Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Nope, this one was all on him. And if he replayed that kiss, over and over while he showered after the run, well, that was between him and the hot water. He’d tried rationalizing the kiss all weekend as relief that Jacob had come back in one piece from his first solo jump. That was why he’d waited around, thinking he might as well tell Jacob he’d done well, give him some of that praise he always seemed to be seeking. But that was a lie. He could have simply sent a quick text, told him “good job.” No, he’d waited around because he’d needed to touch him, needed proof that he was okay. Need, not relief, had driven him. He’d needed Jacob, needed the touch and taste of him, until nothing, not even news of Ray’s warnings could stop him from kissing Jacob like a drowning man clinging to the last buoy.
And now he had to go to Jenna’s party, act normal, and most definitely not lose his head like that again. Which meant getting ready, even if he didn’t particularly want to. Because he’d been the hungry Reid kid showing up empty-handed to Hartman family gatherings too many years when younger, he refused to do it now. So after his shower, Ray and Garrick long gone, he made a plate of deviled eggs to take to the party. Mrs. Billups, a widow he helped from time to time, had had extra eggs when he fixed her fence the day before. He wasn’t one to let food go to waste. So eggs. All fancy, his mother’s recipe from a cookbook older than he was. And a clean shirt, one with buttons, and him showing up at the party only a little after the appointed time.
“Hey! It’s Uncle Linc!” Jacob greeted him at the door, holding baby Willow in one arm, Junior right behind him.
Linc’s heart did that funny thing it always did when he saw Jacob with the nieces and nephews. Stupid heart had damn near beat out of his chest at the hospital after Willow was born, when he’d seen Jacob holding the baby while Jenna held May, who was crying because Wyatt wasn’t there to see.
“Here.” Like back then, Jacob passed him the baby, who was bigger now, a warm weight to settle in the crook of his arm while he handed off the eggs to Jacob, a trade-off as easy as if they did it daily. The baby didn’t even protest the change, snuggling into Linc as they all trooped toward the open kitchen.
“I found Uncle Linc,” Junior announced in a carnival-barker-loud voice. Looking at him was a flashback thirty years ago to Wyatt in kindergarten, faded memories of a little blond boy with a big family and a long ride into town on the school bus filled with shared sticks of gum and crumbled trading cards. A friendship born of convenience but forged in blood nonetheless.
“Find a seat,” Jenna called, so Linc took a chair next to some older boy cousins playing on tablets at the table, transferring the baby to his other shoulder.
“Do you need me to take her?” May flitted over, thinner than he’d seen her last, but somehow less fragile, not quite stretched so tissue-paper thin. Maybe living here with Jenna suited her. And maybe too it was the passage of time, the relentless march forward that Linc tried not to dwell on.
“Nah. She’s fine.”
“Thanks, Linc.” She gave him a pat on the shoulder before heading back to the kitchen.
“You’re always the baby magnet. We need to find you a wife.” Jon, one of the older Hartman siblings, slapped him on the back, giving a meaningful glance in May’s direction.
“Gonna nip that bad idea in the bud right now,” Linc said in a low, firm whisper. Jon was only a year younger than him and Wyatt. They’d all hung around some, had their first beers and plenty of other adventures together.
“What? I’m just saying—”
“Well, don’t. And don’t let her catch you at it either.” Even if Linc were so inclined in that direction, May was so far off-limits as to be wrapped in barbed wire. Luckily, the feeling appeared to be mutual, with her always cordial but cool, the way she was with all Wyatt’s buddies. But the last thing he needed was the all-too-helpful Hartman clan playing matchmaker.
Across the table from him, Jacob said nothing aloud, but his eyes spoke volumes. Tell him. Just set the record right. No wife for you. He shrugged, like it was no big deal, while Linc went cold at the very thought.
Nope, he shot back with his own eyes. The family might have all dealt okay with Jacob coming out, but there had been some rocky years in there. And Linc didn’t doubt that Jon would have a similar warning for him regarding Jacob. It would change things, and not for the better to his mind. Wyatt had intimated more than once his theory that it was Jacob’s crush on Linc that had “turned” him. Like such a thing was possible.