Hard to Handle

by Jessica Lemmon

  When he would have made his escape, Sadie said, “It’s just ironic.” He paused, turned his head. She swallowed and forced herself to continue. “That you aren’t ready. And I am. Finally,” she added quietly.

  He narrowed his eyes as if trying to figure her out. Great. Just what she needed, Aiden seeing through her like a recently Windexed windshield. “What do you mean ‘finally’?”

  She gulped. “I—nothing. I don’t even know why I said that.”

  He released the doorknob and walked over to her. “You mean you wanted to sleep with me at the wedding, but you are finally allowing yourself to admit it?” he asked, arriving at a very wrong conclusion.

  “That’s not what I meant by f-finally,” she stammered, lifting her long hair off her neck. “It’s hot in here.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  Sadie let go of her hair and flipped it over her shoulder. “Just that I’m ready”—just say it and get it over with—“to have sex.”

  “With me,” Aiden said, a smile tickling his lips.

  “With anyone!” she said a little too loudly. She picked up a manila folder and fanned her face. Wasn’t she too young for hot flashes?

  ”Anyone at all, huh?” But Aiden didn’t look offended. He looked amused. The bastard. She fanned harder. She could tell by Aiden’s expression that he thought she was busting his balls, keeping his ego in check.

  Sadie so wanted to stop having this conversation. And leave Axle’s sweltering office.

  “You don’t have to spare my feelings.” Aiden took the folder from her and leaned in. “I get it,” he said, his voice low. “You’re a sexual person.”

  “Shh!”

  “You have needs.” His lip curved. “And here I am, unwilling to be your boy toy.”

  “Dammit, Aiden,” Sadie snatched the folder and slammed it on the desk. Go big or go home, right? “That’s not what I meant.”

  Her stern expression knocked the smile of his smug face. Aiden’s lips flattened. “What do you mean, Sadie?”

  With a Band-Aid-esque tear, she told him the painful truth. “I meant I’m finally ready to sleep with someone for the first time. Ever. In my entire life,” she reiterated to be crystal clear. “And I was hoping that someone would be you.”

  * * *

  Aiden had tried to speak once, twice, but only managed to emit a thin wheeze. He felt as if his throat had been lined with cotton batting, his tongue barricaded by bags of sand.

  Was she saying…?

  No way.

  Sadie moved for the door and Aiden pressed a hand to the panel. “Not even Trey?” he rasped.

  Sadie crossed her arms over her chest and met his eye. “No.”

  Thank God. He didn’t like the thought of her having sex with that philandering douchebag. Aiden didn’t like the idea of her having sex with anyone. And she hadn’t. Apparently.

  “It’s not that big of a surprise.” Sadie looked at him through the veil of her lashes. Hiding.

  “Wanna bet?” he choked out. He was beyond surprised. He was shocked. Although…when he’d helped her out of her dress at the wedding, Sadie had shown her modesty.

  No peeking while I crawl into bed.

  But how could she be a virgin? Sadie was completely irresistible. He would know. Every time he found himself alone with her, he was tempted to tie his hands to his sides to keep from touching her. She turned him on wearing high heels or tennis shoes, hair up or down, wielding a silly-saying key chain or a set of sparkplugs. How had she endured the many men who must have—had to have—tried and tried and tried again to get her to change her mind?

  “I’m just tired of missing out.”

  “That’s what this is about?” Aiden asked, disappointed. “Experimental?”

  Sadie shrugged. “What else?”

  How about because she was precious? Because she was loved? Because she was worth waiting for?

  “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you!” Sadie dropped her arms against her legs with a slap. “You’re looking at me like I’m some rare, legendary creature.”

  You are, he thought but was smart enough not to say.

  “It’s not a big deal,” Sadie insisted.

  Maybe the best thing to do here was downplay his shock. “I know.”

  Some of the steam went out of Sadie’s voice. “Oh. Well. Good,” She leaned on the door, hands behind her back. “I guess I just think it’s silly to save it. To wait.”

  Aiden wasn’t sure which of them she was trying to convince at this point. He reached up and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. God, she was beautiful. Everything he ever wanted—could ever want.

  She stared at her shoes. “It’s just sex.”

