by Donna Alward
“Willow,” he supplied. He knew because he’d helped in the past, and because Ethan usually worked one of the displays each year as part of the fire department. “The other one you pointed at is called the Chrysanthemum.”
“And it does look like the flower. What’s your favorite?” she asked in return.
“Kamuro. They’ll have those soon, and I’ll show you.”
“How do you know this stuff?”
“From Ethan.”
They paused to oooh and aaah at a particularly nice sequence. “So, what does Kamuro mean?”
He laughed. “Ethan told me it has something to do with some hairstyle or something. I don’t know if it’s true.” There was a break in the display for squiggly bursts and horsetails, and then as the program moved to the last half, bigger, bolder bursts. “There,” he said, pointing. There were three in a row: blue, then white, then red. They piled on top of each other before disintegrating as they fell. “That’s the Kamuro.”
“It’s beautiful.”
More silence, but there was something different now. The air had changed between them. There was a tension, a delicious little acknowledgement that there was something here, something pulling them together.
Her fingers crept along the blanket and tangled with his, and he closed his eyes briefly. Sweet, he thought, and the idea made his heart ache a little bit. He knew in school he’d played the jock. The goofball. No one saw this quieter, more serious side of him, and he found it frustrating sometimes. And yet he knew it was his own fault. No one saw it because he didn’t let them see it. He laughed things off. Acted as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
The truth was he was hurt more easily than he’d ever let on. And growing up he’d never shown it. He hadn’t wanted to be any trouble. A burden.
So he held her hand and said nothing more. They just watched the end of the show, the big finale with colors and loud bangs and screams that ended with cheering and clapping from the lake shores, the sound tinny and thin as it reached them up on the golf course and the seventh tee where they were utterly and completely alone.
* * *
Laurel closed her eyes as the pops and bangs faded away. She wanted to absorb this minute and hold on to it as long as she could. In the distance were cheers and clapping of appreciation, but up here, where they were surrounded by trees and manicured grass, there was just her, and Aiden, and the feel of her smaller hand tucked securely into his warm one.
“Laurel?”
She didn’t know if it was the lack of background noise, or the darkness, or the fragility of the moment, but Aiden’s voice sounded deeper and softer when he said her name. It sent ripples of awareness fluttering over her skin, and she shivered.
“Yes?”
“You’re cold.”
“I’m fine.”
He shook his head. “Here.” He sat up, then shimmied closer on the blanket so she could lean back into his arms. It was intimate and cozy and both scary and exciting, being in the circle of his arms. Even though he hadn’t tried a single thing that was sexual, he didn’t have to. The proximity was plenty.
“Is that better?” he asked.
It was. His arms were strong and warm and she resisted the urge to snuggle down even more. “It is, thanks.”
“I was going to ask.… Before, when you said something like the town had no idea … what did you mean?”
She should have known that slip wouldn’t escape his notice. Aiden remembered everything. Maybe it was a byproduct of his occupation or maybe he was just sharp. Either way, she knew she had to answer him. Because the other trait she knew he possessed was the one that didn’t give up until he had answers.
“I don’t suppose it’s big news, now.” She tried to downplay the importance. “It’s just that Dan’s getting married.”
“Oh.” And then a few seconds later, “Ohhh.”
“Yeah.” She took a deep breath, let it out. It really did feel lovely, being held like this. Maybe more than it had when he’d been kissing her. “And I agreed to help with the wedding.”
She felt him shift, looked sideways and caught him staring at her. “You did?”
She shrugged. “He wanted help with plants and flowers and stuff for around the bridge. How could I say no? It would make me seem so small and petty.”
Aiden cursed softly. “Setting boundaries isn’t being small and petty. It’s a big thing he’s asked of you.”
“I know.”
“How do you feel about it?”
She shrugged again, realized she’d been doing that a lot lately to avoid what had really been on her mind. “I’m okay. I’m glad he’s going to be happy.”
