King's Queen

by Marie Johnston

  I should be taking notes. It would be a good research topic for work. I could present on it. But I already knew all the details. When it came to Aiden King, I had paid attention. I hadn’t outgrown that lovesick teen from my brother’s high school wrestling matches.

  I was in the back of the group. As soon as I’d heard King Oil had extended an invite to the public library staff for a private tour, I’d been a puddle of anticipation. For six weeks, I’d heard about other civic bodies around Billings being personally invited for a tour. First, the city council. Then the city maintenance department. City zoning and planning. All departments that worked directly with King Oil. The company gave generously to the library each year, but I didn’t think we’d get an invite. Until King Oil HR had contacted the library director.

  I’d given myself a pep talk. This was a King Oil tour, but that didn’t mean that Aiden would participate. He probably had better things to do with his Friday night. But he was helping to lead the tour with Gentry and the head of HR.

  I was twenty-eight and old enough not to act like a fourteen-year-old with a crush. Instead, I had gotten up this morning and blown out my hair. I’d had to learn how to blow out my damn hair first. And I’d had to rewash it and try again. Twice. Then I’d stood in front of my hole-in-the-wall closet and stared at my clothing choices. How obvious would it be if I showed up for the tour all oh, this old thing? in a brand-new outfit that made my bank account choke?

  No, I would work with what I had, though at least my new non-frizzy hair wouldn’t stand out. What did I own that wasn’t stereotypical staid librarian? My coworkers dressed in various interpretations of business casual, and I wasn’t any different. I usually wore slacks or leggings and an oversized sweater. In the summer, I wore a blouse—in a pattern if I wanted to be wild.

  Reaching for a frilly shirt that would look cute with plain black leggings, I frowned and paused. My hand hovered over the fabric. The top had a faint floral print. As a lifelong wallflower, I did not need to wear flowers on my top as I hovered in the back of the crowd.

  But Mom’s smoky voice had drifted through my head. “Fuck them.”

  And here I was, fucking them in my floral shirt as I stood next to the dang wall. Standing at the back of the group, I could barely see Aiden through the crowd of coworkers I normally adored but was a tiny bit ragey at right now. Not cranky enough to crowd my way up front and look at Aiden’s perfect face up close, though. I could stare back here without being creepy. I hoped.

  Aiden shifted and I edged to the right. There. A gap.

  He was speaking again and my belly quivered. That voice. That face. Dark hair gelled mercilessly into place. Eyes with a slight perma-squint that made whomever he looked at feel like one thousand percent of his attention was on them. I’d never survive that look. His shoulders were wide. Did he still have his wrestling physique?

  Duh. It was better. A stacked but sinuous upper body with powerful thighs that could flip an opponent in a split second. That description was probably stitched into his suit. For the stacked but sinuous man in the business world.

  His gaze roamed the crowd, lingering only long enough to make each person feel seen. He was over six feet tall, but he couldn’t see me tucked in the back of the group.

  I could see him, and that was what mattered. It was just wrong how well that suit fit him. Black suit, black slacks. Light gray shirt. Simple, packing a powerful statement, one that said I can crush you physically or financially, and only I will decide. That thing must be custom tailored. With that wide chest tapering to his narrow waist and long legs, he couldn’t buy off the rack.

  I snorted quietly. He could buy the whole rack. The whole store. The Kings were loaded.

  Others might see money when it came to him, but I’d always seen dogged determination. Aiden King knew what he had to do and he worked at it until he accomplished the task. He’d been like that when he’d faced my brother on the wrestling mat. It didn’t matter the opponent. The grim determination in Aiden’s eyes had said he wasn’t thinking about the girls swooning over him in the stands. He wasn’t thinking about the party he’d be going to that weekend. He was planning his win. He was envisioning it. And he’d execute it.

  He had that look now.

  My body didn’t care. My knees shook like the time he’d walked past me after pinning my brother Jason. His gaze had skipped over me, but my teen mind insisted he’d lingered.

  Aiden King lingered on nothing, definitely not me.

