"Not quite the surprise greeting one wishes for," Lincoln groaned.  His palm pressed to his temple, fighting the painful throbs in his head.  Then the room seemed to dip. "But I do love the nightshirt."

Brooke shook her head. She crossed her arms under her chest, unintentionally giving her bust and shirt a lift.  The popping out of her hip only lifted it more giving Lincoln a nice view of her thick, shapely, creamy thighs. Her lack of knowledge casually tilted his lips into a smug smirk.

"What? I'm not here to surprise anyone! What are you doing here?"

"This..." In an instant, the smirk faded. He pointed his finger, indicating to her. "Wasn't planned?"

It made sense. Trenton was pretty insistent for Lincoln to head to his cabin despite being swamped with cases coming up. "Don't break the tradition!" was Trenton's logic.  Leena offered the excuse, "It would be great to relax, clear your head before those cases go to court." The excuses went on and on for awhile until Lincoln gave up and said he would go.  Why did they care anyway?  Seeing Brooke here, he had a sneaking suspicion.

"No!" Brooke snapped, her voice rising in volume and pitch.  "Leena reserved this rental for the weekend insisting I getaway for a change. She made all the-" Lincoln bent forward letting out a deep, bellowing laugh as he clutched his stomach.  "What is so funny?"

Forcing himself to calm, Lincoln straightened and grinned at Brooke. "This is my cabin," he stated, lips tilting into a smirk.  "It's not a rental. I own it."

"You..." Brooke began, dumbfounded.  She frowned though the pieces were coming together.  "She...and I..."

Lincoln nodded but groaned his regret.  He blindly reached out for something to grip, but the room spun again.  Brooke hurried forward to try and steady him.

"Here." She guided him to the bench seat at the foot of the bed.  Glancing at his palm, Lincoln saw he was bleeding quite a bit.  "Sit here.  I feel so guilty for hitting you."  Brooke pushed her suitcase onto the floor.  "I'll get a cloth."

Scurrying into the bathroom, Brooke retrieved a washcloth.  Lincoln heard the water running as she wetted the washcloth. The banging of cabinets alerted Lincoln of her struggle with finding the first aid kit.

"Left door of the mirror," he called out. 

"Got it."

She rushed across the room and set the supplies beside him. Lincoln watched her every move.  He fought the smirk as her brow furrowed in deep concentration while gently dabbing and wiping off the blood from his forehead.  Luckily the pressure from his hand had been enough to slow it down.  He grinned when Brooke winced for him as the hydrogen peroxide was applied.

While she was distracted opening the butterfly bandage, Lincoln reached out and laid a gentle hand on her hip.  He tugged her forward a bit between his open legs.  Brooke was so concentrated on his minor wound, she barely noticed how close they were now. Perfect.

"So..." he drawled, making circles on her hip.  "Leena made the arrangements, hmm?"  Feather light touches of his fingertips teased at the hem of her oversized nightshirt that had a picture of the Evil Queen from Snow White and the words I Run This Castle in bold letters. She was a total Disney nerd.

"Yeah," Brooke smirked, half groaning her answer as she placed a bandage on his forehead. "I guess I should've been suspicious with how insistent she was. All the arrangements she made, a key under a planter..."

"Trenton was irrefutable, too." He chuckled.  Brooke raised her eyebrows gazing down into his eyes.  "I wasn't going to come like I do every year because I've been swamped at work but Trenton insisted. When I recognized it was you in here, I knew it was set up but guessed you were a part of it considering the uhh, nightgown...dim lighting in my bedroom..."

Rolling her eyes, Brooke tried to step back but Lincoln's hold on her hip tightened. Her breath hitched, cheeks flushed and hands settled on his shoulders to steady her balance.

"You should uhm, wash your hands off," she said breathlessly.

With a glance at the dried blood on his hand, Lincoln shrugged and released his hold, allowing Brooke to step back.  He padded to the bathroom to wash his hands. When Lincoln came back into the bedroom, Brooke had just finished buttoning up a pair of pants.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he called, closing the distance between them in a few long strides.  "What are you doing?"

