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I smiled at my daughter. She was so helpful and sweet. “You can put the jam and yogurt on the table.” I took the container of yogurt and jar of jam out of the fridge and handed both to her. “Here you go.”
She grinned up at me before going back into the dining room.
“Bacon and sausage are done,” Lincoln announced.
“Mom, why don’t you go sit down at the table? Everything’s almost ready.”
“Are you sure you don’t need my help with something?”
I shook my head with a chuckle. “We got this, Mom. You go sit down and relax.”
My mom frowned but went into the dining room as I’d asked. Piper came back in as I was putting the biscuits in a basket.
“Wanna take this out there, sweetheart?” Lincoln asked, holding out a platter filled with the bacon and sausage.
She gripped the large plate with both hands and carried it to the table. I followed her with the biscuits as Lincoln finished up the French toast.
Piper set the meat on the table, and our eyes met. “You can go ahead and sit down now. Thank you for helping.”
My mom sat down next to Piper as I made sure everything was in its place. “Oh, I almost forgot the orange juice. Piper and I made it this morning with some oranges from Lincoln’s orchard.”
I went back into the kitchen to get the orange juice from the refrigerator. As I made my way back toward the dining room, Lincoln leaned back in my path, puckering his lips for a kiss.
I couldn’t help but smile, unable to deny him. I pressed my lips to his and swatted his fine ass as I passed by him. He gaped at me, and I gave him a wicked grin as I went back into the dining room.
A couple of minutes later, Lincoln brought in the plate of French toast and set it in the center of the table. “Brunch is served.”
He sat at the head of the table next to Piper, and I sat across the table from her on his other side. We said grace, then everyone took turns serving themselves from the various bowls and plates.
“Everything is delicious,” my mother commented after finishing her French toast.
I glanced over at Lincoln and smiled. “Lincoln did most of the work. Piper and I handled the smaller stuff like cutting the fruit, baking the biscuits, and squeezing the orange juice, but Lincoln took care of the main dishes.”
Lincoln grinned widely. “It was nothing. I’d do anything to make my girls happy.”
My cheeks heated, his words melting another wall around my heart. He and Piper were slowing breaking through the ice fortress I’d erected around my heart over the past ten years.
As we chatted and laughed, I watched my mother. I’d never seen her so happy, even before the adoption fiasco. She looked free and at ease, not on edge like she normally was around my father.
My forehead creased as I thought about him. Because of him, I’d missed out on so much with my daughter. In the short time I’d spent with her, I’d wanted nothing but her happiness, which most parents wanted for their child. So why had my father robbed me of mine?
Trying to make sense of the conflicting emotions I associated with my father made my head hurt. Lincoln said something that made my mom and Piper laugh, and I forced myself to focus on the happy present rather than my painful past. There was nothing I could do to change it.
After brunch, Piper showed her grandmother her room, and Lincoln and I cleaned up the dishes. Once we finished, I peeked in Piper’s room to see what she and my mom were up to.
They were playing with Piper’s dollhouse. Lincoln and I had bought her a dollhouse, along with a set of dolls, a horse that looked like Buttercup, a barn, and a stable. Piper had it all set up and was brushing the play-Buttercup’s tail. “This looks just like the Buttercup at Mr. Lincoln’s farm.”
“Does it?” my mother asked, totally enthralled by her granddaughter. The love in her eyes was evident as they continued to talk and play with the doll set.
Lincoln came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. He pressed a kiss to my cheek, filling me with warmth. I was so content and happy at that moment, I almost forgot about the inevitable choice I had to make.
Stay or go?
Love and risk being shattered again, or leave and protect my damaged heart? The latter also meant going back to an unfulfilling life without the sound of my daughter’s laughter or the feel of Lincoln’s lips on mine.
Although the choice seemed simple, it was the furthest thing from it.
LINCOLN
