Page 127 of Burden of Proof

“I’ve found you,” I promised him. “Daddy’s here, alright? Daddy is here. Sir is here. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

That promise, that vow, that was the thing that broke him, and Lincoln let out a breathy sob that rattled straight through my sternum. I held him tighter, like my arms could ever be enough to keep him together. Like I could be enough. An hour later, after the water ran cold, and I carried Lincoln to bed, it turned out I was

CHAPTER 39

LINCOLN

Iwoke up certain I’d been hit by a semi-truck, but as I blinked the bedroom into focus, I remembered the reality had been much, much worse. I was in bed with Hunter wrapped around me like a goddamn octopus, my head aching like I’d slammed it into a wall five hundred times, when in reality all I’d done was ruin Hunter’s life, run to his house, and cry about it until I basically lost consciousness.

Call me the patron saint of…

I didn’t even know.

“Are you awake?” he murmured into the back of my hair.

“Unfortunately.”

“Can we talk?” he asked.

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and I swallowed bile. “Can I have coffee first?”

“Yes. Of course.” He made no move to get out of bed. “Here or the living room?”

“The bottom of the ocean,” I offered as a counterproposal.

“The living room,” Hunter said, giving me a squeeze before untangling his burning hot body from mine. I immediately mourned the absence of him, but it was my quest for closeness that pulled me out of bed and forced me to the couch. Hunterhad put a pair of his pajamas on me at some point, and I appreciated that he’d dressed me in his clothes instead of my own. There was no real reason for it other than I liked it. I liked the way his pants were a little too big around my waist. That, even knotted, they hung a little too low.

Hiking them up so I didn’t trip, I made my way to the couch and sat down. Hunter was there seconds later with a mug of coffee for each of us, his dark scruff looking soft and gorgeous. Just like the rest of him. Even with his hair wild from sleep and purple bags bruising beneath his eyes, Hunter Covington was a catch of a man. He deserved someone so much better than me, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Are you breaking up with me?” I asked, burning the words out of my mouth with a swallow of still too hot coffee.

“What?” His brows raised, and bless him, he looked genuinely shocked.

“Are you breaking up with me?” I asked again, the words hurting marginally less the second time. I wondered how often I’d need to utter them before the sting lessened to something manageable.

“Why would I break up with you?”

“Because of what happened last night.”

“How was any of that your fault?” he asked.

I didn’t appreciate the obtuse conversation, and I had half a mind to pour my scalding coffee all over his head.

“It was because of my job,” I reminded him. “Or did you not get the whole story from your brother or your business partner?”

“My brother told me myformerbusiness partner was trying to blackmail you,” he said, setting his coffee down on the table and grabbing my knees. “That’s not your fault.”

“It…what do you mean former?”

“Former,” he repeated. “I told them last night before I left I wouldn’t work with someone like that. He can leave or I will; it makes no difference to me.”

“How can you say that?” I leaned over and set my coffee next to his, frowning down at the way his fingers wrapped around my kneecaps like they’d been molded to fit there.

“How could I not?” he asked, moving his hands from my legs to my face, the same thoughtful grip against my cheeks, fingers sculpted to hold me in all the right ways, and I blinked hard, fighting back an embarrassing wave of tears. “I love you. I’m in love with you, Lincoln.”

I clenched my jaw, fighting the way my chin quivered at his confession, at his truth. It was far from the first time he’d told me he loved me, but maybe…it was the first time I believed it.

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered, hating the water in my words, the tremble as I fought through every syllable.