"Look," she huffed, hands raising.  She took a few quick steps away to give them distance.  "This was obviously a set up by Leena and Trenton.  You came up here probably to work and I came here to relax. Neither of those goals will be accomplished if we are in each other's way.  It's your house so... I'll go."

Brooke made a move again to continue gathering her things but Lincoln reached for her and spun her to face him. 

"Who said you would be in my way?" Lincoln asked, smirking deviously as his hands wandered up her back. 

"You said you came up here to work," she argued, trying to wiggle out of his hold, but it tightened.

He shrugged, the corner of his lips quirking into a smirk. "No, you said I came up here to work. Although I did bring some with me, I much prefer to be distracted," came the soft yet husky reply.  His warm hands wandered down to cup her derriere through the nightshirt.

Brooke squealed at the tight grip.  Her hips unintentionally pushed forward against his and forced Brooke to rest her hands on his broad shoulders.  The firm bulge poking at her belly made it clear what his intentions were.  Was she ready for that? She groaned inwardly at Leena who had been insistent on the "primping" throughout this week.  Waxing, mani/pedi, shopping.  It all made sense now. 

Feather light touches made patterns on her outer thighs and pulled Brooke from her questioning thoughts.  She shook her head then met Lincoln's gaze.

"You know," he continued, narrowing his eyes at her.  Turning her with him, Lincoln sat back on the bench but kept Brooke close between his knees. "I should be mad at you."

"What?" she inhaled, brows rising above widened eyes.

"You've ignored my texts." A warm hand slid to the back of her thigh, resting just above her knee. "And my calls with no reply for three weeks." His other hand paralleled the movement to settle behind her other knee.

Brooke swallowed, heart racing now that she was face to face with him calling her out on her lack of communication. Would Lincoln get mad?  Would he ask her to leave after all? She licked her dry lips before answering.

"The last few days of my break, I was really sick.  Fever, congestion, drips and everything," she explained, leaving off the part about caring for a sick Melody before she got the cold herself. "And then school started again and I-"  Lincoln quirked an eyebrow as she began to ramble.  Brooke let out a sigh, gliding her hands over his chest to settle on the sides of his neck.  "I got embarrassed because...I started so many texts to apolo-"

With a single finger pressed over her lips, Lincoln silenced her ramblings, unable to hide his smirk any longer. Brooke stopped talking. Her lips parted in surprise at his gesture.  A playful glint sparkled in his eyes.  Lincoln slowly lowered his finger, returning his hand to the back of her knee.

"You're adorable when you are nervous." Lincoln chuckled, resuming the feather light touches on the backs of her knees. This caused her to squirm as he tickled her sensitive spot.

Brooke narrowed her gaze to a fierce glare.  "Just because I'm a bit more talkative than you-"

"A bit?" he interjected, one hand gripping more firmly above the back of her knee.

Heat crawled up her cheeks to the tips of her ears.  "OK, more than a bit..."

"Mhmm."

He bit his lower lip then pulled her knee forward.  Brooke tumbled forward off balance, effectively lowering her over his lap.

Falling forward more, Brooke gripped around his neck.  Lincoln had tugged her other knee, guiding them both to bend and rest on either side of his lap.  Sliding his hands up her thighs, Lincoln cupped her ass and pulled her down to fully straddle his lap.

A soft gasp sounded from her lips.  Brooke felt the hardness through his jeans pressing through the jegging barrier.  Nervous tingles filled her belly responding to the heat of his touch.  Her eyes closed, relishing in the feel of his hand gliding up her leg.  His fingers splayed over the small of her back boldly beneath her nightshirt. The feel of his warm hand cupping her cheek made her breath hitch in delightful anticipation.

"You can always make it up to me," Lincoln whispered the offered words, letting his lips graze across her cheek.

