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“I’m going to Sam’s for dinner tomorrow night,” he said. “Please come with me.”
“I told you, they invited you, not me.”
He held out his phone to show her the effusive text from Brooke inviting Grace to join them.
Grace pinched his arm. “Did you ask her to invite me?”
“I told her you and I are having hot and heavy sex. She decided that was enough reason to invite you over for lasagna.” He grinned at the dawning horror in her eyes. “Kidding. I did tell her we’re seeing each other, which is not something I felt the need to keep secret. Will you please come with me?”
“All right, but you owe me.” She glanced at the clock. “I should visit my father tonight. I haven’t seen him all week. I also need to pick up some groceries for him and run a couple of errands. He’s out of dish detergent.”
Lincoln set a stack of papers in his briefcase. “Why doesn’t he do his own shopping?”
“I don’t mind doing it.” Grace clicked a few keys on the computer and turned it off. “Besides, if I get his groceries, at least I know his kitchen is stocked with good food rather than potato chips and Twinkies.”
He began erasing some notes on the whiteboard. “I didn’t have the greatest relationship with my father, but I did admire his work ethic. He was pretty sick for a few months before he died, but kept working as much as he could. When he couldn’t make it to the office, he worked from home. He had a nurse who helped with medications, but he insisted on doing everything else on his own. Showering, dressing, shaving. Even when he was close to the end, he got dressed every day and did what he could. Said he felt worse if he wasn’t doing something.”
Grace snapped her book bag closed. “Good for him.”
“I know you and your father have gone through a lot in the past couple of years and that you’re worried about him.” He set the eraser down and faced her. “But he might feel better about doing more for himself. Being in charge of his own life.”
He knew he’d overstepped his bounds the instant Grace’s eyes frosted over.
“I appreciate your opinion, Lincoln.” She slipped her bag over her shoulder and picked up her car keys. “But since hisbeing in chargeinvolves beer and burgers, it’s pretty clear he needs a bit of babysitting.”
“I just think—”
She held up a hand. “I know what you think. And honestly, it’s none of your business. I’m enjoying what you and I have right now, but I don’t want your advice on what I should or shouldn’t do for my father.”
Lincoln nodded shortly. “Understood.”
Grace approached him, her expression softening. She took his hands and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “I’m grateful for your concern, really. But you’re right…Dad and I have been through a lot, and I want to keep him around for as long as possible. So yes, I get a little uptight about his health, but he needs to adjust to a new lifestyle.”
Lincoln swallowed the remark that Ray wasn’t the kind of guy who’d ever adjust to a lifestyle that included “babysitting.”
“Okay.” He stroked his hand over her hair. “While you’re with him, I’ll go for a run, then head back to the motel.”
“Why don’t you just go back to my place?” She twisted a key off her keyring and handed it to him. “I’ll be back around nine, but I’ll text first to make sure you’re there. You can keep the key for now since I have a spare.”
He took the key. His heart was racing in a disproportionately strong reaction to what seemed like a casual gesture of convenience. To Grace, anyway. To Lincoln, having possession of her house key felt momentous in ways he didn’t even fully understand.
As he drove to her little cottage that was starting to feel like home, he was forced to admit that he had it bad for Grace Berry.
Or really damned good. He just had no idea what he was going to do about it.
