She tosses the ring, and it lands on the bottle. She squeals in delight and hugs Lincoln. The boy hands her a giant bear, and she thanks Lincoln before running with her bear toward her grandfather, yelling for him to see what she won.

  “You just made that little girl’s life,” I say with a laugh.

  He shrugs.

  “Oh, and let’s not forget about the kid,” I add with a smirk and nod of my head.

  I sit down on a bench, placing my loot on the ground. “Why are you here?” I ask him.

  He shrugs.

  “Lincoln!” I growl.

  “I don’t like when you and Coop get into trouble,” he growls back.

  I glare at him. “We seldom ‘get into trouble,’” I say.

  He gives me a pointed look, and I blush. So maybe we get into trouble, but it’s usually harmless and fun. It’s not like Lincoln’s had to bail me out of jail…well…there was that one run-in with police in Rome, but that was more of a huge mistake.

  I roll my eyes and walk toward where I’m meeting Coop and Mason. I know Lincoln is following me because I can sense his presence behind me. He doesn’t speak as we wander between groups of people. Even with his hat and sunglasses, he gets the occasional stare as we pass someone who recognizes him.

  I know when Mason and Coop spot us because their eyes light up when they see me, and then their eyes widen when they see Lincoln.

  “Uh, hey,” Coop says as we approach. “I didn’t know you’d be joining us.”

  “I had a last-minute change of plans,” Lincoln says.

  “Oh?” Mason responds, his eyebrows rising as he looks between us. I roll my eyes again.

  “So?” I ask them.

  “I got it all but the giant stuffed animal,” Mason says.

  “Same,” Coop follows.

  “I didn’t get a selfie with an LA person,” I say. All of a sudden, my phone is lifted out of my hand, and before I know it, Lincoln’s arm reaches around me and takes a photo of us.

  “There,” he says. “You win.”

  Mason groans and Coop laughs. “Well, shit, that’s one way to win,” Coop says.

  “What do you win?” Lincoln asks.

  I grin. “The pleasure of knowing I won,” I say to him sweetly.

  He rolls his eyes now, while Mason and Coop laugh.

  “Dude, she wins a round of drinks on us,” Coop says.

  “Rain check,” Lincoln says.

  “What? Why?” I ask, turning toward him.

  “I need you back at the house to handle something,” he says.

  “What?” I ask as I cross my arms.

  “Band stuff,” he says.

  I sigh. “How about this weekend?” I say to Coop and Mason.

  Mason shrugs.

  “I guess,” Coop says. “Lincoln, I love you, man, but beer-blocking our girl here is seriously not cool.”

  Lincoln gives Cooper a hard look, and I can see Cooper visibly shrink away. Now, I know Lincoln Grant puts off that alpha lead singer ego on stage, but in real life, I don’t often see this side of him. I have to say that it’s both sexually appealing and also downright confusing.

  “See you this weekend,” Coop says to me and leans in for a hug. As he kisses my cheek, I can feel the tension rolling off Lincoln. Whatever bug crawled up his ass and died must be a huge one. I hug Mason before following Lincoln to his car.

  “Was that really necessary?” I ask him as he pulls out of his parking spot and heads toward his house.

  “Yes, yes, it was,” he grumbles before turning on music. We don’t speak again as he drives us back.

  When we arrive home, I follow Lincoln into the kitchen. He opens his beer fridge and pulls out a can of beer.

  “So?” I ask.

  “So?” he responds.

  “What the fuck do you need?” I ask him. He stops opening the beer and looks at me. He opens his mouth and closes it, and then opens it again, but he’s cut off when Maria comes running up the basement stairs and throws the door open.

  “Mr. Grant, Mr. Grant, I’m so glad you are here. We have a major problem!” she yells.

  Lincoln sets the beer down. “What?” he replies as he walks toward her.

  “Water!” she says and points toward the basement.

  Lincoln takes off running down to the lower level of the house. It’s actually a walkout basement because the house is on a hill. There is a wine cellar though.

  I follow Maria who follows Lincoln. We don’t get far because there’s water, and I don’t mean a puddle either. I mean a full inch of water covering most of the man cave.

