STEALING IT

by Robinson, Rachel

  The arm behind me slips onto my shoulders, and when I turn my head up to glimpse his face, he’s smirking. My stomach flips. “Ironically my work is sort of my outside of work hobby as well. All the things I have to be good at for my job, are the things I enjoy. I don’t particularly like wasting time on things that won’t serve me well.”

  Something about the last sentence doesn’t sit well with me. “Like relationships?” I shouldn’t care, shouldn’t have asked, but the maturity motherhood has bestowed upon me will always win out.

  “I’ve had relationships. A couple of them. My deployment and work up schedules typically don’t allow for much else.”

  “But now you’re able to…use the app,” I reply, unable to explain more eloquently when he’s looking at me with that dimple firing at my core.

  Aidan grins, white teeth on display. “It does. I have more free time now. Bronze Bay isn’t exactly a hotbed for terrorists.” At the reminder of the war that raged our country for years, a chill prickles my skin, and my mood diminishes. It was years of terror attacks, fighting war on American soil, sleepless nights, and heart in your throat days when all you could do was watch the news and pray there weren’t any bad guys hiding in your neighborhood—in plain sight. That’s why there are so many new military bases scattered throughout the U.S. It’s why the SEALs came to Bronze Bay, Florida.

  I remember watching the news as they announced all the new cities around America that would house special operations forces. That was years ago and a new way of life, of being on alert, is the new norm. “It must be a good change of pace then,” I say, trying to keep my mind off the horror of the past and the memories that will be burned into my mind for the rest of time.

  “It is,” Aidan remarks. “What about you? Tell me about yourself.”

  Facing the water, I keep my gaze off him and on the horizon. “My house is right over there,” I say, distracting myself and hopefully him. “See those lights?” I point to an outlet on the other side of the bay.

  He nods.

  “That’s my neighbor’s yard. You could probably get to my house quicker by boat than car,” I joke.

  “You’re avoiding my question.”

  Sighing, I say, “I wasn’t ready for actual conversation. I figured we’d get right to it,” I explain, making a lewd gesture with my hands.

  He pulls me in tighter. “Is that what you want then? To get right to it? I was trying to make polite conversation because that’s where it seemed you wanted to go.”

  “No, no. I’m glad we’re talking, it was just unexpected, that’s all. I didn’t come up with any interesting facts to tell you about my life.”

  “You didn’t have time to come up with lies?” he counters.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  He quirks one brow. “You didn’t have to.”

  “That big, pastel purple Victorian house in town? The one that sells antiques?”

  Aidan’s eyes light up. It’s hard to miss. Everyone knows it. It’s purple and I didn’t have the heart to change it when I took it over.

  “Yeah, that’s yours?”

  “Magnolia’s Steals,” I reply dryly. “That’s my store. I collect and sell antiques. It was a casual hobby while I was married, but now it’s what I do full time. There’s an online store where a lot of my business takes place. I liked the idea of keeping an actual store where people could come in and touch things—see treasures from the past. I’m a sucker for a good story and all of the furniture and jewelry and random bobs and bits have a story.” I shrug. It’s on the table. My life. Kendall and the shop. And my sordid breakup. “You basically know everything about me now.”

  “Wow. That’s really impressive. I…like antiques.”

  I snort. “Your house is the opposite of classic. It’s all modern, Aidan. You don’t have to pretend to like something just to get in my pants. Truth is, you were already headed there the second you smiled.”

  “My smile?” Aidan teases, widening the very grin I’m talking about.

  I look away. “That’s the one.”

  “Here’s the thing, this sofa might be considered modern now, but one day it will be an antique, right? It will tell the story of when I kissed the beautiful, Magnolia Sager for the very first time.”

  “That is a pretty interesting story,” I reply, cocking my head. “And how many other women were kissed for the first time on this modern loveseat?”

  He coughs and drags his hand across his mouth to cover a smile. “You’re the only one who matters.”

  “Right now,” I deadpan. When his smile falls, I put him out of his misery. “It’s fine. Honestly. I don’t want anything long term. Casual is something I’ve never tried before.”

  “You realize you are in the minority, then? Most women don’t want to know or think about women that have come before them.”

