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“This is Jamie,” Lincoln says but he doesn’t look very happy.
“Nice to meet you. Welcome,” she says, then looks at Linc. “Good morning, Mr. Silverstone.” She blatantly bats her eyelashes and sticks out her chest a little more.
The office slut. Got it. I hope she knows I’ll claw her eyes out if she keeps flirting with my future husband like that.
He dips his head at her, and we continue the tour until I’ve met everyone, seen the breakroom, and all the CEOs’ offices. Finally, he leads me to an office at the end of the hallway. My name is on a shiny gold plaque on the door with my job title under it. I want to cry I’m so happy.
My sappy thoughts turn to shock when he opens the door. It’s not as big as his office, but it’s still got the floor-to-ceiling windows with a breathtaking view of the mountains and downtown below it.
There’s a big desk with two computer screens on top and a comfortable-looking chair behind it. A coatrack stands next to the door and there’s a whiteboard on one wall and corkboard on the opposite wall. A huge Silver Breweries logo is framed behind like a photo behind my desk. A large map of Colorado is on the wall where the door is.
“This is so beautiful I wanna cry,” I say, looking at Lincoln.
He closes the door and wraps me in a hug. “I’ve worked all week on this office. We were using it as storage but now it’s all yours. I wanted it beautiful for you. I’m glad you approve.”
“I would have taken any ol’ room with a desk. This is just so… extra. I love it so much. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, looking down at me. “And hey, if you want to change anything, be my guest.” He leans down and presses his lips to mine and then brushes some hair from my face. “It’s going to be very hard to keep my hands off you at work. Please use three days to visit the pubs so I’m not tempted to fuck you on this desk all day long.”
I laugh. “Okay, I will.”
***
“Do you want me to put the top down?” Lincoln asks, his finger hovering over a button as we ride in his burnt-orange Mercedes convertible sports car.
“Sure,” I say, fishing my sunglasses and a scrunchie from my purse and scraping my hair into a bun before it starts flying all over the place. I slide the glasses on.
We’re just pulling out of his neighborhood. The gates open as we approach, and soon, we’re on the main road heading for the park.
“How many cars you got, anyway?” I ask, laughing.
“You saw them all. The Bentley I don’t drive, only Lucas does. I have the BMW sports car, this one, and the motorcycle.”
“I wanna ride on the motorcycle,” I say honestly.
“Really? Most women hate them, or I would have taken it today.”
I shrug. “I’m not most women.”
He smiles. “No, you certainly are not.”
I reach over and turn on the radio, flipping it on until I find a rock station. “Livin’ On A Prayer” comes on and I start singing it (badly) at the top of my lungs. Something about the top being down is making me feel free.
Lincoln looks over at me, a smile on his beautiful lips. I even catch him singing along a little bit as he drives.
We arrive at the park, and he puts the top up, gets out, and helps me out. I love how he always opens my door for me. Such a gentleman—not that I would expect anything less from him. He was obviously raised with manners and class, and I’m taking full advantage.
I’m meeting his parents, and his aunt and uncle today. Plus, his cousin and brother are going to find out we’re a couple. I wonder if they already know. I’m nervous but very excited. I sling my small purse across my body and pull the scrunchie out of my hair, shaking it loose so it falls over my shoulders. Then I pat it down to make sure it’s not sticking up. I look down at my green maxi dress and fidget with my bracelet and necklace.
“You look great. Don’t be nervous,” Lincoln says, holding my hand.
“Thank you,” I say. “I am nervous, though. I hope your parents like me.”
“They will love you because I love you,” he says, squeezing my hand.
We arrive at a large area cordoned off for the Silver annual picnic. There are couples and families with small children. There has to be at least a hundred people here. Two huge tables are set up with food, drinks, and desserts, and beer kegs sit next to them.
“You made it!” I look over to see a woman in her fifties rushing up to us.
