The Stubborn Love Series: Books 1-5 Contemporary Romance Series

by Wendy Owens

  “It’s a syndrome?” she asks, fighting the corners of her lips that threaten to curl up into a smile.

  I nod confidently. “Absolutely. You see, you have a perfectly good relationship, but that’s not what you really want. What you really want is a man slave, devoted to you, meeting all of your wishes, and as he does, telling you a tender, ‘as you wish.’”

  She’s glaring at me, and I’m mentally kicking myself. “Just because a girl wants more doesn’t mean she wants a ‘man slave.’ If all I wanted was some pathetic puppy dog love where the guy just chased after me, there are plenty of men around for that.”

  “Wow.” I’m laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” She’s yelling now, and I wish I would shut up.

  “You’re so humble,” I snark.

  “Oh my God, one minute you tell me I’m confident, and now you’re telling me I’m conceited. You’re a real piece of work. You stroke a girl’s cheek with one hand while punching her in the gut with the other,” she snaps.

  “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you,” I plead, trying to rein the conversation in, I reach for her arm, but she pulls away from me.

  “You’re always sorry. Did you ever wonder why you have to apologize so much?”

  “Because I’m a jerk,” I shrug.

  “Admitting it doesn’t make it any better.” She turns to walk away.

  “It’s like you’re stuck in the mud that you can’t get out of,” I say, with my heart racing.

  She turns slowly, looking me in the eyes. “What did you say?”

  I swallow hard, pushing the honesty up from the depths of my cynical gut, up my throat, and out of my mouth. “When you’re with the wrong person, you tell yourself things will be better tomorrow, but they never are. It’s like you’re stuck in mud, unable to move.”

  “I thought you’d never been in love?” Her tone is soft again as she takes a step back toward me.

  I shake my head. “I haven’t been, but I’ve been with the wrong person many times.” Silence begins to grow between us and the uncomfortable feeling creeps and crawls its way once again across my flesh. I must break the silence. “And you’re right, just because I can admit I’m being a jerk doesn’t mean I should continue being one. Don’t go. Please.”

  I watch her, the hurt feelings scratching at the surface. “I’m not big on meaningless apologies.”

  I can feel my barrier breaking, the tattered and worn being inside becoming more exposed. Part of me is desperate to hide from her prying eyes. This doesn’t happen to me, but being around her is like staring at the sun. It hurts, but I can’t seem to pull myself away from its magnificence.

  “You’re right. I promise, only nice guy Aiden from here on out,” I say, even though my gut is telling me to push her away, I can’t stop myself from trying to keep her close.

  I notice the tension in her body begins to ease. “Oh, I haven’t met him yet. That should be interesting.” She looks at me with a sly grin that makes my insides do a somersault.

  I laugh, shaking my head. “I deserved that.”

  She glides into the space next to me and starts to tell me all about her relationship with the car mechanic named Ben. They met in college, and he held countless firsts for her. Though I keep my tongue in check, I can’t seem to keep my emotions even. Is this jealousy? I’ve never even met the guy, but somehow he has a piece of Kenzie that I wish I had.

  “You can seriously tell me to shut up at any point,” her statement breaks through my thoughts.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I’ve been going on all night about my ex-boyfriend. My problems must seem so small and insignificant to you.”

  I cock my head, scratching my chin, before asking, “What would make you say that?”

  “Are you kidding me? Jumanda told me how you helped the Bushmen.”

  I laugh. “While I wish I could take credit, I was a college kid at the time. I had no idea what I was doing. It’s not like I ever thought anyone would listen to me.”

  “But they did.”

  “I wasn’t the only one trying to help them,” I insist. “And just because there are injustices in the world it doesn’t make matters of the heart unimportant.”

  “No, but it puts things into perspective,” she says softly.

  “I suppose.”