  He tilted her face and pressed his lips to hers for a slow, soft kiss that drew an answering moan from the back of her throat.

  Cradling her face in his hands, Aiden bent to meet her eyes. “Not with me, it wouldn’t be.”

  * * *

  Aiden hung his motorcycle keys on the metal hooks that spelled KEYS hanging beside the back door. “Hey, Pop,” he called, alerting his possibly snoozing father that he was home.

  Instead of hearing a rattling snore followed by the sound of the recliner returning to its upright position, his father hollered back, “In here!”

  “Uncle A!” Lyon burst through the kitchen before Aiden could make his way into the den.

  “Hey, buddy, what are you still doing here?” Aiden said. Evan usually didn’t stay this late, especially since Aiden had moved in. Evan avoided him as much as possible. It’s why Aiden had asked to have lunch with Lyon. Otherwise, he might never see him.

  “Me and Dad are staying the night,” Lyon said, running off again. “I have new jammies! Wanna see?” He took off for the staircase without waiting for Aiden’s answer.

  Aiden walked into the den. Evan sat on the couch looking none too glad to see him. Of course, Evan never looked happy to see him.

  “Hey, brother,” Aiden said.

  “My son said you were kissing a girl in the park.”

  And this chafed Evan for some reason?

  “Sadie somebody, Dad says.”

  Aiden shot his father a look. Mike shrugged. “Didn’t know it was a state secret.”

  “K-I-S-S-I-N—”

  “And Lyon says you make out with the neighbor.” Aiden interrupted Evan’s chants. “So why don’t you lay off?”

  Dad rolled his eyes. “You two sound like a couple of idgits.”

  “Evan started it.”

  “You started it,” Evan barked. “When you refused to bring Mom back from Oregon. When you lied to Dad about how much of your own money you were putting up to keep her there.”

  “Enough!” Mike’s booming voice garnered both sons’ full attention. “We are not going to assign blame for your mother’s sickness.”

  “Death, Dad,” Evan corrected.

  Aiden scowled at him. Mike’s eyes sank closed at the word.

  “You’re right, Ev,” Dad admitted softly. “Death.”

  The room grew eerily quiet for a moment. Until Lyon burst back onto the scene. “Jammies!” He was wearing only his underwear and waving the pieces of clothing around his head like a helicopter.

  Aiden caught a pant leg before he lost an eye, and helped his nephew dress. Lyon chattered about a superhero movie, growing more animated when he described the “’splosions and battles”.

  When he was dressed for bed, Lyon clambered away from his uncle. The kid’s darker skin and mass of coffee-colored curls were his late mother’s, but his light eyes and build were his father’s. “I’m gonna get the football!”

  “Not now, Lyon,” Evan told his son. When Lyon whined, Evan gave him his sternest dad look. “I’m talking to Grampa and Uncle Aiden. Go watch your DVD and I’ll tuck you into bed in a few.”

  “A few what?” Lyon asked with a frown.

  “Child,” Evan said, lifting an arm to point. “Go.” Lyon groaned and lurched into the kitchen. Event
ually they heard him stomping up the stairs, followed by the rumble of the television.

  Mike slapped Evan’s knee. “You’re a good dad.”

  The hurt showed through Evan’s pride. Lyon, and any reminder that Evan was a father, reminded Evan of Rae. When she died two years ago, she left Ev with a three-year-old and a hole in his heart the size of the Grand Canyon. Aiden couldn’t imagine what his brother’s life must be like in the lonely, quiet hours at night.

  “I love that kid,” Aiden told him.

  “He’s his mother,” he said.

  “He’s you, too.” their father said. Then he stood. “Beer?”

  “Yeah,” Ev said, then cast a glance at Aiden. “And bring Aid one, too.”

  Aiden figured that was as close to a reconciliation as they were going to get today.

  He’d take it.

  Chapter 12

  Landon. Aiden’s oldest brother. Who lives in Chicago?” Crickitt spoke slowly, making Sadie feel like the dimmest bulb in the chandelier.

