Coming Up Roses: #MeetCute Books (With A Kiss Book 4)

by Anie Michaels

  “Only because I don’t want to do anything about it.”

  His head tilted to the side and he studied me.

  “You’re serious.”

  “Of course I’m serious.”

  “Why don’t you want to do anything about it?”

  I shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “I mean, not really. I guess I’m just curious why you’d just pass up on the chemistry we obviously have.”

  “We have chemistry?” I’d never had chemistry with anyone before. Not a man, anyway.

  He smiled the sexy hidden smile under his beard and my belly did the stupid flippy thing again.

  “Well, yeah. What did you think was going on here?”

  “I thought you were being annoying and your handsomeness just made it complicated.”

  He barked out a laugh and I couldn’t help but smile.

  “So, why won’t you give me a shot, then? If you’ve admitted you’re attracted to me? I know you feel the electricity between us. What’s stopping you? Ex-boyfriend baggage?”

  My mind zoomed at a million miles a minute, sitting there looking into his stupid gorgeous brown eyes with lashes so thick, dark, and long that any photographer would want to take his photo.

  “Dating hasn’t been a priority for me.”

  “I’m not asking to be a priority, Rose. I get it. You’re a busy woman. You run your own company and you’re more put together than almost any woman I’ve ever met. That’s part of why I’m attracted to you.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “It doesn’t have to be complicated.”

  “I’m a virgin,” I blurted, immediately regretting it. My cheeks began to heat, even though I wasn’t embarrassed about my sexual status. I never had been. But something about Aiden knowing made me self-conscious.

  He blinked, his mouth falling open, but just as he looked like he was going to say something, a waitress appeared to take our order. Neither of us had even looked at the menu.

  “What can I get for you tonight?”

  She looked to be around seventeen and probably related to the owner. Long dark hair came to her chin and she smiled sweetly.

  “She’ll have the chicken Caesar salad, and I’ll take the calzone. The works. I’ll have whatever wheat beer is on tap.” He looked at me. “You want a drink?”

  “White wine, please,” I told the girl.

  “Sure thing. Marco will have to bring it over since I’m a minor, but I’ll get the food out as soon as it’s ready.”

  “Thanks,” Aiden said, giving her a tight smile. As soon as she turned away, his gaze swept back to me.

  “You ordered my food for me,” I stated. I was petrified to let him speak first, terrified of what he would say about my previous statement.

  “You said you were going to eat a salad. The chicken Caesar is the best salad they have.”

  “I can make my own choices.”

  “Clearly.”

  “I don’t need a man to come along and fix everything for me. I don’t need someone to show up on their white horse and rescue me. I’m perfectly happy ordering my own salad and not having sex. I don’t need sex to be a complete woman.” I was irrationally angry. Or perhaps it wasn’t irrational. Who the hell did he think he was, ordering my food? Making me want sex for the first time ever? Making my body crave things I’d never sought from another person, ever. I’d been perfectly happy on my own for thirty years. I didn’t need his particular brand of bossy and sexy.

  “Listen, you can order whatever salad you want. I wasn’t trying to force your hand. I just know the menu really well and know what their best choices are. I’ve HAD the chicken salad, I know it’s amazing, and I just wanted you to experience it.”

  “Are we talking about dinner still?” I breathed, my chest moving up and down with every breath.

  “I’m not sure,” he replied, breathing just as heavily. “How the fuck are you a virgin?”

  “How the fuck indeed,” I mumbled, finding humor in his choice of words.

  “Seriously, Rose. You’re the most inherently sexy woman I’ve ever been around. Everything about you makes me think about sex with you. How have you managed to avoid it for so long?”

  “You think about having sex with me?” Had I asked anyone else in the world that question, it would have been in disgust. But with Aiden, it was full of longing and curiosity. I both wanted him to tell me what he thought about—in great detail—and wanted to run out the door and never see him again. The latter emotion was close to winning out.

  “Shit, Rose. I’ve thought of little else since I first met you.”

  “Well, then I guess it’s good we had this discussion. Now we can just move on.”

  He laughed, loud and short.

  “You think I’m just going to forget how much I want you? I get you’re inexperienced, but you can’t be that dense.”

  “It may take a while for your attraction to wane, I guess, but once you realize you can’t have what you want you’ll get bored and move on.”

  “Is this a religious thing? Are you celibate for life? Are you waiting for marriage? Is this something we can talk about? Because I gotta say, I have a lot of questions.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like, why?”

  I shrugged. “The opportunity never presented itself.”

  “Bull. Shit.”

  “Okay, a suitable situation never presented itself.”

  “Is that the best you can do?” He raised one eyebrow at me.

  I huffed out a breath, then leaned closer to him, hating that the conversation was happening in the middle of a restaurant where anyone could overhear us.

  “I’ve been with men before,” I said, emphasizing the been. “It’s just never gotten to that point. I’m not completely unexperienced.”

  “You’ve just never been to the main event.” His statement was more of a question.

  “Here are your drinks,” Marco said, making me jump.

  I hadn’t even heard him coming, and Aiden’s big body blocked my view of him. In fact, I could see little but Aiden.

