by Jessie Evans
“She did it!” Aria confirmed in an excited whisper. “She slept through the night. I slept through the night. Oh my god, Nash, I slept through the night!” she finished with a giddy squeal that made Nash laugh out loud.
She threw her arms around his neck, and he pulled her into a celebratory bear hug, crushing her against his bare chest. She squeezed him back, her breath hot against his neck as she continued to laugh a hysterical giggle that was completely contagious.
Within a few moments, they were both laughing so hard that they slid off the couch, Aria first and Nash tumbling after, landing on top of her with a grunt.
“Shit, are you okay?” he asked, as her laughter faded away, replaced by deep breaths that made her chest rise and fall.
Aria was wearing nothing but a thin red camisole top and red-and-white sleep shorts. He’d seen her in her pajamas before, but it had always been dark and they’d both been too miserable tending to a screaming baby for him to pay much attention to the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
Now, he couldn’t stop paying attention. Attention to the way her small, perfect, tea-cupped sized breasts tipped up toward him, her nipples pulled into points he could barely make out beneath the thin fabric.
An old memory rose inside him, a memory of Aria naked in the moonlight, of him kissing up her ribs, letting his lips trail along the soft underside of her breasts before taking each nipple in his mouth. He could still remember the way she moaned low in her throat and tangled her fingers in his hair, calling his name like a prayer.
His body responded to the memory without his conscious permission, his erection straining the front of his pajama pants, making him grateful he and Aria had fallen in such a way that it was pressing against the carpet, instead of her thigh. If she could feel him now, there would be no way for him to conceal the way she affected him.
“Nash?” Aria asked in a husky voice that drew his attention back to her mouth.
“Yeah?”
“I said I was fine,” Aria said, watching him with a guarded look in her eyes.
“Oh. Good,” he said, fighting to regain control before he stood up, a part of him wishing he didn’t have to move an inch.
He liked having Aria beneath him, his arms braced on either side of her chest, his lips only a few inches from hers. If he weren’t afraid of having morning breath, he might be tempted to kiss her the way he had in the beer tent, to claim her mouth with his and see if she responded the same way. The thought of her moving beneath him, back arched and those beautiful tits pressed against his chest quickly proved more than he could take.
He was leaning closer—morning breath and their bargain be damned—when Felicity called out from her room and Aria jumped like she’d been caught stealing.
“I should go,” she said, scooting out from beneath him. “I want to make a big deal about what a good girl she is for staying in her bed all night.”
“Sure. Good idea.” Nash shifted, setting Aria free, waiting until she’d disappeared into Felicity’s room before bolting for the closet in his room to grab some running clothes and talk himself down from the ridiculous state he was in.
He had barely avoided making a fool of himself and endangering his and Aria’s bargain before either of them had gotten what they wanted. The hearing with her ex was still three weeks away and he had yet to have his own revenge with Rachael. He couldn’t risk messing things up. They had agreed to be friends in private. The lovey-dovey stuff was only for the benefit of others, when they were out in public.
Then you’d better find an excuse to get her out in public.
The inner voice was right. He wasn’t going to be able to honor their bargain if he didn’t get a little relief from the constant frustration of wanting to touch her, kiss her, lean close and inhale the intoxicating scent of her right down into his soul.
A night out on the town to celebrate Skeeter’s first full night of sleep and a chance to get close to Aria, sounded like a little piece of heaven. He had promised to bring Aria and Felicity over to Raleigh’s house tomorrow night to meet part of the family—easing Aria into the Geary experience a few sisters at a time—but there was nothing on the agenda for tonight.
Plan in place, he headed out of his bedroom, finding Aria and Felicity in the kitchen, Skeeter balanced on her mama’s hip as Aria warmed up the baby’s bottle in the microwave.
As soon as Felicity saw Nash she let out a happy squeal, grinning her gap-toothed grin.
“You did it, Skeeter!” Nash reached for the baby, who came to him with outstretched arms. He lifted her high into the air and spun her around the kitchen, making her giggle. “You did it! You slept in your bed all night!”