Aiden was quiet for a moment and then he gave her arms as squeeze as he tightened his embrace. “No,” he said softly, “I didn’t ask you for the office press response. I mean, how do you really feel about it?”
Her throat seemed to tighten all of a sudden. Leave it to Aiden to not be content with face value. Her parents had told her she was crazy, and Willow had been great, but they’d accepted her words as truth when really she was far more upset about it than she let on.
“I’m … I’m mad as hell,” she admitted. The impact of her confession took the wind right out of her lungs and she gulped in some air. “Oh, I feel awful saying that. I shouldn’t be mad. And I am happy for him, but God. There’s ‘let’s stay friends’ and then there’s over-involvement, you know? And I think this is Dan’s way of trying to apologize and maybe even make himself feel better because he hasn’t left me out in the cold. Some days I just wish he would. Get on with his life and stop trying so hard.”
“Why don’t you tell him that?”
Good question. “I don’t know. Maybe because he’s a good guy underneath it all, and he’s had to deal with a lot lately. Maybe after the wedding he’ll just focus on his life and realize he doesn’t have to be a part of mine. I don’t need him to ease away gently.”
It was true, she realized. It would have been easier if they’d just made a polite but clean break. This insistence on remaining friends was difficult. Even with Willow, she’d put a happy face on it. But tonight was the first time she’d ever come right out and said that she wished Dan would make a permanent exit from her life.
She lowered her voice. “Trouble is, Aiden, I think he has to be the one to do it. I meant it when I said he’s been through a lot. I don’t want to be one more person who craps all over him, you know? Not everyone’s been supportive. I just want to move on.”
Aiden chuckled a little, the sound warm as his chest vibrated against her ribs. “You didn’t worry so much about my feelings way back when. Maybe Dan needs a milkshake treatment.”
Laurel knew she should laugh, but couldn’t bring herself to. “I am sorry about that. I truly am. We were young and stupid and … hot-headed.” She sighed. “Our problems back then were so huge at the time. Now I look back and wish I hadn’t been so narrow-sighted.”
“I hurt you. I get it. And embarrassed you. You picked the perfect response. I just wish I could have apologized better at the time.”
“Hey, growing up is all about learning and growing. I’ll let you off the hook, once and for all, and maybe you can forgive me for losing my temper.” She sighed. “God, at seventeen we were all so dramatic.”
He did laugh then, and more goose bumps erupted on her body.
“This feels like a real truce,” he said. “Not just lip service.”
“Maybe it is. Maybe I’m starting to realize that life is too short.”
“Too short for what?”
“To hang on to stuff that doesn’t make you happy.” She decided something then. After the wedding she was going to talk to Dan. They could be civil, but this pretense of friendship was too much. Too awkward. And it was keeping her from moving forward with her life.
Just making the decision lifted a weight off her shoulders and she relaxed into Aiden’s embrace. Despite Hannah’s rather blunt observations, Laurel had had a r
eally great day. This was a perfect way to end it, too. They were all alone, under the stars, listening to the wind in the maples and birches lining the golf course. A pale moon shone down on them, lighting some corners and casting shadows in others.
Awareness shimmered between them. Neither said anything, and Laurel didn’t want to be the first to break the tenuous spell wrapping around them. Instead she offered the tiniest invitation: she moved her head, just the smallest bit, lifting her chin so that her temple rubbed against his jaw.
He moved his right hand, sliding it up along her arm in slow, grazing motions.
I’m interested, her nudge said.
I’ll go slow, his fingers responded.
She leaned back more, so that her head rested against his broad shoulder, and in response his hand slid off her arm and over her ribs, then up to her breast; an easy, feather-light touch.
More, the open angle of her neck invited.
More, he agreed, cupping her breast in his hand.
Her breath caught in her chest as a dart of desire shot straight to her core. When she tried to inhale, her breath was shaky.
