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Lexie
“Mindif I have the last chocolate glazed?”
Eric opened the box of donuts and held it out to me. “Hey, there’s two more in here.”
“Now neither of us have to sacrifice.”
I slipped off my shoes and leaned back. We’d found a primo parking space for our last delivery of the day. Cordelle Johnson had just sent a text letting us know she was running late.
Normally, I’d be disappointed because the other half of our workday was only getting started. But today, I relished the moment to relax with a semi-view of Central Park and a donut.
“Milk?” Eric reached in the cooler and pulled out the remainder of our glass bottles from the donut shop.
“You know it.”
He unscrewed the cap and handed me the chilly bottle. I took a bite of donut and swallowed it down with a swig of milk.
“This is the life, bow tie.” It had pretty much always been just us, but for the past eighteen years, it had been the two of us against the world. How I liked it best.
A car slammed on its brakes in the street up ahead. Tires squealed as the vehicle narrowly missed another. Finger salutes and curses flew, but I didn’t care.
Eric threw his donut in the box and shoved open the van door. “Lincoln! Over here!”
I nearly dropped my donut when he jerked his head in our direction. Eric ran toward him, sloshing his milk he’d forgotten to abandon in the process. Some splashed on Lincoln’s dark suit jacket, and I cringed.
Eric animatedly chattered while Lincoln wore that same stone-like expression that appeared permanently etched on his face. Except he laughed. But that was a one-off. An anomaly.
I waited for Lincoln to try to get away from Eric like a lot of people did. Instead, he listened as my brother spoke about who knew what.
And then they were headed toward the van.
Lincoln moved with long strides, yet allowed Eric to set the pace. When a man bumped into Eric, Lincoln had a word with him and the man scurried away after what appeared to be an apology.
And my brother looked at him like everyone else did.
With wonder.
Awe.
Amazement to be in Lincoln’s orbit.
I understood Eric’s attraction to him. There was something magnetic about Lincoln Hollingsworth. Like he was untouchable. Unreachable. It inspired curiosity about the man. He seemed so . . . indifferent wasn’t the word.
I searched through my vocabulary and failed to find the right adjective.
Ass.
That wasn’t what I was going for, even if it were true.
“You can have half of my donut,” Eric said when they were within earshot. “Want some milk?” He lifted the bottle.
Lincoln shook his head, but it wasn’t an annoyed brush-off. He’d declined my brother’s offer, yet he wasn’t hurtful about it.
Eric clambered back into the van.
“You can’t have any of my donut or milk,” I said when Lincoln’s figure loomed in the doorway.
“I’m more of a strawberry ice cream fan anyway.”