Brooke felt his lips pull into that smirk.  Her body shuddered at the feel of his warm breath on her cheek. Unconsciously, she nuzzled her cheek against his lips, biting her lower lip when she felt the pressure of a soft kiss lingering on her flushing skin.

Lincoln slid his hand on her back down to grip her lower globe, guiding her hips to grind firmly over his hardness.  The light, breathy moan escaping her lips revealed her reserves were quickly crumbling.

"What did you..." she asked with a heavy breath. Her hips followed his steady sensual rhythm. "Have in mind?"

A deep chuckle rumbling from his chest resonated straight to her core. "I have a few ideas," he offered, peppering kisses across her cheek to her jawline until finally reaching her earlobe.  "Where did we leave off?"

"Ahh um...I forget," Brooke moaned, tilting her head to the side.  He kissed down the column of her neck.

Lincoln chuckled against her pulse between kisses, sending goosebumps littering her skin and eliciting a light, shaky moan. "Well, first we..."

Lacing his fingers into her hair's messy bun, Lincoln pulled her lips against his, capturing them in a hungry kiss of heated desire. Brooke responded instantly, scooting her hips closer to him, grinding harder against his arousal.  Curling her fingers into his hair, she held on tight.  When his tongue licked at the seam of her lips, she parted them and welcomed the duel of their tongues.

The warm hand on her hip slid across her side, down her belly, then between her legs. His fingertips lightly stroked at the cotton barrier already moist with her reaction. A soft moan echoed into his mouth from hers, lips devouring each other as his fingertip pushed harder.

Adding pressure to the central nub of pleasure, Lincoln rubbed slow circles with the pad of his middle finger, loving how Brooke buckled at the sensation, throwing her head back and inhaling a sharp breath.  He attacked her neck, sucking and kissing aggressively to match the rhythm of his finger.

Her soft, breathless sighs of pleasure told him Brooke was ready for the next reminder of where they left off.  Grinning against her neck, he dragged his lips up to her ear, nipping at the lobe. Brooke whimpered when his finger paused but she inhaled sharply, feeling him begin to push the center of her panties aside.

When her fingers curled tightly into his shirt, Brooke's heart raced and fluttered with anticipation. The ringtone of her cell phone sounded.  Both Brooke and Lincoln jumped in surprise, quickly dousing the moment like a bucket of ice water.

Brooke pushed away but Lincoln gripped her hips. The look of pleading in his eyes made her heart ache. 

"Ignore it," he whispered.  His baritone voice was filled with promise as his lips grazed hers.

Brooke squeezed her eyes closed. Her lips transformed into a tight, thin line as she sighed heavily. It could be about Melody.  She'd have to tell him this weekend.

"I can't," she whimpered, pushing off of him again.  This time Lincoln let her go.  "I'll make it fast."

"Only the phone call will be quick," he growled, grinning at her as she quickly rushed to her phone.  "Later will not be fast."

Brooke's cheeks heated at the naughty promise.  She had to steal herself and calm down for this call.  When she looked at the screen and saw the name on the caller ID, Brooke instantly regretted not ignoring the call.  Anger flooded her veins.

"What do you want?" she snarled once the phone reached her ear.

Lincoln twisted his body toward her, brows furrowed in confusion at who would be receiving Brooke's wrath.  He had a good guess.  Worry filled him but he stayed back for now.  Seeing her body shake, and not because of him gifting pleasure, made it hard to not embrace her.

Dorian tsked her through the phone followed by a dark chuckle. "Well, well, well," he groaned, way too entertained by her greeting.  "Listen to who has gotten feisty.  Is that wise when I went to the courthouse today and picked up papers?"

Brooke shut her eyes tight, her heart thumping painfully hard in her chest.  "You don't scare me," she whispered.

Hearing her hushed tone, seeing her arms wrapped around herself protectively, Lincoln finally rose from the bench. Something was wrong.

