On the Shore (Cottonwood Cove, #3)(70)

“Sometimes, Lincoln, we aren’t strong enough to find the courage to make things right, but it’s never too late to say I’m sorry. And I’m truly sorry for failing you as a father, as a man, and as a friend. I’m honored to watch you play on TV and to know that a little piece of me lives on in you. My amazing son, I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me and get to know your siblings. They’re really good people, just like their mama and their older brother who they don’t know about.

With love, Keith Knight.”

I set down the paper and looked up. Lincoln’s eyes were wet with emotion, and his hands were fisted on the table. I reached over and wrapped my hand around his, and they relaxed and intertwined with mine.

“That was… not what I expected.” He cleared his throat.

“Yeah. It was very heartfelt, huh?”

“It was,” he said, glancing out the window at the water.

“Do you feel better now that you’ve heard what he had to say?”

He turned back to look at me, and his green eyes were filled with a mixture of empathy and pain, and it took my breath away.

“I don’t honestly know what I feel. I want to say that I don’t care because he wasn’t there for me. But hearing those words, I don’t know, maybe there was more there than I’d thought there was.”

“That’s very fair.”

“I wish he’d owned up before he died so we could have had a chance to meet face-to-face and have this talk. It’s sort of one-sided, where he got to say his piece, and I didn’t. But maybe it’s better that way.”

“Maybe all that was meant to come out of this was your relationship with Romeo and Tia.”

“Yeah. And if I hadn’t met Romeo in this way, I don’t think I would have been open to meeting them on my own. And now Tia is blowing up my phone every day, and I don’t even mind it. So maybe something good really did come out of all of this.”

I moved to my feet and climbed onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Something good did come out of it.”

“Yeah? So, we read the letter. Are you ready to pay up?” he teased, his thumb tracing along my bottom lip.

“I always pay up, Captain.”

Without warning he was on his feet with me in his arms. He carried me to the bathroom and set me on the counter before leaning over and placing a hand on each side of my face. “Thank you for making me read that letter.”

“Thank you for letting me be there with you.”

“Now I’m going to rock your fucking world,” he said against my ear before nipping at my neck.

“I’m counting on that,” I said, as he tugged my tank top over my head.

I kept my arms up as he pulled off my sports bra, as well, and then he dropped to his knees and reached for the band of my running shorts. I pushed up just enough for him to tug them down my legs. My fingers tangled in his hair, and he groaned.

“Goddamn, sweetheart. I love your fucking body so much. I can’t get enough.” And he pushed my legs apart and buried his face there.

My head fell back against the mirror as he licked and sucked my most sensitive area. He wrapped my legs over his shoulders and tugged me forward, giving him better access.

My fingers gripped the countertop as I bucked against him. His tongue slipped inside, and it was more than I could bear. I was already exhausted from our run, and my body surrendered to him.

Panting and gasping.

Tugging at his hair as his thumb found my clit, knowing exactly what I needed.

I nearly came off the white marble as bright lights sparked beneath my eyelids, and my body trembled.

“Lincoln,” I cried out as he moved faster, sending me right into oblivion.

Every muscle, every bone, every inch of my body completely shattered.

He stayed right there, waiting for me to ride out every last bit of pleasure.

I couldn’t speak. My body was spent, and he stood up and shoved his shorts down his strong thighs before tugging his tank top over his head.

His cock sprang free and pointed directly at me, and he chuckled. “He loves you as much as I do.”

“The feeling is mutual,” I whispered.

He stroked my cheek. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just trying to keep up with the GOAT of the NFL on a run and then get my world rocked right here on the counter.” I chuckled.

He studied me before turning on the shower and then scooping me up and carrying me in with him. He set me on my feet, and I reached down to stroke him. He grabbed my wrists and lifted my hands to his lips. “Not right now. That can wait.”

And he spent the next twenty minutes gently washing my body, washing my hair, and kissing my neck. He wrapped me in a towel and dried my hair with the other towel sitting on the counter before wrapping it around his waist.

This man had a way of making me feel like I was the only woman in the world.

And I loved every second of it.

I didn’t want this time to ever end.

We’d been existing in a bubble, and I wasn’t in any hurry to leave it.





twenty-six





Lincoln





Brinkley’s article about that asshole, Breen Lockhart, had gone to print today, so we’d celebrated with a lunch date at Cottonwood Café. Because who didn’t want to be sexually harassed by an inappropriate woman on a Wednesday afternoon?