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Beau caught it and dipped it in the ranch dressing.
“He’s a worrier.” She tapped her index finger against her cheek. “That’s not exactly accurate. He . . . feels responsible for everything.”
I didn’t need my best friend to tell me that. On more than one occasion I’d witnessed it for myself.
“He’s been under a lot of stress, right? Getting arrested will do that to a person.” I chomped on a grape tomato. “Trust me, I have firsthand experience.”
She leveled me with a look. “The whole thing is complete garbage. For both of you.”
“I don’t know about Lincoln, but technically I did assault my father.”
“Don’t you dare say that in front of anyone else.” She shook her finger at me.
I shrugged. “What about that I don’t regret it?”
“Leave that out too. Though I don’t regret you did it either.” She tucked a leg up under her. “And Lincoln didn’t commit securities fraud or tax evasion.”
I had a hard time believing he had either. Maybe he wasn’t the most welcoming kind of man. He was more likeback away. But he’d treated Eric and me with more respect than most people ever had. I wouldn’t disregard his behavior toward us no matter what the FBI said.
I had to trust what my eyes had seen instead of what the authorities tried to tell me.
“How is he going to get out of that?”
She pointed at me again. “You’re not getting out of this conversation. Because I was definitely referring to the change in my brother as a result of you.”
Heat flooded me. I would’ve been embarrassed to talk with her about any man, but especially her brother. Surprisingly, she seemed more at ease with it than I was.
“Does it bother you? That we’re . . .” I didn’t know how to finish that sentence. There had been no official declaration of a relationship, but I couldn’t deny thatsomethingwas happening between us. Something beyond friendship. Something that equated to dates in my living room, a commercial kitchen, and a hospital room.
Which wasn’t romantic per se . . . but whatever it was, it was ours. Our normal.
“Not sleeping together. Yes, it bothers me.” She tossed a piece of broccoli and caught it in her mouth.
My face flamed. “Did he tell you that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Nooo. If either of you had had sex in the past . . . oh, five years, you wouldn’t be wound so tight that it’s impossible to get a stick in or out of your ass.”
“Um, Beau. I’m not really into that.” At least it didn’t sound appealing. Was Lincoln?
“Not a dick,” she groaned. “Astick.”
I threw another vegetable at her. She dodged, and it bounced off the kitchen counter.
“Iknowyou said stick.” I put a hand over my face.
She lifted a shoulder and lowered it. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
My eyes bulged. “Have you?”
“That’s neither here nor there.” She hopped off her barstool. “More water?”
“Oh no, no, no.” I grabbed her wrist. “Youcannotsay something like that and just forget it.”
“We’re going to because we’re discussing you and my brother.” She shook her head. “Lincoln. Not Teague.”
“I figured, since Teague is getting married to a friend of mine.” I released her wrist and held out my glass for a refill.
She topped me off and leaned her elbows on the counter across from me. “Lincoln is a good man. He doesn’t know it but he deserves you. You’re just going to have to help him see it when he gets stubborn.”