  “Shit!” Lincoln yells.

  “Fuck,” I say slowly. I go to step down and try to figure out where the water is coming from but I’m quickly pulled back by Lincoln.

  “What the fuck, Lark! The power’s on,” he says as he points to a cord on the floor.

  I don’t waste another breath as I head back up the stairs. There are important phone numbers on my phone which I left on the counter a moment ago. I pull up the plumber’s number which is still saved on my phone for some unknown reason and hit call. Two minutes later, a plumber is being sent to the house.

  Lincoln is standing in front of me with Maria next to him.

  “Let’s all calm down. We’ll get this sorted out shortly,” I say to them.

  “The basement has an unpermitted swimming pool, and you think we’ll get it sorted out shortly?” Lincoln asks with a raised eyebrow.

  “Shortly-ish?” I respond with a shrug.

  He shakes his head at me. “I’ll be in my room,” he sulks as he walks away.

  Maria gives me a sympathetic look. I’m not sure how she has put up with Lincoln’s assholishness for as long as she has. I do know that she deserves sainthood at the very least.

  “Can you let the plumber in when he arrives?” I ask her. “I should probably check in on Lincoln.”

  She nods. “Of course,” she says to me. I start to walk away when she speaks again, “I’m glad you are back, Lark. He wasn’t the same without you.”

  I turn abruptly. “Lincoln Grant is an adult and doesn’t need me or any other babysitter. Just remember that, Maria.”

  She gives me a half smile. “You are correct that he is an adult and doesn’t need a babysitter, but he does need you,” she replies coyly and walks toward the front door. I’m left standing there with my mouth open. Maria seldom talks to me about anything non-household related. I feel like maybe she sees more than she lets on…OK, I know she sees more than she lets on, but I don’t believe that Lincoln needs me. He’s made that perfectly clear.

  Lincoln

  So, maybe I’m sulking like a kid. I had wanted to bring Lark back here, to really talk to her. But now we have a moat forming in my basement, so that plan’s ruined. I walk down the hall and into my music room. It’s this little space that I never really knew what to do with, so my designer hung a bunch of my acoustic guitars and put this crazy fabric mural thing on the walls surrounding them. I pluck down my favorite. A Martin D-15M that was a gift from Lark. I wanted to kill her for spending so much money on a guitar for me for what seemed like a minor event, a housewarming gift. While I have guitars that are considered better, this one is special to me.

  I strum it and start to sing to myself. I play a few of my favorite songs and slowly I begin to calm down. I need a new plan to win her back. I just don’t know what that plan is going to be. Then it dawns on me. The tour would be the perfect place to tell her how I feel. I want to whack myself in the head with the guitar for not thinking of this beforehand.

  I need something good, something perfect. I put down the guitar and pull out my phone, calling Kade, because Harry would definitely botch up something this important. Harry’s more of a wingman-in-a-bar type of friend, not a plan-a-romantic-evening-to-win-back-the-girl-of-your-dreams type of guy.

  “Sup,” Kade answers.

  “I need her,” I say to him.

  “I’m sorry, what?” he asks.

  “I need Lark,” I whisper, almost afraid to say the words out loud.

  “OK…so why are you calling me? Isn’t she in the house? Jesus Christ, did you fuck things up again? I can’t be there all the time! Please tell me—”

  “Kade, shut the fuck up, man. I didn’t fuck up anything. I just realized…” I take a deep breath. “I just realized recently that I love her.” Kade says nothing for a very long minute.

  “It’s about fucking time,” he finally answers. “You need a plan. And I swear to god if you fucking hurt her in any way, I will kill you.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m calling you,” I say to him.

  “It’s going to have to be epic,” he says to me.

  “Jesus, I know. Celia said the same thing,” I say.

  “Celia?” Kade asks.

  I groan and fill Kade in on the Celia breakup, and how we are now friends, and how she was giving me ideas to win over Lark. Fifteen minutes later, Kade is in on the plan. And thirty minutes later, I think we might actually have something.

