Aaron, ever the charmer, tips his baseball cap at them and winks, making them giggle like schoolgirls.
I shake my head, a smile playing on my lips.
He’s such a flirt.
“Hey, butterfly,” he says, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine. “Ready to go?”
I nod, quickly finishing the sweeping and setting the broom aside. “Let me grab my stuff.”
I hurry to the break room to collect my coat and bag, then come back out to find Aaron chatting with Mercy, who’s looking at him with a mix of amusement and approval.
“You take care of our girl,” she says, pointing a finger at his chest.
Aaron holds up his hands in surrender, but his lips twitch with amusement. “Yes, ma’am. I know better than to cross you.”
Mercy grins, then turns to me. “See you tomorrow, Pinky. Nine sharp.”
I nod and give her a quick hug. “Thank you for today. It was amazing.”
She squeezes me tight, then shoos us out the door. “Go on, get outta here. You’ve got places to be.”
I slip my arm through Aaron’s and follow him out to the truck. The cold hits me like a slap in the face, and I shiver, pressing closer to the heat rolling off of him.
“Here, baby.” He takes my bag and sets it on the floorboard before grabbing my hips and hoisting me into the cab.
“Thanks, honey.” He shoots me a wink, then closes the door firmly behind me. I watch him through the window as he walks around the hood. When he slides into the driver’s seat, he doesn’t start the truck right away. Instead, he leans across the seat and cups my face in his large hands.
“Missed you,” he murmurs, his eyes darkening as they roam over my face.
Before I can respond, his mouth is on mine, kissing me long and deep. His tongue sweeps inside, tasting me, owning me. I moan, my fingers gripping his cut as heat floods my body.
When he finally pulls away, we’re both out of breath.
“What was that for?” I ask, my voice breathless.
He shrugs, a rare smile softening his usually serious face. “Told you. I missed you.”
My heart melts.
God, he’s so sweet.“I don’t deserve you.”
He shakes his head, his brow furrowing. “You’re crazy, woman.”
The words are gruff, but I can see the emotion in his eyes. My grumpy biker’s not good with feelings, but I’m learning to read between the lines.
He starts the truck and pulls away from the curb, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on my thigh. “So, how was it?”
“It was amazing.” I smile. “Mercy’s great, and the other stylists are really nice. I even got to help with a couple of clients. Oh! And Cleo came in.”
As I ramble on about my day, Aaron listens, his eyes on the road but a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t say much, just occasional grunts of acknowledgment, but I know he’s taking in every word.
By the time we pull into the carport beside his trailer, I’ve talked myself out. The snow is falling again, light flurries that dance in the beam of the headlights.
Aaron cuts the engine and helps me out of the truck, his hand steady on my arm as I navigate the slippery ground. Once inside, the warmth of the house wraps around me like a blanket.
“I need a shower,” I announce, heading for our bedroom. After a day on my feet, I’m feeling grimy and tired.
Aaron follows me, his heavy boots thudding on the floor. I kick on the shower in our small bathroom, letting the water warm up as I start stripping out of my clothes.