  I jumped when Aiden clapped his hands together, the corners of his eyes pinched like he was smiling but his lips hadn’t quite gotten the message. God, that was sexy. His intensity was thrilling. What was it like for the women he dated?

  Jealousy shredded me until I was a brick of cheese ready for Mom’s tater tot hotdish. I bit my lip to keep from snarling.

  This man was not mine. He’d never remember me; I’d never given him a reason to. He might recall Jason, but he wouldn’t know who I was.

  I shuffled through the tour with the rest of the group. Being librarians, we were a quiet and respectful group. It was a job that had called to me after the chaos that was my childhood. It was a job where I fit in, where I could contribute to the world in my own low-key, nerdy way. I wasn’t in charge of a multibillion-dollar company, but that was fine with me.

  I considered Aiden’s tall, straight back as he led us through the wide hall to a room with dioramas and landscapes scattered with oil wells.

  Was he happy being the CFO? He had to be making sick money. He had to go home with a sense of accomplishment. He was the reason this company stayed afloat, him and his dad. Surprisingly, I’d been able to pay attention while his dad had described their organization. I’d expected a long list of vice presidents, but beyond him and Aiden, there hadn’t been any.

  The headquarters was a work of art. From the outside, the glass encased nearly the entire structure, gleaming a deep brown, like oil. Inside, it was open, spacious. An environment that stimulated creativity and boosted morale as long as the leaders didn’t quash it. By the time we wound back around to the conference room, the space had been filled with various water choices—spring, sparkling, and flavored—and finger snacks like wafer cookies, meat and cheese, and oh god, were those miniature muffins?

  I had a serious weakness for muffins that I was not going to expose in front of Aiden One Ounce of Body Fat King.

  I crept through the line, trying not to ogle the treats like I was Cookie Monster’s second cousin Muffin Maniac. Don’t get the muffins. Don’t get the muffins. They weren’t jumbo muffins. One little bite wouldn’t be worth it.

  Okay. One muffin, but don’t stuff the whole thing in your mouth.

  I grabbed a bottle of water and two mini muffins, one blueberry and one chocolate.

  Few of my coworkers had taken any. I couldn’t let the Kings think they’d made a poor choice. Muffins were never a bad choice.

  When I turned, I didn’t see where Aiden or his dad had gone. Some of my coworkers were single, and since they’d chattered for days about this tour and how hot the King men were, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d glommed on to Aiden as if he were the lead singer of a boy band.

  The jealousy roared back, along with searing anxiety. I had a few single coworkers. What if Aiden hit on them and I had to go to work and hear about his suave pickup lines? Seriously, all Aiden had to do was crook a finger. Even worse, what if I had to listen to someone gush about a date with him? Or…more? I had no idea if Aiden was a player or not. There were rumblings about Gentry, but I hadn’t cared. I’d hung on every detail of Aiden in the news, but it was a good thing news clips weren’t sustenance or I would’ve starved.

  I knew that he hadn’t married, but that was about it.

  Yeah. I so wasn’t going to stand around and awkwardly wipe muffin crumbs off my boobs while Aiden got hit on.

  I was edging out when a wall of heat hit me from behind. “Are you Jason’s sister?”

  I froze, o
ne muffin getting crushed in my hand. It was him. Was he talking to me? I had a brother named Jason. Oh, god. Was Aiden talking to me? I turned around and had to look up. He was that close. All heat and just enough cologne to encourage me to lean closer and sniff. Almonds and anise. What guy wore that combo?

  Aiden did. And it was intoxicating.

  My heart clambered into my throat. He was hotter up close. The cowlick I remembered from wrestling, the one that had pushed against his protective headgear after a match, was flattened into the comb lines of his hair. For a fleeting moment, I wished I could see it again.

  His eyes were a dark brown with sooty lashes, but I caught a few glints of yellow. Subdued, like the cowlick. The way he focused on me and only me… My knees quivered.

  “Um, Jason? Yeah.” I could kick myself.

