by Brenda Novak
He hoped they’d accomplished that. He didn’t want to be responsible if she regressed; for one thing Dylan and Cheyenne would blame him. Neither did he want her to become as infatuated with him as she’d been before, because he couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her. He’d felt bad for two years, thanks to his behavior the night her mother died.
Even with all his good intentions, it was going to be tough to let her go. The way she put her whole heart and soul into her lovemaking created an experience that was more powerful, more erotic and far more memorable than those he’d known with other women.
“Please tell me that isn’t the sun,” she mumbled, rousing enough to speak but not enough to open her eyes.
He stroked her breast, admiring the sheer beauty of it. The recent improvements to her body were dramatic. But her breasts were the same, and he was glad of that. He’d always liked them just as they were. “’Fraid so.”
Her head popped up. “What time is it?”
The frantic note in her voice made him chuckle. “Relax. It’s early yet, barely six.”
“I have my grand opening today.”
“When do you have to be there?”
“It starts at ten, but I have a lot to do before then.”
The thought of Riley waiting eagerly for her doors to open threatened to ruin what was otherwise a great morning. “I hope you have a huge crowd.”
“So do I.” She scrambled out of bed without touching him.
“Where are you going so fast?” he asked.
“I’ve got to get showered.”
“I told you—it’s barely six.”
“And I told you I have a lot to do.”
“But you haven’t had any sleep, other than thirty minutes here or there. Come back for an hour’s nap.”
“I can’t. I need to make cookies and punch, and I have to print flyers.”
“I’ll help,” he volunteered. “Just pull up the file on your computer.”
“That’s okay.”
“Or I could start with the cookies. But having me bake probably isn’t a wise choice. Not if you want them to taste right.”
“I can manage. You’re completely off the hook.”
She could’ve taken a moment to consider his offer.... “You mean I’ve done my job.”
“At least you did it well,” she said with a smile.
Despite that smile, he couldn’t tell if she was joking and had the uncomfortable feeling she wasn’t. “So you’re sending me off without breakfast?” He was hoping to lure her back, for a goodbye if nothing else. It was over too soon. There’d been no denouement, just a series of intense climaxes.
But she didn’t return to him; she hurried into the bathroom. “You can have breakfast if you want to make it yourself.”
Aaron remained on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He’d gotten what he wanted last night; theoretically, he should be satisfied. He had been satisfied a second ago. But her dismissal, which seemed a little too pat, had ruined the afterglow. So did picturing Riley at her studio, waiting to prove his admiration and loyalty by bringing in a herd of his friends.
“Why don’t I drive over to Nature’s Way and buy a bunch of cookies?” he asked. Hopefully, Riley wasn’t already doing that.
Her voice came to him above the sound of the shower. “I can’t afford it.”
“I’ll pay.”
“There’s no need.”
“You don’t want my help? Why not? We’re friends. We used to be, at any rate,” he added. Since she’d moved back, he wasn’t sure.
“Do you usually get up at the crack of dawn on Saturday and rush to the grocery store for your friends?”
“No, but none of my other friends has ever asked me.”
“I’m fine. Really,” she insisted. “Anyway, it’s probably better if no one sees you at the store this early, especially with cookies that later show up at my grand opening.”
He punched his pillow. “That’s a guilty conscience talking.”
She didn’t reply.
“So you want me to leave?”
When he heard nothing but the water running, he assumed she wasn’t going to answer him. But then she said, “I’m sure you have a busy day ahead.”
That was essentially a yes.
Put out that she could go cold so quickly, he got up and jerked on his clothes. “Thanks for last night,” he muttered and dug his keys out of his pocket.
She met him at the door, wearing only a robe. “Before you go, I just...I want to tell you how much I hope everything works out for you and...and that you’ll always be happy.”
The bright flash of optimism he’d felt when she stopped him winked out. She’d told him there was no “in between” for her; they couldn’t be the kind of friends who hung out together. But what prevented them from being sociable when they bumped into each other? Hello, how are you?—that sort of thing. He liked her. He didn’t want to lose her completely.
“Until I move to Reno, we’ll still be living in the same town, Presley. Are you seriously planning to avoid me altogether?”
She hesitated as if she wanted to say yes but didn’t have the heart to sound so unforgiving. “How much longer will you be here?”
“I can’t say for sure. But that’s fine. We don’t need to have any contact if you don’t want it.”
To his surprise, she didn’t backpedal. She nodded solemnly. “Okay.”
Okay? After how hot she’d been for him mere hours ago? She’d nearly ripped off his clothes.
He was tempted to pull her toward him, to remind her what it was like when they touched. But he saw how rigidly she was standing there, holding her old robe closed, so he didn’t. However misguided he’d been last night, he’d agreed to this.
“Goodbye, Aaron.”
“There’s no guarantee Riley will marry you,” he blurted out. “You could be giving up months of great sex and a hell of a lot of fun—we always have fun, right?—for nothing.”