  “And you? Do you want to think about the man that came before you?”

  Aidan clears his throat. “Well, not really. I know enough to know that your ex didn’t treat you properly. I may be into casual dating, but if I ever find a woman I want to keep forever, that’s a game changer. You can guarantee I’d be faithful. I’m honorable when it comes to promises and vows.”

  I nod. “That’s one good quality,” I say.

  “One?” Aidan barks. “That’s two in my column. You told me you liked my smile.”

  “That goes in the bad column. The smile will get me into trouble.”

  “The good kind of trouble, no?” he teases, biting his lip.

  I stand with my empty wine glass and bring it to the kitchen. “That remains to be seen, Aidan Mixx,” I say, grabbing the bottle and pouring another glass. “How am I getting home by the way? Spending the night?” Spinning to face him, I waggle my eyebrows.

  “No spending the night,” he says, shaking his head, sliding his own glass onto the counter. “I’ll drive you home.”

  “No sleepovers in casual dating? I thought as long as I was gone by morning, we’d be clear?” That’s what I’ve seen on sitcoms and movies. It can’t be far off.

  His smile is forced. “I don’t sleep well with other people,” he says, swallowing hard. And that may be the very first peek into his true personality I’ve seen tonight. A fact that perhaps, others don’t know about him.

  When I go to take a sip of wine, he catches my hand before the glass touches my mouth. “Enough of that. I want you to be alert when we go back there,” he says, hiking a thumb over his shoulder.

  “Oh, are you my daddy? Telling me what I can and can’t drink?”

  Another lip bite. My head swims. “I can be your daddy,” he says. “I’d rather not, but I can be whatever you want me to be. Casual dating,” he explains, raising both brows. “It’s impressive. Whatever you want.”

  I set the almost full glass down with a shaky hand. “Point taken,” I say, nodding. “Show me your room?”

  He grabs my hand and leads me out of the living area and down the short hall to his room. The space is darkened by curtains, Aidan hits a switch and a dim glow illuminates the space. The bed is…antique. It’s a double bed with a black, wrought iron frame. The finials on the corners of the bedposts are ornate, giving me all the clues I need as to age and make. As I take in my surroundings, I drag my hand over the beautiful frame. “This is nice. Where did you get it?” I ask, turning to meet his eyes.

  “I acquired it when I became a SEAL. I needed a bed and this one was sitting on the side of the road with a free sign taped to it. Not the best story, but I’ve kind of grown attached to it, I guess.”

  Another truth. “Well, I think it’s a great story and I’m glad you kept it. It’s in great condition,” I say, examining the grooves and notches where it’s been welded. The newer frames that try to replicate this style have cleaner lines. “It’s a small bed,” I say, offering a crooked smile. “Doesn’t that inhibit your hobbies?”

  “Now is the time that I show you how much I am not inhibited by the size of my bed,” he c
ounters, closing the space between us in two large steps. “Right?” he asks.

  My breathing speeds and my stomach tightens. I’m in unknown territory, so even though I know this is a normal feeling, I can’t control my hands as they clench and unclench by my side. Aidan runs his hands down my arms and ends with my fists inside his palms. He eases them open using his thumbs, laying his forehead against mine. “Just feel it,” he says, leaning down to brush his lips against mine, shaking his head no.

  “You lied,” I say. “Weren’t you supposed to kiss me for the first time out there?” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. “On the sofa. In front of the windows?”

  He backs me up, walking toward the bed. “I did lie. Only because I wanted to kiss you on my bed first.”

  “Why? Because I know how much it’s worth?” I say, grinning against his lips. We’re not kissing, our mouths are merely lingering close, sharing breath, making me light headed with the need for more.

  “No, because I kiss all of the women on the couch first. You’ll be the first kiss in my bed.”

  “Well, isn’t that romantic in a casual dating sort of way?” I counter, smiling in spite of the absurdity of it all.

  “It’s romantic in every sort of way,” he says, laying me back on the bed. He drops a kiss on my collarbone, and then my neck, his warm lips prickling my cool skin. Aidan holds himself off me as I scoot up on his bed until my head hits pillows. It smells like it’s been freshly laundered, but at this point, I don’t want to think of why. I need to push his conquests aside if I’m going to enjoy myself.

