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“I’ve enjoyed spending time with you tonight,” he said, turning so his body was facing hers. “I’d like to get to know you a bit more – as a friend. I know you’re not ready for anything else, and that’s okay by me. Can I call you some time? Maybe take you out somewhere?”
Brooke hesitated. In spite of his words, she really didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.
“I’ll tell you what,” Alex said gently, as though he’d noticed her obvious reticence. “I won’t push you this time. But think about it, okay? And when I see you again at a function somewhere maybe you’ll have a different answer.”
She tried to hide her sigh of relief. Disappointing people was never easy, especially when they were being as nice as Alex. “That sounds like a good plan.”
“That wasn’t a no,” he said, smiling at her, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “So I’ll take it as a win.” He leaned down, brushing the hair from her face, and pressed his lips against her cheek. “Good night, Brooke. Sleep tight.” He turned and walked back down the path to the house, stopping to give her one last wave before he disappeared into the distance. She stared out into the empty night for a moment, before pulling her keyring from her satin evening purse and running up the stairs to her front door.
But before she could slide the key into the lock, somebody stepped out of the shadows.
10
“Brooke?”
“Wha—? Oh my God.” She stumbled on the top step, her high heels giving out beneath her. The figure reached out to steady her, his palm on her bare arm. As she lurched to the left, her hip smashed against the wooden stair rail, and for a moment she thought she was going to tumble right over the top. But he was holding her tight, pulling her to his chest, steadying her with the sheer force of his body.
Aiden’s body. Damn.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered, her eyes widening at the sight of him. “It’s late.”
He looked down at her, scanning her dress, her bare legs, her high heels. Deep beneath his whiskey colored eyes, she could see something flash.
“Who was that?”
“Who was who?” He was still holding her. Was that right? Shouldn’t she want to pull away from him? And yet there was something so deliciously warming about the way his hands were on her waist, his fingers digging deep so she could feel him through the fabric of her dress.
“That guy. Mr. Perfect. The one with the immaculate helmet of hair.”
She wasn’t going to laugh, not even if Alex’s hair was unnaturally flawless. Like an astroturf field. It looked like hair, it felt like hair, yet it was too… yeah, perfect.
“Is he your boyfriend?” Aiden asked.
That took the wind right out of her sails. Any amusement she’d had suddenly vanished. She stepped back, out of his grasp, and watched as his hands fell down to his sides. “That’s none of your business.”
“Of course it’s my business.” Aiden shrugged. His eyes did a little movement again, as though he was checking out her legs. “I expect your mom and dad adore him, don’t they? Bet he has a great job, and a 401k, and knows all the right people at the Beach Club.”
Brooke licked her lips. They felt unnaturally dry. “What are you doing here?” she asked again, avoiding his question with one of her own. “How did you even get in?”
The corner of his lip lifted up. “You tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine.”
“You know what? I don’t care.” She pushed past him, searching in her small silver purse for her house key. “It’s been a long day and I’m beat. I want to go to sleep.”
“I came in the same way I used to.”
That got her attention. She turned back, him only a few feet behind her. He was wearing dark pants, a white shirt, and a watch which must have cost thousands. The daughter of Martin and Lillian Newton knew quality when she saw it. “You climbed over the tree?”
“It’s still there. It’s taller, but I’m stronger now than I was back then.”
She glanced to her left, to the edge of her parents’ estate, where a copse of oak trees obscured the tall brick wall circling the land. For a moment she was a kid again, clapping wildly while she watched Aiden climb like a monkey over that thing. A young woman whose heartbeat sped at the sight of him shimmying down the trunk.
“Aren’t you a tad old to be climbing trees?”
He was still half-smiling. It was infuriating. “I figured if I rang the bell I’d give your father a heart attack.”
Giving up on opening the door, Brooke turned around, her keys folded inside her palm. The metal bit at her skin, but she ignored the pain. It helped remind her where she was.
Outside her house, where her son was sleeping. She wasn’t that girl anymore. Though somebody needed to t
