Remi wished for the sticky floor of the movie theater to open and swallow her whole. Linc must think her the world’s biggest nincompoop, as her grandmother was fond of saying. She tried to sweep the scattered popcorn off his lap. When her fingers trailed over the thick denim of his fly, she snatched her hand away like she’d been scalded.
First, she’d made a fool of herself with her overactive startle reflex, then spilled popcorn all over him, and now she was copping a feel. She should have taken the broken pipe as a sign and skipped movie night. She could imagine Linc wishing she’d done exactly that.
Instead, she’d replaced the pipe in record time. Her father would have been proud, although he also would have laughed at her motivation.
“I was getting full anyway,” Linc said close to her ear, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
“I’m so sorry.” She ordered her nerves to calm, unsure whether she was reacting more to the movie or being so close to Linc in the dark theater. Surrounded by coworkers, she inwardly reminded herself.
She sat back in her seat, prepared to endure the rest of the horror film like a non-sissy adult, only to realize that Linc’s arm had come to rest on the back of her seat. His fingertips traced circles on her shoulder as she relaxed against him.
“Remember, it’s all fake,” he told her. She didn’t want to believe anything about this moment was less than completely real. How often in the past few years had she gone to the movies with a friend or her mother and seen couples cuddling? She’d imagined Linc next to her just as he was right now.
Chances were good that he was only comforting a nervous friend. As usual, Remi’s imagination had a mind of its own. She even managed to shift a little closer without being too obvious.
The movie had an over-the-top plot about a boy who’d gone missing from summer camp decades earlier and was now terrorizing modern-day camp counselors in various clichéd—but shocking for Remi—ways. In the warm cocoon of Linc’s embrace, she made it through two more startling death scenes with only a subtle flinch.
“I’m proud of you,” he said against her hair. Was it her imagination, or had he also moved closer?
She could feel the heat of him and smell the scent of his clean soap mixed with buttery popcorn.
She wore a bulky sweater, but her skin seemed to tingle where their arms touched.
“It’s not so bad, is it?” he said as the movie progressed.
“It’s amazing,” she responded, earning a low chuckle from Linc. Did he realize she was talking about the two of them and not the movie?
She barely registered the action on screen, acutely aware of the connection that seemed to be intensifying between her and Linc.
Turning her head to meet his gaze, Remi saw that his green eyes were filled with a heat she’d only dreamed of.
He said her name like it was a revelation. As if he was finally noticing her in the way she’d always wanted him to.
Her gaze strayed to his mouth and his full, perfect lips that had been wasted on a man. But they weren’t wasted if he was about to kiss her. He leaned in so close their breath mingled. He was definitely going to kiss her.
Remi made the mistake of glancing at the screen at the exact moment the knife-wielding villain jumped at the movie’s protagonist, and she practically leaped out of her seat and screamed.
Alana grabbed her hand, and Linc pulled away.
“You are freaking me out, girl,” Alana admonished. “I’m going to pinch you every time something scary happens. Otherwise, I’m going to pee my pants by the time this movie is over.”
Remi struggled to catch her breath, which she knew was more a result of what had almost occurred between her and Linc than the movie. Almost because she’d messed up the whole moment.
As she looked in his direction, Linc rose from the seat. “I’m going to grab a soda. You need anything?”
“No.”
He turned and headed up the aisle. Remi wanted to follow—to apologize, explain, and most importantly, to find out if she’d imagined that almost kiss. But Alana still held her hand, gripping tightly as the music signaled another terrifying scene on the way.
Even if Linc had been lost in the moment, Remi had ruined it. As the body count mounted on-screen, the seat beside her remained empty, and it felt as though her heart was just as abandoned.
Linc returned as the credits rolled. The lights went up in the theater, and her coworkers surged forward to thank Linc for the evening of entertainment.
Plans were made to head over to the local bar, but Remi excused herself and headed for her car. She’d been content to be Linc’s friend for so many years. Why did it have to change now?
Tears threatened as she shoved her key in the ignition. She watched the group exit the theater and head down the sidewalk. Allison, one of the newer cashiers taking a semester off from college to make money, walked next to Linc. Their arms brushed, and the extroverted newcomer smiled up at him, then laughed at something he said.
For all Remi knew, he was telling Allison about what he’d endured trying to keep Remi from losing it during the movie. Her heart sank as she watched him put an arm around Allison’s shoulder, much like he had with Remi earlier.
It convinced her that the moment they’d shared had been in her mind.
She banged the heel of her palm against her head and commanded herself to start living in reality. Linc hadn’t been interested in her when he was a regular guy. He certainly wouldn’t be now, considering he was wealthy beyond what she could imagine and had the Fortune name to open new doors.
Swallowing back tears, she put the car into gear and headed for home and her books. At least a good story never let her down.
Linc got out of his truck in the GreatStore parking lot later that week, wondering when he’d become such a glutton for punishment.
“Where’s the Ferrari?” Alec asked as he walked toward him. “I thought you would have sent this heap to the junkyard.”
