by Frankie Love
She presses her face against my chest and whispers, “I was scared you weren’t gonna come. I’m just so glad to see you, Aiden.”
It’s like we’re real friends, old lovers. Because with her in my arms, it feels like no time has passed. It feels like the future is ours for the taking.
“You’ll never believe it, but my parents invited Peter after all. He sat next to me at the rehearsal dinner. I’m only telling you as a warning… he’s jealous and territorial.”
“Should I be worried?”
She shakes her head. “Not even a little.”
I grin, taking Alice’s hand and planting a kiss on her cheek.
“Baby, no one is gonna give me any hassle. I’ll stare down any that try.”
A waiter walks by and hands us glasses of champagne. We clink our flutes together, and I down mine quickly.
“Do you need a stiffer drink?” she asks.
“What do you think?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “How hard is this crowd?”
“Very. Just be ready. I think people were taking bets on if you’d show. And now that you have... looking like a mountain man model,” she says circling her finger around my suit, “everyone’s going to have questions.”
“Alice, you are trouble,” I say, shaking my head, unable to resist pulling her in for a kiss.
The kiss is hot, and the past few weeks evaporate as our lips collide. It’s like we’re back on my boat, in one another’s arms. The world around us disappears and all I see and feel and need is her.
Alice.
She leans in, and I pull her waist to me, needing her body on my body. She’s warm and soft and the woman I want to keep on holding forever. She is more than a fling, or make-believe anything--our kiss tells me everything we share is fucking real.
When she pulls back, her lips are full and her eyes are wanting.
“You’re the person who’s trouble,” she whispers. “Everyone here thinks I’m a good girl.”
“But they don’t know you like I do, do they?” I say.
I’d say more, but we’re swept into the reception, introduced to people making small talk for the next two hours. Alice’s mother looks me up and down scowling, I don’t get a chance to meet her father beyond a brief exchange of ‘hellos’, and her sister has a fake smile plastered on her face when I tell her congratulations.
“So you’re real,” she says, pursing her lips together. She looks me over with a fine tooth comb, and then I see her glance over at her new husband. I see her give a little humph, and I know she realizes her man can’t compare to the likes of a mountain man like me.
“Well, it’s nice you came all this way, but Alice already has a date.” She smiles smugly, trying to hit me where it hurts. I follow her eyes over to a douchebag at the bar I immediately know is Peter Gunheight. He has slicked back blond hair, a smile as fake as a politician and I know in a flash he is all wrong for Alice.
I run my hand over my beard, smirking at Anna. “You think I’m intimidated by that boy?”
Anna swallows, red-faced, and without another word, turns away from me. She acts like she can say whatever the hell she wants because she’s the one in a white dress.
I clench my jaw, not liking the attitude. That’s the sister Alice has to put up with?
“Alice,” her mother says, tugging on her elbow. “We have more family photos, on the veranda.” She sweeps Alice away, and I’m left to my own devices.
I have no problem holding my own. Hell, if more people try to make snarky comments about Alice, about saying they are surprised she has a date, and that she’s always been so quiet and shy, and that they didn’t believe I was real--I have no problem setting those fuckers straight.
I’ve just gotten another drink when that asshole, Peter starts strutting toward me. I don’t want to give this fucker the time of day, but he’s insistent, wanting to question me like Alice said he would.
“Alice told me you took advantage of her. Just who the hell do you think you are?” Peter asks. His voice isn’t loud, it is a whisper-yell fit for a junior high girl. This guy needs to grow some motherfucking balls.
“It would seem so.”
“You’re all wrong for her, everyone can see that.”
“Everyone? I wasn’t aware everyone here knew me.”
“You just arrived. You don’t know Alice,” Peter scoffs.
I smirk. “Oh, I know her pretty well.”
“She was saving herself for me.”
I shrug, taking a drink of my whiskey. “That’s not what she said when I showed her what a real man is made of.”