"Don't lie to me Brooke," Dorian hissed, sending chills down Brooke's spine.  She wasn't simply scared of her ex-husband.  She was terrified.

Inhaling a slow, deep breath, Brooke reiterated her question slowly and cautiously, emphasizing each word through gritted teeth. "What do you want, Dorian?" She spat out his name, swallowing the battle of bile rising up her throat. 

Hearing her ex-husband's name instantly sent Lincoln into movement.  Padding across the floor carefully, he stopped just behind Brooke and rested his hands on her arms, wanting her to feel comfort and not isolation.  She stiffened in Lincoln's hold, frozen in place.

"What do I want?" Dorian sighed. 

It sounded like he was stretching, perfectly at leisure with Brooke's discomfort.  This was the hold he actively kept on her despite being divorced for over five years.  Brooke braced herself for his childish, impulsive demands, letting silence linger which added to the sudden palpable tension.

"I want to meet with you, Brooke," Dorian delivered smoothly.

The words were faint through the phone but Lincoln could decipher what he requested.  It made his blood boil.

"No," Brooke snapped.

"We can meet at a hotel," Dorian drawled, ignoring her rejection as usual.  "You can bring some food... wear that black corset I love."

"I burned it," Brooke ground out, hot tears burning behind her shut eyelids.  "It reminded me of you!"

Dorian's dark chuckle made another surge of bile rise from her stomach. "Someone is bitter! I want to feel you beneath me again, Brooke.  God, I miss those thick thighs, squeezing as I pounded into that tight hole."

"We're done, Dorian," Brooke snapped. Her voice shook with the onslaught of tears threatening to erupt. It made her sick to think about sex with him.  The pain, the insults, the humiliation when Dorian and his dad would joke in front of Brooke about her crying after Dorian was done.

"Oh no, we're not! You will give me what I want or I'll-..."

Slowly wrapping his arms around from behind, Lincoln rested his cheek against hers, whispering softly so her tormentor wouldn't hear, "Stay strong. He can't get to you, baby."

"Who the f^ck is that, Brooke?" Dorian yelled into the phone. 

She jumped at his raised, angry tone and froze.  "No one, Dorian." Brooke turned to face Lincoln.  The hurt flashing in emerald eyes pierced into her.  "It's not your business who I am with."

"Are you f^cking him, Brooke?" Dorian yelled.  She could easily picture Dorian's crimson face reflecting his clear and dangerous anger.

"No," came her hushed response.  Brooke reached up to gently cup Lincoln's strong jaw.  It clenched under her fingers.

Lincoln frowned down at her, deep wrinkles creasing his forehead.  Brooke knew he didn't understand what she was doing.  Her number one priority would always be Melody.  If Dorian thought Brooke was seeing someone, he'd come for her daughter.  All she could do was hope that later, Lincoln would understand.

The fortunate thing of knowing how her abusive ex-husband worked was that Dorian had a textbook pattern.  Experience taught her well. Brooke now knew how to manipulate Dorian to keep herself and Melody safe. One of those things was making Dorian think he won whenever she could manage.

"Don't lie to me," Dorian seethed.  "Are you f^cking her, @sshole?" he screamed into the phone, wanting who he assumed was nearby to hear every word. "Are you pounding that p*ssy like a hammer? Huh? No one could give it to her like I can! Does she scream my name when you f^ck her?"

"Stop it!" Brooke sobbed into the phone, tearing herself away from Lincoln so he wouldn't hear the brutal words. "Stop it, Dorian!"

"Ohh, I will never stop, Brooke." His words came out smooth and calm yet menacing.  This man was insane.  "I won't stop until I get what I want!  It'll be easy because like the sl^t you are, you will cave like you always did."

"That was then! We are done!"

"I will take you to court and expose you for the f^cking sl^t you are!"

"Then call my attorney!" Brooke spat, shaking with anger, fear and embarrassment.

Frantically hitting the red end button, Brooke threw her phone toward the bed.  She buried her face in her hands, freely letting the flood of tears pour.