Linc held his hands over the driver’s-side mirror. “Don’t listen to him. You are gorgeous.” He grinned at his friend. “I’m here for some shelves, so I needed more cargo room than a sports car gives me.”
Alec rolled his eyes. “You don’t like being recognized in town because it makes you feel like a celebrity. You can’t fool me.”
Linc sighed. “I feel like a celebrity and not in a good way. Would you believe I’ve gotten calls from ten people in my graduating class since they found out about the inheritance? I’ve never had so many offers to go out to lunch or skeet shooting. One guy suggested we head to Cabo for the weekend because he saw on TV that they’re doing a wet T-shirt contest at one of the bars. He thought I would fly him to Mexico to ogle women in see-through shirts.”
“Clearly not somebody who was a close friend of yours in high school,” Alec said with a laugh. “Otherwise, he would have known that wouldn’t be something you’d go for.”
“Who’d go for that?” Frustration at his current circumstance pounded through Linc. The inheritance was supposed to give him freedom. Instead, he barely left his house for fear of being waylaid by people who wanted something from him. “Why would I spend my money that way?”
“Word’s gotten out on exactly how much money you inherited.”
“Nobody knows how much money I inherited other than my family.”
“True,” Alec agreed as they started toward the front entrance. “You might want to share the details with your closest friends. Paul and I have a wager on how many zeros were included.”
“I’m not telling you.”
“I figured as much. It’s fine so long as you don’t tell him, either.”
“Trust me. It’s better that you don’t know. People can’t try to get the information out of you.”
“A few already have.” Alec shrugged and looked at the ground. “Mostly, they’re going after Remi. You’d think half the town of Chatelaine made a New Year’s resolution to start a book club based on the number of people meandering through her section. A lot of them want to pump her for info on you.”
“What are you talking about?” Linc demanded, anger on Remi’s behalf pounding through him along with a strange surge of protectiveness. “Why would anybody bother Remi to ferret out details about me?”
“Because you like her.”
“I like a lot of people.”
Paul waved from the side of the loading dock, where he supervised a flatbed of merchandise coming into the store.
Alec waved him over. “Settle a debate for us, man. Can you guess why people are trying to get to Linc through Remi now that he’s a hot commodity?”
“He was a hot commodity before,” Paul said, pointing at Linc. “No offense, but I never understood your appeal with the ladies. You’re good-looking, but you’re boring as hell.”
Linc felt his mouth drop open. “I’m not boring. I never was boring.”
“Remi likes boring.” Alec gestured toward Paul, who nodded in agreement.
“Remi and I are friends,” Linc insisted. “There’s no reason for anyone to invent something more between us. It’s not true.”
“Only because you won’t man up and ask her out,” Paul told him.
“Why am I friends with the two of you? There are plenty of people in town I can hang out with and not get this kind of grief.”
“They only want you for your dollar bills. I saw Cooper the other day.” Paul winked. “He agrees with us.”
“I’m going to drive over to Corpus Christi to get the shelves I need or have them delivered. That way, I won’t have to listen to this nonsense anymore. My brothers know I’m not planning to settle down.”
“Who’s talking about settling down?” Paul countered.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Alec agreed, rolling his dark eyes toward the pale blue winter sky. “You could take her to dinner—and not with a sorry excuse about needing help picking out a car. Who needs help spending money on a Ferrari?”
“It wasn’t a bogus reason, and she was a huge help.”
“Because you like her.” Paul gave Alex an annoying high five. “He might be rich, but we’re smarter.” He turned back to Linc. “It’s dinner. Ask her to dinner.” Paul spoke at a measured pace, as if Linc would be slow to catch on.
That wasn’t exactly untrue.
“Have a good time,” Alec told him. “Live a little. When was the last time you wined and dined a woman?”
“That’s not my style.”
“So get a new style. Also, it would help if you worked on a wardrobe upgrade,” Alex said. “Those sneakers have seen better days.”
“I’m leaving. Forget it.” Linc had a feeling his current aggravation might have something to do with his friends being right, but he wasn’t about to admit it. “What time do you guys get off?”
“Six,” Paul told him.
Alec nodded. “Me, too. Want to watch a game tonight?”
Linc shook his head. “No. I’m coming back to the store to buy shelves when you two aren’t here, so you won’t bother me.” He opened the door of his truck to climb in.
“Ask her out,” Paul called. “Don’t be a chicken.”
Without turning, Linc raised one hand and flipped them a different kind of bird.
He got in his truck and headed for...well, he wasn’t sure where to go. The shelves were supposed to keep him busy for the afternoon. But he wasn’t going to take that kind of grief from anyone. What did his friends know anyway?
He and Remi were fine as friends. It was comfortable. Easy, uncomplicated. No significant effort or responsibilities needed.
He hated that it made him sound like his father, the last person he wanted to take after in life. Even more, he hated the thought that people might be bothering Remi to get to him.
He would have to talk to her about it. Maybe over dinner. Friends had dinner together, and despite what Paul and Alex believed, friendship was all he had to offer Remi.