“Is it just because it’s today that she came over?” Daisy said, her accent becoming more pronounced than ever, the way it did when she was angry but trying not to be.

“What’s the day have to do with it?” he said tiredly. “Sunday, Thursday, Tuesday, is there any good day to tell the woman that would be your mother-in-law that you’ve betrayed the daughter who’s been in the grave for less than six months by hooking up with someone else?”

“Hooking up,” she said with a little laugh. “That’s what we’re doing? And I only mentioned the timing of it because the last Sunday of every month is when you went to see Katie, and—”

Lincoln went still with shock a split second before anger took over. He clenched his hand before he could stop himself, wanting to drive his fist punishingly into the granite of his kitchen counter. He stopped himself just in time, but that didn’t stop the wave of surprise and anger.

He’d forgotten.

The last Sunday of every month.

Lincoln hadn’t even remembered. Because of her. Because Daisy had wiggled into his head, his life…maybe into his heart.

He couldn’t do this.

He had to pull back. For Katie’s sake. For his own.

Lincoln closed his eyes and fought for control. “I need you to leave, Daisy.”

And then he forced himself to open his eyes and look at her, because he owed her that, at least.

She didn’t look even a little bit surprised. She looked hollow, and maybe a little resigned, and that made it worse.

“All right,” she said calmly. “Are we talking for a couple days, so you can have some space, or are we talking Leave and don’t come back?”

He wanted to look away, but he held her gaze, begging her to understand what he couldn’t make himself say out loud.

She understood.

Daisy’s face crumpled for half a second, and his heart broke.

But she recovered quickly, lifting her chin even as he watched her beautiful brown eyes water with tears. “Okay then. Okay.”

She walked stiffly toward the front door.

Every fiber of his being wanted to cry out for her to stay, but he held it together. Better to let her go now, like this, before either of them got into this thing any deeper.

At the last minute, she turned back and walked toward him. His heart pounded with fear and hope. Her heart was in her eyes, and he refused to acknowledge what he saw there.

Daisy lifted to her toes and brushed her lips softly against his. “Be happy. Please.”

It was a good-bye kiss.

But long after she’d walked out the door and closed it quietly behind her, he wondered if it had been more than that.

He knew Daisy Sinclair almost as well as he knew himself.

He was pretty damn sure that what she’d really just told him was that she loved him.

And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

Chapter 32

TWO WEEKS LATER

Daisy planted a smile on her face as she saw Emma approaching the table at the fancy Midtown restaurant where Daisy had made lunch reservations.

She stood and hugged her sister, noting the way Emma held on just a little bit longer than the usually nondemonstrative Emma usually would. Emma was worried about her—had been ever since the Sunday afternoon when Daisy had shown up at her front door and spent the rest of the day crying her eyes out after being summarily dumped by Lincoln.

But that was weeks ago, and Emma didn’t need to worry anymore.

Daisy was getting her act together. Not her heart. That was still in pieces. But the rest of her life was coming along pretty darn well.

“So?” Emma asked, as they sat. “Are we ordering celebratory champagne or F them, they don’t know what they’re missing champagne?”

Daisy grinned. “Celebratory.”

“You got it! Congrats, Daiz.”

Just hours earlier, Daisy had gotten the call that the wedding planning company she’d interviewed with a couple weeks earlier was hiring her. It was an assistant position, since Daisy was short on experience.

But it felt right. She’d interviewed with six companies, a combination of wedding planning and general events planning, and this one had felt the best. The women were tight-knit, their brand classy and expensive.

Daisy knew she could do well.

Plus, she was holding out hope that planning other people’s weddings would ease the ache of never planning another of her own. Maybe that was fair. She’d already had her big white wedding. Sure, the marriage hadn’t lasted, but she couldn’t even seem to muster anger or sadness over Gary these days.

Because the love she’d felt for Gary paled in comparison to the love she felt for Lincoln. And the pain she’d felt after Gary hurt a hell of a lot less too.

Some days she thought maybe Lincoln had the right of it by being too chicken to love again. Maybe the risk really wasn’t worth the hurt.

“Okay, let’s get something expensive,” Emma said, looking down at the wine list. “On Cassidy.”

Daisy laughed. “Does he know it’s ‘on Cassidy’? I’m still feeling guilty as crap for leaving him in the lurch by quitting the receptionist thing like that.”

“Please, he told you to,” Emma said, waving it away. “He had some eager young whippersnapper in there by midday Monday.”

Daisy smiled gratefully, although it didn’t ease her guilt. She supposed this was why common wisdom recommended against getting involved with a coworker. She hadn’t even been able to fathom the thought of seeing him at work the next day, but she’d been prepared to suck it up.