  I steadied my breath. Calm down, Kate. He’s asking to be polite. King Oil wants the support of the community. It’s his job to talk to everyone.

  Wait! He knew I was Jason’s sister. He…knew who I was?

  A smile spread across those lips. Lips that had an arrogant tilt when nothing but confidence oozed from him. His smile was a heady combo of pleased and predatory and my heart pounded like I’d been cornered and wanted desperately to be ravaged.

  Those lips moved. I’d never fixated on a mouth like this. Maybe during those uncomfortable dates when men went in for a kiss and I thought I’d rather make out with a jellyfish, the kind that stung, rather than kiss a dud again. “What a small world. Kate, right?”

  My eyes went wide. He knew my name? “Yes?”

  I had to quit sounding like I was asking him a question.

  His smile grew wider, his gaze more intense. “It was cool the way you were always there for Jason.” He leaned closer and my breath stalled. I was inches from Aiden King. Inches. His heat curled around me as gentle as a caress. “I admit to being a little worried that you were watching for my weaknesses and would tell him all my secrets.”

  Jason’s wrestling was a comfortable topic, one I missed talking about. “You mean like how you preferred double-leg takedowns over single leg? And that if you didn’t think you could pin your opponent, you’d rack up as many points as possible instead?”

  He shoved a hand in his pocket, making his suit crinkle just right. If a photographer were around, they’d circle him and snap pictures that magazines would buy for thousands of dollars. “I knew it.”

  Breathing around him was exquisite torture. I hadn’t expected talking to him to be so easy. “Busted.”

  “How is Jason?”

  “Working for you, actually.” I lifted a shoulder. “In a roundabout way. He’s at the refinery.”

  “Does he like it there?”

  I detected nothing but genuine concern, deeper than small talk. How was this guy so perfect? “Yes. And he has two young boys—who are already wrestling.”

  “And you? How’ve you been?”

  Well, this moment was the highlight of my decade, so how did I answer? “Oh, you know. Busy with work. You?”

  “Same.” I was prepping myself for the inevitable I’d better get back or some other polite brush-off when he tipped his head down. The world consisted of only me and him. “Would you like to go out sometime?”

  My lips parted. Had I heard him right? I looked around. My coworkers were talking among themselves in small groups and a few were gathered around Gentry. Aiden hadn’t been asking someone else out. He’d asked me. “Yes?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. Was that a beat of triumph in the depths of his brown eyes? “Good. Can I have your number?”

  I rattled it off before I could wake up from the best dream of my life. He didn’t write it down.

  Would he remember it? Or was he a player? Was knowing he could have me tripping at his feet enough?

  I didn’t care. I would float on this high for weeks.

  “I’ll call you, Kate.” The promise in his voice set my knees quivering. This guy was potent.

  “Sure.” I sounded pathetically breathless.

  Two people were edging around us to leave, and he turned to ask them about their tour. The loss of his heat was like a rug being yanked out from under me. My head was spinning but I managed to stay upright.

  I tossed my crushed muffin in the nearest garbage and peeled the wrapper off the second one. I waited until I was in the hallway to stuff it in my mouth. Sweetness bathed my taste buds. Muffins, my old friends. The effect was diminutive compared to the excitement zinging through my bones.

  Aiden King was going to call me.

  Can I have your number?

  He could ask for anything and I’d give it to him. I was that lost to his magnetism. Always had been. If a guy like that wanted to be with me, I would never give him up.

  The last two months of my life couldn’t be real. This stuff didn’t happen to me.

  This weekend, Aiden had flown me to catch a show on Broadway. Freaking Broadway.

  Mom had always wanted to go to a show on Broadway. But Dad had chosen to use his extra money on his mistresses. My stepdad, Randall, would love to take her, but going to the movie theater had been challenge enough while raising three kids and working long hours.

  Aiden had made it happen for me. Two months into dating, and we were walking through Times Square, living my mom’s dream. Mine too, aside from a visit to the New York Public Library. Nine divisions and eight of them were special collections. Forget about the materials inside—which I couldn’t—the architecture alone would be stunning. Aiden might get bored while I gushed over the library’s shelves and what was on them, but well, I was a librarian.