“She did,” Aria said, laughter in her voice. “I told her Mama was so proud.”
“Me, too.” Nash blew on Felicity’s belly, while she laughed and kicked her legs. “So proud that I think we should celebrate,” he said, holding Skeeter against his chest as he turned back to Aria.
“Celebrate how?” she asked, smiling as she twisted the top on the bottle and gave it a good shake.
In her PJs, with her hair wild around her shoulders and not a drop of makeup on, she looked so young, almost exactly the way she had when they’d first met, when Nash had looked across the camp and seen a girl with red hair and sharp green eyes and something had clicked. He’d had to go introduce himself. That very second.
He hadn’t been surprised when Aria turned out to be someone he could really talk to, or the best first kiss he’d ever had. It was almost as if something inside of him had known she was special from the moment he laid eyes on her.
“Dinner out tonight,” Nash said, handing Skeeter back to Aria when the baby started reaching for her milk. “On me. At David’s downtown.”
Aria’s eyebrows lifted, and her smile grew wider. “David’s, huh? Fancy.”
“Fancy food for fancy ladies,” Nash said.
“Did you hear that, Felicity? Think we can get all prettied up for supper tonight?” Aria asked, kissing the baby’s head as Skeeter tipped her bottle back and began to drink.
“You’ll be the prettiest girls there, even in you went in your PJs.”
Aria glanced up, pleasure and uncertainty mixing in her expression. “Thanks,” she said softly. “You’re pretty nice for a boy who used to drive me crazy.”
“I’m not nice, just telling the truth,” Nash said, fighting the urge to draw Aria and Felicity both in for a hug. This might feel like a warm, family moment, but it wasn’t, not really, and it could be bad for all of them if they let the line between real and pretend blur too much.
But that didn’t mean they couldn’t celebrate together tonight, that he couldn’t take his girls out for a fancy dinner and sit a little too close to Aria. That he couldn’t put his arm around her at dinner, and lean over to steal a kiss or two.
Just the thought of it was enough to make his running shorts feel snug all over again.
“I’m headed out to run,” Nash said, moving toward the door before his thoughts could wander any further down that particular road.
“Are you going to lift after?” Aria asked, having lived with him long enough now to get a feel for his schedule.
“Yeah, but only for thirty minutes or so,” he said, glancing at the clock above the stove. “I won’t have time for a full circuit today. I’ve got to grab a shower and get out of here by seven forty-five.”
“Then I’ll have an egg and cheese bagel sandwich ready for you to take with you at fifteen ‘til eight,” Aria said as she crossed to the kitchen table, settling Felicity in her high chair. “Do you want your eggs scrambled or fried?”
Nash paused in the archway leading into the living room. “I thought you couldn’t cook.”
Aria shot him an amused look over her shoulder as she adjusted the baby’s tray. “I said I don’t cook, not that I couldn’t. Besides, eggs don’t count,” she said. “So, fried or scrambled?”
“Scrambled,” he said, strangely touche
d.
He told himself it was just breakfast, but when he breezed through the kitchen an hour later on his way out the door and Aria handed him a paper bag and a to-go cup of coffee, he couldn’t deny that it felt like more. He couldn’t deny how good it felt for Aria’s smile to be the last thing he saw before he left the house, or how much he wished he could kiss her goodbye before heading out the door.
“Have a good day,” he said instead as he started down the front porch steps. “I’ll call you as soon as I get a reservation so you’ll know what time to be ready.”
Aria stopped in the doorway, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe, one bare foot propped on top of the other, looking so comfortable that it was hard to believe they’d only been living together for a week.
“Okay, but call me on my cell,” she said. “Mom’s coming to get Felicity in about an hour. I’ve got to help Lark and Melody prep food for the wedding tomorrow and the bridal shower on Sunday, so I won’t be home.”
Home. She called his place home, and it didn’t seem weird or scary or strange at all. It felt…right.
