Page 47 of Carry On

I didn’t need all the messy in-between parts if he didn’t want to give them to me. Lord knew I had no desire to give him all my messy, in-between parts.

“What about you?” Nash asked, his voice pulling me from my thoughts. “Was your childhood all rainbows and sunshine, Linc?”

“More like… con artists and cookies,” I retorted.

“I think you’re underestimating a good cookie.”

“My parents never should’ve dated. They also should’ve used a fucking condom, but who am I to judge?” I took a long sip of water. Who was I to judge, considering I was the product of said poor choice? “My father convinced my mother to have the baby she didn’t want. She did, and then she left us when I was six months old. Apparently, I was a hard baby to handle.

“After that, it was just me and my father, who hated even the idea of working a normal job. Why settle for normal when you could con people out of their money and make a lot more?” I rolled my eyes. “For a man supposedly conning the hell out of people, we lived out of a beaten-up old RV, traveled, and I learned a lot about how to scam people. Hell, this cute face was used more than a few times to con some people out of money.”

“Ah, the little felon.” Nash smiled slightly. “Who knew the good ol’ Lincoln Cassidy had it in him?”

“I know. I’m full of secrets,” I retorted. “I was seven when my father decided I was cramping his style. He dropped me off at my uncle’s house in Pine Creek and never looked back, not even long enough to check that anyone answered the door.”

“That’s fucking cold,” he murmured.

“It was,” I agreed. “Anyway, my aunt and uncle are good people. They got me straightened out. It took a hell of a lot of summer school and a lot of my aunt’s famous chocolate chip cookies to get me back on track academically. I got my shit together, went to law school, moved to Seattle, and you know the rest.”

“Man, being seven fucking sucked,” he commented, making me laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, it did.”

CHAPTER 35

NASH

Areyoudatinganyone?”I asked. I stopped strumming my guitar for a moment as I realized just how stupid that question was. The longer we sat here talking about our lives and little stupid shit, the more comfortable I got. The more I wanted to know. Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time I had an interaction like this. Jay and I talked, but not like this. It also didn’t hurt that I was warm, relaxed, and as fed as I could handle being. Was this what I was signing myself up for?

Is this what you’re burdening him with?the voice countered.A lifetime of you?

I shoved the thought away and focused on Lincoln and the way he frowned at me for even asking. I couldn’t blame him for that.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well,” I hummed as I tried to find the best way to play it off, “if I’m going to marry you, I should probably know about your boyfriend.”

“Please,” Lincoln scoffed. The disdain in his voice was thick. “I don’t date.”

“Friend situation?”

“Not a chance.”

“Fuck buddy?” Why in the world was I pushing the question? Hadn’t I learned last time not to do that? Also, why did I care if he had someone else?

“Persistent fuck, aren’t you?” He sighed as he got comfortable in the chair, putting his feet up on the coffee table and crossing his arms. “To answer your question: no, I don’t have a fuck buddy. I have two individuals I meet with for a… mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“A mutually beneficial arrangement?” I repeated, sure I hadn’t heard him right, but he just nodded. “Jesus fucking Christ, Linc, just say you hire a hooker—”

“They’re not hookers,” he interrupted. “That’s rude.”

“Oh, I’msorry,” I lamented dramatically. “I won’t speak about youremployeesthat way.”

“Fuck calling them my employees,” Lincoln retorted. “Then I’d have to pay taxes to get off. I’m not paying the government to come.”

“Jesus fuck.” I chuckled. “Do mutually beneficial arrangements require that individuals pay taxes?”

“Considering most forms of sex work are illegal, I’m fairly certain most of them don’t mind tax evasion,” he said. “You do realize we’re wildly off topic, right?”