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“I gave you your options,” he growled. “It’s hardly on me that you chose the difficult one. Now are you going to get into the fucking truck, or do I have to do that too?”
She reached up to brace her hands on his chest, but instead of shoving him back, she gripped the lapels of his jacket and tugged him forward, tilting her head up so his mouth crashed into hers. It didn’t take him long to respond, his arms wrapping around her waist and molding her against him.
He tasted like coffee, and she caught herself wondering how he liked to drink it. She shoved that thought aside and focused on the steady onslaught of her tongue against his. She didn’t want to get lost in the details of him. She wanted to throw him off. She wanted him to know what he did to her.
When he backed her up against the garage door, she arched against him, making him groan as she sucked his bottom lip and then dragged her teeth across it. His hands slid down to her ass, cupping it, squeezing it, and she sighed.
His hands slid down farther, wrapping around the tops of her thighs. He was going to lift her up against the garage door, and she’d let him do it, and whatever came after if she didn’t get a grip.
Capturing his lip between her teeth, she pulled back, tugging it as she leaned her head back against the cold metal and gave him a gentle shove, though she didn’t loosen her grip on his jacket. His chest rose and fell rapidly under her fingers, and she tried not to shiver when his breath blew hot against her collarbone.
His light blue eyes had gone sapphire, and she couldn’t bite back the smug grin that had them narrowing on her face. Before she gave in and kissed him again, she wriggled out of his grip and bent to retrieve the jacket and bag he’d dropped by their feet. Pushing past him, she climbed into the truck and waited.
He didn’t speak as they drove toward the bridal boutique, but his fingers gripped the steering wheel, and every so often, he sent her a searing look that she avoided with practiced ease. She had three brothers. She knew how to irritate a man with feigned disinterest.
The boutique was busy. Bustling with brides and bridesmaids picking up their dresses and last-minute necessities for weekend weddings. It made her feel even better, steadier that he looked both out of place and uncomfortable.
“Can I help you guys?” A short blonde with a gold-edged name tag stepped around a group of women examining a display of fake tiaras and smiled.
“I’m here for my final dress fitting. Vivian Falcone.”
“Oh, right. I saw your interview in the paper.” Her eyes slid to Aidan, and she smiled. “You two look so cute together.”
She heard Aidan clear his throat from behind her, and she grinned. “Thank you so much. Is there somewhere he could wait so he doesn’t see me? I want it to be a surprise.”
“Of course. If you’ll both follow me this way.”
She led them toward the back, leaving them next to a display of lingerie to check on the availability of a fitting room. Viv turned to see Aidan eyeing the rack of lace and satin, lifting a brow when he slid his gaze to her.
“In your dreams, Callahan,” she mumbled.
“Are you saying you haven’t bought anything for our wedding night?" He fingered the lace cup of a corset-style top. “What am I supposed to take off you?”
“Don’t worry,” she replied, forcing the mental images he was purposely painting to the recesses of her mind. “The dress has plenty to keep you busy.”
When the consultant reappeared, Viv left Aidan in the waiting area and stepped into the dressing room. Slipping out of her clothes, she left them neatly piled on a chair and let the consultant help her into the dress. She loved it as much as she had the first time. She ran her hands down the length of her arms to adjust the sleeves and wriggled while she tugged the satin underskirt to make it lay flat under the lace.
The consultant held her train as she stepped out into the main section of the fitting area and around the corner to one of the raised platforms so the seamstress could check the fit. While the woman adjusted and pinned, Viv tried hard not to think about Aidan removing it next weekend or what would happen once he did. She didn’t need something else to torture herself with.
“You’re a vision in this dress,” the seamstress told her, adding one final pin at her hip. “Just make sure you stay that way and don’t do anything crazy.”
“How crazy can you get with one week to go?”
The seamstress chuckled and helped her step down. “One time, I had a bride decide to do a juice cleanse. She lost eleven pounds of water weight in five days and in all the wrong places. The dress hung in such a way that she looked pregnant. So, I repeat, don’t do anything crazy.”
Viv chuckled. “I can promise you I don’t care enough to do anything drastic. About my weight, I mean,” she added quickly when the seamstress’s eyebrows shot up.
“I figured as much. I’ve seen your fiancé.”
Biting her tongue, Viv made her way back to the dressing room and carefully stepped out of the dress so the pins didn’t poke her. The consultant zipped it back into its protective bag and left Viv to dress.
Aidan rushed over the minute she stepped through the curtain that separated the waiting area from the fitting rooms. His eyes roamed over her, but they were more worried than anything else.
“Viv, what kind of car does Collin drive?”
Her gaze immediately shot over his shoulder, scanning the people still milling about the store. Had Collin been there? Was he watching her? She’d been too busy getting ready for the wedding and sparring with Aidan to think about him much over the last week. She’d prefer to never have to think about him again.
“Viv. What kind of car?” Aidan repeated.