“All right, catch you later,” Nash said with a wave, trying not to think about what his life would be like in a few months, with no baby toys littered across the living room carpet, no Aria standing in the doorway waving goodbye, no redheaded girls grinning at him in a kitchen that seemed sunnier just for having them in it.
He refused to think about that today.
Today, he would concentrate on the evening ahead, an evening where it would be okay for him to pretend to be in love with Aria March.
Or, maybe, more accurately, okay to stop pretending that he wasn’t falling for his first love all over again, even harder than he had fallen the first time.
Chapter Eight
It was the wine. The wine was to blame.
Aria had had an entire glass of Cabernet before dinner and then another with her signature David’s steak, and she was a bit of a lightweight when it came to wine.
That had to be it. The wine was the reason she felt warm all over, the reason her heart beat faster every time Nash leaned over to whisper in her ear, the reason her stomach fluttered when his fingers brushed back and forth across her bare shoulders in an idle caress as they studied the menu and waited for their meals to be delivered to the table. Too much wine was why her chest felt so tight she could barely breathe as she watched Nash carry Felicity into the bathroom to change the baby’s diaper before they ordered desert.
It had nothing to do with the fact that Nash was grinning at her daughter like Felicity was a treasure he’d never expected to find, or that her daughter was laughing up at Nash like he was funnier than peekaboo, Sesame Street, and the deer head jack-in-the-box Grandpa had bought her all put together.
Seeing her baby in the arms of a man who clearly loved Felicity was enough to break Aria’s heart in the best way. Nash had been nothing but kind and funny and just plain wonderful since the afternoon they said their “I dos.”
And the way he looked at Aria herself…
Well, the way he looked at her made Aria feel more beautiful than she had in years, and a part of her couldn’t help wishing this was more than an elaborate game of pretend.
“It’s just the wine,” Aria whispered to herself, forcing a friendly smile as Nash emerged from the bathroom with a freshly changed Felicity in his arms.
She did her best to ignore the electricity that leapt between her and Nash as their eyes met across the crowded restaurant.
In gray dress pants and a black button-down that emphasized his dark lashes, Nash looked even more amazing than usual. The man had eyelashes like a baby llama, long and sooty and curled just the slightest bit at the edges. They were gorgeous. He was gorgeous. There wasn’t a woman in the restaurant who hadn’t darted an appreciative glance Nash’s way while their date’s attention was elsewhere.
Not that Nash would have noticed. He seemed only to have eyes for Aria and Felicity.
“So how was it?” Aria asked as Nash settled Felicity into her high chair and moved the baby’s toys back within reach. Felicity had been amazingly good all evening, gumming on pieces of their food and playing with her toys like she dined at fancy restaurants every other day.
“From dirty to clean in thirty seconds flat.” Nash eased into his seat beside Aria, casually resting his arm on the back of her chair. “Haven’t lost my touch,” he said with a grin before leaning over and pressing a kiss to Aria’s bare shoulder that made her shiver.
Shiver, and her nipples tighten into aching points that begged for those lips to attend to them as well. Aria silently thanked God for padded bras. Without hers, she would be making quite a spectacle of herself. Nash was just too good at pretending. He made this evening feel so real, like they were really in love, really a family. If she didn’t know better, she would almost believe their marriage was a love match herself.
“What are you thinking?” Nash drawled in that husky voice that made things low in her belly twist.
“I was…” Aria blinked, fighting to keep the way he affected her from showing on her face. “I was thinking that you have eyelashes like a baby llama.”
Nash smiled so hard his dimple popped.
Adorable dimple. Aria wanted to kiss it. A lot. A whole lot.
“No, I meant about dessert,” he said, glancing at the small, rectangular menu in front of her. “Chocolate and ice cream, or the three sorbets?”
Aria cleared her throat, but couldn’t seem to pull her eyes away from Nash’s face. “I don’t care. I’m easy.”
“Is that right?” he asked, lifting a teasing brow.
