Unfortunately, I was my father’s son down to mannerisms, thought patterns, and style of dress.
I was too old to change.
I was who I was.
I’d accepted the ugly truth a long time ago.
But because I was so like him, I could shield my brother and sister from him. That was my place in life. Nothing would change that. Not even their fierce independence.
Unless you go to prison.
I wouldn’t let that stop me either.
“You weren’t working.”
Beau had been behaving strangely, disappearing at odd times and seeming a bit . . . off-balance.
Her eyes rounded. “Are you watching me too?”
I pressed my lips together. Not in real time. But when she hadn’t been home at two in the morning, I’d checked the cameras at the office. To make sure she was safe.
If I wanted an answer for her whereabouts, I’d probably have more success speaking to our father.
“The city isn’t safe at those hours.”
“You were nearly arrested, yet you’re grilling me. I don’t think so, Lincoln.”
Damn it. We were not talking about that. And once we were alone back at home, there’d be no escaping her.
“You do everything by the book. Why would you even be on the feds’ radar?” she pressed.
I gripped the leash more tightly. Muffy glanced back as if he sensed my tension. At least he couldn’t ask me any questions.
“It’s none of your concern.”
“The hell it’s not,” she shouted, garnering the attention of Lexie, Eric, and Miss Adeline.
“I’d appreciate your discretion,” I said quietly.
“Did you know that was coming?”
I halted and drilled her in place with my gaze. “I would never intentionally disrupt Teague’s important moment.” And no, I hadn’t known I was under investigation, let alone they’d found enough to attempt to arrest me.
“I—” She clutched the gold chain, looking contrite. “I know that. I’m just . . . worried.”
“Don’t be.”
Eric held the elevator open for us.
“We’re not done talking about this,” Beau said through gritted teeth as she marched forward.
I pressed my lips together.
Talking to her would be worse than federal agents.
Chapter Eight
Lexie
“We have ice cream at our place. Homemade strawberry. Want to come?”
Was Eric determined to torture me?
No. My brother didn’t have a malicious bone in his body.
He’d made a new friend in Lincoln. More like he’d adopted Lincoln as his friend. I wasn’t so sure the feeling was reciprocated.
Discreetly, I shook my head behind my brother’s back. Lincoln would say no anyway, but I wanted to make sure he knew he wasn’t welcome.
Even if I’d wanted his company—which I definitely didn’t—he couldn’t come over. The apartment was a disaster. I hadn’t had time to do laundry in over a week and the sink was overflowing with dishes.
We kept our outside appearance impeccable. Inside the walls of our home . . . I did the best I could. We did the best we could.
Eric may have Down syndrome, but he was a huge help. Much more so than a burden. I couldn’t imagine my life without him. He brought joy and sunshine and kept things interesting.
Like inviting virtual strangers to our home on a whim.
The beautiful and frightening thing about Eric was that he didn’t have that exterior wall most people did. The one to protect us and make us wary of others. He treated everyone exactly the same.
Though he seemed to be taking to a certain someone I wanted to stay far away from.
“I’ve never had strawberry ice cream.”
The admission was quiet, so low I almost missed it.
Our lives hadn’t been glamorous, nothing like his. The most luxurious thing we had was the van, and it was by no means fancy.
Ice cream was simple. Something everyone could relate to.
Maybe that was why he’d never had strawberry.
The incredulousness on Eric’s face matched the expression I tried to veil. “You’ve never had strawberry ice cream?” he repeated as if that were impossible.
“No.”
I wanted an explanation. Like he was lactose intolerant or hated strawberries or didn’t eat dairy.
No. You don’t need an explanation. He hasn’t had strawberry ice cream. End of story, Lexie.
“But you’ve had ice cream, right?” I snapped my mouth closed, embarrassed the question had escaped.
“Yes.”
That was good. I guessed. Why do I care?
“Then you have to come over. Ours is the best strawberry ice cream in the universe.” My lips tugged upward at the big heart my brother had.
“Okay.”
What? No. We could bring him some or . . . shouldn’t Beau be the one to experience that with him? Not us.
“I notice I wasn’t invited.” Beau slung an arm around Eric good-naturedly.
“You know you can come,” he said, as if she were part of our family.
She might’ve been gone for a long time, but she was always welcome without invitation to our home.
“How about next week? I have some work I need to finish up,” she said.
“Promise?”
She held out her pinkie, and Eric twisted his with hers. “Promise.”
Oh, thank goodness. Lincoln wouldn’t come without his sister, so I was safe for a week.
“Thanks for the lift,” Miss Adeline said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” She grinned. “Enjoy your ice cream.” She spoke the word as if it were naughty.
“Well, I’m sure we’ll wait until Beau and Lincoln come next week, won’t we—”
“I’m free now,” Lincoln blurted.
Oh crud. You have got to be kidding.
“Oh good,” Eric said, excitedly.
Miss Adeline laughed as I hugged her. “Behave.”
“Never,” she whispered back.
“I know you’re going over there to avoid me.” Beau spoke in her brother’s ear, but I was close enough to hear.
“Can I expect you home this evening?” He glossed over her assessment like he avoided uncomfortable topics on a routine basis.
“Can I expect you?” She mocked him in a deep voice that matched his and waved goodbye as she floated out of the rescue.
“Since Lincoln is coming over, we can have ice cream before dinner, right?” Eric linked his arm through mine while we moved to the elevator.
I rarely allowed ice cream before dinner. Sometimes ice cream was dinner, but it was important to me to keep some sort of healthy structure for Eric.
“Why not?”
That meant Lincoln would have one scoop of ice cream and go.
Eric fist-pumped. “Lincoln, you’re coming over for ice cream tomorrow too.”
Chapter Nine
Lincoln
Beau was right.
I was avoiding her interrogation by accepting the invitation for ice cream.
But she was wrong too.
Because I didn’t want to disappoint Eric. And this was an opportunity to make Lexie even more uncomfortable. Something I found I liked doing.