  I stare at the ground. Her feet are next to mine. They fit next to me like they’ve always been there, walking next to me, sharing one life. I keep my eyes focused on the spot of dirt on my shoes, afraid if I look at her under the light of the stars I might try and kiss her.

  A lump forms in my throat when I feel her hand take mine and pull me gently toward the fire. The dancing has ended at some point during our talk, and now friends are gathered around, laughing and speaking in a language that while neither of us understands, it’s still so clear. “Come on, I want to take some pictures.”

  I follow, spending the rest of the night trying not to get caught while I sneak glances of her smile.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Kenzie

  * * *

  His eyes close tightly, his head jerking toward the driver’s side window. He hasn’t said a word since he got behind the wheel. I try to remember what he said this morning. It shouldn’t be hard since it was only a handful of words. Last night he seemed so warm and welcoming, but today he’s the same distant and cold Aiden.

  I look at him, desperate to fill the silence. “So will we see Jumanda again?” I ask, surprised he wasn’t joining us on the trip back to the city.

  “Huh?” he breathes, shaking his head as if he were shaking off some sort of fuzziness. “Oh, maybe. I guess we’ll see after we comb through the images we got.”

  “What about the SUV?” I ask, searching for anything to keep the conversation going.

  He narrows his gaze on the road in front of us. “What? This isn’t Jumanda’s.” he laughs at the idea. “I rented it, and he just picked it up for me.”

  “Oh.” My answer is short. What else can I say? It’s obvious he’s not interested in anything I have to say. Perhaps I was caught up in the excitement of the dancing last night, but I could have sworn he was watching me. I roll back into the bucket seat, dropping my hand to my side. My breath catches in my throat when I realize his hand is already there. Our skin connects. I don’t pull away, but neither does he. Instead, we both look at anything, but each other, hands touching.

  What does this mean?

  I feel his warmth. He must know we’re touching.

  Does this mean anything?

  Do I want it to mean something?

  Me: I’m still waiting for you to call me, where are you???

  I send the text, waiting impatiently for Annabelle’s reply.

  Minutes pass.

  * * *

  Me: ???

  * * *

  Annabelle: Putting baby down for nap, call you in just a second.

  I wait for what seems like the longest two minutes of my life until the phone finally rings. Swiping my finger across the glass face of the device, the words begin to spill out of my mouth.

  “Tell me I’m crazy. Tell me this is just the rebound rollercoaster I’m feeling. I mean it can’t be anything real, right?”

  “Whoa,” Annabelle starts. “Slow down. Take a breath and tell me what’s going on.”

  I collapse onto the hotel bed, inhale a deep breath as she instructed me to, and push it out with my eyes closed. “I must be crazy.” I nearly whisper.

  “Let me guess, Aiden?” she asks.

  “One minute he’s a complete douche-canoe to me and the next he’s the sweetest guy. And I mean really, I don’t even know this guy, why on earth would I care if he’s a jerk, right?”

  Annabelle laughs softly through the phone. “Because you like him.”

  I shake my head even though she can’t see me. “No, I can’t. I just broke up with Ben. It’s impossible for me to like someone else.”

  “Like how it was impossible for me to fe
el something for Holden?”

  “No, that’s not even the same,” I insist. “He was like freaking prince charming. Aiden is Mr. Socially Awkward. Oh God, but then he will say things that make me think he sees the world the way I wish I could.”

  “Did he kiss you?” she asks eagerly.

  “What? No!” I exclaim. “I mean, I kind of thought at one point last night he might try.”

  “Would you let him if he did?”

  “God, no!” I gasp. “I mean … I don’t know, maybe.”

  Slamming a hand against the mattress, I moan in frustration.

  “Do you enjoy being around him?” She asks me.

  “I do,” I admit reluctantly.

  “Then I say get to know him more,” Annabelle’s advice shocks me.

  “What about Ben?”

  “You said you were done with him. Are you?” she presses.

  “Of course, I am, but isn’t it a little soon?” I ask, part of me hoping for her approval.