  “I know who Landon is,” Sadie said. She was just distracted, that’s all. Distracted by her admission to Aiden, and by his sultry promise after he kissed the brains right out of her head. “Oldest brother, started his own advertising firm in Chicago. Millionaire.” She gestured at Crickitt with a flourish of her fingers. “Go on.”

  Crickitt tore apart a breadstick and mopped up the remaining marinara from her plate while Sadie sipped her iced tea. “Well, Landon and Shane have been referring clients to each other for years. Shane to Landon’s firm for their advertising needs and Landon to Shane for their logo design and general business consulting. But today”—Crickitt dropped her breadstick to rub her hands together—“Shane and Landon have officially partnered!”

  “That’s great,” Sadie said flatly. She didn’t mean to sound so disconnected, but she was. Her mind was wandering along the fray, and definitely not here with Crickitt and the lunchtime crowd packing Giovanni’s outdoor patio.

  “It is great,” Crickitt said, smile faltering. “It’s a big deal for August Industries, for Shane and me. For all of us, really.”

  Sadie was happy for her friend. She was. So why couldn’t she muster up anything other than a thin smile of support? “I’m so glad,” she said, sounding less than convincing.

  Crickitt frowned. “Oh my gosh. I’m bragging, aren’t I?” Crickitt swiped her mouth with her black cloth napkin. “I’ve gone and married a wealthy businessman and turned into a desperate housewife.”

  “No, no you haven’t.”

  “Yes, I have. I can’t believe it. Pretty soon I’m going to have plastic surgery and a drinking problem to go with it.”

  “Crickitt, that’s not what I’m thinking.” Sadie smiled over at her friend. A real smile.

  “Don’t let me buy a little dog and carry it around in a purse, okay?” Crickitt wrinkled her cute nose.

  “Okay.” Sadie leaned in. “I have to tell you something.”

  Crickitt’s eyes rounded. She leaned over the table.

  Sadie kept her voice down, but spoke loud enough to be heard over the din of dining patrons. “I want to sleep with Aiden, but he won’t sleep with me because he’s decided to take a vow of celibacy until he gets married.” She didn’t know Crickitt’s eyes could get wider until they did. “I’m tired of being a virgin,” Sadie added, because, well, why not admit it all? The truth shall set you free.

  Crickitt’s mouth dropped open. Sadie leaned back in her chair and watched her friend stare across the table at her.

  “I know. I should have told you a long time ago,” Sadie said. “About the virgin thing, I mean. I don’t even know why I would want the man who left me an aching, devastated mess a year ago. Your plastic-surgery-wine-addiction is sounding pretty good right about now compared to the woman I’m becoming. I don’t want to be a doormat.”

  Crickitt walked around the table and hugged her. “Oh, this is so great!” When she released Sadie, she was blinking away tears. “I always loved the two of you together.”

  “Did you hear anything I said?” Sadie asked as Crickitt returned to her chair. “About my being a”—she mouthed the word—virgin?

  Crickitt waved a hand and reached for her water. “Oh yeah, that. I had my suspicions.”

  Sadie sat back in her chair. “Really?” She worked so hard to come off as worldly.

  “It’s neither here nor there. The point is you and Aiden are back together,” she cooed.

  “We’re not…together.” And evidently they wouldn’t be getting together if Aiden wasn’t having sex until his wedding day. What was Sadie supposed to do, marry him to get some? She snorted to herself.

  “Why aren’t you two together?” Crickitt asked, reclaiming her abandoned breadstick. “What are you afraid of?”

  “Are you kidding me? How about him calling from across the country to dump me over the phone?”

  Crickitt tilted her head. “He regrets that, Sadie. More than you know.” She finished chewing and patted her lips with the napkin. “Don’t get mad at me for saying this.”

  Sadie felt herself getting angry already, but willed the emotion away. Crickitt was her best friend. She wouldn’t tell her anything she didn’t need to hear. Even if she didn’t want to hear it. “Say it.”

  “I think you’ve gotten all the mileage you can out of that phone call.”

  “Mileage?” Sadie asked, struggling to keep her tone even. “You mean, like, pity?”

  Crickitt shook her head and kept her hand firmly over Sadie’s. “It was a terrible, awful, devastating phone call from a man who was going through a terrible, awful, devastating time. Aiden is a good man, Sadie. And you”—she lifted her hand and gestured to Sadie—“you’re an absolute ten in every way. Let it go. Forgive him. And let yourself be happy.”

