On the Shore (Cottonwood Cove, #3)(58)

“It’s coming up,” she said. “It’s right after Uncle Hughey and Auntie Lila’s wedding, right, Auntie?”

“Yep. June twenty-third, baby girl. It’s my favorite day of the year.”

“Perfect. We can call this an early birthday gift,” he said as he reached for the door. Then he surprised me by leaning down and whisper-shouting to her. “But don’t you worry. I’ll get you something good for your birthday, too.”

Unbelievable.

“Like I said—you’re a softy.”

“I preferred it when you called me a rude gentleman.” He leaned close to my ear, and his warm breath tickled my neck.

Damn, this man did crazy things to me.

This last week had been a whirlwind. So much for taking it slow. Our passion for one another was as strong as our disagreements were. And we had plenty.

He was bossy as hell, and I didn’t like being told what to do.

Tonight, we were staying at my house. He’d gotten his way the last few nights, but I was putting my foot down.

“Well, looky here. It’s about time you brought the football player over. I’ve heard you’ve been everywhere in town but my place,” Mrs. Runither purred as she moved into Lincoln’s space.

It took everything I had not to laugh as his shoulders stiffened. He held on to Gracie’s hand like she was a security blanket.

“Uh, hello. I’ve just been busy.” Lincoln gave a half nod and took the slightest step backward. But Mrs. Runither didn’t miss a beat. She wasn’t about to let a fine-ass man distance himself without a fight. She moved along with him, and he startled, glancing over at me.

“There’s J.R!” Gracie shouted and asked if she could go say hello, and I told her she could. Lincoln looked very unhappy when she dropped his hand and Mrs. Runither took it in hers and intertwined her fingers with his.

This was a new one for her.

“My, oh my. Look at these hands. I like a man who knows how to handle his balls,” she said, and I nearly lost it because Lincoln’s discomfort was impossible to miss.

He tugged his hand back and shoved them into the pockets of his jeans.

“Tell me, Lincoln Hendrix. Do you like a tiger in the bedroom? Or do you prefer your women to be submissive?”

“Are you really just going to stand there watching?” he hissed at me, and I covered my mouth with both hands because this was just too good.

It wouldn’t even matter if the mac and cheese was horrible at this point.

“Mrs. Runither, I’m not sure how to answer that question, but I can tell you this,” he said, looking like his cocky self all of a sudden. “I prefer not to be asked inappropriate questions when I go out to eat.”

“Oh, he likes to play cat and mouse? You know I love a man who likes to play.” She winked at me. “Come on, y’all. Let’s get you a table so we can feed the football star. Nothing better than a well-fed man. Am I right, Brinkley?”

“I prefer to be well-fed myself; I don’t really care how much the big guy eats.” My voice was all tease.

We stopped to say a quick hello to J.R., then Lincoln scooped up Gracie and carried her to the table with us. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to help her, considering she kept tripping over her long dress, or if he was using her as a shield from the old horndog, Runither.

When the elderly woman stepped away and we’d settled into the booth, Lincoln leaned forward so only I could hear him. “I will pay you back for that. Get ready for a tiger in the bedroom.”

I whipped my head to make sure Gracie wasn’t listening, but she was too busy waving at J.R.

“Promises, promises. You made the woman’s day. It wouldn’t kill you to flirt with her.” I smirked.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, sweetheart. She’s not my type.”

“What’s your types, Links?” Gracie suddenly turned her attention to us.

“I’m looking at it.” He stared at me before leaning down and kissing my niece’s forehead.

The man was full of surprises.





We’d dropped Gracie off at Cage’s house, and he didn’t even give Lincoln any shit for buying her so many things. Instead, he praised the man and thanked him for spoiling his daughter.

When we pulled up in front of my house, I turned to him. “I think I need some fans of my own.”

He chuckled. “What are you talking about?”

“My brother. He’s always grumpy and irritated, but when you’re around, he’s ridiculously cheerful. Thank you so much for spoiling my girl,” I said in my cheesiest voice, mimicking Cage.

“Hey, don’t be jealous that your brother appreciates me and your niece called me her bestie. Serves you right for feeding me to that piranha, Runither. Do you know what happened when I asked you to walk with me to the bathroom and you refused to go with me? Do you?” he said, all loud and boisterous, which made me laugh.

“She followed me. And she was grabbing at my shoulders and reached up and ran those long, creepy nails through my scalp, claiming there was a feather in my hair. I think she drew blood. She really dug her claws in there.” He leaned forward, resting his big head between my breasts.

I couldn’t stop laughing. I ran my fingers through his hair and held my phone up with the flashlight to humor him. “Um. There’s no blood here, buddy. I think you’re going to make it. How’d you get away from her?”