“We don’t. It was made anonymously this morning.”
A twitch pinches my gut, hidden away in that place that only triggers when you know something you don’t know you know. It crawls out, over my heart, making it tingle, and to my brain. “We don’t, huh?” I look at Lincoln’s profile, all angles and scruff. He refuses to look at me.
“No. But whoever it is deserves a huge hug. And a kiss.” She rattles on and on while I watch Lincoln pointedly not look at me. “Are you still there, Danielle?”
“Yes,” I laugh, shaking my head. “Such great news. Thank you for calling. I’ll see you at work on Monday!”
“See you then. Happy Thanksgiving.” The phone goes back in my bag as I continue to wait for Lincoln to look at me. “Guess what?”
“What’s that?” He faces me, his eyes cautious.
“Someone anonymously donated enough money to keep our program going for a while. Isn’t that nice?”
“That’s awesome, Dani.”
“You, uh, you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Instinctively, he leans away. It’s so slight, so barely noticeable that I know he doesn’t realize he’s done it. And therefore, given himself up. “Why would I?”
“I think you do, Landry.” My hand rests on his knee, and with even pressure, I run it up his muscled thigh to the bend of his jeans.
“I think you’re crazy,” he gulps, nodding towards Troy as if he’s reminding me he’s there.
“Don’t act innocent. No one believes you.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” he grins, “I’m happy to fuck you right here.”
“Landry!” I exclaim, my cheeks burning.
He chuckles in return while Troy, ever the professional, pretends not to notice. The car pulls up to the entrance of the Farm. It is beautiful. An ornate gate opens, and a long, winding driveway extends in front of us. Hedges block any visibility from the road, and it’s not until we are rounding a bend that I can see the house.
Why they call it a farmhouse is beyond me. That word paints an image of a little white house with a chicken coop. This is a Southern plantation. A huge, wide porch with pillars looks to encompass the entire place. Mums line whiskey barrels and give the clean exterior pops of burgundy, orange, and yellow. It’s breathtaking.
“This is gorgeous,” I breathe as it comes into full view. “Not what I expected.”
“This is my second favorite place in the world,” he whispers against my ear.
“Second? What could be more perfect that this?”
“Inside you.”
Before he can pull away, I turn my face so my lips capture his. He deepens the kiss, our lips working against one another in perfect harmony. As we pull away, breathless, he grins. “Thank you for coming.”
“I’ll ensure you come later,” I promise.
“Naughty girl,” he chuckles as the car rolls to a stop. “I like it.”
“You will.”
Looking around the fields leading to a spectacular tree line of evergreens, I feel my heartbeat pick up. I practice my even breathing technique so I don’t panic. “Who are all these people?”
A swarm of people seems to pop out from all directions. A regal couple stand on the porch, and I figure them to be Lincoln’s parents by their age. Another man comes out the front door and down the steps towards the car. He looks like Lincoln, just more distinguished in his navy button-up and open collar. I vaguely recognize him as Barrett Landry from random magazine articles.
From the side of the house comes a stockier, clean-cut version of the same cloth. With his black track pants and long-sleeve white shirt, he looks military. At his side is a female, younger than Lincoln, in ripped jeans and an orange off-the-shoulder shirt. Her long, blonde hair is purple at the ends.
“My family,” Lincoln smiles the widest I’ve ever seen. “Come on!”
Without waiting for Troy to open the door, Lincoln slides out, nearly pulling me along with him. His excitement is contagious and, despite the tinge of panic, I find myself smiling.