“Mmm,” he murmured against her ear, and the warm vibration had her shuddering in his hands.
“Mmm,” she agreed, and turned her head so that her lips touched the warm, taut skin of his neck. She kissed the hollow of his throat, felt his pulse there, tasted the slight saltiness of his skin.
“Laurel,” he whispered.
“You wanted privacy, didn’t you?” she asked, feeling rather bold. Glad he’d chosen the golf course instead of watching the fireworks with the throngs of people below. No one needed to know they were here. No one needed to speculate or ponder or comment. It was just her, and him, and this lovely soft blanket beneath them, and the scent of new grass and fresh earth.
He didn’t answer her question, but he shifted his weight so that she was suddenly the one with her back closest to the blanket and he was above her, holding her with one strong arm. She lifted her hand and placed it on his chest, then deliberately reached back to remove her hair band and shake her hair free, tipping her head back in silent invitation.
He pressed his weight against her, cushioning her with his hand as he lay her down on the blanket. Then and only then did he kiss her, small, nibbling bites that fueled her desire and made her long for more. He kissed her lips and cheeks and eyelids and jaw, trailed his mouth over the sensitive hollow of her neck.
“Oh,” she gasped, and she arched against him in response.
He rested on his side, his hip bearing most of his weight, and he captured her lips in a more consuming kiss this time, a dance of tongues and intentions while his hand resumed fondling her breast, rubbing his thumb over the hard tip. She twined her leg around his, holding him close against her body, giving her leverage as she pressed her pelvis against him.
“Laurel,” he whispered in the darkness. “God, Laurel.”
“Don’t stop,” she whispered back. “Touch me again, Aiden.” She wanted this so much. Wanted the contact. Wanted … oh God. Wanted to be with someone who really wanted her. She hadn’t realized how much doubt she’d been left with after the divorce. “Touch me and tell me it’s real.”
“It’s real.” He pushed up her shirt, tugged at it until he got it over her head, and she was in her bra on the blanket. His gaze blazed into hers and she knew he had to be telling her the truth. Between that and the evidence pressed against her outer thigh, she knew he was right there with her in the turned-on department.
“It’s so real.” To her surprise, he reached behind his head and grabbed the neck of his shirt, pulling it off in one efficient movement.
He was magnificent. That night at her house it had been too quick, and all clothing had stayed on. And when he’d changed his shirt, he’d been over by his truck. This time though … Oh. His skin was pale and lightly freckled. Muscles rippled along his shoulders, down his arms, across his wide chest and tapered to lean, toned abs. “I want to touch you, too,” she whispered, lifting her hand and running her fingers over the skin of his stomach.
His eyes slammed closed and he took a sharp breath. Encouraged, she let her hands trail over his chest, stopping to graze the tiny, hard nipples, running the backs of her fingers down his pecs and ribs to his abs. “You’re hard. And soft. And awesome,” she murmured.
He opened his eyes and met her gaze. Then he reached behind her back and undid the clasp of her bra with one hand.
He peeled the fabric back and Laurel felt the cool air on her breasts. It was a strangely erotic feeling, something she’d never felt before. Her sex life had been rather vanilla, without much of a sense of adventure. This felt risky, and different, and exciting. It was even better when he bent his head and laved his tongue over her nipple.
She couldn’t help the reaction. She arched her back, pressing herself even more fully against his mouth.
It was suddenly just more. More frantic, more demanding, more everything. Laurel closed her eyes, shutting out the moon and stars and letting herself simply feel the glorious sensations of Aiden’s mouth and hands. He made sounds of pleasure against her skin; she gasped for breath as arousal pounded through her veins. He slid his tongue up her body, leaving a wet trail that cooled in the evening breeze, before pressing his hot mouth to hers. And then he slid his hand down, down, cupping her through her shorts, then flicking open the button at her waist and slipping his hand inside. Inside her shorts. Inside her panties.
She was hot and ready, and she cried out a little when he hit his target.
