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“I have not had a night like this in a long time, Aria. Thank you. This has been a great way to spend my last night in the States.”
“Better than sitting by yourself with a travel book?”
He laughs. “Yeah. Definitely. Should I apologize for ruining girls’ night?”
“Don’t you dare. I’ve had a great time talking with you, too, James.”
He hesitates, and I catch him staring at my mouth, before he drags his eyes away. “Um, you mentioned you had a long day, and I don’t want to keep you from getting a good night’s sleep, so maybe we should call it.”
But I don’t want to. And besides, “That’s not what you were going to say, was it?”
He bites his bottom lip and his breath hitches. “No. I was going to say that I wanted to kiss you. But since you looked nervous when I mentioned going to my truck, I didn’t think I should be that forward—"
I interrupt him with a kiss. I can’t stop myself, once I know he’s into it, too. His lips are warm, and I want to melt against him. It’s one of those long, lazy, sweet kisses that makes me crave another. “Was that okay?”
“I don’t know. Need another one to render a proper opinion.”
I giggle, and he kisses me, this time brushing his fingertips against my cheek, and they dance to the back of my neck under my hair to tilt me to him. But kissing in the front seat is always a little off-kilter. Stupid armrest. Still, I get dizzy on him, and I know where I want this to go. It’s been too long to deny myself the question. “Do you want to come back to my place?”
There’s that hesitation again. “I’m not sure.”
“What is it?”
“I just…since I’m leaving in the morning…I don’t want to pretend this is more than it is.”
I laugh. “James, I’m not a kid. I know exactly what this is. Two people, sharing a moment.”
He kisses me again. “Then yes. I’d like to come back to your place.”
-
4
Everett
Following Aria back to her place, a few things eat at me. Okay, so I swore off one-night stands. But I can make an exception for an exceptional woman, and Aria is definitely that. The way she lights up when she talks about her passions, not to mention that killer body…I could be smitten with her fast, if I am not careful.
Good thing I’m always careful when I’m being reckless. As they say, when you’re doing something wrong, do it right. That means condoms. Being a MacMillan means getting that drilled into you at a young age to prevent the unplanned pregnancy issue. No point in dragging the family name into the mud because you didn’t want to bag it up. Thankfully, no matter the rules I set out for myself, I’m always prepared.
But something tells me I could never be prepared for a woman like Aria.
Kissing her is like sticking my lips in a light socket, but in a good way. She doesn’t smell like strawberries—she smells like something faintly sweet I can’t quite place. It’s intoxicating. Her energy is exactly what I like, too. She is smart, and she laughs like she’s not self-conscious. It’s full-bodied and unashamed. If I weren’t going tomorrow—
I am, though. That much is certain.
And giving her my middle name isn’t lying. Admittedly, it’s not entirely honest, but hooking up in Somerset Harbor is fraught with peril. I’ve seen it too many times with my brother Beckett—he’s an even bigger hound than I am, and it’s made for some very awkward times at dinner parties, business dealings, and the like. I cannot let that happen.
When her friend Jeanette thought I was Evan, she wasn’t too far off with that. I recognized her from that party at the McCall’s, so I had to go with something, or they would know who I was, and this would likely get back to my folks, who think I’m back at school already. Thankfully, Jeanette was fond of her champagne and wasn’t quite certain it was me. Dodged a bullet there.
I follow Aria to her place. It’s a small cottage in one of the East Somerset Harbor neighborhoods that I rarely visit. Her place is adorable—tiny, dark blue with a bright yellow front door and a white picket fence. When she opens the door, it’s all I can do to keep my hands to myself. Thankfully, I don’t have to.
Aria kisses me and shoves the door shut over my shoulder. She manages to get her boots off without breaking our kiss, so I do the same. It’s like she’s as hungry for me as I am for her. When I hear the whoosh of her winter coat gliding to the floor, I’m pretty sure I know where this is going. But I don’t want to be hasty, in case I’m wrong. Instead of undressing her or myself, I wrap my hands around her lower back and gradually reach down for her ass to test things. She growls like a kitten when I grab her there, and that sound does something to me.
When her fingers glide up the waist of my sweater, I murmur, “Do you want me to take it off?”
She looks up at me from beneath her lashes, and those stunning bright blue eyes suck me right in. She nods, and I’ve never stripped a sweater off faster. When her lips part at the sight of me, it’s an ego stroke that makes every grueling ab workout worth it. Her fingernails glide up my torso, drawing along the divisions of my abs. “You’re pretty.”
I laugh. “I think that’s my line.”
