could see you today.”
Linc wondered if Harry would still say that if he knew the whole story behind Marcus’s death. How Linc had let his brother down at the last minute, not been the protective older brother he’d promised to be. All Linc wanted to do right now was leave—not take a trip down Memory Lane. “Yeah, uh, thanks, Harry. And thanks again for letting us in tonight. I’ll be back to see those hammerheads. I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that. I miss seeing you. Be sure to bring your special lady, too,” Harry said, shooting Molly a smile. “And if you’re smart, my friend, you’ll get a running start on your own life before it’s too late.”
“Appreciate the advice, but I’ve got a company to run.” Linc clapped Harry on the shoulder.
“The company can run itself—”
“And my life can’t. I know, I know.”
Harry shook his head, muttered something about Linc being stubborn, then said goodbye to both of them. Once again, Linc pressed a light hand to Molly’s back as they exited the building.
This time, though, she remained stiff, unyielding, beneath his touch. As if she were angry with him.
For trying to kiss her? For something he’d said?
Everything within him wanted to ask, but he told himself it was better to leave the subject alone. Getting close to Molly would only bring them back to where they had begun. To reminding him of that temporary respite from his responsibilities. To making him want something he couldn’t have.
A family.
Tonight’s conversations with Molly had danced around the subject of children. When she’d mentioned how much she’d like to take her own child to Harry’s aquarium someday, two reactions had risen in Linc.
Worry. And envy.
Worry that she might be looking at him as a potential mate. He’d decided long ago that he was never going down the fatherhood path.
Never.
Following on the heels of the worry was an odd surge of envy. That she might someday do exactly that—with another man, and with another man’s child—bothered him more than he liked to admit.
He shoved the feelings aside. He couldn’t be envious of what he couldn’t have. Hadn’t that conversation with Harry just reminded him of the very reasons why he’d sworn off fatherhood? Better to stick to what he was good at than venture down a path he’d already failed once—
Being depended upon by those who loved him.
Outside, he hailed another cab. Once they were inside the cramped interior, Linc turned to Molly. “Listen, about what happened back there—”
“Don’t worry about it,” she cut in. “Neither of us wants to make another mistake.”
Was that how she saw that night two months ago? As a mistake?
The cab zipped down the streets of Vegas, as alive at night as they were during the day. But Linc’s mind wasn’t on the brightly lit businesses or the hundreds of people streaming in and out of the casinos and restaurants along the strip.
He was lost in memories of Marcus. Of the day he’d had to go to Marcus’s wife and tell her that the man she loved—the father of her children—had ended up in an early grave.
Because Linc hadn’t been there to stop it. Hadn’t kept his promise to be his brother’ s caretaker.
No, he’d been off enjoying himself on a vacation that was more of a week-long party. He’d been, in fact, too drunk to answer the phone when the first call came from Marcus. Had too many bourbons in him to do the one thing Marcus had asked—
Fill in on a conference call so Marcus could go to the doctor.
“I’m not feeling well, Linc. Yeah, yeah, I know. I can hear your lecture now.” Marcus had let out a short laugh. “But without you around to keep me on track, hey, I get all distracted by the fun project of the day. And today…” His voice had paused, strained, obvious pain in the next few words. “Just not feeling like myself.” He’d cursed, clearly hurting. “Anyway, uh, do me a favor, and take this meeting, will ya? Then
Linc wondered if Harry would still say that if he knew the whole story behind Marcus’s death. How Linc had let his brother down at the last minute, not been the protective older brother he’d promised to be. All Linc wanted to do right now was leave—not take a trip down Memory Lane. “Yeah, uh, thanks, Harry. And thanks again for letting us in tonight. I’ll be back to see those hammerheads. I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that. I miss seeing you. Be sure to bring your special lady, too,” Harry said, shooting Molly a smile. “And if you’re smart, my friend, you’ll get a running start on your own life before it’s too late.”
“Appreciate the advice, but I’ve got a company to run.” Linc clapped Harry on the shoulder.
“The company can run itself—”
“And my life can’t. I know, I know.”
Harry shook his head, muttered something about Linc being stubborn, then said goodbye to both of them. Once again, Linc pressed a light hand to Molly’s back as they exited the building.
This time, though, she remained stiff, unyielding, beneath his touch. As if she were angry with him.
For trying to kiss her? For something he’d said?
Everything within him wanted to ask, but he told himself it was better to leave the subject alone. Getting close to Molly would only bring them back to where they had begun. To reminding him of that temporary respite from his responsibilities. To making him want something he couldn’t have.
A family.
Tonight’s conversations with Molly had danced around the subject of children. When she’d mentioned how much she’d like to take her own child to Harry’s aquarium someday, two reactions had risen in Linc.
Worry. And envy.
Worry that she might be looking at him as a potential mate. He’d decided long ago that he was never going down the fatherhood path.
Never.
Following on the heels of the worry was an odd surge of envy. That she might someday do exactly that—with another man, and with another man’s child—bothered him more than he liked to admit.
He shoved the feelings aside. He couldn’t be envious of what he couldn’t have. Hadn’t that conversation with Harry just reminded him of the very reasons why he’d sworn off fatherhood? Better to stick to what he was good at than venture down a path he’d already failed once—
Being depended upon by those who loved him.
Outside, he hailed another cab. Once they were inside the cramped interior, Linc turned to Molly. “Listen, about what happened back there—”
“Don’t worry about it,” she cut in. “Neither of us wants to make another mistake.”
Was that how she saw that night two months ago? As a mistake?
The cab zipped down the streets of Vegas, as alive at night as they were during the day. But Linc’s mind wasn’t on the brightly lit businesses or the hundreds of people streaming in and out of the casinos and restaurants along the strip.
He was lost in memories of Marcus. Of the day he’d had to go to Marcus’s wife and tell her that the man she loved—the father of her children—had ended up in an early grave.
Because Linc hadn’t been there to stop it. Hadn’t kept his promise to be his brother’ s caretaker.
No, he’d been off enjoying himself on a vacation that was more of a week-long party. He’d been, in fact, too drunk to answer the phone when the first call came from Marcus. Had too many bourbons in him to do the one thing Marcus had asked—
Fill in on a conference call so Marcus could go to the doctor.
“I’m not feeling well, Linc. Yeah, yeah, I know. I can hear your lecture now.” Marcus had let out a short laugh. “But without you around to keep me on track, hey, I get all distracted by the fun project of the day. And today…” His voice had paused, strained, obvious pain in the next few words. “Just not feeling like myself.” He’d cursed, clearly hurting. “Anyway, uh, do me a favor, and take this meeting, will ya? Then
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