“You should kiss me,” he murmured.
Her eyes sank closed as her hand gripped him tighter. Aiden kept hold of her face, lowering his head to her glossed lips. The sweet scent of strawberry rolled off her mouth, and he wondered if her waiting tongue tasted as sweet…
“Everything okay back here?” a voice bellowed through the warehouse.
Sadie’s eyes snapped open.
Aiden stood over her, debating whether or not to kiss her even though Axle’s head would appear in the doorway in a second.
She pulled away from him before he could and busied herself by cleaning up the paper towels and washing her hands.
Axle poked his head in, his face an Easter Island statue. He took in Sadie’s flushed cheeks and Aiden’s state of undress and his eyes widened a fraction. “Lose your shirt?”
“Nope, he’s got it right here,” Sadie lifted Aiden’s hand holding his soiled shirt and pressed it over his bare chest. He could still see the heat in her eyes. Heat he’d put there.
Aiden glanced at Axle. He couldn’t have given me five more seconds? Sadie licked her bottom lip. The lip Aiden had nearly had between his teeth a moment ago. Okay, ten more seconds.
Sadie stepped away from him. “We had a minor accident. I had to patch him up,” she told Axle, her voice forcibly casual. Aiden considered dropping a kiss onto her lips just to see what she’d do, but Axle’s surly presence was sort of ruining the mood.
Aiden walked for the door and Axle backed out of the doorway to let him by. “Thanks for the first aid,” he said to Sadie.
“Thanks for saving me,” she said, her lips twitching into a smile. “I had it.”
Instead of arguing, he decided not to let an opportunity as ripe as this one pass them by. “I never gave you an answer,” he said.
Her eyebrows pinched over her nose in the cutest look of confusion.
“I’d love to go to lunch with you.” He grinned at her as he backed away from the bathroom. “I’m going to change.”
Chapter 5
Sadie pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth to keep from responding.
She wasn’t about to argue in front of Axle. Aiden had used her own trick against her, roping her into lunch. Sadie was torn between being upset and impressed. She probably deserved it after the way she’d forced Aiden into signing the contract.
Axle either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care. Sadie didn’t know how. The small bathroom where he’d discovered his manager and parts supplier standing way too close to each other, one of them missing their shirt, snapped with sexual energy.
Sadie paced through the warehouse to the overturned box and scattered parts. Axle lowered to his haunches to help her clean up, but Sadie waved him off. “I got it, really.”
With a scowl that said he’d rather help her than not, he stood. “Sure?”
“I’m sure.” She smiled. Axle may not look the gentlemanly type, but he was. “I need to arrange them in a certain order,” she lied. What she needed was a moment alone. Some time to calm the jittery shake radiating through her limbs.
With one last glare at the mess at her feet, Axle stalked off.
Sadie turned the box over and started piling parts into it. When she’d instructed Aiden to take his shirt off, she knew what to expect. Golden flesh, fair hair covering his pecs and leading down to firm abs, a scar bisecting his otherwise perfect back.
The scar was less angry now. The red had faded to pink, the edges white. Until she traced it with her fingers, Sadie had been sure that like the scar on his back, she was healing, too. That she’d grown numb where Aiden was concerned.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
From the moment he embraced her to keep a fifty-pound box from emptying onto her head, to the way he looked into her eyes and demanded she kiss him, Sadie had been nowhere near numb.
And spotting that point of black-blue ink peeking out from his side, realizing what it represented…the pain of losing Aiden washed over her as fresh as if it’d happened a minute ago instead of a year ago.
The tattoo. Thorns and vines crisscrossed down his side, from the top of his ribs, and disappeared into the waistline of his pants. Thorns signifying pain. Struggle. Loss. Then the bright spot of color, the red of his mother’s roses, a symbol of her beautiful if not brief life. And Aiden’s gorgeous body a worthy canvas for the artwork.
She couldn’t keep from touching him. As if she could ease the pain the thorny expanse represented with her palm. Her hand on his skin invited the heat of his gaze on her lips and the look in his eyes brought reality crashing down around her.
