The one thing I wanted when I’d finally made it home was to see Rose. To kiss her maybe, but definitely just to hold her. Oh, and smell her hair. She had the best fucking smelling hair.
I was not expecting to find Rose pissed off. Truly, the thought hadn’t entered my mind.
But it was the cutest fucking thing, Rose mad.
Generally, I did not enjoy it when females were angry. But with Rose, everything was different. See, the way I saw it, you can only be as mad at someone to a certain threshold. If Rose didn’t have feelings for me, then she clearly wouldn’t be that upset with me. So, if she wanted to be pissed, I’d figure out why and make it right. And then we’d talk about what it meant.
“Sweetheart,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Don’t insult me and tell the oldest lie in the book. You’re pissed. What’s up?”
She shut the door with a quick thud and walked past me directly into the kitchen where she proceeded to pour more wine into her already full glass.
“You may not have picked up on this yet, but I keep a pretty tight schedule. And if there’s one way to make me angry, it’s to allude to the idea of plans and then show up at the last minute and expect me to be excited to see you.”
“I’m sorry for not contacting you sooner, Rose.” My upfront, no bullshit apology caught her off guard. I could tell because she almost choked on her wine. “I would have called, but I dropped my phone in the Sandy River while I was on a site today. And I would have just called you when I got back to my office, where I could have used my computer to look up the number to your office, but the flat tire I got on the unpaved back road I was driving on, which was easily five miles from civilization, made it difficult to get back in time to make that phone call.”
I watched as my story slowly sank in. Watched as the anger melted away and morphed into confusion, then guilt.
“I walked to the closest gas station, run by a man in his seventies. Only had a land line, so I used it to call someone to come change my tire. That took forever. I called it a night when the sun started to set on my drive home. Got here, you weren’t home yet, so I took a shower and here I am.”
“Aiden,” she whispered, clearly sorry for the show she’d put on.
“I know what it looks like, what you must have been thinking. And I apologize. I was thinking about you all day before the shit hit the fan, and even more so afterward.”
“No, I’m sorry. I was a bitch. I’m just not used to this.”
“To what?” I wanted to hear her say the words.
“To, I don’t know, caring. To worrying about why the man I thought I shared something with hadn’t called me. Then that turned into me worrying that maybe it was only something to me.” She gave a little laugh, pathetic as it sounded. “I turned into every woman I’ve pitied for most of my adult life.”
I crooked a finger at her. “C’mere.”
Much to my great pleasure, she didn’t hesitate to come to me and walked straight into my arms, burying her face in my chest.
“It was something to me too,” I said against her hair. “And I’m sorry. I couldn’t control most of what happened today, but I’m sorry you still felt that way about me and about us.”
“Last week I would have told anyone I had evolved above relationships, that I didn’t need them and I wasn’t interested in them. But, honestly, now I’m starting to realize perhaps I’m a little stunted in the relationship department.”
“Don’t worry.” I winked. “I’ll get you caught up.” I kissed her then, thankful she let me. I’d been thinking about kissing her all day. “Can I use your phone to order dinner?”
She laughed and tipped up on her toes to kiss me again. I let her. I’d always let her kiss me.
“Yes. And the salad was fantastic, but can you order some breadsticks too?”
“They gonna fit into your carb schedule?”
She shrugged one shoulder as she handed me her phone.
“I’ll figure something out. I already opened the wine. The chocolates were about to be next. But if you have breadsticks delivered to my door, well, that’s a whole new level of swoon you’re going to see from me.”
“Is bread the way into your heart?” I laughed.
“Hmmm,” she said in mock contemplation. Tapping her index finger against her lips. “I don’t know about my heart, but it’ll get you into other places.”
“You’re pretty dirty for a virgin.”
She slapped me on the arm for that one, and I totally deserved it. Luckily, she was laughing too.
“You forgive me?” I asked, pulling her up against me again.
“I do, but only if you forgive me.”
“Deal. We’re both sorry and we’re both forgiven. But I must admit, sweetheart...”
“Yeah?”
“You’re fucking sexy when you’re pissed.”
I had to laugh when she slapped me again.
“Do you want some wine?” She walked back toward the glass she’d abandoned.
“I think I may just go grab a beer from my fridge.” Swiping the front of her phone, the password screen popped up. “Oh, can you unlock it for me?” I held it out to her, but she didn’t take it from me.
“Eight-Two-Four-Nine.”
“What?”
“My password. It’s Eight-Two-Four-Nine.”
Lifting the wine glass to her lips, she took a sip of wine, like nothing had happened. And truly, nothing really had. To Rose, she was simply solving a problem. There was an obstacle and she found the easiest and most efficient way to get over it. There was not one inkling in her being that thought twice about giving me the password to her phone.
That was a testament to how much care I had to take with her.
She had no idea I’d never given my phone password to a girlfriend, or vice versa. Phone passwords were almost to the level of house keys. If you gave a woman the code to your phone, you meant business. And if a woman offered you hers, you either were glad you got it or it made you think twice about the relationship altogether.
