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It takes a few seconds for his whispered words to register. “What?” My head flicks around. Linc stills and leans forward, clenching his hands together. His jaw ticks and he looks like he’s fighting an internal battle.
“I’m Lucy Landon.”
I try to contain my mouthful of laughter but end up snorting. “You’re Lucy Landon?”
Linc shakes his head, mumbling something under his breath that sounds a lot likeI knew this would happen.
I sober, realizing he’s deadly serious. I slowly repeat my question.
“Yep. I guess it’s pretty hard to believe, right?” He glances over his shoulder, defeat etched on his features. “Bet you weren’t expecting a part-time construction worker to be Lucy Landon. Sorry to shatter the illusion that she’s some put-together, drop-dead gorgeous thirty-year-old woman who sips margaritas by an infinity pool while penning another love story.” He holds out his hands, callused by years of physical labor. Hands that have tangled in my hair. Touched my skin. The same hands that have also tapped out thousands and thousands of best-selling words.
Then, as though the clouds have parted, I see the all the signs with clarity. The books. The laptop. The post-its. The email with Lucy Landon in the address. The signed book he just gifted me.
“Wow,” I say, trying to process this earth-shattering news.
“Disappointing, huh?” Linc gives a self-deprecating laugh.
“What? No! Why would you even think that?”
“Because…” He huffs out a breath. “I don’t exactly fit the stereotype. I’m single. Skilled in construction. Oh, and in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a man.”
Oh, I’ve noticed all right. “And the problem is?”
One of Linc’s eyebrows disappears beneath the tousled hair that’s flopped over his forehead. “Penny… “
“Linc,” I parrot back. “I don’t see an issue. Women will swoon, knowing that their favorite author is a man. And a very good-looking one at that.” I nudge him as a grin spreads across my face. I’m barely holding it together. I’m swooning, knowing that Linc and Lucy Landon are one and the same. My gaze drifts over him. He’s all brooding, broad-shouldered, pure masculinity. My inner fan-girl is jumping up and down with excitement. I can’t believe my favorite author is sitting right beside me. And although it would have been the cherry on top of Clarissa’s story if she was Lucy, I think this is so much better.
Linc shakes his head. “And this is why I hide behind a name. Because you’re looking at me like I’m a weirdo.”
“Not a weirdo. Just…” It’s just a lot to process. There are so many emotions I’m feeling right now. I’m excited. Surprised. But definitely not disappointed. It’s just not what I expected at all. Part of me understands Linc’s desire to keep his identity quiet. But the other part of me, the reporter part, itches to shout it from the rooftops. “Do you think you’ll ever reveal yourself?”
Another sigh. This time with an added shrug. “I honestly don’t know. I live in fear of the day that people find out and start trolling me. I’m worried that they’ll be disappointed or something. That being a male will take the shine off who Lucy is in their minds.”
“Linc.” I place a hand on his knee. The warmth from his skin permeates through his denims and skitters up my arm. It’s the first time we’ve touched since our disagreement, and I want to press closer to feel all of him. “People may have their opinions, but if you’re truly doing what you love, it won’t matter. Don’t let other people’s perceptions steal the joy from your life.” I should really listen to my own advice, because now that I’ve discovered his truth, there’s that issue of Tripp lingering over us.
He pulls back and looks at me with a wry grin. “When did you get so wise?”
“Um…” My hand slips from his knee as dread squeezes my throat. I thread my fingers together on my lap. I wouldn’t call it wise, per se. Just life lessons learned from being burned.
As much as I want to crawl into a hole and wait for him to leave, I owe it to him for being honest with me. “Call it life experience,” I say flatly. “When you accused me of destroying a family, you were right.”
Surprise flitters across his face, followed by a frown. A mask of patient expectation completes the facial expression trilogy.
This is my moment of reckoning. Will he leave, or will he stay? I take a few steady breaths. Swat away a pesky mosquito. Briefly close my eyes. And begin.
I tell him everything about my relationship with Tripp. How he pursued me. Made me feel special by showering me with gifts and words of adoration. Our weekend getaways. Then how it all came crashing down in a steaming pile of humiliation and soul-destroying guilt.
“He was married.” Those words still make me cringe. “Which makes me the other woman.”
“But it also sounds like you weren’t the first to earn that title. This Tripp fellow sounds well-practiced in the art of deception.”
I give a one-shouldered shrug. That might be so, but it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change the fact that I was in a relationship with a married man. It doesn’t change the fact that I hurt a family. I hate that I have those memories. I hate that my infidelity and deceit have permanently stained my life. And I wouldn’t blame Linc if he walks away. He must be so disgusted with my behavior. Why would someone like him want to be with someone like me?
An arm wraps around my shoulder, and Linc pulls me to his chest. With one hand, he gently wipes tears from my cheek that I didn’t realize were there.
“It’s not your fault, Penny. That guy sounds like a real piece of work,” He murmurs, his thumb still rubbing over my skin. “And I’m so sorry for accusing you the way I did.”
“You believed it, though,” I sniff. And I’d be stupid to deny that the way he so easily believed the lie, hurts.