  “I’m not saying run away and get married, just spend some more time with the guy and see what happens.”

  I squeal. She laughs.

  “I love you,” I manage to squeak out.

  “Is there anything else exciting happening?”

  “Oh hell, I was freaking out so much about Aiden I almost forgot to tell you. I took a bunch of pictures and Aiden said he would take a look at them and let me know what he thinks,” I add.

  “Wait, what?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know what got into me. I just grabbed one of the spare cameras and started snapping away. You know, I think I might be pretty good at this. I got some great pictures of some of the locals. It was amazing. I wish you could see some of them.”

  “Send them when you can, okay?” she requests.

  There’s a knock on the door. I jump upright just in time to hear Aiden’s voice.

  “Oh crap, it’s him at the door!” I exclaim in a loud whisper.

  She’s laughing again. “Well, answer it Miss Photographer!”

  “I’ll call you later,” I offer.

  “You better,” she replies before we hang up.

  I open the door, and his blue eyes flicker at me. This isn’t the cool and distant Aiden; this is the one I got to have a meaningful conversation with just last night. He drags a hand through his hair before smiling at me. “I’m sorry, were you busy?”

  He’s looking over my shoulder as if he’s expecting to see someone. Realizing he must have heard me talking to Anna, I giggle.

  “Nope, just got off the phone.”

  “Oh,” he breathes, his chest deflating as his smile disappears.

  “It was the friend from England I told you about,” I add.

  “Anna, right?” he asks, seeming to perk back up.

  It feels awkward standing in the door opening, but I can’t help feeling it would only be more uncomfortable if I were to invite him into my room. “So, you were listening last night?”

  “To every single word,” he confirms. “Is she okay?”

  I find it curious that he would assume people only call when something is wrong. I nod. “She’s just checking in to make sure my new boss wasn’t some sort of international serial killer, preparing to chop my body up.”

  “I wait until at least the third gig before expanding your job description to include murder and mayhem,” he jokes.

  “Good to know,” I chime in, wishing I understood the reason behind his hot and cold exterior.

  “Speaking of third jobs,” he laughs, before pausing.

  “Uh-oh,” my eyebrows lift apprehensively.

  “I promise, it’s nothing too sinister.”

  “Wait, are you seriously offering me more work?” my mouth drops open as I realize at least part of him is serious.

  Aiden fidgets for a moment, his head dropping and a foot swiftly kicking the door frame of my room. “I mean, I was thinking about it, but now that I know you and your friend think I’m a murderer.”

  I shove him in the arm, ensuring the pressure with which I do so would be considered playful. “Stop it. Are you serious?”

  He nods. “I took a look at some of your shots—”

  “And you’re never going to let me borrow your camera again,” I blurt sarcastically. Why do I always head off compliments with sarcasm?

  “Well, if you’d let me get it out,” he continues, glaring at me. “I think you have a great eye.”

  “Did you get the files I sent over with some of the edits I suggested?”

  “I did,” he nods. “I can see you’ve been doing your research. I want to be completely honest with you. I may not be the best teacher, I lack patience, I know I can be moody, but if you’re interested—”

  He stops abruptly, nibbling a moment at his bottom lip as he turns and looks down the long empty hall of the hotel.

  “Really? Why would you do that for me?” I ask, swelling gratitude aching inside my chest.

  “Oh no, let me be straight with you, I have nothing but a selfish motive. There are plenty of jobs I get where a second camera on the job would be helpful. If I hire someone who already has the knowledge, it would cost me a fortune. All I—I mean—you—” he stammers.

  I lean in close, a smile from ear to ear. “You like me.”

  He laughs, taking a step back. “I suppose you’re fine.”

  “Yup, you like me. Don’t worry, people can’t help it. It’s my magnetic personality.” I boast, puffing my chest out.

  “That must be it,” he’s laughing again.

  “Well, I guess that leads me to my proposal,” he stiffens, his face growing more serious.

