by Teague, AS
When we finally arrived, the limo driver opened the door for us and Mel climbed out first. I slid out carefully behind her, and the driver handed me my crutches.
I’d thought about planning a date at my house, but we’d spent enough time there the last couple of weeks. It was time that I ventured out and tried to navigate on crutches until my leg was strong enough to walk on without assistance again.
A man wearing a long curly wig and knitted cap appeared in front of us, and I leaned into Mel. “Is he wearing capri pants?”
She rolled her eyes. “Those would be called breeches. Along with the Monmouth cap and poet shirt, this was typical attire for sailors and laborers in the seventeenth century.”
The tour guide’s eyes grew wide as he smiled and bent at the waist. “My lady, you know your history.” He took her hand in his and placed a light kiss on the back of it.
Mel blushed and nodded. “I minored in History.” She lifted a shoulder. “I love it.”
The tour guide released her hand and then turned to me and frowned. “Mister Shaw. Will you be requiring a wheelchair for this tour?”
Mel’s brow wrinkled, and I asked, “What do I need a wheelchair for? This is a guided tour.”
The frown on his face deepened, and he glanced around nervously and then broke character. “Uhm, Mr. Shaw. This is a guided tour, yes. But it’s a walking tour.”
I stared at him blankly as I tried to process what he’d just said. “You mean there isn’t like a covered wagon to drive us around the park?”
Mel stifled a giggle as the guide sadly shook his head. “No, sir. The only covered wagons we have are stationary.”
“And there aren’t any Jeeps or tour buses or any fucking thing? We’re supposed to walk almost fifty acres?” My voice was growing louder with each word I spoke. I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid, but I’d never been on any sort of guided tour before. Definitely not to look at shacks in the middle of the woods. The closest I’d ever come to seeing a blacksmith was Gendry on Game of Thrones. How was I supposed to know that this was all going to be on foot?
I glanced down, my leg in a brace that was bendable but just barely, and then I looked to where Mel stood beside me, her feet covered in a pair of stylish flats. At least they weren’t heels.
“Fuck,” I groaned.
Mel put a hand on my bicep. “It’s okay. We’ll walk. You have wheelchairs?” She turned back to our tour guide and flashed him a brilliant smile, one so bright that it made the man blush and stutter as he tried to respond.
“Ye-yes, madam, we do.” He bowed at the waist, and I rolled my eyes. “Wait here, and I shall fetch it for ye.”
Mel giggled, and we watched the guide scramble off toward what I assumed was a supply house. It just looked like a cabin in the woods to me, but Mel breathed, “Look at that architecture. Pretty impressive for the sixteen hundreds, huh?”
“Mm,” I grunted in response, still trying to figure out how the hell I was going to recover from this ridiculous blunder. I must look like a damn fool to not realize that a guided tour did not include transportation.
“Hey,” Mel said softly, linking her fingers with mine. She turned her body toward mine and pressed to her toes, placing a kiss on my cheek. “This is amazing.”
Her soft lips on my cheek did nothing to soothe my bruised ego. “Yes, my idiocy is totally amazing.”
It was her turn to groan. “No, your thoughtfulness is amazing. This is just a little bump in the road, that’s all.”
The guide returned, pushing what had to be the ricketiest wheelchair I’d ever seen. “Here we go, sir.” He bent at the waist again as he presented the death trap to me.
“What, did you salvage this from the seventeenth century also?”
Mel giggled, and it quickly turned in to a full-blown belly laugh. When she finally managed to catch a breath, she commanded, “Sit ye ass in thine royal chair and quit ye whining.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mel
“This has to be the most humiliating day of my life,” Aiden grumbled.
I pushed him in the wheelchair the park had provided along the path, the tour guide prattling on about the settlement and the history.
“Shhhh!” I hissed. “I can’t hear what he’s saying over your whining.”
Aiden’s neck stretched as he looked over his shoulder and glared. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
I nodded. “Immensely.”
Aiden had asked the guide to push him, but we’d been informed that it was against park rules. He’d wanted to leave, but I’d refused. I didn’t mind pushing him; Lord knows I probably needed the exercise anyway.
“Are your feet okay?” he asked, guilt lining his handsome face.
They weren’t. The flats I’d worn were meant for style, not comfort, but I wasn’t going to make him feel any worse and tell him that my feet were throbbing. “Yep, I am all good. Now stop talking, so I can hear what he’s saying!”
Aiden’s eyes narrowed for a second before he turned back to where the guide was pointing to a log cabin.
We’d done a loop of the main settlement, visited the blacksmith, and watched a demonstration. I could tell that Aiden had been bored, but I’d been fascinated by the various artifacts that were preserved inside the buildings, stopping to gaze at nearly every one of them. Despite his obvious boredom, he’d listened as I oohed and aahed over everything, marveling over the way things had been so perfectly preserved considering they were hundreds of years old. He’d even asked the guide a few questions, trying his hardest to stay interested in something that was not nearly as fascinating to him as it was to me.
