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“Chocolate.”
“I like vanilla, so maybe we’ll go half and half on the cake.” He chuckled.
The tips of her mouth lifted slightly in a ghost of a smile, but he’d take it.
“What’s your favorite flower?”
Brynn stilled, her smile turning into a frown, her gaze seeming to drift far away as she stared at his chest.
“Brynn?” Aaron reached out his hand to cover hers in an attempt to bring her back from wherever she’d gone to.
She startled, her body pressing as close to the wall and as far from him as possible without falling off the window seat.
He held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” What kind of hell has this woman been through? Aaron had never been prone to violence, but the malice that churned in his gut at the thought of anyone hurting this waif of a woman burned like acid in his veins.
“I-I’m sorry. I don’t like to be touched.”
He nodded. “Okay. We can start slow. We’re gonna have to kiss on the wedding day, at least once.” Probably more if people happily tap their cutlery against champagne glasses.
She swallowed, the color in her face draining as she looked down at her hands, her shoulders going rigid.
“Everyone who knows me knows I’m an affectionate guy. If we do this, you’re going to have to get used to me touching you from time to time.”
Her wide eyes shot to his, fear shining bright.
“Touching you like holding your hand, or resting my palm on your waist, kissing your cheek, or your lips when the occasion calls for it,” he clarified.
She looked sick. Was she disgusted by him? Or the thought of him touching her? Or was it any man?
“We can go as slow as you need. Would it help if I warned you beforehand?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want to practice here, while we’re alone?”
She waited a beat, looking down and then back to him. “We can try.”
“Okay. First, I’d like to hold your hand.”
He reached out his palm to her.
She hesitated and then slipped her small hand in his. Aaron gently closed his fingers around her, giving her a moment to adjust before he rubbed his thumb in slow soft circles over the back of her hand.
Her shoulders lowered from her ears.
“You doing okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. Do you want to dance?”
Her brows drew together. “But there’s no music.”
Aaron pulled out his phone and tapped his John Legend playlist, pressing play on a song. A slow, romantic melody bled from the tiny speaker of his cell. He stood without letting go of her hand and tugged her gently to her feet. Their height difference was stark, the top of her head came to just below his chest.
“I’m going to wrap my arm around your waist, is that okay?”
Her nod was curt, as if she wasn’t sure but was pushing herself past her comfort zone.
