Chapter Fourteen
Lincoln paced back and forth in his living room ... if propelling oneself on crutches could be called pacing. He had managed to get down on his knees to finally clean that pizza-sauce-plastered wall and had cleaned as much of the rest of his apartment as he could manage. Not that it was messy. He liked things clean, sanitary. But he'd been lax the past few days. Especially with the sweeping, something he still couldn't manage to do. Tufts of Romper's fur blew across the hardwood whenever a breeze passed by and settled in the corners.
Lincoln went over and over the scene in his mind, the words exchanged, whatever ridiculous force had prompted him to open his mouth and tell that woman and her son to move in with him. Now, a day later, it seemed like another person must hav