  But we weren’t at the library. At the moment, I was his date and in Times Square. I would summon as much sophistication as possible. The sun had set, but people swarmed the sidewalk, and horns and sirens blared around us. A concrete jungle. He had my hand in his as we wandered with the crowd filled with gawkers like me and locals who walked as if life was too busy to slow down and enjoy the TV screens anchored above—monitors taller than my apartment building.

  I was in New York. With a guy who could pass for a Disney prince.

  I’d had a nice college boyfriend. He’d treated me well. We’d been barely more than good friends and then we’d gone our separate ways. I’d tried dating after I was done with my master’s degree and had settled into my job at the library.

  Of the handful of men I’d met, two might’ve had potential. We’d gotten serious enough for me to learn that one lived in his parents’ basement for a reason—he’d dug himself into such a financial hole he couldn’t even afford to live in his car because it’d gotten repo’d. I’d broken things off when I’d envisioned a future that resembled my mom and dad’s before the divorce. The other had started acting like my oldest brother, Matt, after our parents had divorced. Brash tempered with little self-control. A toxic mix. Mattie might’ve matured into a decent guy, but the guy I’d been dating hadn’t seemed interested in changing.

  I refused to be the girl who waited for a man to change.

  Now there was Aiden. Controlled. Responsible. Dedicated. Hardworking. We’d been dating for two months. He’d taken me to restaurants that I’d never been to despite being born and raised in Billings. When I’d mentioned how interested I was to try real Wagyu beef, he’d flown us in the company jet to Seattle. Last week, he’d flown us to Chicago. We ate at restaurants that I’d been underdressed for in a simple black dress. The women around me had worn diamonds that cost as much as all my college degrees combined, and we’d had wine that was older than my mom.

  When I gushed to Mom, she’d warned me in her smoker’s rumble, You’d better find out if he’s a real diamond or a hunk of coal, Katie-bear, before it’s too late.

  If too late meant hopping into bed with him, that ship had sailed. It had sailed long and hard.

  Our first date, he’d kissed me on the doorstep of my apartment building. A long, passionate kiss. Literally swept me off my feet. He’d even growled when he pul
led away, like he might heft me over his shoulder and up the three flights of stairs to my bedroom.

  The second date had ended with just a kiss, but it’d been a plastered against the door and holy shit is that his erection? kiss.

  He’d made his move on the third date, like I’d hoped he would. He’d been respectful and part of me hadn’t expected to hear from him afterward. Had I been too boring? Unadventurous? Would my curves scare him off? The best sex of my life might’ve been his worst.

  He’d sent flowers to work the next day. Two dozen red roses.

  I was a lilies girl, but two dozen red roses were beautiful and fragrant and made me feel like a princess as much as this trip had.

  Aiden was not a hunk of coal. He was crude oil. Rich and complex. Crude oil could be split into several different products and Aiden’s personality was similar. When it came to work, he was serious. Nothing came before work, definitely nothing in his personal life. When he was with me, he was with me. He was relaxed and had a sly sense of humor that was subtle and unpredictable. His default was solemn, but I didn’t think it was innate. I think he’d made himself that way, and considering the way he’d lost his mom and how he’d dedicated his life to his family’s legacy, I couldn’t blame him.

  My heels pinched my feet, but we weren’t going to walk far. I had to work tomorrow at noon and Aiden was cognizant of my schedule. Another admirable trait. The biggest financial responsibility I had at work was spending our budget on reference items for the library. Aiden controlled billions of dollars and hundreds of workers’ livelihoods. Despite the difference between our work roles, he never acted superior.

  In the center of Times Square, he led me past a woman in orange boy shorts with pasties on her boobs. She strummed a guitar next to a guy in nothing but an orange Speedo as he held another guitar.

  Aiden tugged me close. His long coat was secured around him, but his heat still seeped through me. “Are you enjoying tonight?”