Fierce_Aiden

by Natalie Ann

  “Yes,” she said impatiently.

  “Did I wake you?” he asked.

  “What do you think?”

  He had the gall to laugh. “Well then, I’ll keep that in mind for the future.”

  There wasn’t going to be a future, in her mind, but she’d tell him that in person. It’d be more satisfying that way. “What do you want?” she asked.

  “To see how you’re doing. Are you sick? Your voice sounds off.”

  She’d never admit she cried over him. That’d make her look weak. She’d been looked at as weak too much in her life. Not again. Never again. “You woke me up. Want me to clear my throat in your ear?”

  There was silence on the other end. Good. Maybe he’d hang up now. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  This time she paused. “For what?”

  “I was trying not to draw attention to us today, but by the end of the night I got thinking I crossed too far over to the other side. That maybe it could have come off wrong in your eyes.”

  “You think?” she said before she could stop herself. Darn it, she shouldn’t have answered the phone out of a deep sleep. Should have just let him leave a message.

  “Yeah, and I’m obviously right. Can I pick you up for breakfast tomorrow and we can talk? Let me explain.”

  “What’s there to explain? You just said it. Said you didn’t want to draw attention to us.” She didn’t want to soften but knew what he said made sense, even if she was hurt over it. That was her problem, not his.

  “I’d rather talk in person. I’ll be at your house at eight. Be ready.”

  The jerk hung up before she could tell him what she really thought of him.

  The sad part was, she knew she’d be ready by seven thirty.

  Here We Are

  Aiden knew he had one chance to get this right. He’d handled the whole thing badly. By not thinking of her and her feelings, and by letting his mother’s words influence him, he did something he hadn’t planned on doing. He acted in a way completely opposite of how he would have approached things.

  What he had really wanted to do when he got to work yesterday was walk over and talk to Nic. Sure he’d talk to everyone else too, but he wouldn’t have stood there, stared at her like a girl standing in front of her favorite boy band then gone chasing after the cat that stole his tongue when one of them said hi.

  He would have asked her how her day was going. He would have smiled at her. He wouldn’t have talked as much as he desperately wanted, but then maybe she wouldn’t have bitten his head off when he called last night because he knew deep down he’d screwed up.

  Pulling in front of her grandparents’ house at 7:50 showed her standing on the porch. He wanted to think she was waiting patiently for him, only he figured it wasn’t in a good way. Her arms crossed in front of her chest and her foot tapping told him he was going to get an earful.

  “Hey,” he said, opening the door.

  She marched off the steps and to his SUV before he had a chance to get to the curb. “Let’s go. I don’t want my grandparents to hear us talking.”

  He climbed back in his car and did as she asked, not even bothering to argue. His mama didn’t raise a fool. “What are you in the mood for?”

  “An explanation,” she said.

  “I gave you one last night,” he argued. She turned her head and raised an eyebrow sharp and quick. If he weren’t buckled in right now, he might have jumped back. What the heck? He couldn’t remember the last time a woman made him act this way.

  “You did, and it was plausible, but you also said you wanted to talk to me in person. So here we are. Talk.”

  This wasn’t a conversation he wanted in public, so he turned around and headed for his house. “When I’m not focusing on driving, we’ll talk.”

  “Fine,” she said, her jaw clenching. That had to hurt, but he didn’t comment.

  Ten minutes later, they were pulling into his garage. He’d seen her stiffen once she realized where they were heading, but she never said a word. Now she wasn’t holding back.

  “Why are we here? Going to see if you can cop a feel under my shirt this time, and then ignore me at work later?”

  Wow, she hit below the belt. Good thing he knew that now. Because honestly, he was kind of hoping to get his hands on her again, if only he had a chisel to chip away the wall of ice in his way.

  “I’m not going to ignore you at work later. Not even if you don’t let me kiss you again,” he said, grinning, hoping she’d relax.

  No such luck. “What are you looking for with us? I want that answered first. If all you’re looking for is someone to roll around in your sheets with you, I’m sure you could find that anywhere. But it’s not going to be me.”

  He felt his face fill with heat, then remembered the few times he’d lost his temper and pulled it back. “Yep, you’re right. I could find anyone. I could even find anyone in my kitchen for a night if that was what I wanted, but it’s not. I’ve never dated anyone in my kitchen before. I’ve never slept with anyone I worked with before either. That alone should tell you something,” he said, his voice terser than ever. But damn it all, she wasn’t the only one getting insulted here.

  “Why me?” she asked, her voice softer this time. Calmer. Almost curious, with a hint of insecurity.

  “I don’t know,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “Can we at least get out of the car first?”

  She unbuckled her seatbelt. “Only because I’m hungry.”

  It was better than nothing.

  Once they were in his kitchen, he turned the coffee maker on and then asked, “What do you want to eat? I want to cook for you. And just so you know, I’ve never explicitly cooked for an employee before either. Not a meal and talked to them one on one. Not even at work. I’ve cooked with people, instructed them, and then we sat down and ate and talked it over, but not like this. Not me cooking for someone.”