  I wave my hands, shaking my head. “Whoa, whoa, I don’t know what you were thinking, but just because I agreed to work with you more, I never said anything about marriage.”

  His face turns at least seven shades of red, his lips pressed tightly together. I slam him firmly in the arm this time. “Hey, calm down, I’m just joking,” I exclaim.

  “I know,” he gasps, though from his expression it’s clear I’ve made him uncomfortable. “I mean, of course you were,” he forces a laugh.

  “What was your question?” I ask, hoping to move on, now thoroughly embarrassed by my poorly timed joke.

  “Jumanda is friends with a member of the tourist department for Gaborone City, and they were curious if I—if we would be interested in snapping some images for an upcoming campaign they’re launching.”

  “Are you kidding?” I nearly squeal.

  Aiden draws in a deep breath, and I could swear it looks as if even his eyes are smiling at me. “I mean, if you’re not interested, or need to be back in Chicago for something, I’m sure I could handle things.”

  “Oh no,” I say. “You’re stuck with me now.”

  “So, you don’t need to go home, I mean nobody is expecting you or anything?” he asks, watching me intensely.

  My head tilts as I study him. “I suppose my mother.” I laugh. “How long are we talking?”

  “Couple of weeks, maybe longer,” he answers.

  There are tears. Why in the hell am I crying?

  He reaches out, placing a hand on my arm to support me. “Are you okay?”

  I shake my head, fighting for breath, embarrassed that I lost my composure in front of him. “Just happy.” I choked out at last. “I love this job.”

  A hearty laugh bursts from Aiden’s mouth, and he delivers me a sideways hug, nearly whispering. “It shows in the pictures you take.”

  I blink, looking up at him. He’s so close to me I can smell the soap on him from the shower he must have just taken. “I’m sorry,” I mutter, taking a step back into the safety of my room. He doesn’t follow, but he’s watching me.

  “Don’t be,” he reassures me. “How about we grab some dinner?”

  Relieved for the change in subject I eagerly agree. “Absolutely. Meet in the lobby in twenty?”

  He lingers. He’s not smiling. His eyes are traveling up and down my body. I laugh awkwa
rdly, feeling the scrutiny with which he’s looking at me.

  “Twenty minutes?” I ask again.

  He nods, and without another word, he walks away. I press the door closed and stumbling backward, I collapse onto the bed, my heart pounding in my chest.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Kenzie

  * * *

  “Is this normal?” I ask Aiden, watching as the officers scurry, blocking off traffic, creating a secure location to set up our equipment.

  He coughs, choking on the crumbs of a pastry he just shoved into his mouth. He chews, swallows, and clears his throat. “Is what normal?”

  “Is all of this normal in a photographer’s life?”

  “I’m still not understanding the question.” He looks at me.

  I glance around and motion to the scene unfolding in front of us. “This. All of it. Since I met you, I’ve flown on a private plane to Africa where I got to see an endangered black rhino, and now the city is bending over backward to help you take these pictures.”

  He laughs. “Let’s see. The private plane is rare, usually I’m stuck carrying minimal equipment, and I tend to sleep in the cheapest place I can. Occasionally, I get treats like this trip, but if you’re thinking this life is always so glamorous—”

  “I never said I thought it was glamorous,” I interject with a grin.

  He glances around, grabbing a camera bag as an officer waves us forward. “As far as this five-star treatment, what you’re seeing here is someone trying to cover their ass for not appropriately planning.”

  I shake my head in confusion. “How do you mean?”

  He pauses, looking back at me. “This kind of shoot takes time, permits, planning. I didn’t apply for a single permit and was told whatever I need, just let them know. If I had to guess, there was a budget to bring in tourism and someone let the ball drop. They discovered how far you have to book a project like this and now they’re scrambling. They’re probably just happy they found some idiot to take the job on such short notice.”

  “Wow,” I hiss.