He didn’t.

Okay then.

That was fine. Better, actually. Any more time spent with this guy, and Daisy might end up wanting things she had absolutely no right even thinking about.

She opened the door and got one foot onto the concrete before he stopped her with a single word.

“Wallflower.”

Daisy glanced back. “Yeah?”

His face was unreadable, and then he turned to stare out the windshield for several moments before looking back at her again. “Got plans today?”

“Not really. I don’t know anyone in the city, and Emma decided against a post-wedding bridal brunch, so—”

“Come with me.”

It was both a plea and a command, and Daisy somehow knew that whatever he was asking was vitally important, even though she didn’t understand it.

“All right,” she said slowly. “Do I have time to change really quick, or are you digging the pink dress?”

He smiled. “Go change. Maybe something blue so we can match like we did last night and be adorable.”

She laughed, relieved to see a glimpse of last night’s Lincoln. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Daisy got both feet out of the car this time before he stopped her again with a brief touch on the arm.

This time when she glanced back, he didn’t look away but held her gaze, his expression quiet. “Thank you, in advance.”

“You’re welcome in advance,” she said softly.

She felt a little shaky as she climbed out of the car and headed toward the front door of the hotel. Daisy tried to tell herself it was just the hangover and lack of sleep, but she was worried it was something more.

Daisy was worried that not five minutes ago, she’d wanted desperately to be alone.

And yet apparently there was something she wanted more than being alone—she wanted to be with him.

Chapter 6

Daisy had worn blue.

He didn’t know why he noticed. Or why he cared. Hell, he didn’t care. But thinking about Daisy’s blue turtleneck sweater was a hell of a lot easier than thinking about other things.

Like why the hell he was inviting her along. He hadn’t been lying when he said he only made this trip the last Sunday of every month.

Every. Month.

And he always made it alone.

Until now. Until her.

He mentally muttered a string of curses as he dragged a hand over his face and tried to sort through the confusion. He was both terrified at the thought of having company on this particular venture and yet somehow a hell of a lot calmer than he’d ever been before.

Something about Daisy Sinclair’s presence was comforting. And that very thought was disloyal—a betrayal especially on today, of all days.

“How far are we driving?” she asked, turning her head away from the window to face him.

“A little more than an hour,” he said, relieved that she hadn’t asked the much more difficult question of where they were going. “You can turn on music if you want.”

“Do you want music?”

He glanced over with a quick smile. “Depends. Do you sing Britney Spears when sober as well as tipsy?”

Daisy laughed, and he realized that her laugh was much like her voice. Lush and womanly, at least when she let it be. Other times she seemed guarded, and despite his determination to give her space, he wanted to understand her.

Which made no sense. Tomorrow she’d be gone, and out of his life, and he was…relieved?

No, that wasn’t the right word.

But some distant buzzing in the back of his brain was telling him that Daisy Sinclair was dangerous to the life he’d carefully constructed. Almost as though she made him want more…more than what he was allowed to have.

“You don’t have any videos on your phone to use as blackmail later, do you?” she asked.

“If I do, you’ll never know until I hand it over to Emma on your wedding day.”

Her laughter died abruptly, and Lincoln winced. “Shit. I’m sorry. I know weddings aren’t your favorite topic.”

“It’s all right,” she said, turning her head to look out the window again. “And actually, I misspoke last night. It’s not weddings that I don’t like. It’s marriage.”

Lincoln told himself to leave it alone. To give her privacy. But considering where they were heading, he was feeling a little vulnerable. He needed something from her in exchange. Needed to balance out their vulnerability.

“Why?” he asked.

He fully expected her to clam up or give him some saucy evasion, but she turned her face back to him, and he felt her studying his profile.

And then Lincoln had the strangest sense that she understood what he needed, because she let out the tiniest of sighs and then began to talk. “Gary and I dated for a couple years before he proposed. Then we were engaged a full year before we got married. During that time, we talked about all the things that modern couples are supposed to get out on the table. Prenups, careers, finances…children. We were on the same page with all of it. All of it,” she repeated softly.

She fiddled with her watch before continuing.

“Just a couple months after we married, I said that I was thinking about going off birth control. I know for some couples it takes a while, and I just figured…why not, you know? I wanted a baby, he wanted a baby…”

Lincoln said nothing, although he clenched his hands hard on the steering wheel to prevent the strange and unacceptable urge to reach across and hold her hand for the next part of the story.