She was so innocent in so many ways, and so damned fierce and strong in others.
“It’s the last four digits of my phone number growing up.”
I punched in the four numbers and her phone illuminated. Her screen was a photo of her and another woman.
“Who’s this?” I asked, turning the phone around so she could see.
“That’s my friend Lily. We met in college. That was at her wedding last year.”
“Are you guys close?”
“Not so much anymore. When I moved out here I started drifting away from the friends I had made back home. They all started getting engaged and married. And then the babies started coming. We just kind of didn’t have a lot in common anymore.”
“I can understand that.” There was a heavy pause and I added, “Hadley and Riley think you’re great. You know that, right?”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach all the way to the edge of her eyes. When she really smiled there were tiny crinkles that formed there. And her nose scrunched with wrinkles at the top.
“They’re great, too.”
I didn’t want to push the subject too much, so I dropped it, giving her a smile and hoping she knew how lucky people were to know her.
The food arrived and even though Rose argued and tried to pay, I still didn’t let her. One day in the future I’d let her pay for a date, but there was a need at the moment to take care of her, to show her in any way that I could provide for her. It was cute when she tried to act tough and force money on me, but there wasn’t any way she was paying for our meal that night. Not when I’d unintentionally blown her off the day after taking her virginity. No, that didn’t sit well with me at all.
We sat at her table and ate, and I was pleased when she took a second breadstick.
“Your place is nice,” I said between bites. “Much homier than mine.”
“Well, when I moved in I intended to stay more than a few months.”
&n
bsp; “And how long ago was that?”
“About five years, I guess.” She took a sip of her wine and I watched as her lips pressed gently around the glass. My attraction to Rose was strong, stronger than it had ever been with any other women, and it made it difficult to watch her do normal things, like drink wine.
She placed her glass back on the table and added more to her story.
“When I first moved here, since I didn’t really know the area well, I rented an apartment a little farther out and took the train in. It seemed like a good idea to move somewhere livable first, scope the area, and then make more permanent arrangements.”
I held back a laugh at how pragmatic she sounded.
“But after just a few weeks I realized I’d moved into a part of town where a lot of younger adults were living, which theoretically I was too, but they were loud and obnoxiously inconsiderate of people who worked long hours and valued peace and quiet. So, I found this building and it’s worked out marvelously.”
“Not counting the last few weeks since I’ve started corrupting you—ˮ
She rolled her eyes and I couldn’t hold back a laugh again.
“When was the last time you did anything besides your typical daily schedule? Something non-work related or on one of your many lists?”
“Why would I do something that wasn’t on a list? Even if it’s sporadic, it’s still going on a list.”
“I think the definition of the word sporadic excludes it from being on a list.”
Her head tilted to the side and her eyes narrowed at me.
“I think you’re bending the definition of the word to fit your own personal agenda. Even if it’s irregular or scattered, it can still go on a list. That’s what my cell phone is for, on the go lists. And even if my phone isn’t handy, I’ve always got a pen and notepad handy.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“I’m willing to bet if you needed a ruler at this very moment, you’d be able to locate one rather quickly.”
“A ruler?” I scoffed.
“You know, for measuring things?”
“You mean a tape measure?”
“Whatever it’s called.” She waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Do you have one in your condo?”
“And in my truck.”
“Case and point. Your tools are always handy and so are mine.”
“My tools don’t dictate my life.”
“Or, perhaps I’m just more self-aware and can accept that I am a combination of the things around me. I’ve surrounded myself not only with the things that help me operate and function within my world, but also recognize and value how much they help me.”
“You’re so fucking cute,” I said, not holding back the large laugh that exploded out of me. And I’d be damned if she didn’t blush at my compliment. “And perhaps a little right.”
“I’m a lot right, sweetheart.” She took a bite of her breadstick and winked at me.
For someone who claimed to have never done much of it, Rose sure knew how to flirt.
“You’re trouble,” I muttered just before taking a pull from my beer.
Even though I’d been thinking about sex with Rose for about twenty-three of the past twenty-four hours, with an exhausting day behind me and a belly full of the best carbohydrates on that side of town, I was a pretty useless individual after dinner.
“I gotta be honest, I’m wiped.”
We’d just finished cleaning up the dinner mess and Rose was standing at the sink, wiping off the counter. She turned around to look at me with concern etched on her face. Her hair was up in another one of those messy buns and she was wearing pants that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, along with a T-shirt so big on her it slid off one of her shoulders.
“Oh, yeah, you had a long day.” She sighed and then looked down at her hands, which were fidgeting in front of her. “I’m sorry again, for everything.”
I walked to her and took her hands in mine, threading my fingers through hers and pulling them behind her back. I leaned into her until her body pushed back once she’d hit the counter. Her gaze floated up to me, her long lashes fluttering, and her breath catching as she gasped.