All too soon, we were back where we’d started, the tour over, and even though I would have terrible blisters soon, I’d been sad that our tour was coming to an end. After we said goodbye, I helped Aiden back into the limousine that was waiting and settled in beside him.
He laced his fingers through mine and sighed. “Well, that was a failure. Hopefully, part two is better.”
My lips tipped down. “That was anything but a failure. I loved every bit of it.”
“You had to push me around like I was a kid in a stroller.”
I nudged him with my elbow. “Well, you did complain like you were five.”
His lips pressed together. “I did not.”
I arched a brow.
“Okay, maybe a little. But this is supposed to be the date that knocks your socks off, and you had to do manual labor. How romantic is that?”
I laughed. “You obviously spent time planning our visit, which to me is more romantic than a candlelit dinner on the beach.”
“You’re so full of shit. Don’t think I didn’t notice you limping back to the limo.”
I scooted over in the seat until I was practically in his lap and grasped his face in my hands. “I loved it. So, shut up.”
His lips parted, probably to protest, but I silenced him quickly, my lips crashing to his. He reacted quickly, his hands thrusting into my hair and holding my head in place as he explored my mouth with his. Our tongues danced together as though they’d done this choreographed routine countless times before. And just like the first time, my skin broke in to goose bumps, my pulse humming in my veins.
Aiden’s hands on me, his fingertips digging gently into my scalp while his large frame dwarfed mine, was so sexy that I worried I would combust. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pressed closer to him, wanting to be as close as possible, knowing that no matter how close we were, it wouldn’t be enough.
His hands slid down the back of my neck and roamed over my back as he continued to ravage my mouth with his own. I could have kissed him forever, but I knew that if we didn’t stop for air soon, I’d be ripping his clothes off in the back of the limousine, and that was definitely not the way I wanted to end the date.
I pulled away, gasping as he pulled my mouth back to his, nipping at my lip. “Don’t pull away,” he murmured.
I didn’t w
ant to. I wanted to lose myself in him, in his scent, in the way everything in the world melted away when kissed me like that. “We’re going to end up naked if I don’t pull away,” I gasped again.
“I don’t see a problem with that,” he rumbled, and my lips twitched.
“I’m not that kind of lady.” I pretended to be offended, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side as he settled back in the seat.
I laid my head on his shoulder and asked, “So, what’s part two?”
“You’ll see.”
I stayed tucked against his side for the rest of the drive, and before I knew it, the limo was coming to a stop. The driver pulled the door open, and while I was eager to see what else Aiden had in store, I was sad that we had to leave what had become our little cocoon.
I slid out of the back seat, Aiden right behind me. Despite being in a leg brace and on crutches, he was getting around surprisingly well considering the extent of his injury.
We were in the downtown district of Green Bay, the streets lined with cute storefronts and hip dining.
Aiden led the way to a heavy wooden door, the handle a large piece of iron in the shape of a block of cheese, and said, “After you.”
I stepped inside the dimly lit bar and murmured, “The Antelope Wine Lounge?”
A hostess met us immediately and smiled brightly. “Mr. Shaw. So good to see you. Right this way.”
I arched a brow in his direction as we slowly followed the woman. She finally came to a stop in an intimate room, candles lit on the table and two wine glasses all ready for us.
Aiden grinned. “I know the owner. We’ve got the entire back room to ourselves and over one hundred different wines and cheeses to sample.”
He gestured for me to sit and then followed me into the side of the booth.
My stomach turned as the smell hit me. “Did you say cheeses?”
There was pride written all over his face as he gave a quick jerk of his chin. “Yep. I figured this would be the perfect place to end our evening. What’s not to like about a variety of wines and meat and cheese plates? I’ve been here a few times, and each time the cheese has been incredible.”
I swallowed hard and pressed my lips together, searching for the right way to break it to him. Finally, I just decided to say it. “Aiden, I can’t eat cheese.”
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean, you can’t eat cheese?”
I sighed. “If I eat cheese, this date will end with me in the bathroom and you running for the hills.”
“I’m still not following you,” he grumbled.
“I’m lactose intolerant. If I eat cheese, I pray for a quick death twenty minutes later.”
His mouth fell open. “But you love ice cream.”
I nodded. “Yep. I used to only get a little queasy, but over the years it’s gotten worse.” I lifted a shoulder. “I can’t eat ice cream anymore either.”
Aiden’s frown deepened, and he hung his head. “Well, there go my plans for our next date.”
I nudged him in the ribs. “I’m sure they have other things here, right?”
He shook his head. “Bruschetta. They have cheese and bruschetta. You gonna have dry bread and tomatoes for dinner?”
I beamed. “I freaking love tomatoes and dry bread.”
His eyes narrowed. “You are so full of shit. You’re just trying to make me feel better.” He slapped a hand on his forehead. “How the hell could this have gone so completely wrong? It’s Brooke and Griff’s fault.”
It was my turn to be confused. “How is it their fault?”
“I asked for some advice, and all Brooke said was not to fuck it up. Looks like that’s exactly what I did.”
I giggled. “You did not. How were you supposed to know that I can’t eat dairy anymore?”
The waitress appeared at our table and asked politely if we were ready to order.