  Chapter 13

  Lark

  “Uh, ma’am?” the plumber calls from the basement. Ma’am, seriously, I’m not ninety-five, hell, I’m not even thirty. I groan and walk toward the basement stairs.

  “Yes?” I answer.

  “This is going to take a few days. I will have to turn off the main water supply until tomorrow,” he says. “Did you submit this to the insurance company? They could put you up in a hotel. I’ll email over the paperwork now.”

  This time I groan loudly, and the man gives me a look of pity.

  “Yeah, I’ll go sort it out,” I say and then, knowing it’s not his fault, I turn back. “Thanks,” I mumble.

  “Uh, sure. Sorry about the inconvenience,” he adds.

  I head to the office and book a hotel for Lincoln and me. Then, I text Kade and tell him to go stay with Savannah tonight.

  Kade has still been spending a lot of time here, but less so since I’ve settled back in. I’m about to go alert Lincoln to our temporary housing change of plans when Gwen calls me.

  “Lark, we need to chat about the upcoming tour. We’ve cut it down to six dates now over about three weeks. Two concerts per week. I’m emailing you cities and hotels now. I’ll need you to follow up at each location and confirm everything. We leave on Saturday for the first city,” she says. It’s our normal pre-tour discussion, but I grimace at the thought of actually doing this. Part of me still wants to pack up and leave, but…a bigger part of me can’t let him go.

  I make the arrangements that need to be done sooner rather than later before heading up to find Lincoln not in his bedroom but in his music room. His back is to me as he sits in a chair. He has on headphones and is strumming an electric guitar. His head bobs to a beat that matches his knee as his foot bounces up and down. But it’s not the visual that captures me first, it’s his voice. All I hear is his raspy, deep voice, and it guts me.

  “Carrie, why did you go?

  You should be here,

  You should be here, oh, oh, oh.

  Carrie, you left to soon,

  It used to be me

  And you in our cocoon.

  Carrie, where are you?

  I need you,

  But instead, I’m blue.”

  * * *

  His voice cracks on the last word, and my heart breaks a bit. I’ve always known Lincoln was a bit of the cliché messed-up rocker with a difficult past, but hearing his words…my heart constricts.

  I clear my throat, but he doesn’t hear me, I walk up and tap his shoulder. He jumps and turns, pulling his headphones down.

  “Sorry to bother you, but, uh, we have to go away for the night,” I tell him.

  “Sorry?” he asks in confusion.

  “The plumber just told me that he has to cut the main water to the house to fix the pipe, so I booked us at a hotel for tonight,” I explain.

  I see something flash over his eyes, and I swear it’s excitement, which confuses the hell out of me.

  “Oh, OK,” he answers after a beat.

  “Cool, uh, well, I’m gonna grab some things. I have a car picking us up in about an hour,” I say to him. “Should I have Maria pack you a bag, or should I?”

  “No, that’s fine. I can do it,” he says, placing his guitar down.

  “Right, OK, well, Kade is staying at Savannah’s, so I booked you a suite,” I say.

  “What about you?” he asks.

  “I have a room at the hotel, too. Don’t worry about me,” I say to him.

  “Why don’t you just stay in the suite or get us adjoining rooms?” he asks.

  I scrunch my eyes as I try to figure out what the hell he is talking about. He always gets a suite, and I always get a single room somewhere nearby in the hotel.

  “Uh, you don’t want your normal suite?” I ask him.

  “It’s just one night. It seems like a waste of money to get a suite and another room, don’t you think?” he asks.

  I shrug. “Sure, uh yeah, whatever,” I mumble as I head out of the room. I turn back realizing I’ve been sort of presumptuous. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t even think. I know you’ve been seeing Celia. Would you prefer to stay with her?”

  His face turns a little white for a second. “Uh, no, no, that’s fine. Let’s just go to a hotel,” he says so quickly that the words run together, and it takes me a few seconds to process his answer.

  “OK then, I’ll go pack,” I reply as I head to my room.

  My phone pings as I throw items in an overnight bag.

  Cooper: Playtime?