  “Thanks, man,” Aiden said to Marco with what looked like a forced smile.

  “You guys need anything else?” he asked as he placed our drinks on the table.

  “No, thanks, we’re good.”

  “Your food should be out soon.” Marco clapped his hand on Aiden’s shoulder and then walked back toward the kitchen.

  “This is a lot to take in,” he said, picking up his beer. Then his eyes widened, and he quickly added, “No pun intended.”

  My eyebrows scrunched in confusion and it took a moment longer than I would have liked to pick up on his meaning.

  “Har, har, har.”

  “That was unintentional, but it was still pretty funny.”

  “I’m glad you’re able to laugh at my situation.”

  “Hey, it’s either laugh or cry.”

  “No crying. It would totally ruin the tough guy image I have of you.”

  “That’s what you think of me? I’m just some tough guy?”

  “Have you looked in the mirror?”

  “There’s more to me than flannel and muscles, Rose. Lots more,” he said, waggling his eyebrows, making me smile.

  “I’m sure.”

  Chapter Eight

  Aiden

  I

  ’d fantasized about a lot of words coming out of Rose’s perfect mouth. Harder. Faster. Right there.

  But never, and I do mean never, would I have imagined she’d say, “I’m a virgin.”

  It was impossible in all imaginable ways.

  I was baffled by it more than I wanted to admit. And I was already having a hard time not thinking about sex. Now it was all I could think about. Well, Rose’s lack of sex. The fact that she’d never been with anyone that way.

  Fuck.

  I couldn’t decide if I was a jackass because I was almost more turned on by that fact or if I was just human.

  Regardless
, it changed everything.

  Or nothing.

  Same difference, I suppose.

  I knew Rose would take some cajoling to get her to even consider going on a date with me. And I’d be lying if I said one of my goals was to get her into bed. But this was a giant red flag. An obstacle of epic proportion.

  “So, and you can totally tell me to shut the hell up if this is too personal, but I’m really interested in your predicament.”

  “You just couldn’t help yourself with that one, could you?”

  She must have noticed my confused expression because she elaborated.

  “Pre-dick-a-ment?”

  “It’s almost funnier because I didn’t even realize I was saying it.”

  She rolled her eyes and it made me want to grip the back of her neck and kiss the fuck out of her, but I held back. For all the bravado she exuded and impenetrable force field she had around her—pun intended, that time—it was becoming clear to me that Rose was more fragile than I could have ever imagined.

  “What’s stopped you in the past? I mean, if you’ve had physical relationships before, why stop before you get to the really good stuff?”

  She shrugged. “I never even got to the kind of good stuff.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’ve always been under the impression that being with a man intimately is supposed to feel good. And it never did. It was awkward and sometimes painful, but never sexy. Eventually, after giving it a good eight years of trying to find someone who could make it worthwhile, I just realized I was never supposed to be a sexual person.”

  “Well, I can tell you right now, you’re wrong. You’re entirely sexual. And don’t hate me for saying that. I’m not trying to objectify you, or get in your pants, or do anything except explain to you that you are the epitome of sexy. You obviously haven’t found the right person to experience that with, but it doesn’t mean you’re incapable.”

  I watched as she digested my words, and then the wall she was so good at wielding fell back in place.

  “Well, regardless, it’s a non-issue. So, while I appreciate your interest, there’s no need to pursue further. And if you want Riley back on your account, that’s fine. No harm. No foul.”

  I watched her as she inspected her wine. She may have thought she was good at hiding her emotions, that I wouldn’t be able to tell what she was thinking, but I could.

  She wanted me to agree, to go back to having Riley plan the event, because that would confirm what she already thought about me; that I was only interested in sleeping with her. And sure, there was a part of me that had walked into that restaurant hoping dinner would lead to something else, but I wasn’t by any means giving up on Rose simply because she’d never had sex before.

  There was obviously more to Rose than I’d imagined, and this new twist made her all the more intriguing. And sure, maybe I wanted to show her that not all guys were only about one thing. I mean, I was definitely about sex, just not all the time. I could show her that. Spend time with her. Try to get her to open up a little instead of immediately putting up a wall of ice between us.

  “You had some really good ideas for the event, and I liked your vision.” All of that was true. “If you’re still up for it, I’d really like you to plan the fundraiser.”

  “That’s fine with me,” she said as she shrugged just one shoulder, trying so hard to act as though my decision to work with her didn’t affect her at all. “It’ll be nice to get back to planning a bit. I’ve been behind a desk a lot lately.”

  Our food came then, giving us a good reason to not talk about anything super heavy, like virginities.

  “This is a really excellent salad,” she said after a few dainty bites.

  One side of her mouth tipped up into a grin as she tried desperately to hold it back.

  “I told you. Best salad I ever had. Something about the croutons.”

  “Here,” she said, forking a few of them onto my plate. “I’ve had all the carbs I can today already. They’re all yours.”

  My right eyebrow reached for the roof. “You counting calories, sweetheart?”

  She poked at her salad, but her cheeks pinked a little. I wanted to see other parts of her blush, too. But I kept that tidbit to myself.

