by Sara Whitney
Aiden glanced at him with dawning comprehension. “Is that why you got in my face about all those clients not wanting to work with me?”
Trip ducked his head, looking embarrassed. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that too. I was just glad somebody else out there wasn’t buying the hype.”
“Trust me, there’s no hype,” Aiden said flatly. “And actually…” He drew in a deep breath and pushed out the next sentence in the interest of honesty. “I stay so busy because my life’s pretty empty otherwise.”
“Not anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
Trip lifted his hand in an “isn’t it obvious?” gesture. “Thea looks at you like you’re the goddamn solution to every problem in the world, man.”
She does? Aiden wanted to demand to hear more, but Trip wasn’t done with his apology.
“Anyway, I’m sorry. Things at work have been… better. The guys appreciate your leadership. And honestly, I wouldn’t want to do half the shit you put up with.”
Aiden braved a smile. “Dealing with budgets and city permits not your dream job?”
“Nope, and neither is telling Pritchard that he can’t wash his lucky hunting socks in the breakroom sink.”
They both gagged at the memory of the unforgettable stench that had befouled the small room and sent every employee running for cover the previous week.
“So many challenges to running a business that I never even considered before the past two months,” Aiden said mournfully.
“Better you than me,” Trip said. “Anyway, Mom kicked my ass today, and she’s right. We need to work together, and it’s not fair for me to take my shit out on you.”
A hard knot in Aiden’s chest loosened at the sincerity in Trip’s voice. He’d hated being at war with his brother. “Thanks. And I’m sorry too for ever implying that you were jealous that I was single.” He forced himself to face a terrifying truth. “I’m actually a little jealous of you. You and Ash.”
When Aiden looked over at his brother, he expected to see surprise on his face, but instead he saw a kind of speculative understanding.
And instead of letting his brother ask whatever question was brewing, he hit him with one of his own. “So, uh, what kind of things would Ash like to do, exactly?”
Trip groaned and tossed up his arms, almost knocking the truck’s rearview mirror askew with his flailing. “I don’t know! I have no idea. I thought about suggesting a cooking class or some shit, but I don’t know if that’s what she had in mind.”
“If it helps, I’d never do a cooking class.” Then he reconsidered. “Actually, that sounds like something Thea would want to do, so I guess I might.” His next words were the best peace offering he could come up with. “Maybe we could double-date sometime? Cooking night with the Murdoch boys and their ladies?”
Trip lifted one shoulder. “Could be all right.”
When he glanced over, Trip’s lips were pulled into another small smile, so he was getting this right at least. Of course, he still had one problem. “I kind of blew Thea off all week.”
“Dude.” Trip sounded actually outraged. “Why?”
“We… well. Last weekend we finally, you know…”
Trip’s mouth dropped. “You’ve been not-dating her for two months, and you guys hadn’t boned yet?”
Talking about this felt disrespectful to Thea, yet he opened his mouth and said, “Correct. And it was great, man. It was fucking great. And I don’t know what to do now.”
“What do you mean, ‘what to do now’?”
Aiden took one hand off the steering wheel to gesture helplessly. “How do you relationship people do it?”
“Do what?”
Trip sounded downright amused, so Aiden asked the question that had been rolling around his brain.
“Before, did you say Thea looks at me like…?”
“Like you’re a fried pork tenderloin she wants to rip into.” Trip tilted his head to study him. “Actually, no. Like you’re the secret recipe for fried pork tenderloin that she covets and wants to keep for herself.”
Huh. He’d never been so flattered to be compared to a greasy piece of meat before. Trip wasn’t done though. “That’s another reason I was pissed. Thea’s nice. She doesn’t deserve whatever you end up doing to her.”
His stomach dropped. “She really doesn’t.” That was another thing the brothers agreed on, and didn’t that make him feel like shit.
Then Trip said something so profound that it smacked him in the forehead like a two-by-four. “So don’t.”
“Don’t?”
“Don’t do it,” his brother said. “Don’t just fuck her and leave. Stick around. Be in a relationship.”
A sharp wave of yearning hit him, but it was overlaid with an equally sharp pulse of fear. “How?” The question clawed its way out of his throat. “How could somebody like me make that work?”
This time when Trip laughed, there was no meanness to it at all. “If you’re asking that question, you’re probably on the right track.” Then he mercifully changed the subject. “So I guess we’d better start making some plans for the business. Your favorite thing, huh?”
“I do love a plan,” he agreed, but as they hashed out the distribution of responsibilities on the final hour of the drive, Aiden’s mind refused to fully let go of thoughts of Thea. And after he dropped Trip off at his place, he didn’t point his truck toward his empty house. Instead, he drove straight toward the person who was starting to feel more and more like home to him with every passing day.
Twenty-Two
The sound of the doorbell startled Thea enough that she jumped and smacked her head on the underside of the kitchen cabinet where she was organizing her serving bowls.
“This better not be another surprise Peter visit,” she grumbled to Blue as she headed to the hobbit door, rubbing the tender spot at her hairline.
