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Maggie’s phone chirped from her pocket, and she glanced down as she slipped it out. “Oh, this is something I have to take. I’ll be in my office. You know where to find me if you need anything.”
Seconds later, she was gone, and I stood there holding my coffee, staring at Lincoln.
He didn’t move yet, his gaze coasting over my face as if searching for something. “Last night was incredible,” he said.
My eyes went wide and heat blazed straight into my cheeks. “Uh-huh.”
“Are we pretending it didn’t happen?” he asked.
“Around your mother? Yes!” I shout-whispered, just as another set of footsteps came walking toward the kitchen. I glared at him. “Shut up.”
Lincoln chuckled, and I knew I was going to have to find a way to deal with this mess I had created. “Any more texts?” he asked, just as Asher came walking in.
“No!” I hissed.
Chapter Seventeen
Lincoln
Absolutely no self-control
It was all I could do not to step closer to Chloe, cup her cheeks, and give her a kiss. The urge was fierce, but Asher was there, unwittingly serving as our chaperone. When he saw me, he waggled his brows. “Good morning.” His gaze flicked to Chloe, whose cheeks were still so pretty and pink.
“Hi!” she chirped.
He angled toward the coffee pot, his back to us as he stood by the counter, mere feet away from where she sat and came all over my cock last night. I caught her gaze and she mouthed, “Stop it.”
I winked. A corner of my mind and heart knew this was crazy. I wanted Chloe, so fucking much. It was more than even I was prepared to face, but it was too good to ignore. Last night had only proven that point.
“So what’s on the schedule today?” Asher tossed over his shoulder as he emptied the last of the coffee.
Chloe spun around. “I’ll make more coffee.” Her voice was a little too bright, and I was enjoying her nervousness a little too much. Not because I wanted her to actually feel nervous, but because it confirmed that maybe I affected her as powerfully as she affected me.
“Snowshoeing,” I said.
Asher groaned. “Seriously?”
“Seriously, dude. What’s wrong with snowshoeing?”
“I like skiing better,” he pointed out.
He turned, taking a swallow of his coffee. “Fucking delicious. Did you make this?” He glanced toward Chloe.
“No, your mom did.”
“Ah, I guess I’ll have to thank my mom.”
“But your coffee is always just as good,” he hurried to add.
I caught the curve of Chloe’s smile as she glanced toward him. “I appreciate that, Asher, but you can like your mom’s coffee best.”
Just then, Grady came walking in. “Snowshoeing?” He rolled his eyes and stopped beside Asher, eyeing the empty coffee pot. “Oh, I gotta wait?”
“You do,” Asher said. “And I’m not giving you mine.”
“What’s wrong with snowshoeing?” I commented.
“I prefer skiing,” Grady said.