She raised her chin in defiance. “The best way to guarantee I end up with nothing is to keep on sleeping with you.”
He felt his jaw drop. “You want him?”
“Maybe I do and maybe I don’t,” she replied. “But I’d be a fool to lose such a great prospect just because I can’t keep my hands off someone else.”
“Off me.”
“Off you.”
“God, you make me crazy,” he said, and marched out.
* * *
Presley let her head fall against the door frame. Sex with Aaron had been more spectacular than she ever could have hoped. There was no feeling to compare with being head over heels in love. It was a far more intense high than any drug could provide. To enhance the experience, last night there’d been a new element: she’d felt powerful. Maybe she had power with Aaron only in the bedroom, but even that was unusual and somewhat liberating. She’d always been so eager for his attention, for his touch. There were isolated incidents when she’d gotten the impression that he’d made love to her just because she wanted him to. She’d felt those incidents had become more frequent shortly before she left town. But, like last Monday, the balance of desire hadn’t been quite so uneven during this encounter. He’d wanted her every bit as much as she’d wanted him.
Regardless, their time together was over, and she refused to dwell on it. She had her future mapped out. Whether or not she ever found a man to share it with wasn’t going to be something on which she hung her happiness. She had Wyatt and Cheyenne and Dylan in her life. She had her hopes and her dreams. And she now had a way to make them come true. She couldn’t allow herself to be enslaved by craving the wrong man, especially when she’d done everything she could to assuage that craving last night—and found she was no better off than before. She had to move on and put him behin
d her.
Steam drifted into the living room. She was wasting hot water. Briefly squeezing her eyes closed, she took a deep breath, focused on the day ahead and hurried to get ready. She needed the opening to go smoothly.
Cheyenne called her once she had the cookies in the oven and was applying her makeup. “You all set?” her sister asked.
“Almost.” She widened her eyes so she could finish her mascara while they talked. “How’s Wyatt? Is he up? I would’ve called as soon as I rolled out of bed, but I didn’t want to wake you before he did.”
“He started jabbering a few minutes ago. So I took him into the living room, and now we’re having scrambled eggs.”
“I can’t thank you enough for keeping him overnight.” She paused to throw a frown at her reflection. And look what you did with that time!
“He just slept,” Cheyenne said with a shrug in her voice.
Not quite. Presley knew he’d gotten Cheyenne up earlier than she normally would’ve climbed out of bed—and she’d spent the night with Aaron. Her sister wouldn’t be happy to learn her sacrifice had made that possible. The fact that she’d, once again, broken her resolve not to get involved with him had Presley feeling she’d taken advantage of that kindness. “You’re too good to me.”
“You’d do the same for me. Are you excited about the grand opening?”
“More nervous than excited.”
“I’m bringing a platter of sandwich rolls, and Eve’s bringing her crab dip, so don’t worry about having enough food.”
“I was only doing cookies.”
“This will give people something to do while they wait for their sample massages.”
Presley began to apply mascara to her other eye. “Thanks. That’s really nice of both of you.”
“Did you get the new flyers printed?”
“I’m doing that next. One side will have my massage specials and the other my yoga schedule. I’ll also have a sign-up sheet so I can schedule appointments right there.”
“When will you be going over to set up?”
“In half an hour or so.”
“Should I come and help?”
“Maybe after Dylan goes to work. There’s no rush.”
“Okay. I’ll see you there.”
As Presley finished the call, she received a text from Riley.
I had a great time last night. Thanks for the date, and good luck today. See you soon.
Her heart sank as she read it. She couldn’t continue dating him, not after sleeping with Aaron. She didn’t feel it was fair to Riley that she was still so fixated on her old sex partner.
Should she call him and tell him?
Not now, she decided. She had enough to worry about for one day. But she hated the thought that he was going to so much effort to bring her customers when things weren’t quite as straightforward between them as he assumed.
With a quick, worried glance at the clock, she texted him back.
You don’t have to come if it’s inconvenient.
You kidding? No way would I miss a free massage.
She was tempted to say more but changed her mind. She’d just keep him and every other man at arm’s length until Aaron was gone from Whiskey Creek and she could think clearly again.
OK. See you there.
* * *
When Dylan gave Grady, Rod and Mack some time off work to go over and support Presley’s grand opening, he did it in such a way that Aaron knew he wasn’t meant to hear. Dylan lowered his voice, said whatever he said and moved on. Then his brothers disappeared for an hour or so.
Aaron told himself he didn’t care that they’d gone without him, even though appearing as part of the group would’ve been the most natural way for him to show up. If he went over now, he’d have to do it on his own.
But he couldn’t help wondering what was going on. Was Presley getting the results she’d worked for? Were there lots of people enjoying the cookies and the massages—and scheduling future appointments or signing up for classes?
He didn’t like to think of her sitting over there, mostly alone, worrying. She’d worked so hard to graduate from massage school, get moved and set up shop; this should be a triumphant day, a day of hope.
