Haunted Love

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Haunted Love Page 16

by Jessica Frances


  “Aiden, you haven’t seen her in months. Just trust me that she’ll appreciate you making a little effort. I have laid out what I think you should wear, and I’m pretty sure we’re lying on it right now. Something is digging into me, maybe the buckle. Could you get off me now?”

  “But I’m naked,” I reply to her dumbly.

  “Well, yeah, I kind of noticed that.” Unbelievably, she then begins wiggling her body under me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m trying to get out from under you since you don’t appear to be in a rush to move.”

  “Can you just wait a second?” I grab her hips and hold her still, taking deep breaths.

  “Wait for what?”

  I can’t tell her I suddenly have the hardest erection of my life. What the hell is wrong with me? It would make Thea incredibly uncomfortable, and I would ruin what little rapport we have managed to gain.

  “I’m going to move, but you have to close your eyes.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I’m naked, and you can’t look at me naked.”

  “That is hardly my fault. You’re the one who flew out here wearing no clothes.” She huffs, but I notice the corners of her mouth twitching. She is trying to keep in her smile. She is definitely finding my predicament hilarious.

  “How else was I going to come out here when you were stealing my clothes?”

  “Well, for one, I didn’t think you could catch me moving your clothes, and I also assumed you would at least use a towel. I hear they also help dry you, too, which is rather handy. And I didn’t plan on waiting in here while you dressed. I was going to check on the cake and grab the bottle of wine you bought yesterday out of the fridge.”

  “You know the gifts are overkill, so are the clothes. She’ll think something is seriously wrong if I suddenly attempt to become her golden child. Or worse, she might think I want to make this a regular occurrence.”

  “I doubt you’ll run the risk of becoming her golden child when we get there late. Now get off me, get changed, and hurry up!” she snaps.

  For whatever reason, no doubt my body just wanting to torture me further, I feel even more turned on. Why does Thea yelling at me make me hornier?

  “Close your eyes, and I promise to move.”

  She rolls her eyes at me before she closes them. I shift away from her, carefully watching for any peeking, before I quickly pull away and turn my back to her as quickly as I can.

  “Nice ass!” she calls out as I quickly shut the bathroom door.

  I smile at her comment, grateful she only saw the back of me and not my traitorous dick in front. I don’t have time to do anything with it, so I turn the hot water off and quickly step into the freezing cold water, letting the chill ease away the tension within me.

  When I’m shivering and no longer sporting a raging hard on, I dry off with my towel. After checking to make sure my bedroom is clear, I move over to the clothes Thea has on top of my bed.

  She’s placed a newer pair of jeans, a fitted navy blue Polo, and some dark brown leather boots. I don’t even remember owning the boots, I can still see the tag on the jeans I vaguely recall buying a couple years ago, and the Polo I think I wore once before it got lost at the back of my closet. Thank God it’s not a suit and tie like I feared, and after I am dressed, I do feel more presentable.

  Thea was right, but I will eat my tongue before I tell her that.

  ***

  I pull up in front of Mom’s house at the same time as Max, my younger brother.

  “You actually showed up?” He raises his eyebrow at me, his surprise seeming genuine.

  “Of course I did. I told Mom I would.” I watch his hand, noticing it ball up briefly before he releases it.

  “Is this your bother? Oh, he’s cute. I can see some resemblance between you, but look at his arms!” Thea gushes as she stands directly in front of Max and gives him the once over while he is clueless to the gawking he’s getting.

  I’m annoyed and, for some stupid reason, jealous of the attention Max is receiving from Thea. As discreetly as I can, I place the bottle of wine under my arm, holding the container with the cake and tarts Thea made, and then I reach out and tug on her arm, pulling her away from Max.

  “You got Mom a present? You actually remembered her birthday?” Max is again shocked. Unfortunately, so am I.

  “It’s your mom’s birthday? Why didn’t you tell me? We could have bought something at the mall yesterday!” Thea hisses at me.

