Was it wrong to crave his compliments?More?It had been three months since I’d escaped Sydney. Should I wait longer before inviting Aiden into my bed? I ached for closeness, forhonestlove, but was he searching for that, too? Maybe not. He’d warned me he wasn’t a good man…
I squeezed my eyes shut and let my mind float back to the day before. Aiden’s cautious touches. So many incredible kisses. His sighs and the reluctant way he’d eased away from me, his grey eyes lingering. He always seemed as though he was about to say something but never did.
Did he want to whisper that everything was happening too fast?
I didn’t trust my instincts. How could I? I was too needy. Too clingy. Too…Lola. But I hadn’t imagined Aiden’s tenderness. He’d called melove. I could trust that.
After one more deep breath in, I opened the door.
Aiden waited on the other side, a frown locked on the darkening sky before he turned to me. My stomach tumbled in a somersault. Words weren’t possible yet. Not when he looked so handsome and rough all at once. He’d made an extra effort, too. His dark hair was combed but had a damp shine as if he’d just showered, and he wore a white Henley and dark pants instead of his usual flannel and jeans.
I hugged the door to keep myself steady. “H-hello,” I said.
No hello in response. Aiden thrust a bottle of wine and a posy wrapped in pink paper at me instead.
“The lavender is from my place,” he said. “It grows like a weed up in the hills.” Almost groaning, his chest deflated. “I’m not…giving you weeds…” His throat bobbed on a heavy swallow. “It smells good.”
“Thank you.”
Fighting the tremble in my chin, I reached for the gifts and savoured the delicate fragrance of his hand-picked flowers.Aiden’s simple gestures touched my heart in a way Chris’s gifts never had. His guilty conscience had showered me with endless diamond baubles—lavish apologies for his busy hands and his wandering eye.
Chris thought I didn’t know about the other women. For a long time, I’d cried quietly in the shower, stung by my failure to keep him happy. For an even longer time, I’d sighed with relief when he’d slunk home smelling like another woman’s perfume…or worse. Those nights had been quiet.
I arched on my tiptoes to kiss Aiden’s cheek. “And thank you for coming.”
But my lips never landed. In a blur, he pulled me against his chest, the lavender squashing between us, his mouth melting into mine. Oh, I loved his fierce kisses. I cupped his cheek, drawing him closer in a heated, sensual frenzy.
A groan rumbled in his chest. “Lola…” He untangled himself and stepped back to put some distance between us. “I promised myself I’d be a gentleman… Treat you right… Not…” He raked a hand through his hair, jaw tight as he exhaled. “Tonight’s just dinner.”
“O-oh.” I forced a shaky smile onto my face. “Just, um…Dinner.” My dilemma about waiting had been answered for me, but I was too embarrassed to look anywhere but at my feet. “I’m roasting a chicken…and…and some vegetables… And I’m baking an apple pie.” I fumbled with the belt on my dress to make sure it was cinched extra tight.
“I love apple pie.”
I’d hoped he’d say that, but I still couldn’t force my eyes up. “It won’t take long. Please.” I gestured for him to come inside. “Take a seat in the living room. I’ll pop the lavender into some water and pour us a drink. We can try your wine…or… I made some old-fashioned lemonade.” A nervous laugh tumbled out. “Fresh lemons. Yolanda has a tree out back. She, um…” She’d handedme a bowl full and offered plenty of unsolicited tips about how to lure a man through his stomach. “Yeah.”
Calloused fingertips touched my chin. “I’d like to try your lemonade.” Aiden’s eyes crinkled with a soft smile.
This time, when he headed for the couch, no panic flooded over me. The cottage was spotless. My half-finished jigsaw had been cleared off the coffee table. No glasses were where they shouldn’t be. Every surface had been wiped over, and the floors vacuumed. Twice.
I disappeared into the kitchen. My hand still shook when I poured the lemonade.
“Hold yourself together,” I hissed at myself in a frantic pep talk. “It’sjustdinner.”
Pale yellow liquid sloshed around in frosted glasses when I walked down the hallway.
Just dinner.
After I carefully placed the drinks on the coffee table, the couch groaned as I squeezed into the narrow space beside Aiden’s enormous frame. I gasped. My thighs were flush against rigid muscles. I sat up taller, trying not to take up more room, but there was no avoiding how close we were.
“I’m sorry about the couch,” I said. “This place came mostly furnished. I’m not complaining. It was helpful because, um… I travelled light.” One suitcase was light. It wasn’t a lie. “But a lot of what was left here is quite old.” I gulped. “And small.” Far too small to be comfortable for a man his size.
“It’s cosy. It’s you.”
Just dinner.
“Try the lemonade,” I squeaked.
“Lola…”
