Beyond Definition (11 page)

Lincoln interrupted my thoughts. “Listen Chloe, I know you said you weren’t going to give me your number, but if I don’t ask, I’ll always regret it." Lincoln had a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he waited for my answer.

For a second I imagined giving him my phone number. Maybe I would wake up to a good morning text from him, and he could call me and we would spend time together doing fun things. But then reality stepped in and snapped me back, and my smile faded. Nothing in that scenario would happen. I hadn’t even given him my real name, for Christ's sake.

Lincoln must have seen me floundering in my decision. “I promise I’m a stand-up guy,” he said quickly in an attempt to persuade me. “I have a decent job… I own my own house… I’m nice to kids and small animals... I pay my taxes… Do you want me to keep going?” He nervously laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

I smiled sympathetically. I appreciated his attempt, but there was only one way this could end.

“Look, I’m sure you’re a great guy, but I just can’t.” I tried to say it gently.

Lincoln's smile faded, but he nodded in defeat and then dumped his cup of hot chocolate down the front of my pretty white coat.

Chapter Two

I saw it a second before it happened. An adorable little girl with blond curls had been playing with the other kids. They were chasing each other around the tent after the parade ended. The girl went to make a circle around where Lincoln and I were standing but was knocked sideways by an older boy as she ran past Lincoln. The little girl collided with Lincoln’s leg, causing his knee to buckle and his balance to shift forward. His upper body pitched forward, and hot chocolate erupted out of his Styrofoam cup, splashing all over my chest.

In the back of my mind, I registered that this man had probably just ruined my coat with his chocolately drink, but my only concern was the little girl who was now sitting on her bottom on the ground with her lower lip quivering.

I didn’t even hesitate. I immediately crouched down on one knee and in my most calming voice asked the little girl if she was all right.

She turned her bright eyes shining with tears up to me. “I FELL ON MY BOTTOM!” she howled and burst into sobs. She raised her arms in a ‘pick-me-up’ motion, but I was unsure if I should comfort the child. I didn’t know who this little girl was or to whom she belonged, but she needed comforting. I scooped her up and propped her on my hip. She immediately wrapped her arms around me and buried her head into the crook of my neck and continued sobbing.

“Your coat," I heard Lincoln say as he offered me a small stack of napkins. I took the napkins but used them to dry the tears on the little girl’s face.

“Hey, you’re all right, aren’t ya?” I said to the little girl who had stopped crying and was currently rubbing her eye with her fist. She nodded slowly. “My name’s Jillian. What’s yours?”

The little girl told me it was Bianca.

“Well, Bianca, which one of these pretty ladies is your mommy?”

Bianca pointed at a lady who I could see had just spotted us through the crowd and was quickly making her way over.

“Oh, my gosh. What happened?” Bianca’s mother asked as she took Bianca out of my arms.

“I fell on my bottom, Mommy," Bianca told her mother.

“She got knocked over by one of the older boys. But I think she’s okay," I said with a smile. The little girl smiled shyly back at me and I reached up to caress the girl’s head. The mother thanked me and then disappeared with Bianca back into the crowd. I was left smiling after them.

“Jillian?” I heard my name from behind me and remembered Lincoln had been standing with me. Embarrassment flooded through me. I turned to look at him and saw the hurt in his eyes. “Jillian suits you better,” he said while looking away from me. He cleared his throat with a small cough. “I brought you some sparkling water and napkins if you want to try to get the chocolate out of your coat. Otherwise I can pay to have it dry-cleaned. Or buy you a new one. I should probably just buy you a new one. Would three hundred be enough? Or we could go shopping together…but then you’d have to give me your number, and you clearly don’t want to do that. ”

“Lincoln,” I said, interrupting his rambling. “It was an accident. Accidents happen. Don’t worry about it.” I took the napkins and started to attempt to clean myself up to appease him but realized most of it had soaked in, probably ruining the coat. But there was no way I was telling Lincoln that.

“Please let me replace it," Lincoln pleaded.

“No, it’s fine. Really," I protested again.

Lincoln exhaled sharply. “Look. You clearly don’t want to spend time with me, which is your decision, but you will at least let me pay for your coat.”

