sees it. It’s not a lie. “Yes.” But I don’t know if potentially loving him from afar counts in his mind.
Chapter 8
Maeve
Lincoln is on his knees as he lights the fire in the living room of the cozy cabin. I thought we’d get stuck on the winding roads on the way here, but we made it just as the snow started really coming down. The first thing I did was remove the dress while Lincoln secured the house. Something he assured me he does anytime he enters a place he isn’t familiar with, and not because he’s worried someone is going to press their lips on glass somewhere.
“That sure is a good look on you,” I say, watching the tuxedo jacket bunch across his shoulders. “I’m afraid I’m a little underdressed for the occasion.”
He grins over his shoulder. I’m wearing a sweatsuit. Not the cute, flattering kind, either. The kind you wear when you’re on your period and don’t plan on leaving your bed all day. “I’ll have you even more underdressed in no time.” He winks and turns back to stoke the flames. The irony is that by watching him mess with the fire in a tux, he’s stoking my fire, too.
I sit on a thick, furry throw that’s adjacent to the fireplace. It’s white and luxurious. “This place is beautiful. How did you find it?” I ask.
“It’s Macho’s place. He mentioned it when we were at the ranch, and well, I called in a favor. Luckily, no one else was using it this weekend.”
It really is stunning, with that mountain charm you expect from a cabin high up in the Rocky Mountains. It’s also kind of far away from civilization. A fact that used to go in the positive column for me, but now makes me kind of nervous. I clear my throat and tuck my feet underneath me as I get more comfortable. “What exactly did Rena say?” I have to know more. It’s niggling in the back of my mind. He talked to her and didn’t tell me straight away. That’s kind of odd, but she’s screwed him over so many times, he probably wasn’t sure what to make of the conversation. Right?
“It was a letter,” Lincoln returns, sitting back on his butt and wiping his hands together to get some of the soot off. Cautiously, he meets my gaze. There’s a sadness in his eyes that only appears when he’s thinking about Rena, and I have to admit it cuts. “She wrote me and apologized. For almost killing me. And for Turner seeing fucking everything. I mean, she said a lot of things, but the most important part is that she intends to leave us alone.” Rena wants him to be happy. The lump in my throat slides down to my stomach and hardens.
“That’s… that’s… good,” I choke out.
Sighing, he looks down between his legs. “Nothing about that woman is good, but I trust that she meant what she said in the letter and she’s backing off. So, in those terms, yes, it’s good.” He pauses a few beats and his dark eyes meet mine. “Do you trust me?”
“Yeah.” My voice warbles. “If you believe her, I do too.”
Lincoln moves to sit next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “This is good news.”
“But what about the next time she’s high? The next time she thinks of you and gets angry?”When she gets word about the deal I made with Rufio, I think.What will she do then?
He drops a kiss on my head. “Let’s talk about this more. Tell me what’s really on your mind,” Lincoln prompts. It should be easy to shareeverythingwith him, but this has to do with Turner too, and I can’t risk bringing Lincoln into this when it’s unsafe.
I shift in his arms until I can glimpse his face. “How beautiful you look in a tux.”
He hits me with a sexy grin. “Oh, so it’s like that then?”
“What else should it be like?” I sass back, trying to be as sassy as possible given my current wardrobe.
He clears his throat. “I thought we could talk about us.”
My heart races. “What about us?”
“You know how I feel about you.” Lincoln shifts, scooting closer and angling me in his arms. “Wanted to make sure we were on the same page as far as… forever.”
I turn to look at him. “Forever is eerily similar to that one word you don’t believe in. I think it rhymes with Thomas?”
His throat works as he swallows. “Promise? Yeah, it does, isn’t it?”
“Getting shot puts things into perspective as I’m sure you know, and I don’t want to play around anymore.”
“Did we ever really play around though? It’s felt real since the second we met.”