“I’ve known Alice for years. I’m in a better position to know what kind of man she really needs.”
“Oh, you do? You know what kind of man she needs?” I ask, barely containing a laugh. The fact that this guy thinks he’s what Alice needs is a goddamn joke.
“I know that she needs a man of sizable means. She’s used to a lifestyle of a certain caliber. And I don’t know what you do in Alaska...”
“I’m a fisherman.”
Peter croons. “Exactly. I don’t think a guy who catches fish for a living can give Alice what she’s used to. She grew up in a mansion, her parents have houses in Europe and Hawaii. They own a yacht. They have a household staff. And just because you went to Rent-A-Suit for this wedding doesn’t mean you can give her what she needs.”
I look down at my suit, knowing the four-figure cost. Not needing to prove a fucking thing to this twat.
“She’s used to a certain lifestyle, and I hate to break it to you, fisherman, but there’s no way you can give her what she needs.”
Oh, hell no. I can let a lot of what he says slide off my back, but I take offense to this. I’ll give my girl whatever the fuck the wants.
Hell, if Alice needs a gorgeous home, I’ll give that to her.
Hell, if she wants a chef and a private masseuse? Great, I’ll make sure she has those too.
I don’t have any problem spending my money on her, spending a fortune on her.
I just take offense to the idea of a gold digger spending my fortune.
But that’s not Alice. She has no idea that I have enough money that I never need to fish again. That I go trawling for King salmon because I love being on the open water.
“I know what Alice needs,” I tell him gruffly, my good-natured approach to this asshole long gone.
“Yeah right, just because you slept with her once doesn’t mean you know her,” Peter asks, adjusting the Rolex on his wrist as if a timepiece makes him a man.
“You’re wrong, I do know. I’m her fiancé.”
Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but it’s the same line Alice used on Sheila to shut her up. And I need to get Peter out of my line of sight before I punch the fucker in the face. Seems like the quickest way to get him away from me is by telling him the one thing I wish were the goddamn truth.
“You’re her what?” Peter says.
“You heard me, buddy. She’s my woman. We’re getting married.” With that, I turn my back, not having time for this bullshit. I won’t let fucking Peter Gunheight derail me.
I go to the bar order myself a whiskey and look for my make-believe bride.
I can’t wait to tell her the joke I played. I know she’ll appreciate it as much as I did.
Chapter Eleven
When I saw Aiden, standing up and watching me as I walked down the aisle of the wedding, my heart unfurled. I’d been so anxious that he wasn’t going to show. That what I thought was something real was, in fact, a dream.
But when I walked down the aisle, he stood and looked at me like I was the most delicious thing he’d ever seen.
I haven’t forgotten his eyes all afternoon. As I’m dragged around the reception, hugging great aunts and distant cousins, I keep sneaking looks at Aiden, who’s been talking to Peter for way too long. It might have been a bad idea to leave him alone, but I’m trying to keep him from the line of fire that is my family.
; But every time I see him, my panties get wet and my nipples get hard. I need that man alone.
And soon.
I keep imagining him stripping me of this hideous dress and letting him rake his hands over my skin, and this sexy lingerie I have underneath.
During dinner, he’s left alone again, as I sit with the wedding party up front. After, though, I cut through the reception to where Aiden stands. He’s at the bar, holding a whiskey, and looking so damn sexy.
My dad’s on my heels. “Are you going to introduce me?”
“Yeah, just… go easy on him. He means a lot to me.”
I bite my lip, and as we approach Aiden, I shoot him an apologetic look. He just brushes it off as if he has been expecting this moment.
“Aiden, this is my father James. Dad, this is Aiden.”
They shake hands, and my dad looks him over critically. My dad came from a family with means, and he has a certain idea of what my future spouse should be. A man like Donovan, Anna’s husband, would be ideal. Or, more specifically, a man like Peter. Executive offices downtown, secretaries, and three-piece suits.
