“Incoming text message from Dominic Owens. ‘So, this is what it is, huh? I say take ashort flight or road trip with your guys, you sayyou’ll think about it, and now you’re outthere slipping and falling in love—’”
Linc jabs a finger at the screen, switching to music.Loudmusic.
He glances at me, blushing cutely. “Sorry about that.”
I bite back a laugh, loving every second of embarrassed Lincoln Bridges crushing on me. And there’s that word again.Love.
It feels like the elephant in the car, squished between us, and weirdly, I don’t mind the idea of us in love, seeing where this could go.
“It’s fine. My divas are calling me out, too.” I smile nervously. “So, I’m guessing right about now you’d love to change the subject to anything else.”
“Great guess.”
“Should we maybe talk about that theory you wanted to tell me about?” I trace the edge of my fingernail between my teeth, still studying him.
Linc glances at me, self-conscious and clearly uneasy under the weight of my stare.
I see the way you look at me.
Damn right.
“Yeah, about that…” He swallows. “Are you ready to have your mind blown?”
Among other things.
He pauses, then dives in, telling me about family dinner night, and I learn that his mom swooped in and took his dad from Cornelia. I’m already speechless. But the kicker? Not only has Linc bought into my theory about Cornelia setting me up for a downfall, but he also believeshemight be her second target.
My mind is officially boggled.
“It’s crazy, right?” he says.
The silence lingers, though, because how do I respond to that? She’s made us both her enemies. She wants to take us both down. So, what’s she waiting for?
I’m still considering what this means when we reach the glazier’s small shop in Dawsonville. I haven’t said so much as two words to Linc as the guy sorts and examines the broken crystals, carefully determining the extent of the damage. But I feel Linc’s eyes on me, stealing glances, as if he’s guessing whether he should’ve told me.
I’m too in my head to comfort him, though. I can’t. Not when I’m still mentally reorganizing a puzzle where the pieces were closely shaped but shoved into the wrong places. So as the glazier separates a half-dozen salvageable crystals and begins discussing the replacements needed with Linc, I step outside to catch my bearings.
A few minutes later, he joins me.
“Okay, so he said there’s about seven crystals he’s got to precision cut and shape to fit the exact specifications of the original design,but…he won’t have them finished until the morning.” Linc winces. “This was supposed to be a day trip, but what do you think about booking a hotel room for the night? We can leave first thing tomorrow,” he rushes to add.
“Sure, okay. I don’t mind.”
Linc takes my hands, his eyes searching mine. “Are you still thinking about what I said about Cornelia and my parents?”
Reluctantly, I nod. “I knew she was holding a grudge, but…”
“Listen, I honestly don’t care about that woman or what vendettas she’s harboring. My mom used to say, if you’re doing anything meaningful, people are going to come for you,” he says, inching closer. “It’s just what happens when you threaten the way things are.”
And I don’t know if it’s the somber tone of his voice or the fresh air after inhaling his pheromones for the last couple hours, or even all the alternate-timeline talk. But in this moment, everything starts to click.
All this time, I thought that I was the target, that I didn’t need anyone distracting me. But no. It’s so much worse than that. This is about her—restoring the Livingston name, yes, but also wiping out anyone who stands in her, or Julian’s, way. Me, the woman who dared to divorce her son. And Linc, the son of the woman who took everything she wanted.
We’re not just obstacles. We’re her whole damn plan.
No.
A dogged determination creeps up my spine, hot and urgent. Because screw Cornelia and her manipulation.
