Take Care, Sara by Lindy Zart_ 19 page

He threaded his fingers through hers, those smoky eyes never leaving hers as he declared, “You’re not leaving my sight for a very long time, not until I can convince myself you’re really here and mine, Sara. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fully convince myself of those things, so get used to seeing me. A lot.”

Lincoln’s lips captured hers before she could respond, possessing them, possessing her, telling her that she was his; telling her what she already knew. He tasted like sweetly tart lemons and sunshine and her future. The emotions coursed through her veins, pulsed through her heart, and slammed out of her with all the passion of her being. It was right; she and Lincoln; they were right. She and Cole had been right, but she and Lincoln were right as well. Cole was her past; a past she would never forget, would always hold on to, but Lincoln was her present; her future, and she would hold on to that just as tightly.

***

Days and nights went by, turning into weeks. It was mid-September and it was still in the seventies during the day in Wisconsin. The nights cooled off considerably, letting Wisconsinites know the heat wouldn’t last much longer and to enjoy it while they could. Sara and Lincoln had decided to do so by taking the pontoon boat out on the Mississippi river. Sand bars full of green foliage and trees littered either side of the vast, brown water, boats anchored near them; people and children milling in the water and sand, looking like colorful specs as they boated past.

Lincoln’s eyes glinted silver in the sunlight as he shut the engine off in the middle of the river, jumping to his feet and reaching for her. He grabbed her hands, spinning her up and around as ‘Ho Hey’ by The Lumineers blasted from the boat radio. The pontoon boat gently swayed in the Mississippi river, the sun glared down at them. Sara laughed, feeling free in Lincoln’s arms. The scent of sunscreen lingered on her skin and his. His body was hot and hard against hers; desire flaring inside Sara with the smallest of touches from him.

No matter how long she stared at him, how often she touched him; how long she was in his presence; it wasn’t enough. Sara was learning to rejoice in each minute spent with him, to live them to the fullest, because no one ever knew when it would be the last. Instead of being sad about it, she was blessed by each smile he gave her, each hug that was hers, each night spent in his arms. Sara would hold each moment close to her heart and treasure it, like this moment.

He sang to her; his voice deep, slightly rough, and beautiful.

Their faces were inches apart, brown eyes locked with gray. Sara smiled as Lincoln smiled, his fingers entangled with hers. “I love you,” she told him.

Lincoln smiled a sweet smile, leaning his head down to kiss her. “I love you. Sometimes it’s hard to believe you love me back, finally. I’ve loved you for so long, so impossibly long. I thought that’s the way it would always be; me loving you, you being clueless.”

“Hey.” She jabbed his hard stomach. “I’m not always clueless.”

“Sometimes you are.”

Sara nodded. “I suppose I can admit that.”

He grinned, saying, “It feels like a dream, a really good dream.” Lincoln caressed her face, stroked her hair. He pressed a kiss to her temple.

“If it’s a dream, let’s hope we never wake up.”

“If it was a dream we’d be having a lot more sex.”

Sara snorted, looking up at the fiery ball that was the sun and quickly looking down, spots in her eyes. “Why do you love me?”

“Why do I love you?” he repeated, a frown between his brows. “I know what I love about you. I love your hair, I love the way your brown eyes light up when you’re excited about something. Your nose, your lips. Even that small scar above your lip. The way you eat chocolate—“

Lincoln closed his eyes, inhaling slowly. “I could watch you devour a chocolate bar forever. Really. I could. There’s something so sensual about your lips kissing it, tugging the chocolate into your mouth, the way your eyes close—“ Lincoln swallowed, running a shaking hand through his hair. “It’s hot,” he ended abruptly.

Her lips parted at the mixture of pleasure and pain on his face. That’s—“ She swallowed, tried again. “That’s not what I asked.”

He grinned. “I know. But I’m on a roll. Just go with it. I love your laugh, your smile, your sense of humor, your strength. I love the look on your face when you’re painting; you look completely lost, consumed; it’s the same look you have when I’m inside you. Like you’re shattered and whole at the same time. I love that look,” he said, his eyes darkening.