  He pulls his lips away and rises to his knees. He yanks his shirt off and tosses me a lopsided grin. My mouth goes dry as I stare at him. “Are you even real? I didn’t know muscles looked like that in real life,” I manage.

  He flexes his abs and I count at least eight on first glance. “It’s part of my job,” he replies.

  “Right. You don’t enjoy reaping the benefits of your job at all?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

  His grin spreads, and my heart skips a beat. “It does grant me some privileges I might not have otherwise. Like having you in my bed.” Aidan unbuttons his jeans, keeping his gaze on mine. “So, you have less trouble later,” he whispers. A clear-headed Magnolia would tell him I’m a confident, capable woman who needs no help unbuttoning a man’s jeans, but Aidan does possess another sense. A sex sense and I would need help.

  My skin feels like it’s fire and ice as he moves a hand under my tank top. I’d watch if I wasn’t so fascinated with how the lines in his biceps rise and lower under his skin anytime he moves even the slightest bit. My ex-husband isn’t bad looking by any stretch of the imagination. He’s long and lean and always stays in shape by running. Comparing Aidan and Paul would be like comparing apples and oranges—Chris Hemsworth to John Krasinski circa The Office, a non-comparison, really. Aidan kisses my ear, gently nudging. “You’re overthinking it,” he says, sliding his hand up my stomach and under the front of my bra, his fingers splaying across my ribcage.

  “How can you tell?” I say, my words a bit muffled by ragged breaths. “You’re right, but how can you tell?”

  Aidan brings his face in front of mine, his eyes dark, his tongue dragging across his bottom lip. “I’m good at this. I can tell.” Another truth spoken with a rough, toe-curling edge.

  I sigh, long and heavy. “I wish you weren’t so good at this,” I counter.

  “Doubtful you’ll hold on to that wish once we get started,” he quips back, leaning down. “Close your eyes and part your lips.”

  I do as he orders, and he slides his hand over my breast and makes a pleased sigh the second his lips meet mine. He tastes of masculinity, the formidable, heady scent that invades your head right before a man invades your body. Reaching up to twine my fingers in his hair, I pull him closer so his bare chest is against me and I’m fully consumed at all angles by him—his bulging arms by my sides, his pecs on my chest, his mouth against mine, captivating all of my senses.

  Aidan’s tongue lashes out against mine and this kiss turns deadly—sucking away any chance I had at keeping a level head. His dominating presence takes away any preconceived notions that I’ll leave this room as the same woman who entered. My mind is a mottled mess, and my body is only attuned to his touch. He reminds me to keep my eyes closed, a murmur against my lips, in a brief pause, and he continues to kiss me and lavish me with his expert mouth and warm, purposeful touch.

  The doorbell rings. Not in the cliché way in movies where a passionate coupling is broken up by a loud noise, it actually happens. Then again. And again, when he doesn’t respond right away. Aidan pushes a loud, annoyed breath through his lips and hops off the bed. I lean up on my arms, flushed and confused.

  “Don’t move a muscle. I’ll be right back,” he says, eyeing me down from the doorway.

  Of course, as soon as he disappears from view, I follow him.

  Chapter Three

  Aidan

  STACEY? TRACEY? MACY? LACY? I can’t remember her name, but her eyes are a familiar shade of fucking furious. She’s in my doorway, peering around my body and up the stairs. “Hey, darling. A little busy right now. What can I help you with?” I give her the smarmy drawl, but this bomb isn’t defusing. Fuck.

  “Who do you have in there tonight, Aidan?” the woman squeals out, hands clenched on her hips. “Huh? Who is hiding in there?” Her tone is loud and screeching as she directs her question upstairs. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Her blue, anger hazed eyes meet mine. “You told me you’d call me. Did you change your number? I’ve been calling you.”

  “Baby, baby. You knew it wasn’t more than a night,” I say, trying to keep my voice down. “I don’t do callbacks.” It’s kind of a lie. The fact that this woman isn’t memorable in any sort of way tells me why I didn’t call her back. I can’t even picture what she looks like naked. The wildcat in front of me is making me nervous so I can’t turn around, but I sense Magnolia is behind me, upstairs, listening to this madness.