He still cared about her.
She didn’t know how that made her feel. Hopeful, maybe? And fearful. Definitely some of both.
Being in his arms again, feeling his thumb brush her lip, reminded Sadie that once upon a time, she’d had it good. For a few isolated days last summer, she’d had more understanding, undeniable attraction, and connection than she would have dared pray for.
Enough.
Sadie dropped the last oil filter into the box and stood, dusting her hands on the back of her pants. Last year didn’t matter. Now mattered. And right now, Aiden was her coworker—albeit her very attractive, tattooed coworker—who had goaded her into lunch.
If Sadie was smart, and she was, she’d redirect her thoughts before sitting with him for an hour. The last thing she needed was for Aiden to see the ripples of attraction she felt when she was near him.
Part of her wanted to psychoanalyze the way she’d clutched on to Aiden, had shut her eyes, had so willingly waited for his lips on hers. Or maybe she just wanted to imagine they hadn’t been interrupted. That he had kissed her. That she’d kissed him back, right there in a cramped warehouse bathroom, her hands on his bare skin, the feel of his hot mouth turning her inside out…
But that wouldn’t be smart.
Giving her hectic thoughts one final shove out of her head, she walked down the hall in search of Aiden to remind him he was buying.
And he’d better not cheap out.
* * *
Sadie pushed her partially eaten salad aside, and Aiden plucked a piece of chicken off the top and ate it. As he chewed, he considered that he hadn’t asked and Sadie hadn’t argued. She’d been pretty agreeable all around, considering he’d conned her into going to lunch in the first place.
“Think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?” she’d asked him as they found an unoccupied table in the gourmet deli. She’d tried to sound scathed, but he’d seen the flicker of appreciation in her eye. He’d played her own game against her and Sadie, on some level, liked it.
“You’ve kept me in suspense long enough.” Sadie took a long swallow of her iced tea. “When are you going to tell me this big secret involving Axle Zoller?” she asked, wiggling her fingers for effect.
Aiden hadn’t brought it up over the last few days because, until today, his thoughts had ebbed and flowed like the tide. One minute, he was ready to go all in, the next he couldn’t imagine Axle’s shops working out any better than his previous endeavor into real estate development. He and failure were on a first-name basis.
He had the fleeting idea to keep his head down and work for someone else for the rest of his life. It was a lot less risky than taking on the largest motorcycle shops in the Midwest. Then he’d think back to the six agonizing months he’d worked side by side with Dad at the factory after Mom passed, and changed his tune. That place ate souls for dinner, and the drudgery had nearly killed him. Dad didn’t mind it. Hell if Aiden understood how.
“You have to promise not to tell anyone,” Aiden said, hoping sharing with Sadie wouldn’t return to bite him in the ass. This was a delicate balance he was trying to strike, here. “I mean it.”
“Yes! Yes, already, spill it.” Sadie frowned and a frustrated, adorable wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows.
He nearly smiled.
“When I stayed with my mom in Oregon last year, I wasn’t exactly honest
with my dad about how much her treatment cost.”
Empathy colored Sadie’s eyes at the mention of his mother, but she didn’t interrupt.
“I made an arrangement with a guy at the center to send the bills, and direct all billing questions, to me. When Dad’s money ran out earlier than we anticipated, I made up the difference.”
He took a drink of his soda. Contributing his money had been a no-brainer. Mom had been at the facility two months by then, was looking better than ever, and, Aiden thought, had a good shot at a full recovery.
Didn’t work out that way.
“I put my house on the market,” he continued. “But that was more a long-term plan than anything, so I arranged to sell my vintage motorcycle collection to Axle.” Aiden inhaled and blew out a breath. Axle had kept his secret. Aiden had Fed-Exed his garage key to Axle and told him to take all of them but Sheila. The money from the bikes went to his mother’s stay, and when she took a turn for the worse, the remainder went to making her as comfortable as possible when he brought her home to die.
“At least Mom got to spend her final days at home…with us.” He paused to clear his throat, clenching the napkin in his fist to keep his emotions at bay. