Aaron's Patience

by Tiffany Patterson

  Copyright © 2017 by Tiffany Patterson

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, at TiffanyPattersonWrites@Gmail.com.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  A special thank you to There For You (thereforyou.melissa@gmail.com) for editing and Ideality Consulting LLC (latrisa@idea-lity.com) for proofreading.

  Looking for updates on future releases? I can be found around the web at the following locations:

  FaceBook private group: Tiffany’s Passions Between the Pages

  Website: TiffanyPattersonWrites.com

  FaceBook Page: Author Tiffany Patterson

  Email: TiffanyPattersonWrites@gmail.com

  More books by Tiffany Patterson

  The Black Burles Series

  Black Pearl

  Black Dahlia

  Black Butterfly

  Forever Series

  7 Degrees of Alpha (Collection)

  Forever

  Safe Space Series

  Safe Space (Book 1)

  Safe Space (Book 2)

  Rescue Four Series

  Eric’s Inferno

  Carter’s Flame

  Emmanuel’s Heat (Coming Soon!)

  Non-Series Titles

  This is Where I Sleep

  My Storm

  Aaron’s Patience

  Prologue

  Patience

  “Why does he want me at this dinner? He never wants me to be around when he hosts one of these.” I frowned, looking down at the dress my nanny, Ms. Ryan, held out to me.

  “You know I don’t question your daddy. I just follow his orders.” Ms. Ryan’s dark chocolate cheeks creased as she smiled.

  I eyed the dress with the flower print. “I don’t like flowers.”

  “Then which one would you prefer?”

  “The plain black one.” I motioned to the dress hanging in my closet.

  “There are going to be some important people at dinner tonight. You can’t wear that dress. It’s too tight on you now.”

  I rolled my eyes, hating the reminder that over the past summer, right before I started high school, my body betrayed me. My hips had widened, my breasts have grown past the training bra I first got the previous summer to a C-cup, and my ass now filled out my jeans. I’d even caught one of the male teachers checking out my backside. I may’ve been fourteen, but at heart I was still the nerdy girl that loved nothing more than to curl up with a good book. I hated the increased attention.

  “Your father would not like that,” Ms. Ryan continued.

  “Like he’ll notice,” I snarked.

  “Don’t say that. Your daddy is just an incredibly busy man. He loves you very much.”

  I let out a long-suffering sigh before taking the floral dress from my nanny. “If you say so. I’ll wear the dress.” I moved to the bathroom across the hall to change into the dress and stockings Ms. Ryan had laid out.

  “I’m leaving the braid in,” I insisted, returning to my room.

  “That’s fine. It looks–”

  “Patience!”

  My stomach jumped as my father’s voice reverberated up the staircase, reaching into my room to my ears.

  “Yes, Dad?”

  “Patience, don’t yell! Go to your father.”

  Pushing out a heavy breath, I stomped off to reach the top of the wooden banister that led to our two-story home’s staircase.

  “Yes, Dad?” I looked down at my father’s dark brown eyes, and for a moment I thought I saw a glimmer in them as he peered up at me. However, a blink later and it was gone. Pretty sure it was just my imagination.

  “Are you ready? Our guests will be here shortly.”

  I held back the sigh that wanted to escape. “I–”

  “She’s ready, Mr. Thiers. Doesn’t she look lovely? Our little girl is all grown up,” Ms. Ryan gushed, wrapping her arms around my shoulders from behind. Ms. Ryan was the closest thing I’d ever had to a mother, and I had to admit hearing the pride in her voice as she talked about me made me smile a bit.

  My father clearing his throat caught my attention. “Well, then come down so we can meet our guests.”

  “Okay, I just have to grab–”

  “No books!” both Ms. Ryan and my father yelled at the same time.

  “You will be social tonight, Patience. Not have your head stuck in a book. Go on.” Ms. Ryan nudged my shoulders in the direction of the stairs.

  “Don’t most caretakers do their best to encourage reading in children under their watch?” I grumbled.

  “Yes, but most teens aren’t spending their time avoiding social interactions with their heads stuck in books all day long like someone I know,” she sing-songed the last part.

  I shrugged. “Not my fault books are more interesting than most people.”

  “I swear,” she tutted, shaking her head. “You’re fourteen, Patience. You need to be more social by making more friends and actually interact with the world around you.”

  “Whatever,” I mumbled as I took the stairs.

  “Come, Patience.” My father didn’t bother waiting. He pivoted on his heels and left me to follow as he moved to the kitchen to ensure the caterers were setting up properly.

  I pouted as I followed him down the hallway, watching while the caterers set the long table. This was another one of my father’s business dinners. However, he usually never hosted at our home, and I never accompanied him. I wondered what’s the big deal about tonight’s dinner that my father actually took an interest in me enough to ensure that Ms. Ryan got me dressed and ready to attend.