  “That still doesn’t tell me why you’re doing it for me. What’s so different about me?”

  “Damned if I know.” She turned to walk out of the kitchen, but he grabbed her. “Sorry, that came out wrong. You’ve got me all twisted up inside. I’m not used to this. You want an explanation, fine. I’ll try to give you one.”

  He pulled her to a chair at the island, then sat next to her. “I’m attracted to you. That’s easy and it’s surface, I get it. But it’s not all. There is this thing in you,” he said, his hand going to her stomach and then sliding to her chest. “A passion that matches mine. Not the anger part, but everything else. You see and feel things like I do, even though I can tell you hide it. Why is that?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do. You wanted an explanation and I’m giving it to you. I’m being completely honest with you, so I expect that in return.” He didn’t care if his voice took on the firm tone he held in his kitchen right now.

  “Guys like you don’t want anything to do with someone like me.”

  “And yet here I am telling you otherwise. You’re sitting in my kitchen and I’m going to cook for you. Last time you were here, your butt was on that counter over there and we were showing each other how much that statement was false.”

  Her lips twitched and he felt himself relax slightly. He was making ground slowly. “Obviously I want you. Everyone does.”

  He snorted. “I doubt that.”

  “Open your eyes, Aiden. Don’t tell me you can’t see it in the kitchen.”

  He could, he did, but he always pushed it aside. He wasn’t going down that road. Or so he thought, because here he was making a detour in front of the kitchen supply store with the pot calling the kettle black.

  “I see it,” he finally admitted.

  “And you still want me because of passion? I’m not the only one in the kitchen who has it.”

  “No, you aren’t. But it’s not them I want. It’s you.” He put his head back, searching for words he couldn’t find. “Can’t you just take that and
go with it? Accept it? I wish I could tell you more. I wish I knew. But all I know is that I walk into my kitchen at Fierce and my eyes search yours out. I tell myself to look away so no one sees. So no one can guess. Then I go in my office and try to make excuses to go to your station even when I know it’d be stupid to do that.”

  Her eyes were shifting around his face now, her hand looking like it was going to reach for his. He took the step and threaded his fingers through hers and she let him. Then she held his hand. Just like that. Just that simple. It was enough.

  “I don’t like to be talked about, but I know I can’t do anything about that either,” she said softly, but he had a feeling it was deeper than those words alone.

  “I’ll try harder. I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t look like anything else is going on. But I need you to cut me some slack. I’m going to mess up there. I know it. At the end of the day though, it’s just a show for others.”

  “How am I really supposed to know that?”

  “Just ask me. When you leave and you’re unsure, send me a text. I don’t know, let’s make up a code word.”

  She laughed. “What are we, ten? I don’t need a code word so that I know how you feel.”

  “Seriously? This conversation sure the heck makes me feel that way.”

  “Then I guess it’s my turn to apologize.”

  ***

  “What do you have to apologize for?” Aiden asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Acting like a lunatic this morning.” Though she kind of felt she was justified.

  He smiled. “I don’t know that I’d use that word. But you did have me scared there a few times. You might be little, but you look pretty mighty to me. Mighty mean. Mean enough to claw my face off.”

  “My nails aren’t that long and your face is just too handsome.”

  “You think I’m handsome?” he asked, grinning.

  She rolled her eyes. He had a playful side to him and she was glad to see it coming out now. Kind of sad she made him hold it back, though. “Well, there are four of you I could look at, but really the only one I see is you.”

  He tugged her off the chair and between his legs, his hands on her waist again. “Brody is taken and Aimee is one tough chick. Mason is more concerned with his brewery and Cade is out for a good time.”

  “Sounds like there is a little bit of all of them in you.” She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a little snuggle just because she felt like it. Like she needed it. And since it was right there for the taking, she was going to steal every second of it she could.

  “We share a lot of the same traits, but we’re all different. I’d like to say we all have our identity, but I’m not sure if that’s really the case.”

  She pushed back and eyed him. It was the way he said it, like he wasn’t his own person. That was the furthest thing from the truth she’d ever heard. “That’s crazy.”

  “Is it?” he asked. “We’re always compared to each other. We look alike…not identical, but it doesn’t matter. Brody is the biggest and the loudest. Cade is the most vocal and carefree. Mason the smart quiet one, and me.”

  “You’re the most confident,” she said. “The surest of yourself. The one the rest of them want to be like.”

  He laughed. “I highly doubt that. I might agree with the confident part, but in our own ways—even Ella—we are all pretty cocky.”

  “The Fierce Five,” she said. “I’m thinking it has more than one meaning to it.”

  “Could be,” he said. “Bottom line is…we have all tried to be our own person, and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. You mentioned you didn’t like to be talked about, and I get that. Rarely were we each referred to as one person, rather than as a whole. We’ve been compared to each other our whole lives.”

  She nodded, understanding more than she cared to admit. Sometimes there was no escaping family, good or bad. Rumors, lies, or the truth.

  “Are we good now?” she asked. “Because I really am hungry.” The last thing she wanted to do was push more of this conversation and have any of it turn back to her.