“Not yet. But I can tell you we won’t be having the cheese,” Aiden grumbled.
She tipped her head to the side, but I quickly shook mine and said, “We need another minute. But I’d love to try a Sav Blanc. Maybe from Chile?”
She straightened and began to tell me about the different offerings they had, and I finally told her to surprise me when she turned to Aiden.
“Bourbon. Make it a double.”
I arched a brow, but he just shook his head. “I need something to make me feel better about what a disaster this date’s been.”
The waitress pressed her lips together, her eyes wide, and backed away from the table quietly, not bothering to say another word.
“Great job,” I quipped. “Now she thinks you’re on a terrible date. She’s probably in the back trying to figure out how to slip you her number.”
The crease in his brow softened as a sly smile spread across his face. “Melanie Holstein. Are you jealous?”
I scoffed. “Uh, no.”
His hand crept across the table, and he laced his fingers in mine and gave a reassuring squeeze that I didn’t need. “I promise you, the only number I’m interested in is yours. Lucky for me, I’ve already got it.”
The waitress returned and placed our drinks on the table, her eyes immediately going to our locked hands. Just as I figured, her shoulders slumped slightly before she righted herself and asked if we were ready to order.
“Bring us everything on the menu that doesn’t include cheese,” Aiden said before handing them back to her without us even opening them.
Her mouth fell open and she sputtered, “Everything that doesn’t have cheese? Are you sure? That’s, like, a lot of stuff?”
Aiden grinned. “Yep.”
She still looked incredulous as she nodded and turned away before scurrying off to put our order in with the kitchen.
“We don’t need everything they have, Aiden. And you are more than welcome to eat cheese. My intolerance isn’t contagious, ya know.”
He ran the pad of his thumb over the back of my hand and murmured, “Just taking one for the team.”
I took a small sip of my wine, my lids fluttering shut as the hints of grapefruit hit my taste buds. “Mmm. This is good,” I murmured before opening my eyes.
Aiden’s gaze was intense, his sapphire-blue eyes shining as he watched me, his own hand wrapped around his glass.
“What?” I asked.
His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, and I couldn’t stop myself from following the motion, wishing that it were my lips he was licking. “I haven’t thanked you.”
His voice was husky, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.
“Thanked me?” I questioned. “What do you have to thank me for?”
His fingers flexed in mine, our hands still joined, and he cleared his throat. “Everything.”
My stomach flipped. I knew that he was thanking me for being by his side after his injury, but there was more to it. It wasn’t just a simple ‘Hey, I appreciate your help.’
It was my turn to force the emotion that threatened to clog my throat away, and I said, “It’s no problem.” I tried to sound light and airy. “It’s nothing.”
He leaned into my space, his lips at my ear, and whispered, “It’s everything.”
His breath on my neck, the cologne that he wore that was so very manly but not overpowering, and the sip of wine had my head swimming. I couldn’t form a coherent thought, the desire to kiss him, among other things, the only thing that was racing through my mind.
Luckily, I was saved by the waitress as she delivered plates upon plates of food, different meats and fruits, warm dips and cold salads, and, of course, bruschetta piling the table in front of us.
“This is ridiculous,” I chided, unable to keep the smile off my face.
“Have I passed the test?” Aiden asked playfully, all traces of the serious man who had just been watching me intently gone.
I tapped a finger to my lips and pretended to think about it. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen you hold a fork and knife
yet.”
Aiden finally released my hand and snatched the silverware from the table. “How’s this?” He scooped a piece of salami onto his plate and began to gently cut it with the knife, all the while watching me.
I let out an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose.” And then, because I couldn’t resist myself, I grinned wickedly and murmured, “You certainly know how to handle your meat.”
He popped the fork in his mouth and winked. “You’re damn right I do.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mel
The rest of our date had gone smoothly, no more bumps in the road, and before I knew it, the limo was pulling in front of my rental house.
Aiden’s arm was wrapped around my shoulders, and I was snuggled into his side, my head resting on his shoulder. We’d eaten some of everything on the table, every bit of it delicious, and I’d sampled several different wines, resulting in a slight loss of inhibitions.
“Well,” I breathed, “this is me.”
His fingertips traced the curve of my shoulder, and I tipped my head back.
His lips came to mine, the kiss soft and gentle. His tongue swept across the seam of my mouth and then met mine, the bourbon that lingered there sweet. It was slow, the way he tasted me, and all too soon, he was pulling away.
“I’m sorry that you had to push me around half the night.”
I pressed my lips to his once more and then shook my head. “I’m not. Thank you for tonight.”
“No, thank you for finally letting me take you out. It was long overdue.”
The driver pulled the door open, and I’d just slid out the door when Aiden called after me, “Oh, Mel. Don’t forget. Dr. Reed is flying in tomorrow morning to examine my leg.”
I bent at the waist and poked my head back in the door. “Oh! That’s right. Do you need me to take you?”
“Nah. Sandy’s gonna drive me.” He shook his head. “It really is like being in middle school again. But I feel really good. I think I’ll finally be able to get out of this brace.”