The anger in his voice surprised me. Why would he be angry? I was the one with a chocolate blob down the front of my coat.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I gave you a fake name, okay? It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you. I just… can’t. Trust me. It’s better this way.” I wanted to explain to him that it wasn’t him. It was my issues. But even I knew that sounded lame without a detailed explanation, and I wasn’t about to open up that much.

“Patrick’s?” Lincoln asked without changing his expression.

“What?” I asked, confused. I almost turned around to look for a man named Patrick. But then I saw the corner of Lincoln’s mouth curving upward in a smile.

“Patrick’s,” Lincoln repeated. “It’s a bar not too far from here. I’m supposed to meet some friends there after the parade. Would you like to go with me?”

I shook my head in confusion. “Lincoln, I can’t go to a bar with you. Didn’t you hear what I said?” How was he not getting this?

“Why not? You said, and I quote, ‘It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you’. Which means you DO want to spend time with me. Despite whatever reasons you may think you have to not go with me, I am asking you to go to the bar with me. One drink, on me. An apology for the hot chocolate.” Lincoln waited for my answer.

“I can't — ” I started to say but Lincoln interrupted.

“Yes, you can,” he said stubbornly.

“I don’t —” I tried again.

“Yes, you do," Lincoln interrupted again, but this time he held his hand out for me. I looked down at it and then back up at his face. His eyes were hopeful and confident and so damn sexy.

“Can I borrow your scarf?” I asked.

“What?”

“Your scarf. Since you’re the one who covered me in hot chocolate, if you’re going to force me to go to a bar with you, you could at least give me your scarf to cover the stain," I said teasingly.

