In response, Cassidy poured him a liberal glass of bourbon, which Mitchell accepted with a shake of his head. “Okay, fine. What’s the story?”

Lincoln cracked his knuckles, a habit he thought he’d ditched back in middle school. “All right, so, it’s bad but not desperate. I didn’t have her crying on the floor,” he said with a look at Mitchell.

“Nor did I fly to Texas.” This Lincoln said with a glance at Jackson.

“Nor did I ditch her on her wedding day,” he said to Cassidy, who calmly gave him the middle finger.

“But I did screw up,” Lincoln said quietly. “I pushed her away, I hurt her. I need to undo it.”

“Fireworks,” Jackson muttered again.

“Okay, what about a quiet, sensitive apology?” Grace said.

Riley gave a dramatic thumbs-down in front of her friend’s face. “I’m with Jackson. Fireworks. Oh, or maybe you serenade her in Times Square on those bleachers. Or you can do a heart on the Empire State Building, like that movie. Or maybe a penis, make it more modern. Seriously though, what is that movie I’m thinking of?”

“Sleepless in Seattle.”

Everyone glanced over at Emma, who’d been the quietest of the bunch. Truth be told, Lincoln had sort of been avoiding her ever since things had blown up with Daisy. He adored the woman, but she was a little scary on the best of days.

And her sister having a broken heart was not the best of days.

Even Cassidy was giving his wife a wary look.

“See, Emma likes my penis-on-the-Empire-State-Building idea,” Riley said triumphantly, reaching for her third sandwich.

“Actually I don’t,” Emma murmured. “I mean, I kind of do, but Daisy won’t.”

She was speaking to Riley, but her gaze was locked on Lincoln’s, and he forced himself to hold her eyes.

“What would Daisy want?” he asked.

She said nothing.

“Please,” he said, his voice breaking just a little. “Help me.”

She smiled. “Depends, Mathis. How foolish are you willing to get for this woman?”

Lincoln felt a surge of hope, the first since Daisy had walked out of his apartment weeks earlier. “For her? All the way.”

Emma’s grin got wider. “I’ve got just the thing.”

Chapter 35

Daisy stepped out onto the porch of the Montauk rental home and inhaled the salty beach air before taking a sip of her coffee.

Emma had been right to suggest Daisy take a weekend away before starting her new job. An escape to the Hamptons had sounded like just the thing to ease the constant jitter of nerves about starting a new job in a new field in a new city.

She’d even held out hope that it might ease the ache in her chest.

Daisy had gotten in yesterday afternoon, and though the nervous jittering had subsided somewhat, the lonely ache did not.

Maybe she should get a dog.

No, not a dog. A dog would make her think of Kiwi. A cat, then. A cat she could call Wallflower…

She let out a sharp breath, her head dipping in defeat as she closed her eyes and took another long deep breath.

This has to stop. You have to stop letting every little thing come back to him.

When she lifted her head again, she felt calmer, although happier? Not so much. Was there happiness without Lincoln?

Objectively, she supposed so. Women got through breakups all the time. Heck, Daisy herself had ended a marriage.

Yet somehow, despite all the hurt Gary had caused her, her divorce hadn’t scarred like this. She was deathly afraid that her time with Lincoln had left her irreversibly damaged.

Not that she’d change it. She wouldn’t change one single thing about it. It was too precious to her.

Well, except for the end. If she could do that all over again, there’d be no end. And maybe he’d be here with her, drinking the too-sweet coffee they both preferred, and she could put a little nautical bow in Kiwi’s fur, and…

Daisy’s mug paused halfway to her face as she swore she heard the first strains of Britney Spears’s “Oops!…I Did It Again.”

She shook her head and took a sip of coffee. Yeah, she really had to get the man out of her head.

The sound didn’t stop. In fact, the song grew louder, Britney in her prime, coming through faint and poppy.

Before she could figure out the source, something soft and wet flicked against her ankle, bare between her slipper and sweatpants. Daisy yelped and jumped back, looking down to see a wagging white ball of fluff.

Now she was really losing it.

“Kiwi?” she asked, setting her mug on the railing with a shaking hand and bending to pick up the tiny dog. It couldn’t be Kiwi. It was a look-alike…

But then the dog looked up at her, and there was no mistaking the familiar face.

Daisy let out a scoff, scooping up the dog as she stood. Surely Lincoln hadn’t sent his dog to do his dirty work…

Then she saw him.

He stood several feet away from the railing, iPhone held defiantly over his head, Britney Spears blaring from the tiny speaker.

She let out a little laugh as her hand came to cover her mouth, her eyes watering.

Lincoln.

He was here.

Her hand dropped. “Are you Say Anything–ing me right now?” she called out.

He smiled, but his arm didn’t move. “Apparently,” he called over Britney. “Emma tells me it’s a thing. Joan Cusack.”

“John Cusack,” Daisy corrected with a laugh. “And yeah. Yeah, it’s a thing.”