hands off him. He steps back from me and grabs the meat off the counter.
I pout, disappointed he’s no longer within touching distance. “What are you doing?”
Snatching the fridge open, he haphazardly tosses the package in and slams it closed. His eyes are predatory as he stalks back over to me. Tingles form in my stomach and my toes curl.
“We’ll call in takeout later.” I wrap my legs around his waist and he picks me up. “Way later.”
Chapter Six
MOLLY
Dear Linc,
Today was a good day, despite the MRI I had. The kids and I surprised Lincoln by finishing painting his workshop. He started it a few days ago but had to stop when an old client of his called with an emergency. He hasn’t had the time to finish it because he’s been so swamped with the Fischer commission. I could practically see the weight lifting off his shoulders when he saw what we had done. I hate seeing him stressed and always try my best to help when I can. I think the kids ended up with more paint on their clothes than the workshop. Of course, it didn’t help when Gray accidentally-on-purpose swiped his paintbrush across Gemma’s arm, and she had to get him back. It wasn’t the shop that alerted Lincoln to what we had done, but the paint all over the kids. We had a lot of fun.
As a thank you, while the kids were cleaning up, Lincoln pulled me behind the shop and laid a long and deep kiss against my lips that practically had my panties melting. He always makes me weak in the knees. That’s one of the million things I love about him. He promised to show me more of his gratitude tonight after the kids go to bed. Even as I write this, my insides are turning to mush thinking about what he’ll do later tonight.
Will I ever get enough of him? Not just his touch, but his words and actions, even simply his presence. I know deep in my heart, I won’t. I could live a thousand lifetimes with Lincoln and still want a thousand more.
I look up from my journal when Gemma comes bounding into the room, Mr. Cuddles, her favorite stuffed bear, tucked under her arm. I set my pen and journal down on the coffee table just in time for her to jump on the couch beside me.
“Will you do my hair in French braids?” she asks, handing over the brush.
I scoot back on the cushion, spread my legs, and pat the space I’ve made for her. “Come sit.”
“Yah!” she hoots and plops down in front of me.
“It looks like we didn’t do a very good job of getting the paint out of your hair,” I remark when I start separating her hair into two sections. I carefully scrape away the paint as best as I can.
She shrugs her little shoulders. “It’s okay. It gives my hair more color than only red.”
“You don’t like your hair color?” I gently run the brush through her hair, growing envious at the thickness. She gets her hair color from me but the density from my mom.
“I do, because red is my favorite color, and it’s just like yours. I like that we have the same color.”
I gently tug her head back by her hair until I see her face. “I like that we have the same color too.” I drop a kiss on the tip of her nose.
She bounces up on the cushion and does the same to me. My Gemma is the sweetest little girl.
“Did you have fun painting today?”
“Uh huh. I wish Daddy were there with us, though. It would have been fun to have a paint war with him.”
I separate her hair into three sections and start on the French braid.
“Well, we still have the back porch to paint. Maybe we can con him into helping and getting him then.”
She giggles as her heels tap against the bottom of the couch. “We’ll have to surprise him. But we can’t tell Gray cause he’ll tell Daddy.”
I pull the hair tie from around the handle of the brush and tie off the end of her braid before working on the other side.
“What’s your daddy and brother doing?”
“Playing videos. Can I go to work with you tomorrow?”
“Hmm… yeah, I think that’ll be okay. You wanna help me doctor the animals?”
“Yep. Can I listen to their heartbeats?”
“You sure can.”
“Goodie!” She pauses a moment. “And can I play with the new kitty you