Abnormally hot, even with the sun shining, Sara said, “Stop talking like that. And don’t look at me like that either.”

“Why? Am I turning you on?”

“No,” she lied. “You’re getting off subject.”

“Okay, okay.” Lincoln exhaled noisily as he visibly fought for composure. “Why do I love you,” he mused.

Sara nodded, her hands clasped loosely on his narrow hips. “What made you love me?”

“Do you remember the first thing you said to me, the first time we talked?” he asked slowly, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger, gently tugging it.

She searched her brain, seeing a baby-faced young man with laughing gray eyes and a mocking grin. “You said something about serial killers. It wasn’t funny.”

Lincoln laughed. “You’re right. It wasn’t. I said my brother wasn’t one, but you didn’t know if I was or not. Something stupid and lame like that. I couldn’t think straight when I saw you, when I realized you were the girl I’d seen walking. It was the first thing that came to mind, what Cole had told me about your encounter with him. Your comeback was something like how I didn’t know about you either.”

Sara crinkled her nose. “That’s what made you love me?”

“Nah. But you always had quick-witted retorts to counter mine. It was like we had our own language.”

“Our language of sarcasm.”

“Yeah.” He grinned, dazzling her with the beauty of it. “I always loved you; pretty much instantaneously, but that day on the river, when I realized you could be taken away from this world, that’s when I realized how much I loved you. It killed me that you belonged to Cole, but at least you were living and breathing and that was enough, it had to be enough, but the thought of you not being alive—“ Lincoln shuddered. “That I couldn’t deal with.”

“Hence the punching of Cole in the face.”

“He deserved it,” he said with a scowl.

Sara laughed. “No argument from me. He kind of did, yeah.”

The grin was back in place; the shine in his eyes. “You always understood me. I think that was it. I didn’t have to pretend with you, I didn’t have to not say what I wanted to. If I was being rude or grumpy, you called me on it. You got me. I felt alive when I was around you, Sara. I felt like I belonged when I’d never felt that before, not even with my own family. Not that anything was horribly bad or anything growing up, really. I just felt…” Lincoln shrugged. “Misunderstood.”

“Don’t forget Grandma Lena. She was pretty horrible.” Sara touched his cheek, kissing the faint smile from his lips.

“You can’t kiss me while talking about Grandma Lena,” he said with a cringe, pulling away. “It totally kills the mood, Sara.”

“I doubt that,” she said, laughing as his eyes flashed the truth of her words at her.

“I think it’s time to go back.” Lincoln turned the boat on, steering them along the river. “You completely turned me on talking about Grandma Lena. That’s almost as bad as when I met Dana last week and she eyed me up like I was her last meal.”

The wind played with Sara’s hair as she laughed, brushing it out of her eyes. It was true. Dana had enjoyed their impromptu visit immensely; maybe even a little too much if the slap she’d landed to Lincoln’s behind was anything to go by.

Lincoln glanced back at her, grinning, and everything went still for a period of time no longer than a minute, but astounding and endless in its clearness. Cole had been hers to love first, but Lincoln; Lincoln was hers to love last.

“Why do you love me?” he called above the noise of the motor.

Sara looked down at the brown waves crashing against the side of the boat as it raced along the river. Why did she love him? He’d never given up on her, he’d forced her to live, to feel; he’d taken the darkness away with his lightness. Lincoln had always been there for her, even when she hadn’t wanted him to be. His arms were home to her; his touch cherished. Lincoln was passionate and strong and good. He made her laugh. In him she found herself. Sara wanted to spend every day with him and even if she couldn’t, she’d take him everywhere with her, in her heart. Every hour of every day was not enough, would never be enough with him. Sara was stronger because of him; she was better. It wasn’t even a question; why she loved him. A better one would be a question of—

“How could I not?” she called back, telling Lincoln with her eyes all he meant to her and it was everything.

Date: 2015-04-20; view: 616