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“Yeah? What do you want to see me in?”
“Something that hugs your curves and shows some skin. Without showing too much skin that’s for my eyes only,” he adds with his brows pulling down.
I smile. “You like leaving something to the imagination, huh?”
“Yeah, makes me want to tear it off you like a candy wrapper. But I like that everyone else has to keep guessing, too, and only I know.”
The jealous look he gives daggers me. Three cheers for scary-hot men.
“Possessive much?” I joke.
“Not usually.”
He doesn’t elaborate until I urge, “Why now?”
“Got cursed by a girl with a raven tattoo,” he says with a comical shrug.
God help me, I step closer and kiss him again.
When I try to pull away, he places his hands behind my head and keeps me there.
“See? This is why we should try. If we’re faking an engagement, we can do this to our heart’s content and no one will think twice.”
I hate that his madness has a certain logic that may make it worth a shot.
“But Lincoln, if I have to be in it before I can decide, then I can’t really think about it, can I?”
“Not if you plan on talking yourself out of it,” he throws back.
“What if I don’t want to fake an engagement with my boss who doesn’t know how serious we are?”
“Do you know how serious we are?” His stare hardens.
For a second, I hesitate.
“Um, how can I? I never thought this was even possible. Aside from not being anywhere near your league—”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” he cuts in.
“You know what I meant. The only man who ever showed any interest in me before is a loser starving musician who won’t stop hounding me. It’s safe to say I’m out of the league of someone who’s worth—whatever Scrooge McDuck numbers are in your portfolio. Not to mention a guy who’s the talk of the Seattle paparazzi.”
“That boy was a worm, and if men don’t approach you, it’s because you’re intimidating.” He thumps his chest lightly. “What if you’ve met the man who isn’t afraid?”
It’s freaky how well he has me pinned down.
“How intimidating can I be?”
“You’re beautiful and feisty and hurt. That’s a lethal combination. Nobody wants to be shot on sight trying to pick you up. Men—no, little boys—are scared to approach you.”
Somehow, that makes me smile.
“You’re scared right now. Don’t be,” he whispers gently, sweeping me into his arms.
But I step back, stunned at how well he reads me now. “You know my history. I don’t know, a fake engagement, even one where the people closest to us know it’s just a ruse...it’s a lot.”
“It’s a lot for me, too,” he says with a heavy look. “You’re not alone in the broken hearts club. I was engaged once.”
I do a double take as his eyes focus on me.
“Her name was Regina. She danced ballet, everybody loved her, and I put a ring on her under the radar so we could avoid the press. She was also a pathological liar.”
My heartbeat quickens. I hate this Regina already.
Especially when I see subtle lines deepening across his face, hinting at just how much damage she did.
“I came home early to surprise her with tickets to Broadway and an evening flight to New York one day,” he says, anger curdling his voice. “I found them together. In our bed. She was draped over him like a fucking sheet, naked as the day she was born.”
I gasp, a quivering hand coming to my mouth.
He must realize I’m about to fall over because he grabs me, holds me so gently, and touches his forehead to mine.
“That’s awful, Linc. My God. It’s almost worse than what happened when Jay left me,” I whimper, my heart aching for him even if deep down, a selfish part of me is glad it didn’t work out with this cheating bitch.
“Don’t, Dakota. There’s no need to compare,” he says gently, his eyes glowing in the morning light as he peels back to look at me. “Hurt isn’t a contest, sweetheart. It’s not about better or worse. We all walk away with battle scars and bad memories. It only matters whether or not we let that shit rule us. It only matters if we let yesterday ruin tomorrow.”
I’m almost crying now.
I never imagined he had it in him to be so deep, to peel back my layers, to find my core, my soul, my truest heart. But that’s where he is now.
That’s where he’s always been destined to wind up, now that I know Lincoln Burns shared my uniquely rotten agony the whole freaking time.
“Can...can I ask you something?” I whisper.
“Hell yes.” He strokes my hair.
“Why weren’t you afraid of me, Lincoln?”
He chuckles. “Like you don’t know?”
“That stupid poem?” I’m blushing.
“No. That stupid cinnamon roll. The first day we met,” he growls. “Dakota, I wouldn’t have been able to stay away from you forever if we kept butting heads. This would’ve happened faster if I wasn’t your boss, believe me.”