The sight that greeted her was far nicer than her stepdad: Aiden, one shoulder propped against the doorframe and an unfairly gorgeous smile on his face.
“Hi, killer.”
Her arm fell to her side as Blue rushed up to dance around his feet with happy barks. “H-hi.” How silly to lose her breath at the sight of him. She’d kissed every angle of his face, had run her tongue along the edge of that jaw. But seeing him rumpled and tired on her doorstep made her lungs tighten and her heart squeeze.
His brow creased when he noticed her forehead. “What happened?”
He stepped inside and nudged the door shut behind him, wrapping one hand around her neck and smoothing the other over the emerging bump.
“Oh, um, kitchen accident. It’s nothing.” He needed to stop touching her. She couldn’t think when he was touching her.
“It’s not nothing.” He steered her toward the kitchen, Blue’s little paws padding across the newly finished floors in their wake.
“Yeah, sure, come on in.” She didn’t care that she sounded peevish. He’d disappeared this week and treated her like a virtual stranger when she’d talked to him at his office, and now here he was dropping ice cubes into a towel. Her ice cubes and her towel. She snatched the bundle from him, eyes narrowed the whole time. “Why are you here?”
Her testiness earned her a small smile. “I missed you.”
If anything, the words rankled her even more. “It’s not like you didn’t know where to find me.” She dropped the ice towel on the counter and resumed her cabinet-organization project, turning her back to her visitor.
“I know. It was hard to stay away.”
That quiet confession held no hint of his previous teasing vibe, and she spun to face him. “Then why—”
“Because I wanted to be here so badly, and I didn’t know how to deal with that.” His voice was raw as he paced across the kitchen to stand in front of her. “Thank God, Trip talked some sense into me.”
He kept moving closer until their bodies brushed, and when he gripped the counter on either side of her hips, she was caged by his arms. She should
shove him away, should kick him right the hell of out her house. Instead, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his mouth.
“Okay. So you’re here now.” Her voice was thready and low, in stark contrast to the frantic beating of her heart.
“Yep.”
And then he kissed her. No warning, no finesse. Just the press of his lips and the slide of his tongue and his hands gripping her waist to lift her onto the countertop.
Immediate. Arousal. All it took was hearing one word and being bodily placed onto a hard surface, and her irritation fled. In its place was a wet heat blooming between her thighs and a tightening of her nipples against her shirt.
Her legs fell open, and Aiden slid his hands down to her hips, tightening his fingers to pull her forward until she was grinding against him.
His big hand moved to the nape of her neck, and he held her in place as he spoke. “I don’t want just one weekend.” He breathed the words into her ear as his lips worked their way from her jaw to her throat.
“But”—she gasped when his thumbs found the tips of her breasts and rubbed across her aching nipples—“that’s not in the agreement.”
“Fuck the agreement.” He growled and lifted her from the countertop, and she obediently wrapped her legs around his waist. “That okay?”
“So okay.” And she kissed him and kissed him as he navigated through her house and tumbled them both onto one of the loungers in the sunroom, now washed blue in the twilight.
“I just want to kiss you like this for hours.”
He cupped her cheeks and tried to pull her face down to his, but she resisted, instead sliding down his body until she was positioned between his legs.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Her finger traced up and down the zipper of his jeans, and she was gratified to feel his cock jump underneath her light touch.
“I want whatever you want.” His voice was pure gravel. “But I owe you the apology.”
“You absolutely do.” She yanked the button free, and he lifted his hips so she could push the denim down. “Better start talking.”
His eyes followed her hands as they moved down his stomach to wrap around his cock. She stroked her tongue along the underside, base to tip, and he gave a hissed “Fuck.”
“That”—she smirked up at him—“was not an apology.”
His hips twitched forward, then he jerked again when she repeated the motion along the top of his cock. She reveled in the power she had to command his whole body with these small, soft touches.
“I’m sorry I disappeared,” he gritted out. “I won’t do it again.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She rewarded him with another long lick, but this time she ended it by swirling her tongue at the top while she curled her fingers around the base and squeezed.
He groaned, and the back of his head hit the cushion of the chair. “I’m sorry you felt neglected.” His words emerged through clenched teeth. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“You absolutely will.”
This time she took his full length into her mouth and lost herself in the sensations: the loose grip of his hands in her hair. The slide and retreat of his cock between her lips. The hollowing of her cheeks and the flutter of her tongue. The pulse between her legs that ached to be filled by him.
She glanced up and found his eyes closed, the tendons in his neck taut, and for a moment the hurt of the past week roared back. Was he with her, or was he in his own world where she was just another hookup, some anonymous woman in the lineup?
But almost as if he’d heard her thoughts, his eyes opened, and his bright gaze found hers. “Killer.”
He breathed that ridiculous nickname with so much affection, with so much warmth in those hazel eyes, that for a moment she lost the rhythm of her hand and her tongue as she worked him. He took the opportunity to grab her shoulders and haul her up his body. His arms crushed her against him, and he thrust his tongue into her mouth, the delicious invasion mimicking what she was desperate to have him do to the rest of her.
“Clothes off,” he murmured, pulling her shirt up and over her head.