This was where they’d been all those years ago when they’d been parking in his car and she’d begged him to stop. She’d been in leggings and a sweater and the windows were steamed up and his hand had been down her pants into territory she’d never been in before.
She wasn’t that green girl any longer, and she had needs and wants and experience. Laurel stopped thinking and focused on simply feeling. And right now she felt wonderful and deliciously taut with growing arousal.
“Touch me,” Aiden demanded, and she pressed her hand against the zipper of his jeans. It became very clear where they both wanted this evening to go. His hips jerked against her fingers as they fit around his form through the denim.
Breath, hot and labored. Gasping into the air, breathing against her skin, his tongue was hot, his fingers strong and talented. Sensations began to build deep in her abdomen.
“Hey! Hey you down there!”
A flashlight beam cut through the darkness.
CHAPTER 10
“Fuck.” Aiden swore succinctly as they froze.
“Hey! This is private property!”
“Don’t move,” Aiden cautioned. “Hang on.” He reached a few feet away for her shirt, slid it over her chest to at least cover her breasts from view.
“Hey, can you cut the light for a second?” Aiden called out into the darkness.
“Gallagher, is that you?”
Aiden repeated his earlier word. Three times. “Yeah. So how about some privacy, huh?”
The beam shifted to the left and Laurel heard laughter echoing through the air. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “Did you … I mean, did you know? That there was security?”
“Of course not.” Aiden reached for his shirt and pulled it on over his head. “Believe me, the last thing I wanted just now was to be interrupted.”
He wasn’t the only one. Her body still pulsed, longing for release.
“Block me so they can’t see me, okay?” she asked, shifting on the blanket. Aiden moved, shielding her from view while she pulled on her shirt. “Hand me my bra?” She figured getting her shirt on first was the biggest priority. As quickly as she could, she fastened the clasp and pulled up the shoulder straps.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m good now.”
“Stay here. I’ll handle this.”
“Hey, Gallagher? You ’bout done?”
“Will you shut up, please? Just go. We’ll leave, promise.”
“Can’t do that, buddy. Gotta make sure you’re off the premises.” Whoever it was sounded like they were enjoying things just a little too much.
Aiden sighed, looked back at Laurel. “They’re gonna stick it to me, Laurel. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.” It wasn’t, really. The whole purpose of being up here was privacy and she’d let herself go because she’d thought they were completely alone. Now she’d been caught, literally with her pants down, with the very guy everyone thought she hated.
“I’ll try to get rid of them.”
She watched him stride away. What had she been thinking? Only moments ago she’d been coming apart in his arms and now.… It was like hot and cold. Light and dark. Reality and unreality. She got up, adjusted her clothing, and started folding the blanket. After this, a quick exit was probably the best plan.
“Hey, Laurel,” came the congenial shout, and she sighed. So much for going unrecognized. Or maybe Aiden had given up her name.
She sighed. “Hey,” she called back, and the folding of the blanket got more precise.
“Come on, man. Give me a break.” Laurel heard Aiden’s voice plead with the other man, who she now understood by the shape of his cap was an officer and coworker.
“Dude, you parked your truck right next to the gate. And you know it’s trespassing.”
“It’s the golf course, for God’s sake. It’s not like we were tearing it up on the greens or anything.”
“Yes, but after the latest vandalism issues, cameras were installed.”
Laurel was nearly to the group when the cop spoke the last line, and she blanched. “Cameras?” she asked weakly.
Aiden shook his head. “Not there. Right, Kyle?”
“No, not there. Just at the gates and clubhouse.” Kyle’s face softened a little when he looked over at Laurel. “Hey, I love to stick it to this guy, but don’t worry, Miss Stone. There’s nothing, uh … compromising. On camera.”
“You’re sure?” Aiden asked.
“That much security costs too much money. Don’t worry. Entrances and exits only.”
“Any chance you’ll keep this from the guys?” Aiden asked.
