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Lincoln
I still felt her.
Hours later, and it was like an invasion. She’d penetrated the battle line, and I couldn’t fight her off.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d touched a woman.
That was odd for a man, especially one who was frequently propositioned. And as much as I wanted to blame the lack of intimacy as the reason for my acute reaction, that wasn’t the cause.
It was her.
Lexie.
Not the fixed-up perfection version of her. It was the ugliest sweatshirt I’d ever laid eyes on, hair a disaster, mismatched socks version I craved.
Because I doubted anyone ever saw that Lexie.
Through that knowledge, I’d laid claim to it without even realizing I’d done so.
That Lexie belonged to me.
I shoved the file folder away.
No.
I couldn’t be responsible for her. Didn’t want to be.
As if she would ever allow that anyway.
But she’d surrendered something to me in that kiss. What, I didn’t know. I had no experience in these matters, but whatever it was, it felt fragile. Like I needed to hold it with both hands.
Or maybe it was what they had that I craved.
The simplicity.
Lexie wanted nothing I had to offer. I couldn’t buy her happiness, even if all my accounts were restored.
She had something special with her brother. Their experiences held more worth than all my assets combined.
I understood that on some level because of the relationship I had with my siblings.
But for over forty years, it had been ingrained in me that the measure of my worth was dependent on how much I had. That didn’t just disappear.
Lexie made me question if I’d been using the wrong measuring tool all along.
I leaned back in my chair and looked around my home office.
Before my apartment had been at risk, I’d have said it didn’t matter to me. It was a shelter. A place to rest whenever that time might come.
I’d have said the size of my bank accounts weren’t important.
Now that they were frozen and I had the potential to lose what I’d worked to build, I saw that perhaps those things meant more than I’d realized.
Because besides Teague and Beau, they were all I had.
My gaze locked on the painting Eric had given me.
There was something peaceful about the rustic cabin on the lake. The scene eased a piece of me, the one that couldn’t stay away from Lexie and Eric.