Lincoln watched her crumble.  He remained a few feet away, hands stuffed in his pockets since she stormed away from him.  Her ex-husband still had a firm grip on her.  It was a classic, simple abusive behavior pattern.  If Brooke didn't find a way to break away from him, the stress and anxiety could break her completely.

With quiet, cautious steps forward, Lincoln closed the distance between himself and the sobbing Brooke. She stood with her back to him, arms wrapped around her middle tightly, defensively.  Her body shook with her sobs, each one ripping at his heart.

Lincoln heard the cruel words Dorian cursed through the phone. How any man could talk like that about someone he claimed to have loved once was beyond Lincoln's understanding.  Only the lowest scum of the earth treated women like that.  It was clear that's exactly what Dorian was.  Scum.  Abusive scum.

"Brooke," Lincoln called out in a hushed, gentle tone as he reached out for her.

As soon as his fingers touched her arm, Brooke stiffened.  She went silent and leaned her body away from his touch.  Releasing a heavy sigh, Lincoln recoiled his hand to respect her obvious need for space.

"Why do you let him get to you like that?" he asked, his voice colder than intended.

Brooke's shoulders went back just before she whirled around, setting a livid glare on him.

"How can I let him get to me?" she repeated softly.  Brooke stepped toward Lincoln standing her ground.  "Do you think I enjoy him talking to me like that? Demeaning me so I feel like sh!t under his shoe? Someone low enough to scorn like trash? I never... let him do anything to me!  It was always forced! It always will be!"

"You're divorced!" Lincoln barked.  "He has no ties to you! Why do you engage with him?"

Scoffing bitterly, Brooke took a step back, flinching at his words. "You don't get it.  Unless you have been through it, you won't ever get it.  My mom didn't get it, my brother doesn't get it, Trenton doesn't even get it... Leena is the only one who does because she went through it too!"

Frowning and shaking his head, Lincoln let out a fast exhale through his nose. "If there is no reason to keep him in your life, then cut all ties and be done.  Unless you enjoy it." He spat the last part, intent on hurting her like she had hurt him during her phone call.  The denial of anything occurring between them cut him deep.

Fresh tears glistened in her eyes at his accusation but Brooke refused to let them fall.  She straightened, rolled her shoulders back and lifted her chin defiantly.

"If that's what you think of me," she spoke softly, calmly to hide her hurt and anger.  "Then I'll leave in the morning.  I won't bother you with my drama anymore."

Turning her back on him, Brooke strode toward the bed and climbed in, yanking the covers over her.  Lincoln turned on his heels and stormed out of the room, flipping the light off on his way out.

He was livid.  How could Brooke allow her ex-husband to treat her this way unless on some level she enjoyed it? If she would just explain... but why would she?  When he could've given comfort, he shot her down just like her ex did. Now Lincoln was no better than scum.

****

Full of regret at nearly 11:00, Lincoln quickly crossed the house, determined to earn her forgiveness and hear out whatever she wanted to share. When he reached the bedroom, he heard Brooke's crying voice speaking to someone on the phone. Leena's name was spoken and Lincoln knew Brooke had turned to the one person she knew would always listen and understand.

He had failed.

Dejected and now angry at himself, Lincoln left Brooke to her phone call.  Tomorrow he would earn her forgiveness. Hiding in his office, Lincoln quickly wrote a note he would leave on Brooke's nightstand then he'd sleep on the spare bed in the office.

When Lincoln returned an hour later to deliver the note in case Brooke was sleeping, he found she had cried herself to sleep.  Even closed, her eyes were puffy, undoubtedly red-rimmed from the pouring of tears.  The semi-dry streaks of tears shimmered in the dim moonlight streaming through the window.

He placed the note on her nightstand beside her phone then placed a gentle kiss on her temple. This stubborn, wonderful woman had burrowed into his heart even if she didn't know it.  He would make this up to Brooke and give her an excellent reason to cut ties with her ex.