Not blue jeans and fishing poles and no cell service.
Still, I like the sort of man Aiden is. Everyone in the bar we went to together knew his name.
Heck, they knew his dog’s name.
And I don’t need much. Besides, Aiden said he didn’t live on a boat year round, he said he has a house too.
Which, I know doesn’t even matter.
Aiden came here as a favor--not because he wanted me for more.
Still, I can’t help wonder what more with him would look like... The idea of giving up on my dream of playing the cello professionally seems impossible... I’ve worked for that my entire life.
And Aiden’s life is in Alaska.
“I didn’t know the pair of you were performing a duet today,” Aiden says, bringing me back to the moment.
“What did you think of it?” Dad asks, crossing his arms and looking intently at my date.
Aiden runs his hand over beard as if really considering the question. “It took my breath away. I knew Alice took her music seriously, but I had no idea music was in her bones or that you were so accomplished yourself.”
Dad smiles, and I feel a flash of tenderness for him.
But for all that tenderness, I still know my father likes things to go his way. And Aiden is not his way.
“So you live in Alaska and came all the way down here for the wedding? Seems like a big leap for someone you hardly know.”
“Hell no. Alice asked me to come and of course, I wanted to. I’d do anything for her.”
I just about choke on the drink I’m not even drinking. Those are some bold words to say to my father. When I see a waiter pass, I reach for a glass of champagne, guzzle it, and retrieve a second.
This is a conversation that deserves slight intoxication.
“What, Alice?” Aiden says as if sensing my discomfort. But apparently not that interested in softening his stance. “You know it’s true.”
My dad narrows his eyes. “What do you do up in Alaska, anyway?”
“I’m a fisherman. King salmon, mostly. What about you, James?”
I press my lips together, amazed that Aiden isn’t playing at anything besides himself. Also a little nervous that this could escalate quickly.
“Me?” My dad leans over the bar and gets himself a Manhattan. Once it’s in his hands he looks back at Aiden with a smirk. “I’m in investment real estate. I play with the big boys.”
“Dad,” I say, scowling.
Dad just shrugs. “Look, I know we’ve had a hard few months, and you thought bringing Aiden would sting.” He squeezes Aiden’s shoulder, ready to step away. “You seem like a good enough guy, just not good enough for my little girl.”
My dad is entirely out of line. Aiden doesn’t deserve this.
“Dad,” I say, wanting to stop him. “This isn’t about you.”
Dad looks at me sympathetically, but I don’t want his sympathy.
“Look, Alice, this has nothing to do with your music. We all know that this fling isn’t anything more than that. So have a few dances and drinks with this fisherman, and--”
“Sir,” Aiden says cutting him off. “With all due respect, Alice means more to me than that. She means--”
“Listen, I’m not trying to be heavy-handed, but there’s no point in beating around the bush. The truth is, her life is meant for so much more than yours.”
Then he steps away without another word and my eyes fill with tears. I hate that my father spoke that way to Aiden.
Aiden has been nothing short of amazing and he certainly doesn’t deserve that.
“I’m so sorry, Aiden,” I start, but as I do, Aiden reaches his hand to my cheek, brushing away my tears.
“Shhh, love, don’t cry.”
I breathe him in, his hand on my skin soothing me, smelling like saltwater and pine trees and clean air. He smells like a man who is comfortable in his own skin and doesn’t need to be anything other than who he already is.
I need to be closer to him. To feel his hands all over me. Because when he holds me, I feel safe.
I feel seen.
And mostly, I feel known.
“Why are you being so good to me?” I ask in a whisper.
“Because you are good, Alice. And you deserve a man who understands that.”
“I’m not good. I dragged you to a stupid wedding because I was mad that they tried to set me up with an asshole.”
Aiden looks me in the eyes. “You mean that? Because Alice, I don’t think that’s it at all. I don’t think that’s why you brought me here.”
