Page 90 of Housebroke

He scooted his chair around, then hers, so they were facing each other, her legs pinned between his thighs. “No, I mean it doesn’t make sense in that I’ve never known anyone who has bigger feelings than you, Hazel. So if this is you with your emotions repressed, I’d sure as hell like to see you with full feelings.”

“Oh.”

She realized her one-word answer didn’t suffice in relation to his thoughtful, beautiful words, but she didn’t know how to respond to Linc, to her own overwhelming thoughts, and to her—yes, fine—feelings about all that he had said. Admitting some of those things to herself would be painful, might tear her apart. But Linc seemed to actually know her heart.

Could she trust that? Could she trust how she felt about him?

She’d trusted Andrew, once, and look where that had gotten her.

It was obvious that she knew nothing about love.

So what was she going to do about these burgeoning feelings she had for Linc? Stuff them deep inside and pretend they didn’t exist?

Yes. Let’s do that. We’ll be safer that way.

Her inner voice was probably right. Better to be safe than to be hurt again.

Linc might be hot and gorgeous and kind and generous, but she had to guard her heart. At least until she reached the point where she could trust herself and her instincts again.

And who knew when that might be.

Maybe never.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Hazel was being weird, and Linc didn’t know what was going on with her. Hazel was being neither dark nor cranky. She was being polite and quiet, not her normal perky and funny self.

Since the guest bathroom had been finished, she’d moved back into the guest room, declaring without a word that she lacked interest in sharing his bed. Admittedly, that had hurt, but that was her choice to make, so he went with it, though he intended to talk to her about it.

Soon.

Coward.

Pretty sure I’ve told you to fuck off.

But he had been busy finishing off the main bath, and the appliances had come in, so he’d dived right into that project as well, keeping him working from sunup to sundown most days. And Hazel had been spending a lot of time with her sister and the kids, so they’d been mostly ships passing in the night the last week. Though she’d made sure to leave him prepared meals, which he’d told her she didn’t need to do and she’d told him with a benign smile that was her job and she was going to make sure he stayed well-fed.

Having his stomach filled was the least of his worries at the moment.

He needed some advice. Eugene was useless since he wouldn’t know a good relationship with a woman if it smacked him across the face. He made himself a tall glass of ice water and sat outside, watching the dogs busy themselves by sniffing things in the yard.

He pulled out his phone and punched Warren’s number.

“Hey, what’s up?” Warren asked.

“Not much. How are you and Joe?”

“We’re good. I think we’ve found a surrogate.”

“No shit, really?”

“Yeah. She just got her bachelor’s degree in economics and wants to get her master’s and then a PhD. But she doesn’t want a mountain of debt, and she really wants to help us. She’s smart as hell, Linc, and articulate and has done all her homework on surrogacy. She’s not at all interested in having a kid of her own—at least not right now.”

“She sounds kind of perfect.”

“Yeah, let’s hope so. We still have quite a few hoops to jump through, but hopefully this will work out.”

“I really hope for you and Joe it does. You’ll both make amazing dads.”

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