  “Don’t do callbacks? What the fuck are you? A gigolo?” the wildcat yells.

  Raising and lowering my hand, I signal for her to keep her voice down. “I have neighbors,” I say. “Please keep your voice down.” Shaking my head, I wrap my brain around this situation. If I were downrange, I’d have several plans ready to go. Backup plans for backup plans. Why should I treat this any differently? My mind spins a quick, effective plan.

  “Bullshit. Your neighbors? You have a woman in there,” she hisses. This is what fucking around in a small town has gotten me. I knew it would come to a head and my past women would collide, it was inevitable, but I didn’t envision it happening on a night that seemed so different. “Don’t you? Answer me! My friend told me not to go on a date with you, but I didn’t listen because you seemed like a decent guy.” I cringe. Internally. I’ll fix this in any way I can. Even if that means putting a Band-Aid on a gaping, oozing gash.

  “Listen, sweetie, I don’t have just any woman in there. My woman is in there. My girlfriend,” I say, nearly choking on the last word. “That’s why I didn’t call you back,” I explain, keeping my voice down in hopes Magnolia doesn’t hear my seething lies. “I hope you understand, it’s not personal. I didn’t expect it. It happened suddenly.” Wildcat is buying the story, I can see her heart breaking inside her eyes, the fury slipping—anger turning into despondent sadness. “She’s important to me.” Nail in the coffin.

  Finally, she breaks eye contact, glancing down at the welcome mat she’s standing on. “Oh,” she says. “You could have called me back even if it was to tell me this. Now I feel stupid.”

  Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I sigh, making sure not to make any noise and close my eyes in relief.

  “I hope she can fix you,” Wildcat sneers.

  No woman can fix me. Not in a million years. Not after all of the damage that’s been done. I’d never tell anyone that. Especially not this insignificant woman trying to make me feel bad about my life. Instead, I no
d and screw up my face in what I hope looks like sentimental agreeance. “Sorry for the confusion,” I say. “Have a good night…”

  “Polly. My name is Polly,” she says, shaking her head, then turning on her heel, tail tucked, all the way back to whatever section of hell she rode in from.

  “Fuuuuuuuck,” I hiss out under my breath and steel my nerves to try to amend my night with Magnolia. Closing the door slowly, I try to formulate something intelligent to say, a way to explain away the things I said, and my whoring ways. Magnolia knows I’m not a one-woman man, maybe she’ll just shrug and attack me with her sweet pussy. I walk up the stairs, one at a time when I usually bound up them in a couple leaps.

  When I get to the top, I’m met with her piercing, accusing gaze. It’s anything but indifferent. She’s scrutinizing me. “Am I going to fix you or let you stay broken?” she says, pressing her lips into a firm line, feeding me Wildcat’s words. Her tank top is askew, and her hair is a brown, sexy mess. My mouth waters and my cock throbs, I grab it to reposition and her attention slides down. Yes, familiar territory.

  “Fix me,” I say, trying to set the mood where I’d like it. “If you can.” I quirk one brow.

  “I’m your girlfriend, huh?” she replies, tilting her head to the side.

  I blink slowly and run a hand through my hair. She watches my abs as I move. “You weren’t supposed to move a muscle. Or hear any of that, for that matter. She was upset.”

  Magnolia crosses her arms across her chest. “She was screaming. How could I not hear that? The question remains, am I really your girlfriend after one date, after one kiss? Or do I tell my friends you lie when confronted? When you feel uncomfortable?”

  Sweat beads on my forehead even though my air conditioner is set to freeze my balls off. My breathing quickens. She better be the best lay of my fucking life. “Are you blackmailing me into being your boyfriend?” Not without my permission, but it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to be attached to a woman in Bronze Bay. Perhaps it would even clear my bad name if I gave it a real shot. I tick through the women I’ve been with and there’s only one who could hold that torch. She’s standing in front of me right now. Why Magnolia? I know she’d never show up at my front door with a pitchfork. She has a family. People she cares about and has to maintain manners for.