“No?”
“No.”
“I want you. I want this. But I just don’t know what that might mean. I hardly know you.”
Aiden’s eyes don’t leave mine for a second. They penetrate me to my very core and I believe everything he says.
“You know enough.”
I swallow hard, absorbing his words. Knowing they are true. I do feel like I know enough. Aiden is a man who knows what he wants and isn’t scared of taking a leap of faith. Aiden likes my innocence, but also in my passion, Aiden sees me as a woman, not a little girl. He takes me seriously, and I take him at his word.
I don’t know everything about him, but right now, it feels like I know enough.
“You’re right,” I manage.
“Your dad’s the only person wrong here,” he says.
I smile softly, stepping closer to him, needing him near me, not caring who sees.
“Well, Peter’s wrong too. He thinks he is going to end up with me.”
Aiden laughs. “Well, maybe he thought that before.”
My eyes crinkle. “What do you mean?”
Aiden grins. “I may have told him we were engaged.”
I snorted, unable to resist. “You did not.”
“Funny right? You thought of it first, with Sheila. Truth is, it was the easiest way to get him off my back.”
I shake my head incredulously. “And the easiest way to get my family fired up. Donovan and Peter are buddies; you do realize that?”
“So?” Aiden’s eyes practically reach inside me and pull me away from any hesitation I may have. “Is it the worst thing in the world for people to think you’re my woman?”
I swallow, heat rising to my cheeks. Suddenly the reception seems a thousand miles away. The only people left on earth are Aiden and me.
“Not even close to being the worst thing.”
Aiden smiles, then leans in, and kisses me. He cups my face with both his hands and I whimper under his hold. I don’t ever want him to let go.
The kiss is unrestrained; Aiden doesn’t care who sees. In fact, maybe he wants everyone to see. To know that he has put his claim on me.
And I let him. I let him kiss me with abandon as if there is no tomorrow. I don’t care that my entire extended family is witnessing our lips crashing together.
The only thing that matters is that Aiden and I are together.
When the kiss ends, and we step back, I swear we’re both dazed and confused. Lost in a fog of desire.
The band is queued up for the first dance, and the lights are low. I take a moment to close my eyes and savor this moment for what it is. Ours.
When I open them, I see Aiden still staring at me. I raise my eyebrows playfully. There is no tension here, between Aiden and me. There is only anticipation.
“So,” I say slowly. “Are you hanging around the bar looking for hot bridesmaids to bang?” My words are a little bit more liberal than usual, and I think the champagne is getting to my head. But I’m not editing myself.
Tonight I am giving in.
“Did you just say bang?” Aiden tilts his head toward me, grinning. “Because, baby, I need to hear you talk filthy some more.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I tease, pressing my hand to my hip.
“Oh, I found a hot bridesmaid to bang. I most certainly did.”
I take his hand, ready to take the lead with this, and I drag him out of the reception and down the hall.
“Where’s your room?” I ask with a smile.
Seconds later we’ve climbed the staircase and are standing outside the door to his room. “So did you just want to check out the room?” he asks.
“No, I want to check out what I’ve been missing. Who I’ve been missing.” I exhale, wanting to see Aiden with his clothes off. Needing to feel Aiden inside me. I reach for his belt. He reaches for the zipper on my dress.
We are hungry and in no mood to wait for our meal.
We step into his room, locking the door and seconds later our clothes have been dropped to the floor, and I’m standing before him in the teeny, tiny lingerie I purchased for this exact moment.
“Hot damn, woman,” he says. “You certainly outdid yourself.”
“You like what you see?” I ask coyly.
He steps toward me, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs, and runs his hands over my bare skin.
“No. I love what I see.”
His words cause my breath to stop, my heart to catch, my mind to forget everything but this moment.
He takes both my hands, laces our fingers together, wraps them behind my back. “I swear to God, Alice. I’ve fallen for you. Fallen in love with you.”