揑t抯 spring chicken, Ma,?I correct. 揂nd maybe you should adopt.?
揟hat would make them babies. I said grandbabies,?she tells me with all the seriousness of a judge reading out a life sentence. 揟hat means you need to adopt or get laid.?
I jolt back. Did she really say that?
揗a, my sex life is none of your business,?I snap.
She laughs. 揧ou抮e turning red.?
揥hat? Like hell.?My hands move to my ears where I feel that telltale heat from two little traitors attached to my head.
揝ee? You抮e thirty-two years old and you still can抰 lie to me.?She laughs like she抯 possessed and then stops suddenly, leveling me with a wide-eyed look. 揥aitaminute. I know that look, Lincoln. You did get laid. Was it Dakota??
She claps her hands together.
Yeah, fuck this. I抦 out of here.
Turning my back, I stare at Seattle抯 distant outline across the water, wishing I could teleport back there. I抦 not even pretending to answer her question.
The whole point of agreeing to Anna抯 insanity was also to protect Dakota抯 reputation if anyone ever found out about us. She may be a firecracker, but she抯 as fragile as blown glass. I won抰 have anyone breaking her when she抯 already cracked from that assclown who hurt her.
揑t was her, wasn抰 it??Mother asks quietly.
揥hy would you say that??I turn slightly, looking over my shoulder.
揃ecause. If it wasn抰， you would have just denied it until you were blue in your face. You抮e miffed but you抮e not even putting up a fight棓
揗a. You抮e being ridiculous.?
If there was ever an evil smile, she抯 wearing it now. I try not to wince.
揥ell, now. This might just be easier than I thought!?Her unfriendly smile blossoms into a grin like she抯 already visualizing Dakota with a basketball-sized stomach.
Please. Someone put me out of my misery.
揑 could抳e lived my whole life without hearing that, you know. Save the fireworks, Ma. You抮e not getting grandkids next year. It抯 just not in the cards,?I tell her firmly, scratching the back of my neck.
I feel like there抯 a spider trying to burrow under my skin.
揥hatever you say, dear. Brunch??
揑 already ate this morning.?
She frowns. 揥e抣l call it tea if that makes you feel better. But come sit and talk to me.?
揥e抳e been talking, Ma. Hasn抰 been helpful.?
The stare she hits me with says I don抰 get a choice.
揕ook, what you抮e overlooking is the fact that these cutesy books and movies about fake relationships blossoming into something real are just stories. This is real life. We抮e both professionals and while I can抰 speak for Dakota, dating isn抰 on the agenda. She抯 been burned before and I… You already know.?
Mom stops midstep with a sad look. 揥ho hurt that poor girl, Lincoln? And yes, we know who hurt you.?
揅an we not go there again? We抳e only been through it a thousand times.?I shake my head bitterly. 揗y point is, don抰 get too attached and overprotective with Nevermore桪akota, I mean. It抯 all a farce.?
揑抦 not. I抦 just curious.?She picks up her pace, scuttling around the kitchen while I linger at the breakfast bar.
揑t抯 not my story to tell, Ma. You know I won抰 violate an employee抯 privacy like that and I抦 damned sure not dating her.?I ball my fists on the counter and stretch my arms. 揧ou should be happy your rules are still ironclad.?
揙h, rules, fools.?Again, she hits me with those puppy dog eyes. 揧ou抮e a good man, Lincoln. Sometimes too good for your own well-being and mine.?
A few minutes later, we gather at the table. I help carry a snack tray into the dining room while Mom pours piping hot tea.
We抮e dancing around the greatest betrayal of my life梞y clusterfuck of an engagement梐nd I hate that even years after the carnage, it still has the power to suffocate this room like a goddamned mammoth.
For years, the same song and dance.
Mom pleading for me to let it go while I insist I already have. Then I go right back to my safe life with zero room for love, for sex, for anything.
That begs the question. If we抮e both damaged goods afraid of anything serious and I抳e admitted this isn抰 a romance story, what am I doing with Dakota Poe?
I just know I抦 craving more of last night.
With her, I need it a million times over.
揧ou抮e doing a fine job with the company. I抦 proud of you,?Ma says, setting down half a sandwich. 揃ut I don抰 know where you got the idea that work is everything. We raised you to know better棓
揂nd I抦 here right now with you, in the middle of the workday.?
My eyes fall on the picture hanging behind her. It was their fortieth wedding anniversary. Ma wears a blue sequin dress dancing with a light in her eyes as she stares at my father adoringly. Dad wears a perfectly fitted tux and a smile too big for life on his weathered face.
His arm is snug around her waist. Her head is pressed against his chest.
A dagger goes through my chest.
Growing up, people always talked about how vibrant Mother抯 smile was even as she aged. A few weeks after that picture was taken, I lost my father to a brutal heart attack.
It took about a month to realize Mother抯 gorgeous smile died with him. Her old pure love cast in bright-white teeth was eventually replaced with a new smile, a quieter one where her mouth always stays closed.
It抯 never been the same since.
My mother has a lot of smiles: the kind ones, the wicked kind, the frustrated kind, and the slow, nostalgic kind she wears when she thinks nobody抯 looking.
She just doesn抰 have that smile anymore.
Watching Dad抯 unexpected departure take a piece of her soul was almost as bad as losing him.
She still refers to their fortieth anniversary as her farewell party. Dad died on a charter flight coming back from a business conference. He was gone before the plane even landed for help.
To her, their last anniversary was the closest thing to goodbye.
Even now, I peer at the tired eyes and subtle smile across the table from me.
One more good fucking reason why I抣l never get married.
I don抰 care what they say; it抯 not 'better to have loved and lost.'
Better to be safe from that pain, that agony, that destruction.
Better to spend your life making money and bringing order for thousands of people, with a dab of debauchery thrown in when it all gets dull.
Mom is living proof.
Ditto for Wyatt.
I抦 damn sure not making the same mistakes.
Mom sips loudly from her teacup and sets it down with a heavy look. 揕incoln, dear, I don抰 mean to be morbid, but what happens when I抦 gone someday? Who抯 your family then? You have cousins out east, of course, but they have their own lives.?
揟here抯 Wyatt棓 I stop myself, hating that I have to wonder if he抣l even be around.
揂h, yes. That heartbroken, troubled man who棓
揝aved my life,?I cut her off before she reminds me what a lost cause he is. 揑 owe him my all, Ma. You know that.?
?son, you know how much I love that you care but…just how long will he be around? If he chooses not to help himself, I mean. He lives rough and doesn抰 take care of himself. Who will you have left if I抦 gone and you just can抰 turn Mr. Emory around??
揗y company. My team,?I grind out, hating that her question darkens my whole head.
揌aughty But Nice??
Christ, isn抰 that enough?
I nod and slurp my tea.
揥ell, as your mother, I抦 holding out hope that she-who-won抰-be-named didn抰 ruin you forever. And I choose to believe this little game with you and Dakota might just be the fire under the butt you need.?