Aria got the joke and slapped him playfully on the chest.
Rock hard chest. Aria wanted to kiss it, too.
“When it comes to dessert, you pervert,” she said, smiling when Nash chuckled beneath his breath before turning to the waiter who had appeared by the table.
“We’ll have the flourless chocolate cake and an extra cup of vanilla ice cream for the baby,” Nash said.
The waiter departed with a nod; Nash turned back to Aria.
“So I have lashes like a llama and arms like a boa constrictor,” he said. “I didn’t realize I was quite so…animalistic.”
Aria’s brow lifted. “You’re the biggest man in this room by at least fifty or sixty pounds of pure muscle,” she said, reaching for her ice water, hoping it would help cool her down. “That’s pretty animalistic in my book.”
Nash watched her drink, his eyes lingering on her lips. “I look at it differently.”
“How so?” Aria asked.
“I think of the muscle as a deterrent to other people who might be inclined to indulge their animalistic sides.”
Aria looked deep into his eyes, his steady green eyes that hadn’t shown a single spark of anger or irritation, even when enduring hours of Felicity’s screaming in the middle of the night. Nash was a giant of a man, but he was gentle through and through.
“Is that why you started working out so much?” she asked. “Someone’s animalistic side?”
“You could say that.” Nash glanced over at Felicity, the edges of his mouth lifting slightly as he watched the baby use her toy hammer to smash all the sugar packets in front of her.
“My grandpa had a drinking problem, ever since my mom was a kid,” Nash said, smile fading. “I think that’s why she married my dad so young; she wanted out of Grandpa’s house. But Gramps would come by our place when I was little, asking Mama for money. Sometimes he’d get violent if he didn’t get it.”
Nash turned back to her, an intensity in his gaze that made it impossible to look away. “I was about five the first time I saw him hit her. My daddy was at work. Gramps hit my mom so hard she fell down, and when my sister, Raleigh, tried to go to her, he picked Raleigh up and threw her against the wall.” He paused. “She was three years old.”
Aria’s breath rushed out. “Bastard.”
Nash nodded, the slightest tip of his head. “Th
at’s when I decided I was going to be big and strong enough to stop all the bad guys some day.”
“But some bad guys have guns,” Aria said, worrying about him all over again. The fact that he dealt with criminals on a daily basis had hit her sometime Tuesday morning and she had been vaguely troubled ever since.
“They do,” Nash said. “But you’d be surprised how much size can intimidate a man, even one with a gun in his hand. And being in shape makes me feel more…in control.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Lifting has become such a habit now, I probably couldn’t stop if I tried.”
“And the women of Summerville would be very upset if you did,” Aria said, with a wry smile.
Nash leaned closer. “There’s only one woman in Summerville who has my attention,” he whispered before brushing his lips lightly across hers, sending currents of awareness flowing from her mouth to every part of her body, making Aria feel lit up from the inside.
When Nash pulled away, she could barely remember how to breathe, let alone think of a witty comeback. Thankfully, the waiter arrived with their dessert a second later, granting her a reprieve, and a chance to pull herself together.
Pretend, it’s just pretend, she silently chanted to herself.
But as she and Nash laughed together over the mess Felicity was making of her cup of ice cream, and Aria fought Nash for the last bite of their shared dessert, she couldn’t deny how real it all felt. Or how much she wished Nash would be joining her in his big bed when they got home tonight.
Even when dinner ended and they escaped to the sidewalk outside the restaurant—strapping Felicity into her stroller and taking an after-dinner walk past the busy restaurants and shops of Main Street—Aria still felt the glow of dinner surrounding them, making it impossible to keep from twining her arm through Nash’s, and leaning into to him as he pushed the stroller down the street.
She was enjoying the excuse to be close to him so much that she didn’t hear the woman’s voice, or realize why they had stopped, until she looked up to find Rachael Wertz standing in the middle of the sidewalk in front of them, wearing a gaudy red tube dress and a dumb look on her face.