  “Like I’d forget.” I try to sound sure of myself, but I don’t know if I pull it off. I feel like shit that I forgot Mom’s birthday.

  “Doesn’t stop you from forgetting most years,” Max grumbles as he shoves past me.

  Max and I used to get along. In fact, we often spent weekends together, either partying when we were younger, watching whatever sport was on TV, or just grabbing dinner and a few beers after work. But then I had less and less time for him, and after I wasn’t there for him a few times when he needed me, he stopped trying.

  I’m sad that I am not as close with him anymore, that I have no idea what his life is like day-to-day, but I have a duty to the families who need me to solve cases and give them closure. I have a duty to the victims to give them justice. I don’t have time to switch off and go out to dinner with my brother. My work is too important for that.

  “You guys don’t get along?” Thea asks me, apparently finished checking Max out.

  “We just don’t have time for each other anymore,” I tell her quietly.

  I allow myself one last deep breath before I follow Max’s footsteps and head into the house, where I am immediately bombarded by my mother. Her arms come out of nowhere, her hug tight enough to cut off my air supply and her kisses wet enough to rival a dog.

  I definitely have not missed this.

  “Mom, please.” I try to push her back, but the wine and cake are taking up my arm space.

  “Let the poor boy breathe, woman!” Grandma calls out from the living room.

  “I’m so glad you came!” she gushes, her arms gripping mine and her nails digging into my skin. “You look so handsome. Did you buy new clothes?” She looks me up and down.

  “I’ve owned this for ages, Mom.”

  “You sure this isn’t from a woman’s touch?” She winks at me, but then her eyes snap to the wine and cake. “What’s this?”

  “Oh, umm … Happy birthday, Mom.” I try not to sound too awkward or weird, but when she gives me a strange look, I realize Max was screwing with me.

  “It’s not my birthday, dear, that was months ago.”

  I listen to Max laugh from farther into the house, and I have to fight the urge to rush down there and punch the smile off his face.

  “I know. I just realized I missed it, so I wanted to give you this to try make up for it.”

  “You are an awful liar,” Thea tells me softly, shaking her head at me, before photos on the wall of young Max and me distract her.

  “Well, that is nice. Come in, say hello properly to Grandma.”

  I am finally released from the death grip and move to stand in the living room, smiling a little when I hear Max complaining from the back of the house about Mom suffocating him. I will not be saving him.

  “Hi, Grandma. You’re looking nice.” I lean down and give her a kiss on her cheek, but when I attempt to move away, I am tugged back as she grabs my collar.

  “Is your friend still with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is she here now?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Because it would be rude for me to ignore her. Hi, Thea. I hope my grandson is treating you with some respect. Thank you for doing as I asked.”

  “What did you ask her?” I don’t know whether to feel relieved that someone else in the world knows about Thea and actually believes me or annoyed that Grandma is sharing secrets with her.

  “That is between me and your girlfriend.” Grandma smirks at me, her eyes twi
nkling with mirth.

  “Girlfriend?” both me and Thea speak in shock at the same time.

  “Grandma, Thea is dead. She’s not my—”

  “She is not dead. At least, not exactly. I’m sure she doesn’t need you to throw that in her face all the time, either. That won’t make your relationship go any smoother.” She finally releases my collar.

  I stand up straight, wishing the new position would alleviate some of the stress that has tensed up every muscle in my body. It doesn’t.

  “Do you want a drink, Grandma?” I ask her, hoping to change the topic.

  “I have one already. Besides, you might want to stay out of your mother’s path while you can. She has been gushing about seeing you again ever since you agreed to dinner.”

  Guilt eats away at me. “I see you guys all the time.” I look down at my feet, very aware now that time has been flying past me and that seeing them on a regular basis is not at all the case.

  Grandma snorts as she looks past my shoulder. “Can you believe the lies he tells himself, Thea?”

  Thea is actually on the opposite side to where Grandma is speaking, but I see the happiness in her eyes when Grandma speaks to her.

  “Tell her that I think you’re living in complete denial.”

