Chapter Thirty-Five
Lucy stood in front of him, a nervous, not-quite-smile on her face. “We didn't think you'd come.”
“Why would you?”
He met her gaze, her beautiful blue-eyed gaze. She looked away. “I ... that was you that night, wasn't it? On Brunswick Street.”
Lincoln followed her gaze—Joseph talking with Rachel.
“Wasn't it?” Her hand was still on his forearm. It felt like a vice grip though she barely touched him. “I should have said something. I should have come back, but I didn't know where I'd find you, if I'd find you ... if you wanted to be found.” She paused. “I told him I didn't like it, didn't want to salsa anymore.” She let out that little uncertain laugh he used to love. “Was he angry about that.” She made her voice go deep, the same voice they used to use together to mo
