Her throat bobbed as she looked at the bed and then back to me. “It’s a little hard to explain.”
My brow quirked. “How about you explain it to me while I drive you back to your car.”
“O-okay.”
Shit. I hated how her voice sounded shaky. Why do I always talk down to her? And why is she letting me get away with it this morning?
That fiery personality from yesterday was gone. The woman standing before me seemed . . . defeated.
“I just need to hit the bathroom, grab some Tylenol, and then change.”
She nodded. “I’ll wait on your front porch.”
I wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to wait outside, that she could make some coffee if she wanted to, but I didn’t. I simply nodded and headed into the bathroom. Lincoln didn’t need to get comfortable in my house. Bad enough I wasn’t going to get that image of her in my arms out of my head anytime soon.
After quickly brushing my teeth and washing my face, I changed and slipped a baseball cap on my head, since my damn cowboy hat wasn’t anywhere in sight.
When I stepped out into the living room, I saw Lincoln sitting on the porch swing. Her eyes were closed, and she looked like she was lost to the morning. The peaceful look on her face made me envious. I longed for that sort of peace.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, making her jump.
“Crap! You scared me. I was enjoying the sounds of the morning.”
I folded my arms over my chest. The way her eyes dragged over my body said she was thinking less-than-pure thoughts, but she looked away.
Lincoln cleared her throat and started talking. “About last night . . . nothing happened. I went to leave, but you pulled me onto the bed and asked me to stay. I was going to wait until you fell asleep and then sneak out and just walk back to my house.”
“Walk? In the middle of the night? Lincoln, do you know how far of a walk that is?”
She shrugged. “I tried to stay awake, but I guess I fell asleep. I’m sorry. I meant to be gone by the time you woke up. I don’t make a habit of sleeping in strange men’s beds.”
“So, I’m a stranger?” I asked, a slight smirk on my face.
“You might as well be,” she replied.
Okay, that was deserved, but that hurts a bit.
“Are you ready to go get your car?”
She politely smiled. “If that’s okay. I’m sure you have things to do, so I was trying to think of anyone else I could call to take me. Kaylee obviously doesn’t have her car here, so I can’t call her.”
“It’s fine, and it won’t take long.”
With a nod, she stood. “I feel bad, pulling you away from Blayze, especially if you had plans with him today. Dirk said you’d be leaving for Billings in a few days.”
I balled my fists in reaction to the instant jealousy. “Dirk?” I asked, frowning. “You talked to Dirk?”
“Um, yeah. Last night at the bar. He was sitting at the table with all of us.”
Small bits and pieces of last night flashed through my memory. One of them was Dirk sitting next to Lincoln, deep in conversation with her.
“I’m not leaving for Billings until Friday. I don’t know when Dirk is leaving.”
Lincoln nodded. “Oh. Well, I hope you enjoy your time at home, then.”
She quickly turned and headed down the porch steps toward my truck. I’d seen the keys on the inside table, so I walked in and grabbed them.
I slipped into my truck and started it, and we headed down the dirt road. We sat in silence until I pulled into the parking lot of the Blue Moose. It was one of three bars in town, and the one where most of the locals went.
Lincoln opened the passenger door and glanced over to me. “Thank you for the ride.”
Before she could get out of the truck, I reached for her arm, stopping her. “Thank you for getting me home last night. I appreciate it. I don’t . . . I don’t normally drink like that. It was just a . . . bad day.”
Her smile seemed to make the inside of the truck brighter. “No worries. I’m just glad a deer didn’t run out in front of me last night on the way to your house. I’d have hated to wreck your truck, giving you another reason not to like me.” Her hand lifted, and she said “Bye, Brock” before I could even process what she’d just said.
The door shut, and I sat there for a few seconds before I got out of the truck. “I don’t hate you, Lincoln.”
Her keys were in her hand, and the sound of her car beeping and unlocking felt like her way of saying she didn’t want to talk to me. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I said that. I have a bad habit of not thinking before I talk.”