Lincoln’s smile broke out, and I felt myself smile involuntarily in return. He unwrapped his scarf from around his neck and handed it to me. I took it, situated it around my neck, and draped it down my coat. It hid the majority of the stain and the rest would be difficult to see in a dark bar. Lincoln extended his hand again and this time I took it as he started leading me toward the exit of the tent. When Lincoln wasn’t looking I pulled the scarf up to my face and inhaled deeply. Damn, he smelled amazing.

~~~~~~~~

Lincoln and I walked into Patrick’s bar with our hands still joined. It felt awkward to hold his hand, considering I had just met him, but it would have been more awkward to pull my hand free. Besides, it felt nice and warm.

The parade had ended only an hour before midnight. By the time we left the tent and made our way through the crowd, there was only a half hour left until the New Year arrived.

Patrick’s was packed with people in various stages of alcohol impairment. There were sure to be more than a few people who wouldn’t remember ringing in the New Year. But for the most part, everyone seemed to be well behaved and having fun, just extremely loud and boisterous.

People were dressed in various paraphernalia to help usher in the New Year. Hats, tiaras, colorful feathered boas, and goofy, glowing plastic glasses with the numbers for the New Year on them all added to the party atmosphere.

The men drank beer and shouted insults at other men while flirting with the women. The females in the bar laughed and gossiped with each other and either welcomed or fended off the advances of the latest drunk to hit on them. Everyone was happy and celebrating, and it made me smile.

It had been a long time since I had been out having fun with other people. It’s not like I was a hermit. I had fun at work with my coworkers, but I didn’t have anyone other than my family who cared to spend time with me doing fun things.

A sense of dread inched into my mind, making me question why Lincoln would want to spend time with me. I reminded myself he was just trying to apologize for covering me in chocolate and I felt silly for reading too much into this.

“Is this all right?” Lincoln asked, looking down at me and squeezing my hand. I didn’t know if he was referring to the bar or to holding my hand but I gave him a small smile and nodded. Lincoln led us toward the back corner of the bar. The area was crowded, and several tables had been pushed together.

A man stood up on a chair and bellowed over the crowd in our direction. “LINC!!! OVER HERE!!!” He jumped off the chair and gave Lincoln a strong one-armed man hug. “You finally made it!! Ken’s been here for a half hour already! What took you so long?”

Lincoln looked back at me and pulled me forward as if I was the answer to the man’s question.

The man looked at me with surprise and then grinned at Lincoln and slapped him on the shoulder. “You dog. Does this mean I don’t get to be your New Year’s kiss at midnight?” They burst out in laughter.

“Dude, I’d have to be rip-roaring drunk before I kissed you, and even then I’m sure I could find something better like a bag full of used jock straps!” Lincoln said and laughed along with the man. Lincoln raised his hand up and shouted for the group’s attention. “Everyone! Hey! This is Jillian!” Lincoln announced as I shyly tried to hide behind him. Most of the group waved to me and shouted words of greeting before going back to their conversations. It seemed everyone knew each other, but there were definite cliques within the group. Lincoln leaned down and spoke quieter, directly in my ear. His closeness and breath against my cheek made me shiver.

“This perv is Deacon.” Lincoln motioned to the man who had wanted to kiss him at midnight but who was now talking to a pretty redhead. “He’s on the team with me.”

I pulled away from him slightly and looked at him, confused. “Team?” I asked.

“Um… yeah. And that’s my sister, Kennedy," Lincoln said, not stopping to clarify my confusion, and pointed to a woman on the other side of the table. “Most people call her Ken or Kenny…” Lincoln trailed off as I took several small steps backward away from him. Oh shit. “Jillian, what’s wrong?” he asked, looking at me with concern.

“Kennedy and Lincoln. And you have a brother, Carter?” I asked as the pieces of the puzzle fell together. Lincoln nodded with a sad but concerned look on his face. I pulled my hand out of his. “Your father is Senator Monaghan, right? You’re Lincoln Monaghan? THE Lincoln Monaghan??”

Lincoln exhaled, obviously frustrated, and asked, “Will you let me buy you that drink before you freak out? Please?”

I shook my head and looked down. My emotions were getting the better of me. This was not good. I couldn’t be involved with any guy, especially Lincoln Monaghan.

Lincoln grabbed my arm and pulled me with him as he walked toward the bar. When we were a safe distance away from his friends, I dug my heels in and refused to go any further with him. He stopped and turned back to me. “All right. Go ahead.”

“Go ahead?! Go ahead with what?!” I said while trying not to freak out.

“Go ahead with your freak-out. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” Lincoln said sadly. I stared up at him. What did he mean, he’d heard it before? I highly doubted this gorgeous man had ever had a woman refuse him as I was about to. He couldn’t know what I was about to say yet he had a resigned look on his face as if this was inevitable.

Before I could start my list of all the reasons why I should walk out of the bar right now, Lincoln started talking. “I was just hoping we could get to know each other before you realized who I am.” He looked so sad.

“I don’t understand,” I admitted to Lincoln. That’s not what I expected him to say.

“You don’t understand why I wouldn’t want you to know who I am?” Lincoln asked doubtfully. “I barely convinced you to let me watch the parade with you. Would your reaction have been the same if you knew who I was then?”

I realized he meant he didn’t want me to think of him as Lincoln Monaghan, the senator’s son, the professional hockey player, and the celebrity.

“That doesn’t really have anything to do with anything, Lincoln. I didn’t know who you were, and I didn’t think we should be together, and it’s even clearer to me now. I should go.”

“Go??” he asked, confused. “Why would you go? We just got here.”

“Lincoln…” I didn’t want to try to explain this to him in the middle of a bar.

“I owe you a drink," Lincoln said, interrupting me. “And an apology. And I’m not letting you leave without either one.” His face was serious but friendly. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t taking no for an answer, but he wanted me there and would not be happy if I left. I nodded and walked toward the bar with Lincoln following behind.

The bar area was swamped, but Lincoln quickly made his way up to the edge and ordered a beer for himself and asked me what I wanted. I scooted in closer to the bar and shouted for a peach sunrise. The bartender turned to make my drink, and I looked up at Lincoln for approval with a smile. He was smiling down at me, and my stomach fluttered slightly.

I felt pushed from behind, and I stumbled into Lincoln’s broad chest. Turning my head, I saw people harmlessly trying to push their way closer to the bar. I looked back up at Lincoln, unconcerned, and I realized just how close to him I was. I pressed into his chest, and he put his arm around me protectively and drew me even closer while eyeing the crowd behind me.

Those dang butterflies fluttered in my stomach again, and I longed to wrap my arms around his waist. I was surprised to realize I wanted to feel his muscular body against mine and the scruff of his beard against my face. I focused on his lips as he looked down at me. A serious and heated look crossed his face, and I wanted nothing more than for him to grab me and pull me close and press his soft lips against mine. And it seemed like he was looking at me with the same thoughts.