Finally succumbing to his curiosity and concern, he told Dylan he was taking off for lunch and drove over there.
As he parked, he saw a small crowd gathered inside her studio, and felt immediate relief. She had to be thrilled.
Since she obviously didn’t need him, he nearly left. But then he saw Riley pull up.
“Shit,” he muttered.
Still, he would’ve left—if only Riley hadn’t grinned and waved.
* * *
Presley’s lack of sleep began to take its toll sooner than she’d expected it to. So much for getting enough rest last night. She’d done the opposite. But she wasn’t about to let her fatigue show. Cheyenne had come to the studio but already taken Wyatt home for a nap, so he was no longer fussing for her attention. And she had plenty of potential customers, probably the biggest group since she’d opened at ten. She had to make the most of this opportunity, needed to convert as many of them to paying clients as possible. So she smiled and explained what she had to offer—the benefits of yoga and massage—to everyone who walked in. They helped themselves to the food and punch as she massaged people in a steady stream.
Everything was going well. She could hardly believe her good fortune. Until Aaron arrived. Despite being focused on work, she spotted him the moment he strolled in, but he didn’t speak to her. He took a cup of punch and a handful of cookies, then lounged on a chair in line. Clearly he planned to get his own free massage.
Presley wasn’t looking forward to rubbing his back in front of a roomful of spectators. She was afraid that anyone who was really paying attention would be able to guess her feelings. But she didn’t dread Aaron’s impending massage as much as Riley’s. Touching Riley under Aaron’s watchful eye would be awkward, to say the least.
Maybe Aaron would tire of waiting and leave before she could get to Riley, she thought. As promised, Riley had brought several friends—Kyle among them. They were seated ahead of both Riley and Aaron. But as she worked her way down the line, Aaron didn’t leave, as she hoped. She could feel his hazel eyes drilling into her as Riley removed his shirt and climbed onto her table.
Unable to stop herself, she glanced over. She was expecting Aaron to grin or do something else to tip her off that he was enjoying her discomfort. That had to be why he’d come—to rattle her cage. But he didn’t smile. He seemed to be on edge throughout the massage, especially when it was over and Riley signed up for twenty future appointments.
“Are you sure you want to buy that many?” she asked in surprise. He’d selected her biggest package.
He pulled her close to answer. Although she saw Aaron’s expression darken, he didn’t move or speak up. For that she was grateful.
“If I buy a bunch, maybe other people will see it and do the same,” Riley whispered.
She smiled despite her niggling concern over the hostility that seemed to be rolling off Aaron. “That’s incredibly generous,” she whispered back. “But I already owe you so much. I’ll do them for free.”
“This is the only payment I want.” He brushed his lips across hers before she had any idea what he meant to do.
Aaron’s chair banged against the wall, letting everyone know that he was no longer sitting. “I don’t think that comes with the package,” he said.
As soon as it dawned on Riley that Aaron wasn’t joking, Riley stepped up to him, and Presley’s heart jumped into her throat.
Were they about to fight?
It certainly felt like it.
“Aaron, I’m sorry you’re having to wait so long,” she said, s
lipping between them. “But if you wouldn’t mind coming back when I’m not so busy, I’ll make sure you get your massage.”
She held her breath as his gaze cut to her before returning to Riley. Riley looked every bit as strong and muscular as Aaron, but Presley had no doubt that Aaron could make quick work of him. To her knowledge, Riley had never had to fight for anything.
That didn’t mean he was willing to back down, however. As far as she could tell—from the aggressive jut of his chin, his combative stance, even that kiss, which had suggested he was marking his territory—he seemed to be deliberately provoking Aaron.
“Temper getting the better of you again?” Riley spoke softly, but those words were intended as a taunt and there was no way to mistake that.
“Watch yourself,” Aaron said, his voice low, muscles tense.
“Or what?”
Aaron’s eyes flicked to Riley’s fists. “It’s hard to kiss a pretty girl when your jaw is wired shut.”
“If you start something, I won’t hold back,” Riley warned.
“Then you’ll have your ass handed to you.”
Riley’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are. But you have no right to get involved. Just because you once slept with a woman, that doesn’t give you any say over her life two years later.”
She and Aaron hadn’t last slept together two years ago; they’d slept together last night—so recently that Presley could understand why Aaron might be bothered by Riley’s actions. But Aaron didn’t betray her.
“I have more right than someone who’s never slept with her,” he said.
“I don’t care about the past,” Riley snapped. “I care about now. You don’t have any claim on her. That’s what I’m saying.”
Again, Aaron didn’t correct him about what was in the past and what wasn’t. Thank goodness. Presley was embarrassed enough—or would’ve been if she wasn’t too worried for that. She could sense Riley’s friends gathering behind him, knew the odds were shifting in his favor but doubted Aaron would take that into account. He didn’t walk out as she was hoping, which seemed to prove he’d take them all on, if necessary.