  “I’m not telling her that.”

  “Telling me what? Don’t stifle the poor girl’s voice. You have a duty to speak for her since she is unable, even if you don’t like what she has to say.”

  I roll my eyes. Great, I’m being ganged up on. “She said I’m in denial.”

  “Well, she’s right. Sounds like you have a smart girlfriend, there.”

  “I don’t have a—”

  “You’re seeing someone?” Max asks, walking over to me and passing me a beer.

  “No, I’m not and thanks.” I gesture to the beer and take a long gulp, fearing I might need a lot more of these to get through tonight.

  “Yes, he is. You can tell. Look how filled out he is in his clothes. They used to hang off him. It’s a sign of a good woman in your life when you’re eating properly.” She smiles at me smugly.

  “A woman? You haven’t mentioned a woman to me. Who is she?” Mom picks the perfect time to listen in as she enters the room and sits down next to Grandma on the sofa.

  “There isn’t a woman in my life, Mom. I’m single.” I give Grandma a stern look, but of course, she ignores it.

  “Did your girlfriend also make us all those lovely cakes?” Grandma asks, sounding innocent, yet I know differently.

  I glare at the container in my hands, wishing I had forgotten to bring it with me. “I just bought this at the store—”

  Max snorts, interrupting me. “What, you took it out of the packaging and moved it into one of your own containers just so you could tell us all it is store-bought? The idea is, you do that so you can fake actually making it for real.”

  “Fine, why does a woman have to be the one to make it? Men can cook, too, you know. I easily could have made this.”

  “Yes, men can. You, however, can’t. You burn toast.”

  “I’ve been fending for myself for a few years now. I’ve learned a few things,” I lie. I’m still a hopeless cook.

  “Oh, you don’t have time for your family, but you have time to learn how to fucking bake a cake?” Max growls.

  “Language!” Mom and Grandma snap at Max.

  “Sorry,” he mutters, sounding anything other than.

  “Fine, a woman did cook these, but no, we’re not in a relationship; we’re just friends,” I announce, hoping I haven’t made this situation worse.

  “Well, when can I meet this woman who is just a friend?” Mom pushes.

  I groan. Nope, I definitely should have kept my mouth shut.

  “Never. Now can we just drop this?”

  “You’re not getting any younger, Aiden, and you’re a handsome man who deserves a good woman who can keep you in line and take care of you,” Mom gives her usual lecture.

  “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I’m fine.” I try not to snap too harshly, but I sound like I’m growling at them. I take another large gulp of beer, hoping to take the edge off, although I fear the amount of alcohol I’ll need would end with me passed out on the ground.

  “When I was your age, I was married, and your mother was almost five years old. And I was considered a late bloomer.”

  “Things are different now, Grandma. Besides, Max is only a few years younger than me, so why aren’t you hassling him?”

  “Because he is going to ask his lovely young lady to marry him on their next vacation.” Mom smiles lovingly at Max.

  I instantly have to gulp down my sip of beer or risk spitting it out in shock. “What? You’re dating someone, and it’s that serious?”

  Max glares at me, and there is suddenly some serious tension in the room.

  “Gloria, help me up. I need to powder my nose.” Grandma struggles to stand upright. Mom beats both me and Max to help her up, and then they slowly make their exit, leaving me alone with a fuming Max.

  “Who is she?” I ignore Thea’s raised eyebrow and questioning expression. Why couldn’t she have gone with Mom and Grandma, too?

  “Her name is Abby.” He doesn’t elaborate further than that.

  “And you want to marry her? How long have you been dating?” I suddenly have the urge to ask her last name so I can look her up. I don’t trust that, after such a short amount of time, Max is already thinking about marriage. After how we grew up, Max was always against marriage. Why the sudden change?

  “Fuck you. I can tell what you’re thinking.”

  “Oh, really? When did you become a mind reader?” I snap at him angrily.

  “You’re thinking that she has brainwashed me, and I am an idiot for wanting to get married. Well, you haven’t met Abby, and that is your own fault. I love her and want nothing more in life than to call her my wife. She is my best friend and means everything to me.”