  “Don’t sit yet, Patience. We have to greet our guests,” my father insisted just as I began to sit at one of the high-back wooden chairs. I lowered my head as I bit back a retort. A heartbeat later, the doorbell rang and my father beckoned me to follow him with a motion of his head. I did so, just wishing we could hurry this along to end this night so I could get back to the latest Harry Potter book I was reading, and then move on to Mitch Albom’s The Five People You Meet in Heaven. The book may’ve been a little advanced for my age range but I couldn’t wait to devour it. Just thinking about it made me wonder about my own mother and if I’d really ever get to meet her once I made it to heaven. If there was a heaven.

  “Robert! On time as usual!” My father chuckled as he pulled the door open.

  I took a step back, giving my father some room to move aside and let the man he referred to as Robert pass. I squinted, studying the familiar face of a man I’d seen on one of the news and business channels.

  “Thiers, good to see you,” he responded, referring to my father by his last name. Most people did. “This is my son, Aaron.”

  “Pleasure.”

  A chill moved through my body at the male voice. Out of curiosity, I peeked around my father’s shoulder to see Robert’s son. My mouth went dry at the sight of the tall, handsome man. No, not handsome, gorgeous–jet black hair, hazel eyes, and freckles that lined his masculine cheeks. He had to be a little over six-feet tall. Even the hard frown he wore on his face made him look appealing, though it scared the hell out of me. When he turned his eyes on me, my stomach dropped and I turned my head to my father, who was now introducing me to Robert.

  “Patience, this is my dear friend
, Robert Townsend, and his son, Aaron. Say hello.”

  I pasted a small smile on and nodded. “Pleasure to meet you Mr. Townsend.” I tried not to look toward Aaron but something tugged at me and I found my eyes landing on him.

  His gaze lingered for a moment before he nodded sharply. “Patience.”

  More butterflies…hell, an earthquake felt like it erupted in my belly.

  Thankfully the men began engaging in business talk and proceeded down the hall, leaving me to follow. Over the course of the next fifteen minutes or so more guests arrived, but the Townsends were the only ones my father actually greeted at the door. The butler he’d hired for the night answered the rest and escorted them to the kitchen. I rolled my eyes when Wallace McCloud showed up with his jerk of a son, Wallace Jr. The McClouds were a huge real estate family in the city of Williamsport, and like me, their son attended Excelor Academy. He was a junior while I was in the middle of my freshman year, and he was a grade A asshole.

  I barely spoke three words throughout the dinner. As I chewed my shrimp risotto, quietly staring into my plate, I felt eyes on me. I knew it wasn’t my father who was busy talking with Robert Townsend and his other guests. I dared to peek up from my plate, looking around the table. My attention got stuck on Aaron Townsend again, though he wasn’t looking in my direction at all. I took that opportunity to stare at his profile as he talked with a man sitting next to him. Even while speaking, the scowl he’d worn earlier remained in place. This guy wasn’t friendly and didn’t even try to be. But there was something about him…

  I pulled my attention from Aaron, not wanting to be caught staring when my eyes then landed on Wallace. The stupid, lopsided smirk his face held told me he’d caught me staring. I planted my gaze back on my plate and didn’t move it until it was empty. As discreetly as I could I leaned over and told my father I was heading to the bathroom. I doubted he even acknowledged my words but I didn’t pause to find out. I placed the cloth napkin that was in my lap on the table and hightailed it out of the dining area to the downstairs bathroom, down the hall.

  Once alone, I exhaled and pulled out the Harry Potter book I’d conveniently tucked underneath the sink cabinet. I peeked out of the bathroom door, and when I didn’t see anyone, I made my way to the den that was off to the left. I figured my father wouldn’t even notice my absence and I could get some reading done in peace. Unfortunately, that wasn’t to be.

  “What’re you doing in here?” I questioned, startling Wallace Jr. whose back was to me.

  He turned in my direction with that same stupid smirk on his face. “Waiting for you.”

  I sneered. “Why?”

  “I needed to use the bathroom.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m out.” I moved to the side to give him space to pass me but he just stood there.

  “What’cha got there?” he asked, walking up to me.

  Before I could hide the book behind my back, he caught my arm and tugged it from me.

  “Should’ve fucking known,” he chuckled. “Harry Potter.”

  “Can I have that back, please?”

  “Come get it.” He held the book over his head.

  I rolled my eyes and balled my fists at my sides. Wallace was at least eight inches taller than my five-foot, three inch frame.

  “Just give me my book back!” I growled low which only caused him to laugh.

  “Someone’s getting upset.”

  My hands squeezed tighter the more he laughed. And finally my anger exploded when he snatched the book away as I lunged for it. I reared back and kicked him in the shin.

  “Fuck! You bi—”

  Bracing myself, I squeezed my eyes shut as Wallace balled his fist and aimed like he was about to punch me. But the blow never came.

  “You’ve got a real fucking problem.”

  I gasped and blinked my eyes open to see Aaron Townsend with one hand wrapped around Wallace’s throat. His face was beet red and terror filled his brown eyes. Aaron’s back was to me and his voice was low but I heard it.

  “Your father’s a shit businessman and obviously an even worse father. What kind of shithead tries to beat up a little girl?”