  Me: Coop – we have a flood situation and have to stay at a hotel

  Cooper: Perfect! Which one? Mason and I are going out and so are you

  I stare at his text. I probably shouldn’t go out. I probably should stay in and make sure Lincoln doesn’t get in trouble…but…I could use some more fun with Cooper especially after this water debacle.

  Me: OK

  I send him the hotel deets, and he messages me to be ready by seven. I throw in some “going out” clothes and heels. Lincoln decides we can drive ourselves, so I call and cancel the driver before loading up the car.

  Lincoln gets us there quickly. We check in and are shown to a suite with two rooms off it. I sigh with relief and toss my bag on a chair in my room, the smaller of the two.

  “You don’t want this one?” Lincoln asks from his bedroom.

  “This what?” I ask.

  He pokes his head in my room. “The bigger bedroom? It has a nicer view.”

  I shrug. “I’m going out, so it doesn’t really matter.”

  His whole demeanor changes. “What do you mean?” he asks, his voice gruff.

  “I mean, I’m going out. You’re all set here. You don’t need me. You are a big boy,” I say to him. He huffs and walks back out of my room.

  I decide to take my computer down to the pool for the afternoon and do some work. I throw on a bikini and head down.

  I tug at my bikini top as I try to get settled in a lounge chair. I hadn’t thought to buy a new one since losing weight. It’s hot out, and I order myself a cold drink as I work on Lincoln’s schedule. I nearly have hotel details secured for the tour when my phone buzzes. It’s Coop.

  “Hey,” I say into my headphones as I continue working.

  “Dinner and then clubbing?” he asks.

  “Sure,” I answer. I look at the time. I’ve been down here for a few hours now. But that leaves me with plenty of time for a quick swim before I need to shower and change.

  “Cool, I’ll see you in a bit,” he says as he hangs up. I shut down the computer and pull out my earbuds. The pool is fairly empty except for a few teenagers and a family in the shallow end. The dad is a definite DILF, but his wife looks like she’s been to the plastic surgeon enough times to qualify as a human Barbie. She lies in a lounge chair sipping water while her husband plays with the kids in the pool. I roll my eyes. Southern California can be so fake.

  I walk to the edge of the pool and dive into the deep end. The water feels amazing against my hot skin. I swim a few laps and start to the edge of the pool. I begin to lift myself out when a kid’s voice breaks my train of thought.

  “Uh, lady, this isn’t a nudist colony,” a boy who can’t be more than twelve says from a few feet away. I look down and gasp.

  My bikini top is missing. I quickly cover my breasts.

  The little shit, who I can’t really be mad at because at least he pointed this out before I emerged from the water, is now snickering with another little boy who must be his older brother. I groan as I search the bottom of the pool for my bikini top.

  I spot it and am about to dive down to collect it when a smaller kid cannonballs in beside me and dives down. He grabs my bikini.

  “Thanks,” I say to him as he emerges. He laughs in my face and swings around the top.

  “Look what I got, Benji! I got a bra!!” he says triumphantly.

  I grimace. “That’s a bikini top, and it’s mine. Can you please give it back to me?”

  “Heck no, lady, finders keepers,” he says as he starts swimming away from me waving the top in the air like a trophy.

  “Hey!” I call out and then clamp my mouth shut as I realize I’m drawing more attention to me. The DILF is now looking at me, well, at my breasts and his wife is glaring at me. His kids are little enough to seem oblivious to everything. A few teenagers by the slide are laughing and pointing. I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks.

  I’m about to tell this little monster that I will kill him if he doesn’t give me back my top when, out of nowhere, someone dives into the pool beside me. The momentum pushes me back in the water, and I have to uncover my breasts to stay afloat.

  I notice a look of terror on the kid’s face, and then a look of shock, then a look of awe…as Lincoln emerges from beneath the water like some sort of pool god.

  “Hey, kid, do mind giving my friend back her top?” he says to the kid.

  “Y-you’re Lincoln Grant,” the kid stammers.

  “Yep,” Lincoln says as the kid slowly hands him my bikini top. “Have a good one,” he adds as he takes my top and swims over to me. “I think you may want to put this back on.”

 

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