  I bite down the urge to call him pussy-whipped since I know that won’t go over well. Alternatively, I think about his words. He doesn’t sound at all like the Max I know.

  “That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” Thea sighs then begins mooning over him again, which only pisses me off more.

  “She can’t be that important; I haven’t met her yet. Why isn’t she here tonight?”

  Max takes a warning step towards me, obvious fury filling him over my words. “You haven’t met her yet, because you’re not important enough. We have dinner with Mom most Sunday nights, but you just usually never bother to turn up.”

  “I’m fucking busy, Max,” I try to defend myself, also knowing I haven’t been invited over for a long time, either. Most likely because I rarely return Mom’s calls.

  “Yeah, too busy to meet the woman your brother plans to marry,” he scoffs, shaking his head in disgust.

  “I’ve never even heard you mention this woman to me, so how the hell was I supposed to know you wanted to marry her, that she is special to you?”

  “Pick up the damn phone and call me once in a while. We moved in together three months ago, and I didn’t even bother calling you to ask for your help, because I knew you wouldn’t. I mentioned Abby at Christmas almost six months ago, the last time I saw you, but you obviously weren’t interested in listening.”

  I think back to Christmas, not believing it has really been nearly six months since I have seen Max. When did the time start flying by me so quickly?

  “You moved?”

  “Yes,” he snaps.

  “Aiden, how could you let your relationship with your brother get so strained?” Thea doesn’t sound accusing, only sad. I understand she is probably thinking about her own brother and how close they are, but Max and I have drifted apart. This is merely proof of that.

  “Well, congratulations.” I try to sound more enthusiastic, but I can’t. I don’t feel connected to him anymore.

  Max nods, still appearing angry with me.

&nb
sp; “Ask him about her. At least pretend to be interested,” Thea suggests, nudging my arm.

  “So, what is Abby’s last name? Where does she work?”

  “Why? You going to check her past out?” Max snaps. I would roll my eyes at him if I hadn’t already thought about doing just that.

  “Don’t ask him like a cop. Ask how they met. Ask him why she isn’t here tonight. Ask him how he plans to propose!” Thea elbows me again, and I almost drop my beer. I turn and glare at her, but I see the determination in her eyes. She’s going to keep hassling me until I ask.

  “How did you meet, then? How do you know she’s the one you want to marry?”

  “You really want to know?” Max sounds unsure.

  I nod, feeling a little sad at myself that he has to ask that.

  “It’s different with her than with any other woman I’ve been with. I miss her when we’re apart, even if it’s only been a couple hours. I feel better just being around her. She makes me laugh, she makes me happy, and I’d go through hell for her. In fact, I do whenever we have dinner at her parents’ house. Her dad is fucking scary. First time I met him, he had a shotgun in his hand.”

  I laugh a little at that. When I was younger, I definitely had my fair share of run-ins with parents. However, since I haven’t had a serious enough relationship as an adult, I have managed to avoid that nuisance.

  “I met her in a coffee shop when I accidently spilled my coffee all over her. Luckily, it was an iced coffee, so no burning. I still thought she was going to go ballistic on me. She was this incredibly hot woman in a business suit who looked like she was in a massive rush. She told me later she had a big meeting to get to, which she was late for because of me. I felt so bad, and I was already preparing for her to be a bitch to me. But she wasn’t.

  “She looked down at her soaking shirt—which incidentally, clung to her tits nicely at this point—and then laughed. I apologized, but she didn’t make a big deal out of it. She even told me to have a nice day as she rushed off. I couldn’t stop thinking about her all day, and I went to that coffee shop every morning until I bumped into her again—this time without spilling my coffee on her. We talked, and it felt easy. I was already laughing with her. I could see her kindness, and she doesn’t do drama. Do you know how hard that is to find in a woman? I was probably in love with her then, but I held off admitting it to myself for a while. She’s the one for me, and I can’t imagine my life without her.”

 

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