Lincoln winked and headed around to the driver’s side, and Daisy was torn between being impressed he’d read her so well, and embarrassed at having been caught.

Chapter 18

By Saturday night, Daisy was a little surprised by how quickly the week had gone. And a little sad that Lincoln’s stay in Charlotte was almost half over.

They’d developed a nice routine, the two of them. Comfortable, without ever being boring. Despite the fact that he had his own coffeepot in the guesthouse, he made his way over to the main house every morning after Kiwi did her morning business.

Together they’d have coffee—heavy on the cream and sugar for both of them—and she’d relish the chance to have someone to compliment her admittedly impressive omelet skills.

Later they’d go to her gym, where she’d gotten him a guest pass for his stay, and they’d work out for an hour before coming home and showering.

After that, Lincoln settled into the makeshift workstation he’d set up on the kitchen counter in the guesthouse, and Daisy did her usual. Putzed around the house, ran errands, grabbed the occasional coffee with Whitney. She’d brought him lunch twice, but mostly she gave him space during the day, not wanting him to think she was a little woman with nothing better to do than make roast chicken clubs for a man.

Except…she didn’t have anything better to do, and the realization was horrifying.

Daisy had never been quite so aware of how bored she’d become with her life as when she’d find Lincoln absorbed in his writing, or talking on the phone, or even throwing a ball for Kiwi, who chased it about 2 percent of the time.

Daisy didn’t have a dog. Didn’t have kids. Didn’t have a job. Didn’t even have anyone she could call, really, outside of Emma and Whitney.

In the year since her divorce became final, she’d spent so much energy relishing being alone, being sans Gary, that she hadn’t seen the lonely boredom lurking just around the corner. Hadn’t realized that when she finally started to feel safe again, aimlessness would be lurking.

The day Daisy realized she’d married a monster had been the low point of her life.

But this—the realization that she had no purpose—was a close second.

Which is why she was dressed up in a red cocktail dress, sitting at the swanky bar of a Charlotte steakhouse beside one Lincoln Mathis.

He was wearing a suit today, and though she thought her libido had recovered from the whole T-shirt/jeans thing from Walmart, she had to admit that this was a setback in her lust-for-Lincoln illness.

It was time to acknowledge that the man could wear a clown suit and still look delicious. There was no tie tonight, just a dark charcoal suit over a lighter gray shirt, open at the throat to show a rather perfect Adam’s apple.

Oh dear.

You knew it was bad when you started lusting after a guy’s Adam’s apple.

Still, she was glad she’d let him talk her into this. He’d gone out every night by himself the past week, and though they hadn’t talked details, he’d obviously had plenty of material to work with, seeing as he spent all day writing.

She couldn’t help but wonder if any of his “research” had involved the naked variety. Technically he was available now. And though she was fairly certain his heart hadn’t healed, he wouldn’t be the first guy to seek out no-strings-attached sex.

Tonight, though, he’d asked her to dinner. Said he wanted to thank her for all the meals of the past week, that he wanted a break from work.

Daisy had meant to say no.

And yet here she was.

“You’re sure you want to sit at the bar?” Lincoln asked. “Looks like they have a few tables available.”

“No, this is perfect,” she said, picking up her glass of sparkling wine.

Sitting across the table from him would feel too much like a date. This way she could remind herself what they really were: friends out grabbing fancy drinks.

“No Jack Daniel’s,” he said, nodding at her fancy flute. “Does this mean no striptease later?”

“The night is young, Mathis. The night is young. Also, you have an enthusiastic admirer at your ten o’clock.”

He didn’t even glance over as he lifted his Manhattan and took a sip. “I know.”

Daisy laughed at the casual confidence.

To her surprise, he didn’t laugh in return.

She sobered slightly as she thought it over. “I guess it must have been weird for you, back in New York. Being engaged, but without the happy promise of the big day. Did you ever think of just telling people that you were unavailable?”

“Sure, all the time. But it would have brought questions forward that I wasn’t prepared to answer. Guess I was a coward like that.”

She put her hand on his arm. “You were protecting her.”

He shook his head and glanced down at his drink. “I don’t think so. I was protecting myself. Shielding myself from the pity I knew would come from even the most well-meaning of friends. But looking back I think it was more that I didn’t want to think about it. That’s terrible, isn’t it? I actively tried not to think about the woman I loved.”

“Because it was painful.”

Lincoln dragged his hands over his face. “Sorry. Guess I’m shitty company tonight.”

“Please don’t apologize.” Her fingers squeezed his arm, and he surprised her by dropping one hand on top of hers and squeezing her hand in return, much as he had in the car that day after he’d taken her to see Katie.