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I might pout about it on the outside from time to time, but I really do prefer it this way. We’ve gone out and enjoyed each other, a few drinks and even some dancing. All without worrying about putting on some mating dance.
It’s been kind of liberating.
Shockingly, Lincoln didn’t call me to tell me Willow wasn’t going to be allowed to go out to Aces with me again. I would have told him to shove it if he did. Willow’s a grown woman and should be able to have a good time.
Instead, he called me to see if I could go with him to meet with a jeweler because he’s going to propose. How could I say no to that?
I did ask him, “Why aren’t you asking Paisley?”
He chuckled, “Because she’s too sweet. She would cave and tell Willow all about it even if she wasn’t asked about any plans she may or may not know about me. She’s a house of cards just waiting for a stiff wind.”
I barely kept my laughter inside as I sassed him, “You think I won’t run and tell her?”
“Naw,” I could hear the amusement in his voice, “you wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise for your best friend. You’re loyal as hell Coral and I’m glad it extends to me.”
I sighed, “You’re lucky it does because I’m already about to burst just knowing what you’re planning.”
“So, you’ll come with me?” Lincoln is a big dude, one who would be scary in the right circumstance, so to hear a hint of vulnerability in his voice meant there was no way I was going to tell him no.
Which is how I find myself parked in front of a house with my face scrunched up in confusion. I turn toward Lincoln, “I thought we were going to see someone about a ring? This is not a jewelry store.”
“I got this guy’s name from Beckett and some of the other guys in the family. He’s made quite a few rings for the wives.” He glances up at the house and even though he’s saying the right words, he does look a little nervous. I’m not sure if it’s because of the situation we’re in or if it’s because he’s planning on asking Willow to marry him. “I had to go through a temp agency to get an appointment with him.”
I scrunch up my face, “A temp agency? One for a jeweler?”
I’m sure I sound ditzy as hell. It’s not the first time that’s happened and it won’t be the last. Even though it’s a total misnomer and hair color has nothing to do with intelligence, I’ve had a lot of people treat me like an airhead just because of my golden hair. Those who assume such things about me are my favorite to take down a peg or two.
“Yeah, it’s called the Pink Collar Temp Agency.” He shrugs. “I guess it’s for men who have jobs that most would assume a woman has.”
After both of us climbed out of his truck and were heading toward the door, I pressed a little. “That sounds cool and all, but his house?”
“He’s not a serial killer if that’s what you’re worried about,” he deadpans.
I shriek and smack his arm lightly and I still think it does more damage to me than him. “Well, I wasn’t until you said that.”
As we chuckle together, I can’t help but wonder what will happen if we are in danger. I’ve always been lithe and graceful, but would Lincoln fare so well if something went down? He would have brawn on his side though and training.
I think he’d protect me if this guy turns out to be a serial killer. Mostly because Willow would never let him live it down if he didn’t. Besties. That has to count for something.
We go around to a side door, and I swear I hear the opening swells of a horror movie score. I should punch Lincoln for even putting such notions in my head. I’d only hurt myself though. The man is pretty damn solid.
Perfect for my girl.
My emotions are a little all over the place. I’m so damn happy for my best friend. I know she’s in love with Lincoln. She’s going to be thrilled with being his wife.
Then there is the scaredy cat side of me telling me to run from this stranger’s door. I barely stop myself from running when Lincoln knocks on the door. Has he not seen a horror movie?
I cower behind him slightly and his bark of laughter almost puts me at ease. “I promise, he really isn’t a serial killer. Beckett and the guys would not have recommended him if he was. Not to family.”
My heart rate slows slightly, and my shoulders relax a fraction. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I breathe out the words, but don’t come out from hiding completely.
When the door swings open, I peek around Lincoln and am met with the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. He’s tall, but not as tall as Lincoln. He’s muscular, but not built like a linebacker. His eyes are a soulful brown and his hair is short on the sides and longer on top. It would be perfect for me to run my fingers through.
If I was going to do such a thing. Which I’m not.
Because I can’t. Not when I have this resolution to be focused and to make good choices.
This guy doesn’t exactly scream smart choice.
