Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
A flicker of warmth stirs in my belly at the thought of “home.” Over the past few weeks, that term’s become fluid—sometimes my place, often his. Lately, though, we keep ending up at Lincoln’s place, letting the quiet presence of each other soothe the lingering nightmares. And the nights, I think, heat prickling my cheeks.
I close my laptop, tucking it under my arm. “Yeah, I think that’s enough for one day. Asher’s got plenty of notes to work with.”
We gather our things and step out of the conference room into the bustling bullpen of Maddox Security. A few colleagues wave or nod in greeting. I spot Dean in his office, glancing up from paperwork. He’s still nursing that shoulder injury, but he tries to hide the pain. Sophia’s in there too, perched on the edge of his desk—she shoots me a conspiratorial wink as I pass, as if to say, You two are adorable. My cheeks warm, but I give a quick wave, letting them be.
Lincoln and I weave through the labyrinth of desks and head for the elevator. The steel doors slide open, and we step inside. The moment the doors close, sealing us in a brief cocoon of privacy, Lincoln turns to me. A quiet intensity lights his gaze.
“You seemed distracted in the meeting,” he says softly, reaching to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
A gentle flutter stirs in my chest. “Maybe I was.” I allow myself a small smile, stepping closer so that our bodies are nearly touching. “Hard to focus when I’ve got you sitting right across from me.” The confession sounds bolder than I intend, but after everything we’ve been through, I’m done hiding how I feel.
Lincoln’s expression flickers with amusement, and he leans in, pressing a featherlight kiss to my forehead. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Ms. Maddox,” he murmurs, a playful edge coloring his tone.
The elevator dings, and we break apart just in time for the doors to slide open on the ground floor. Exhaling a laugh, I hurry out, Lincoln beside me. Outside, the crisp evening air carries the promise of autumn—cool against my cheeks. Our footsteps echo in the mostly empty parking lot as we approach his SUV.
“Drive safe,” a security guard calls from the main doors, and Lincoln lifts a hand in acknowledgment. We climb into the vehicle, and I exhale a deep breath after a long day.
Once we’re on the road, I settle into the passenger seat, letting my gaze trace the city lights rushing by. It’s a comfortable silence, punctuated by the hum of the engine and Lincoln’s occasional glances in my direction. My heart thrums with a mix of exhaustion from the day’s work and anticipation for whatever the evening holds. Just you and me, finishing the night in your arms, I think, warmth blossoming at the base of my spine.
The drive to Lincoln’s house is mercifully short, and soon the familiar sight of his modest, cozy place greets us. As we enter, I shrug off my jacket, and the soft glow of a lamp in the living room bathes the space in a welcoming haze. It smells faintly of coffee and the spice-scented candle I insisted we burn the other night.
Lincoln closes the door behind us, locking it. His keys clink softly against the table. Then he turns, eyes searching mine, tension humming in the space between us.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he confesses, voice low. “Even in that meeting.”
A smile tugs at my lips, heart fluttering. “I noticed,” I say, stepping closer. My hands find his chest, sliding upward to rest against his broad shoulders. The steady thump of his heartbeat matches the rush in my ears.
He leans in, and I rise onto my toes. Our lips meet in a slow, deliberate kiss—one that carries the echoes of relief, gratitude, and unspoken desire. My fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer, until our bodies align. He lets out a soft groan, tipping his head to deepen the kiss. The warmth of his mouth sends sparks dancing along my nerves.
It feels like coming home. He breaks the kiss to press a path down my jaw to the sensitive spot beneath my ear, and I shiver. Each gentle brush of his lips dissolves the day’s worries.
“Bedroom?” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper. My cheeks flare with heat, but the want surges too strong to hide.
A quiet laugh rumbles in his chest. “Yeah,” he says, dipping his head to capture my mouth again, this time more urgently. “Bedroom.”
We navigate the short hallway in a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter, stealing quick kisses and touches along the way. My heart trips over itself with every step, dizzy with the promise of what’s to come. Inside his room, lit only by the faint glow of a streetlamp through the window, I see our reflections in the mirror—two silhouettes pressed together, hungry for each other’s closeness.