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Tugging Rory’s arm, Callie stepped back. “Enjoy your food.”
Hunter remained standing as the two women said goodbye and left. Aria let out her breath slowly.
“You okay?” Hunter sat back down, his forehead creasing. “Maybe coming here again wasn’t a great idea.”
“No, I’m glad we did.” She picked up her spoon, resolve straightening her spine. “It’s none of their business who I choose to have dinner with.”
“They seem very protective of you.”
“They also always expect me to fail.” She stirred her soup a little too vigorously. “Well, Callie does. With good reason. It might be easier to deal with if she didn’t succeed at everything. You can guess what a lot of fun that was growing up. God. I’m sorry.”
She groaned and reached for her glass. “I don’t mean to whine. Callie is great. She dealt with everything after Dad died, and then Mom had a health scare a couple of months ago—she’s fine now, but Callie took charge again and got us all through it. She’s a control freak, but she’s smart, committed, hard-working, organized, loyal. It’s just hard to measure up to her.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t try.”
Aria lifted her gaze to his. The way he was looking at her with such tender warmth caused an ache to constrict her heart. If he’d already fallen for her, then she’d tumbled down right along with him. Holding his hand.
“I’ve been around, Aria.” A line appeared between his eyebrows. “I’ve dealt with a lot of different kinds of people. Some of them do what they’re good at or have a talent for. Others work because they stumbled into the job or they inherited a parents’ business. Some people tried to pursue certain careers, but either didn’t succeed or got sidetracked. A select few are doing what they love.”
He leaned closer, the lantern flame flickering in his eyes. “I realize this sounds ridiculous coming from a guy who worked nonstop for success and money, but my corporate ladder climbing came with a few lessons. Maybe the biggest lesson is that the luckiest people are the ones who have figured out how to use their hearts. And I’ve never met a person who puts as much of her heart into her work…into herlife…as you do. You don’t need to measure up to anyone. The rest of the world needs to measure up to you.”
Aria stared into his candle-flame eyes, her heart thumping. She hadn’t just fallen. She was spinning wildly, plunging headfirst into a kaleidoscope of colors and light. She was whirling like a star. She was descending as slowly as a green leaf carried on a breeze.
“Any dessert?” Grant’s voice broke through the tense, lovely haze.
“Chocolate mousse.” Hunter sat back but didn’t take his gaze off her. “To go.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were in her room above the café, pulling at each other’s clothes with fevered impatience. When Aria’s dress pooled around her ankles, Hunter lifted her to the bed, his eyes burning and his body corded with self-restraint.
He stripped her of her bra and panties before kissing her as if he wanted to devour her. His stubble scraped her skin, his hands gripped and squeezed her breasts, her rear, her hips. She stroked the ridges of his abdomen, nuzzled his throat, closed her fingers around his thick erection.
Along with the heat crackling through her like a wildfire, an astonishing sense of freedom filled Aria. With him, any lingering inhibitions or shyness slipped away, leaving room for nothing but passion and raw lust.
She asked for what she wanted in both words and sighs—kiss me, lick me, oh yes please—and he both heard her spoken desires and read her unspoken wishes. He taught her how to pleasure him and introduced her to new acts that had her arching off the bed and crying out in ecstasy.
She touched him without hesitation, pushing him to lie on his back while she kissed his chest and explored the landscape of his body, the slopes and ridges she could have mapped for hours.
When he took her from behind, his hands clutching her waist and his strong thighs pressing against hers, Aria buried her face in a pillow and squeezed her eyes shut. Endless pleasure streamed through her before it broke like stars shooting through her blood. His hold on her tightened, his rough shout followed by his own powerful release.
They fell back onto the bed together, breathing heavily.
“Chocolate mousse,” Aria gasped.
“Left it downstairs.” He kissed her bare shoulder. “I’ll go get it.”
“Cats.”
“I’ll take care of them.”
“No, they’re my responsibility.” Reluctantly, she pulled herself upright and reached for her cotton robe. “But I’ll share the mousse if you give me a hand.”
“Done.”
He tugged on his jeans, and they went down the worn stone stairway to the café. Aria’s phone, also on the counter, blinked with notifications.
As Hunter went into the Cat Lounge, she checked her messages. Two texts from Rory, instructing her to call, a text from Edith with a photo of a very content Buster lounging in his new bed, and an email from Nico.
She scanned his message. Her heart dropped.