  “I’m good. But I wasn’t the one that was ticked off. So the question is, are you good? Did I mess up so much you don’t want to give me another chance?”

  She leaned up on her tiptoes, put her lips to his, started out slow, then sped it up. “I’m more than good. Why don’t you make me breakfast? Your choice. And if we have enough time, then we can see where your hands end up.”

  Thing for Older Men

  That was a week ago. He’d made Nic breakfast; then they cleaned up and talked some more. It was nice to be able to have a conversation with someone about more than just food.

  He found they shared a lot of the same likes in music and movies. Neither one of them were really into sports or outdoor activities other than walking or swimming.

  They didn’t frequent gyms, didn’t ride bikes or hike, or anything other people their age did in their free time. Nic said she’d love to travel, but never had the means to see the world, to snap as many pictures as she could to just look at and remember whenever she wanted. He’d thought that was an odd statement, but then thought back to everything he remembered in his head from his travels. Pictures would have been nice, something more than quick shots on his phone.

  She’d been working for her grandparents since before she was a teen. Living with them most of her life too. He wished he knew more of her story, but had been afraid to ask. All he knew was that her parents were both alive but not around. He hadn’t been willing to push the issue with that just yet.

  What he did wish he could do was increase the amount of time they spent together.

  He worked a ridiculous number of hours and she was scheduled for quite a few herself. She started earlier than him, but went home before he did. The bulk of their interactions had been her coming to his house before her shift, them working together in his kitchen on different things, or just talking for an hour or so.

  Even then, it wasn’t as much as he’d prefer, but he’d take what he could get and be happy with it.

  Tonight though, it was Tuesday and Nic was closing the pub kitchen. Her first time and he was thinking it’d be slow. There’d be other staff cleaning up, so they really wouldn’t be alone for the entire time, but there wouldn’t be as many wandering eyes either.

  So when eleven rolled around, the restaurant kitchen closed down for the night, the staff gone and the last of the pub staff leaving with the exception of Nic and Abby, he decided to go out into the bar and grab a beer. He didn’t often do that, but figured it wouldn’t hurt. Anything to avoid leaving right now. Most times he drank with Mason at the brewery, more for sampling and recipes.

  Tonight he wanted to relax.

  “Hey, what brings you out here?” Brody asked. “I thought for sure you’d be gone by now.”

  “I can’t have a beer and relax after a long day? See how everything is going?”

  “Sure, you can. It’s pretty slow, as you can see. I don’t know that anyone else will be ordering food.”

  “Probably not. Nic looked like she was already cleaning up in advance anyway. Abby had the plating station all cleaned up too, just standing around at this point. I’ll give it another ten minutes and tell her to shut down. I doubt anyone is going to come wandering in looking for food now.”

  “Not likely. Haven’t had an order in about thirty minutes for food.”

  “Oh,” Aiden said. Now he felt bad. Anyone else would have come out to talk to Brody and they would have made that decision together. He was guessing no one said anything to Nic about it, though Abby knew better and he was wondering why she didn’t say anything.

  “Sorry, I would have gone back and said something myself, but figured she might be doing something else. I know you’ve got her making the cannoli and such.”

  “My fault. I’ll take care of it.” He grabbed the beer that Brody had filled for him at random. He’d never been fussy and liked pretty much everything Mason
brewed.

  “Looks like you’re all cleaned up,” Aiden said to Nic.

  She was wiping down another counter off to the side. The cleaning crew would be in at midnight to take care of the floors, and wipe and sterilize everything again. He just wanted staff to clear counters off and wipe down as best they could. She’d done more than she really needed to when he saw the cleaner on the counter.

  “It’s been a little slow, so I figured I’d just get ready for when it was time to close.”

  “You can close down now. Shut down the fryers and everything else. I just told Abby to leave. Brody said no one has ordered in thirty minutes. My fault, but I should have asked if they’d told you when that happens to go chat with whoever is in the bar, normally Brody, and he’ll make the final call to shut down.”

  “Not a problem,” she said. “I was happy to be on my own. A little nervous, even though I know it’s just a small menu after ten. I kind of wish it was busier, but glad I got my feet wet this way.”

  He held his beer out to her. “Have you tried this yet? Oh wait, you are twenty-one, right?”

  She burst out laughing. “You know I am.”

  “Just checking. I mean they always say short people look younger, so maybe you’re only eighteen. At least I know I can’t be arrested for feeling you up,” he whispered close to her ear.

  “Twenty-four, if you must know. Younger than you by quite a few years. You’re old.”

  He choked on the beer he’d put back to his mouth after she’d taken a sip. “That’s mean.”

  “It is,” she said. “But maybe I’ve got a thing for older men.”

  “Because thirty is so old.”

  “Older than twenty-four,” she said back, taking her apron off.

  “Are you in a hurry to get home?” he asked her.

  “Not really. Why, did you want to show me something?” she asked.

  It was the look in her eyes. A naughty playful one mixed in with the desire he’d been seeing often from her when they’d been alone. One that had a dare to it, like she was silently saying, “What can I do to make you come after me some more?”