Within half a minute, they were both naked and he’d produced a condom from his wallet. Without a word, Aiden spun her so her back was to his front, and he guided her down to straddle him until she was impaled on the full length of him as they both faced the silent river beyond.
She whimpered at the rightness of being so full of him, surrounded by him. Night had fallen, and the room was bathed in silvery light. She was the princess in her castle, and he was her glimmering prince, once remote and untouchable as the moon outside but now alive and responsive as quicksilver under her fingers.
She braced herself on the arms of the lounger and rocked against him as his clever fingers roamed over her front, brushing her nipples, circling her clit, stroking and teasing, pinching and soothing. He chanted her name as if it was something sacred, and her breath came in pants as her pleasure built and built. She circled her hips, the motion becoming jerky and uncoordinated when his fingers moved exactly where she needed them on her breast, between her legs. When his teeth grazed the back of her neck, the lightning bolt of her orgasm raced through her. After the spasms passed, he pulled her tight so her shoulder blades pressed against his chest, and she tipped her head backward to meet his mouth in a kiss as his thrusts quickened and he followed her over the precipice.
For a few long minutes, the only sound was the nighttime chirps and whirs of the insects behind the window and their breaths winding down into relaxed drowsiness.
“Am I forgiven?”
She felt the words vibrate under his rib cage almost as much as she heard them emerge from his lips, and she turned her head to nuzzle into his neck. “I forgave you back in the kitchen.”
“Scammer.” He pinched her nipple lightly, and she shivered. “Let’s head upstairs so I can keep apologizing.”
The next morning, Thea woke up all tangled in Aiden. It was an experience she’d recommend to anyone—if she were willing to share him, which she definitely wasn’t. She allowed herself the luxury of watching his relaxed face until he slowly stirred into wakefulness under her gaze.
He blinked as his eyes focused on her, then smiled drowsily. “Imagine if we were waking up under a skylight.”
The words in his rough morning voice made her laugh. “You and your skylight obsession.” She slid an arm around his waist and propped her chin on his chest so she could look up at him. “Want to tell me about yesterday?”
She held her breath, not sure if he’d share with her after he’d slammed a metaphorical door in her face earlier in the week. But to her delight, he spilled every detail of his trip: his dad’s progress, his mom’s tentative foray into big-city living, their decision to retire, even his brotherly reckoning.
“So I guess I’d better find us a good cooking class,” she said when he was done.
“Yep. You’ll like Ashley. Her only real flaw is marrying my brother.”
She giggled and smacked his chest lightly. “So the other stuff you said yesterday. About the agreement.”
“What would you say if we just… kept doing this?” He rolled to his side and smiled down at her. His hair was sleep-tousled, and stubble covered his jaw. He’d never looked more perfect.
“Me. Sleeping with Aiden freaking Murdoch on a regular basis.” She tried the sentence on for size, but her words made him close his eyes in a wince.
“You know I’m just me, right? This whole persona you have in your head isn’t actually a thing.”
She tilted her head and smiled pityingly at him, amused that he didn’t see himself the way she saw him. “Handsome? Check. Charismatic? Check. Sex god? Check. Nice and funny and supportive and good with dogs? All the checks.”
A flush appeared on his cheekbones, and he brushed a thumb along the curve of her cheek. “Well, that explains some things I guess, because I’m sleeping with Thea freaking Blackwell on a regular basis. Cheerful? Check. Smart? Check. Competent and creative? Che
ck. The sexiest woman I’ve ever been with and also very good with dogs? All the checks.”
Did he really see her that way? After years of girl-next-door invisibility? Now she was the one blushing—and the one about to deliver bad news.
“Unfortunately, Thea freaking Blackwell needs to get dressed and head out. I promised Dave I’d come over and meet the new baby today.” She sat up, feeling only a little self-conscious that she was naked with the sheet pooled in her lap. “Do you… maybe want to come along?”
“Sure,” he said easily. “I need to pay homage to the child myself.”
After a quick round of showers and coffee, Thea insisted they stop at a party store to pick up a dozen pink and white helium balloons to go along with the gifts she’d assembled, and then they were headed to the Chiltons’ house.
“Are you much of a baby guy?” she asked as they drove.
“I have zero experience with babies.” He drummed out a quick rhythm on the steering wheel. “You?”
“I appreciate babies, but they also make me nervous.” When Belly was born, Peter had made it clear that he wasn’t comfortable with Thea holding her new little sister, and she’d internalized that distrust. But oh, she loved babies’ bright eyes and grasping fingers and impossibly soft skin. She smoothed her sweaty palms down the front of her dress and bit back a sigh at yet another example of her messed-up fear/longing response.
When they arrived at the Chilton house, he jumped out first and walked to her side to help her navigate the big step-down from the cab in her strappy sandals, and her heart throbbed at his thoughtfulness. She grabbed the huge gift bag from behind the seat, then shoved the bundle of balloons into his fist.
“I’d better not float away like the house from Up,” he warned as they walked up the porch steps.
“I’d pay to see that.”
They stood side by side before the front door, but neither made a move to knock.