  “I watch what I eat, yes. Diabetes runs in my family, so I am trying to beat the odds.”

  “Well, I think trying to be healthy is great, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with your figure, so I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t gotten that crazy notion in your head.”

  I didn’t even pause before I took a healthy-sized bite of my calzone, which was filled to the brim with anything and everything. I was not watching my carbs, but there were worse things I could have been eating. Truth of the matter was, I needed to start watching what I ate too. Since I’d taken on more of a supervisory role I hadn’t been getting as much of a workout every day as I used to. In the past, building houses and hauling materials was enough activity to keep me in pretty good shape.

  “It’s not a crazy notion. Lots of women have parts of their bodies they hate, things they’d like to change.”

  Lowering my fork, I looked at her, wondering what the next best thing to say would be. I wanted to shake her, make her believe the fact that she was perfect. Granted, I hadn’t seen all of her—yet—but I knew even without laying eyes on her there was nothing about her that needed changing. The idea that she thought something was wrong with her body made me angry, but I figured she probably didn’t want to hear me harping about it. Especially if she wanted to keep our relationship somewhat professional.

  “Be that as it may, my unbiased opinion is that you have nothing to worry about. That’s all I’ll say.”

  “Well, I’ll admit the feeling is mutual.”

  Had she just complimented me? It was all I could do not to sit up, push my shoulders back, and preen for her.

  She quickly changed the subject.

  “So, tell me how you became so philanthropic.”

  “I wouldn’t consider myself philanthropic,” I hedged.

  “No? Donating to good causes? Generous? Benevolent? You wouldn’t describe yourself that way?”

  “I mean, on paper, I guess,” I said with a shrug. “But I wouldn’t characterize myself that way.”

  “Not many good-doers would,” she noted, taking a sip of her wine.

  My eyes, no longer under my control, watched as her lips wrapped around the edge of the glass. Never had I ever been so attracted to a mouth before.

  “But why? Lots of people make good money and don’t choose to give it away.”

  “I remember wondering some nights where my mom and I were going to sleep,” I said, deciding to throw caution in the wind and open up to her. She wanted to know why I did what I did? Then I’d tell her. “There were a few good steady months where we had an apartment, but most of the time we either lived in her car or a rundown trailer we’d park in front of people’s houses. Not until I was older and could literally build my own home did I ever know what it was like to have a place to come home to.”

  “Wow, I had no idea,” she said on a breath, leaning toward me so slightly, she might not have even realized it was happening.

  “Don’t get me wrong, my mom did the best she could. My dad skipped out on us before I was even born, and my mom worked sometimes four jobs to keep our heads above water. I always had food in my belly, but after we fell behind on rent so many times, it was hard for her to find a steady place for us to land.”

  “That must have been really hard for her.”

  The sincerity in her words hit me with the force of a brick wall. It wasn’t usually sympathy I heard for my mother when discussing my childhood. Lots of people, including teachers and other adults I’d come into contact with during my youth, assumed my mother did drugs or was an alcoholic. That the reason we bounced around so much was because she was spending her money on substances. In reality, having a baby at seventeen meant she never finished her educatio
n and then she lost a lot of jobs due to having a small child and very little help with daycare. Kids got sick. There was no one to help my mother when I caught a cold or got the flu. So, she’d miss work and get fired.

  It was a cyclical pattern. And it sucked. But my mother never gave up and I always knew she was trying her hardest to give me the best life she could, even if it was lacking.

  “It was, but we made it,” I replied, forcing a smile. I didn’t like to think about how much my mother had sacrificed for me. “Anyway, since I’m in a position to help, I do what I can.”

  “Well, hopefully, we can raise more money for the foundation. That will raise awareness too. It can have a snowball effect,” she said, bringing another bite of her salad to her mouth, once again drawing my attention to it.

  “Anything helps,” I managed.

  The rest of the meal was comfortable. Well, it was fine. I wanted to reach out and pull her closer, feel even the slightest part of her against me, but we sat there, completely and irritatingly platonic.

  I picked up the tab, only to have her argue with me. But all I had to do was level a stern glare at her and she piped down. Date or not, I wasn’t about to make the woman pay for a meal I practically dragged her to and ordered for her. I may have had caveman-like tendencies, perhaps I was a bit rough around the edges, but I wasn’t an asshole.

  We arrived at her door and I kept my distance. I wanted to make sure she got in all right, but I didn’t want to crowd her and make her uncomfortable. Rose reminded me of a green horse. She needed to get used to me, to be tamed, so to speak. I’d just bring her an apple and some sugar cubes every now and then, so she could see I didn’t mean her any harm.

  “Thank you for dinner, again. It really was one of the best salads I’ve ever had,” she said with a laugh as she pushed her door open.

  “Anytime, Rose.” I smiled, then took a few steps backward. “Have a good rest of your night. I’ll be in touch about Tuesday.”

  Confusion passed over her face. “Tuesday?”

  “Our lunch meeting. Noon. I’ll pick you up at your office.”

  “You still need to have a lunch meeting with me? Even after the last few hours?”