Page 2 of Pulse
Danielle won’t be pissed. Not for long, anyway. In the fifteen-ish years I’ve known Lincoln—since the day I left the military and Ford’s family offered me a job—I’ve realized no one can stay mad at him long.
Not even me—and sometimes I try.
“Looks like you need to strap on that second parachute and head home,” I say, winking at Lincoln when he looks up.
He narrows his eyes, but his frustration melts away into laughter. “I can’t even be pissed at you. Well done.”
“What did I miss?” Ford asks.
“I was trying to explain to him that he needs to get a life,” Lincoln says. “He needs to try new things. Live a little.”
I start to fire back that I have a life—one that I like a whole damn lot—but my phone buzzes in front of me. When I see the name, I swipe it off my desk.
“Excuse me for a second,” I say, unlocking the screen. A ghost of a smile tugs at my lips as I read the message.
Dahlia: Good morning, sunshine! I saw your truck in the parking lot. First, learn how to park. You’re supposed to stay between the lines, not have the back end halfway into the other parking spot. Don’t drive a big truck if you can’t control it. Second, can you swing by and see me before you leave?
Ford and Lincoln’s conversation fades into the background.
Me: No.
I imagine my assistant’s freckles pulling together across the bridge of her cute little button nose and the gasp she probably hissed in exasperation when she read my two-lettered response. Amusement settles against my lips.
Dahlia: Let’s not start the week off like this.
I don’t respond. Instead, I fight a smile and watch for the flurry of texts I know are coming.
Three … two … one …
She never fails.
Dahlia: I need your reports from last week.
Dahlia: And a copy of your new driver’s license.
Dahlia: You DID get your license renewed, didn’t you?
Dahlia: I set a reminder on your calendar on Friday. You can’t just ignore my reminders!
Dahlia: DAMMIT, TROY. DON’T IGNORE ME
Dahlia: I hope Lincoln is in your office and he’s driving you batshit crazy.
My tongue runs along my bottom lip as I grin.
Dahlia: My grandma always said not to use the word hate because it was too powerful, but if I could guarantee she wasn’t turning over in her grave, I’d pop it right into this conversation. Instead— I HEAVILY dislike you right now.
Me: What’s new?
Dahlia: Why do you do this to me?
Because it’s so much fun.
“Everything okay?” Ford asks.
“Yeah.” I set my phone down. “Sorry about that.”
Ford gives me a curious look, but Lincoln smirks.Asshole.