  Sadie thought about that for a second. Crickitt made it sound so easy. Was it that easy? “But what if I can’t?”

  “What if you can?”

  Sadie blinked at her empty plate. A second later, it was whisked away by their waiter.

  What if she could?

  Did she dare put herself on the line again?

  * * *

  Aiden managed not to fidget with the pen in his hand, but his foot bounced up and down like a sewing machine needle. He’d spent the last ten minutes explaining his plan—his creative financial plan—to purchase all five Axle’s stores. Axle remained silent the entire time, his eyes flat black stones, his face impassive.

  The day Aiden had taken Sadie to lunch, she’d given him invaluable advice. Find out what he wants, she told him. Did Axle want to open a smaller store elsewhere or never look at another motorcycle again? Did he want to continue custom building and advertise locally or collect soda cans in Key West and live in a hut?

  Since that lunch, Aiden had slipped in questions whenever he and Axle had a moment alone, mentally taking notes and planning his pitch. Turns out Axle had no plans to move to Florida, and he wasn’t about to give up building bikes. Axle wanted to stay in Osborn, build replicas of vintage motorcycles, and sell to local stores who would in turn resell them for profit. Axle’s business plan was solid, his talent for crafting custom-made bikes impressive. They’d sell like hell. But Aiden didn’t want him to sell to anybody. He wanted Axle to sell to him.

  Exclusively to him.

  Aiden hoped the offer he’d pitched—giving Axle all of the profits from the sale of his bikes, and a percentage of the profits from this, his largest store for two years—would appeal enough to get his agreement. Aiden needed to get some more money together to get the loan for the stores. After extensive number crunching, and adding in the increased business Axle’s coveted replicas would bring in, Aiden figured two years was more than enough time. By then he could buy the stores outright and Axle could continue his hobby and bank a hefty lump sum when the sale closed.

  Aiden just needed Axle to keep it in his name for those two years.

  “Done deal,” Axle said.

  Aiden bl
inked the mountain range in front of him into focus. “Really?”

  Axle’s mouth cracked into a barely there smile. “Yup.”

  Aiden burst out of the guest chair like his pants were on fire. “Thank you, Axle. You won’t be sorry. I’m—” Aiden cut himself off when he realized Axle was grousing up at him. “Thanks.” Aiden ran into Sadie on her way to the office from the sales floor.

  He grasped her shoulders and backed her into the supply closet, flipped on the light, and closed the door behind them. Sadie’s eyebrows were up, lips poised, probably to ask him what he was doing.

  Aiden lost sight of the answer.

  Sharing his news took low priority with Sadie’s lips this close. He pressed her against a shelf filled with paper, boxes of pens, and rolls of receipts, and kissed her. She kissed him back, stroking his face with cool, slim fingers as she moved her mouth against his. He pulled away to find a satisfied smile on her face, her lids at half-mast. Mmm. His favorite look on her.

  “Um…thank you?” she said.

  “Thank you,” Aiden said in a thick husk. “I’m buying Axle’s.” He briefly explained the details. “He loved the idea.”

  “Loved?”

  “Well, loved it like only Axle can love anything.” Aiden said.

  She grinned up at him. “Congratulations.”

  He could kiss her again. Would have if he didn’t suddenly become aware of the haphazardly stacked supplies over her head, the dust tickling his nostrils. “I’ll let you out of here now.” But he didn’t move, lowering his head for one more brief kiss after all. “Unless you don’t want out of here.”

  Sadie flattened a palm on his chest. “I was coming to find you to say good-bye, so yeah, probably we should get out of here.”

  “I’ll walk you out.” Aiden popped open the door and practically smacked into Axle, who slid them a strange glance as he lumbered by.

  Aiden walked Sadie to the parking lot. She paused before settling into her car. “Um…so Axle’s is completely stocked with Midwest parts.”

  “Great,” Aiden said. And soon he’d be running the place. He needed to hire someone else before Axle left. Or maybe two someone elses. Axle wouldn’t be easy to replace.