“I’m gonna be straight with you right now.” I bent and kissed her softly, loving the way her chest filled with air as she inhaled, pressing her breasts further against me. “I’m not ready to go home,” I said in between kisses I left along her jaw on my way to her throat.
“Mmm-hmm,” she replied, tilting her chin to make it easier for me to get where I was going. Only affirming the notion I already had that my girl liked it when I kissed her there.
“What I’d really like to do is lie on your couch, watch something on the TV and then sleep in your bed, with you.” Running my nose along the column of her neck, I breathed in her scent. “What do you think about that?”
“I think it’s a great plan.” Her voice was a rumbly whisper and her body was arching into mine.
“I thought about you all day, Rose. I couldn’t wait to get back to you. I just want you to know that.” I moved my mouth over her jaw, taking her bottom lip into my mouth.
“Aiden,” she whispered, her hips jutting forward.
“As much as I’d love to take you to bed and show you all the things I imagined doing to you, I think we better take a night off.”
I pulled back and looked her in the eye, trying to gauge her reaction to my idea to put sex on hold for one day.
“How are you feeling? Be honest.”
She shrugged one shoulder in the cute way she did often. “A little tender.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” she rasped, leaning forward and kissing me brazenly. “But I’ll let you have the night off if I get to pick what we watch.”
“Deal,” I said with a smile. “I’m gonna go grab something more suitable to wear while lying on the couch with my girl.” I kissed her quickly then released her and headed toward the door. She stayed by the sink and watched me go, her face flushed and smile wide.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rose
S
pringtime in Portland wasn’t usually noticeably different from much of winter. When it started raining in October, it usually didn’t stop until June. So, when the forecast for an early April morning called for sun and temperatures not requiring a heavy coat, I was more than happy to walk.
Sunshine always put me in a better mood, even if it was a Monday.
Although, for the past three weeks, Mondays weren’t nearly a hardship when you were waking up with Aiden in your bed. Or in his bed. Or even waking up with Aiden Daniels inside of you, because that happened once or twice. Being woken up with sex was, quite possibly, my new favorite. On some occasions it could even wake me up better than coffee.
Unfortunately, that morning hadn’t started with an orgasm.
Aiden had an early meeting somewhere in Washington and was gone by the time my alarm went off. My alarm, which usually was just my wake-up call to get out of bed, had turned into a wake-up call to make love with Aiden.
Who knew morning sex would be my thing?
I’d pushed snooze more times in the last month than I had in my entire life.
And it was incredible.
We’d fallen into a comfortable routine from the very beginning. We’d go our separate ways in the morning, after the sex, and meet up for dinner. Regardless of whether we were at his place, or I cooked dinner at mine, or we went out, we hadn’t spent one night apart since our first together.
On weekends if I had to work he got some work done too, or did his own thing, but the days always ended with us in the same bed.
It was the most wonderful feeling I never knew I was missing—the idea of coming home to someone. The idea of coming home to Aiden—there was nothing better.
On the rare occasion I didn’t have to work we did things together, things I’d normally done alone. He went jogging with me along the waterfront one Saturday morning. He came w
ith me to a farmer’s market and watched me sift through fresh produce and pick out flowers for my table. Last Sunday we jumped in his truck and he took me on a scouting trip for potential build sites. It was amazing driving through areas that were, for all intents and purposes, undeveloped and watch Aiden visualize a magnificent house there.
He’d brought a blanket and I’d packed a lunch and we’d had a picnic in the woods. The picnic had ended in some pretty fantastic get-in-touch-with-Mother-Nature sex and we both almost died laughing when he pulled a twig out of my hair halfway back to Portland.
Was I happy? Yes. But was I constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop? Absolutely.
But, in that moment, I was content and satisfied. Plus, Stephanie would be by with coffee and our Monday morning meeting would get the week started off on a productive note. I was ready to tackle anything.
At nine o’clock we had our coffee and my team started making their way into my office. The sun was streaming in through the windows and caffeine was pulsing through my veins.
“How is everyone today?” I asked once everyone was seated. They all responded with smiles and tales from their weekend adventures. Some of them had worked, some hadn’t. They all seemed to be in just as good of a mood as I was, though, and that made the meeting jump off to a great start.
“Mark, what’s on your agenda for the week?” I asked, pen ready to take notes.
“Surprisingly, it’s a slower week for me. I have some corporate events coming up, but a lot of the details are already ironed out, so I’ll just be out of the office a few times during business hours to oversee events. The biggest thing on my schedule is the campaign fundraiser for the mayor on Saturday night.”
“That must be absolutely on point, Mark,” I said, pointing my pen at him. “We’ve got to live up to our excellent reputation with the mayor’s wife,” I said, giving Riley a wink. Everyone in the room chuckled since Riley was the daughter-in-law of the mayor and first lady of Portland. Sometimes she worked on their events, but a lot of the time she deferred. I understood. Working with family could get sticky sometimes.
Coming Up Roses Page 17