  My eyes widened and my heart plummeted. Not because it started to look like Wallace was close to losing consciousness but because Aaron had just referred to me as a little girl. Why did that sting so much?

  “You’re going to go back into that dining room, tell your father you’re not feeling well, and take both your sorry asses out of here.” Aaron shoved Wallace away from him, then angrily watched as Wallace coughed and rubbed his throat before stumbling off in the direction of the dining area.

  Slowly Aaron turned his eyes roving over me. A tingling feeling started in the pit of my stomach again.

  “Are you all right?”

  I swallowed and then remembered that this guy had just called me a little girl. I don’t know why that ticked me off but it did. I put my hand on my hip.

  “I could’ve handled him on my own,” I told him sharply.

  His eyes widened just a smidge and for a second I worried that he was going to give me a piece of what he’d just given Wallace. Much to my surprise, a small smirk broke through on his full lips. A lump formed in my throat.

  “I do believe you could have.” He gave me one last look, nodded, and turned to leave.

  I was left standing there wondering what had just happened. And why the space between my legs had begun tingling as well.

  Chapter One

  Patience

  “Do you have to go, Mommy?” my five-year-old daughter, Kennedy, whined as she sat on top of my folded clothes in my suitcase.

  Stepping out of my small closet, I smiled at the pout on my little girl’s caramel-colored face. I moved over to her, getting on my knees and pushing one of her curly ringlets behind her ear.

  “I told you this already, sweetheart. Mommy will only be gone for two days.”

  “I knooow, but who’s gonna read with me? Kyle hates reading!”

  “Reading sucks!” my other five year old yelled from his position on my bed.

  “Kennedy, don’t say hate and, Kyle, you stop saying sucks!” I admonished the twins. “Ms. Sheryl will read to you every night I’m gone.”

  That didn’t make Kennedy any happier.

  “But she won’t do it like you. And who’s gonna take us to the library?”

  “Baby,” I began, plucking Kennedy out of my suitcase and sitting her on my lap, “Mommy will only be gone for two days. That’s only two sleeps. We will go to Mommy’s job when I get back and check-out all the books you want. Okay?”

  Kennedy’s little body shook as she sighed but she nodded.

  “And what about you, Kyle? Will you come with us to the library once I get back?” I asked my son as if he had a choice.

  He jumped off the bed, scaring the hell out of me, and ran to sit opposite his sister on my other leg.

  “Libraries are boring. Can we go to Fun Zone?” His hazel eyes lit up, tugging at my heartstrings.

  “Sure we can,” I agreed because I could rarely deny either one of these two anything. Though it pulled at my heartstrings that Kyle loathed reading so much. Kennedy had inherited my voracious love of all things books while Kyle was the complete opposite. Reading was so difficult for him that it felt like punishment every time I asked him to sit and read for a bit.

  “Okay, you two, how about Mommy orders pizza for dinner?”

  “Yes!” they shouted in unison. Pizza was a rare occasion in our home. We had it only on nights I didn’t feel like cooking, and since I had an early morning flight, this was one of those times.

  “Mushrooms and peppers please!” Kyle requested.

  What five year old asks for mushrooms and peppers on their pizza? Mine did apparently.

  “Yuck!” Kennedy made a face at her brother’s request.

  As usual, I ordered a half-plain, half-mushroom and green pepper pizza, and then continued to finish my packing. I was headed to a conference hosted
by the American Library Association in Chicago. The event was scheduled for three days but I was only staying for two, not wanting to be away from the kids for more than that. The annual conference was the only time I left my children for longer than a night, and that only happened because I trusted their sitter, Ms. Sheryl, with my life. She had saved all three of ours once already, and she loved my kids almost as much as I did.

  ****

  “Judy, what are we doing here?” I questioned behind my friend as we crossed the street to the bar. I had just wanted to spend a relaxing evening in the hotel, after the full day of meetings and discussion groups we had at the conference.

  “You need to live a little. You were just going to go back to your hotel room and call your kids.” Judy glared at me over her shoulder.

  I shrugged. She was absolutely right. That’s what I’d planned on doing before she ruined it by banging on my door and insisting I get dressed to go out with her.

  “What’s wrong with wanting to call my kids after being away from them for a whole day?”

  Judy shrugged a thin shoulder. “Nothing’s wrong per se, but you’re a single mom who rarely gets a night off from her kids. It’s been years since you even went on a date, hasn’t it?”

  I frowned. Judy knew damn well how long it’d been since I was on a date. The last guy I’d dated had been over a year and a half ago. We dated a few months, and after the first time we slept together I never heard from him again. After that, I decided to focus on just raising my children. It wasn’t a conscious decision. I just didn’t think men were worth it.

  “I knew you’d turn into a prude the minute I left Oakland,” Judy continued.

  I rolled my eyes. Judy and I had met while we worked together for the Oakland Public Library, but close to two years earlier, she’d gotten a job in her hometown of Chicago and decided to move back.

  “I’m not a prude,” I insisted.

  “Oh yeah? Prove it!” she urged at the same time she shoved me through the doors of a local bar she’d said would be our first stop for the evening.