On the Shore (Cottonwood Cove, #3)(45)

This was a first.

She stepped back and shook her head. “Why are you messing with my head?”

“Am I?”

“Yes. I just agreed to a one-night stand. Offered for us to get whatever this is out of our systems. And you’re turning me down?” She crossed her arms over her chest, and her face hardened. She was pissed.

“Correct.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you in my bed for one night, Brinkley Reynolds. It won’t be enough for me.” My tongue swiped out to wet my lips, and her eyes moved there.

“I don’t date athletes. I don’t set myself up to get hurt. You get one night, and that’s it. Final offer.” Her gaze locked with mine, letting me know she wasn’t backing down.

But neither the fuck was I.

“No deal.” My dick strained so hard behind my zipper that it was painfully uncomfortable. But I was going to stand my ground.

“Fine. Let’s leave things as they are, then.” She raised a brow.

“All right. Friends?” I held out my hand. I knew I’d wear her down. This pull was too strong with us. I’d gone my entire life never wanting anything real with anyone before now. I wasn’t going to fuck it up by starting out the wrong way. This woman was going to be worth the wait.

“You’re a stubborn ass.” She slapped my hand away and started putting everything back in the refrigerator. She wiped down the counter, and I cleaned up the floor.

Our drive to her house was quiet, and she stared out the window.

When I pulled in front of her house, she turned to face me. “I will send the announcement over to you tonight to look over. We have a few days to make some tweaks if you don’t like the wording. But it’s pretty brief and to the point.”

“Sounds good. And we’re off tomorrow, so no workout.”

“Right.”

“Am I still invited to Sunday dinner, or are you revoking the invitation?”

“Well, seeing as I’m not the one who invited you, I don’t think it would be fair to uninvite you.”

She was so fucking cute when she was mad.

And what was she even mad about?

The fact that I liked her?

A lot?

“Great. I’ll meet you over here, and we can go together.”

“Fine. That sounds like a plan. Good night, friend.” She pushed her door open, and I jumped out of the car.

“Friends don’t walk one another to the door,” she hissed, glancing over her shoulder at me.

I reached for her arm just as she was about to put the key into the door. I turned her around to face me.

“I will always walk you to the door. Stop being a stubborn ass.” I set one hand on each side of her face, caging her in.

“I’m the stubborn ass?” She shook her head and glared at me.

“Yes. You’re pissed because I don’t want to just fuck you for one night when you know you want the same thing that I do. That makes you a stubborn ass.”

“You’re so full of yourself. You can’t stand the fact that I don’t want to date you, can you?”

“No. I can’t,” I said dryly. “Because you’re lying.”

“Oh, really? Why would I lie about that?”

I moved closer, invading her space. My forehead rested against hers. “Because you’re scared. Because the future is unknown. Because I don’t have a great track record in relationships, and from what you’ve told me, neither do you.”

“You’ll tire of me, Lincoln. You’re moving to New York. I live here.”

“You don’t even know where you’re going to be living in a few months when you publish your story.”

“Your story,” she said, raising a brow. “It’s better that we don’t cross the line. Things will get messy.”

“I think things are already messy, sweetheart. But I’ve never been a guy that was afraid of the long game. So, I’ll just have to show you that you’re wrong.” I stepped back and made my way down her path, walking backward as she watched me.

“I’m rarely wrong,” she said, and the corners of her lips turned up the slightest bit.

“We’ll see about that.”

I waited for her to step inside before getting back in my car and driving the short distance to my house.

When I got home, I checked my phone and saw an email from my college coach, Jack Hardin. I’d reached out about Lionel, and he’d gotten back to me. He said they were actually looking for a backup kicker because their first-string kicker had graduated this past year and they were down to one guy. I’d sent him the film that I’d taken of Lionel kicking a few field goals that day out on the field, and he was interested. He also said he knew of a few small programs on the lookout for a kicker, and he’d pass on the word about Lionel. They weren’t huge football programs, but they would allow him to play, and I was hoping they’d offer him something to help pay for his schooling. I sent him Lionel’s contact information and then sent Lionel a text, as well, to let him know that he should be looking out for a call.

It was well past midnight, and I didn’t expect a response at this hour, but the kid was full of surprises.

Lionel



I can’t believe this. I don’t know how to thank you, Lincoln.