Page 68 of The Captain

Mick really picked a fantastic place for us to take this trip.

“Ready to go home?” Lincoln’s voice is smooth and deep, barely carrying through the steam that rises between us. I can still see him perfectly fine, but the steam gives me a little more room to relax.

An illusion of privacy.

“I am.” Though sitting in this hot tub, I wish I would have done it more. This was what I wanted all weekend—to relax and enjoy the fresh mountain air. To get away and have a break from the grind of being a waitress while hoping I can become an author and also pretending I wasn’t infatuated with the man sitting across from me.

It was a draining way to live.

I tilt my head back, aware that his eyes are on me and unsure of what I want to do about it. When we were in my apartment, just us two, his stare made me blush, but I always liked it. Even if I wouldn’t have admitted it.

He was the first person who showed interest in me that I wanted to show interest in me. That I wanted to get to know and possibly fall in love with and have that perfect fairy-tale life.

Ugh. Even thinking that I sound pathetic. I don’t really believe life is perfect. I know it’s messy, and sometimes messy is even poetic in its own way, but sometimes I just wish things were easy.

“What are your plans for this week?” he asks in a way that says he’s merely curious, not trying to seek out whether or not he could have a chance to see me.

It gives me a bit of freedom when I answer him. “I plan to try not to stress about the submission letters. I’m going to look into self-publishing in case agents don’t work out for me and work.” I purse my lips and tilt my head back down, looking at him through the steam. He smiles at me, and I ignore the weird churning in my gut. “Not really anything exciting.” I clear my throat.

“I beg to differ. Sounds like you have a busy week ahead.”

I nod, uncommitted to the thought, then look back over at him. “How about you? How goes your rewrite?”

He looks away at the question, and I wonder why he failed in the first place. I briefly wonder if it was my fault. Was I too distracting for him? Was our relationship the reason he couldn’t finish the paper? Did he get behind?

“I’ve got some work.”

“Right.” I nod and think about him on the ice with all those little kids. I couldn’t deny that it was adorable to watch. “The lessons.”

He grins. “Yeah, we have scrimmages on Friday, and everyone’s excited about that.”

I raise a brow, letting my hand float in the water. “Those tiny little kids are going to play hockey?”

Lincoln chuckles. “Yup.”

“That’s safe?”

Nodding, he scoots to the left, getting closer so he can see me better. There’s still no other sound around us—the house quiet from the slumbering group we’re with, the mountain still this high up, with only the occasional animal sound drifting by.

“It’s completely safe,” he says, resting his arm on the back of the hot tub. I have no idea if that’s supposed to be an invitation or something else. “You don’t trust me?”

I swallow at the question, at how loaded it truly is. I glance away, and I’m shocked that he lets me have a minute to digest the question. He knows what a loaded one it was, how it’ll affect me after everything we’ve been through.

“It’s not simple, you know.”

I feel a finger rub against my shoulder and resist the urge that begs me to lean into that touch.

It’s one single touch of his finger, and my body tenses against the need to turn to him, to straddle his lap and grab his face in my hands, to have his lips on mine.

To have his lips on my body.

I glance over at him, and his eyes are already on mine. I see so much emotion in them that I can’t even name without making myself want to cry.

“I know.”

Lincoln scoots closer, and I find my body gravitating toward him. I’m not trying to do that, but I can’t help it. I crave being close to him and being held by him.

“I’m not trying to push, but I miss you, Sunshine.”

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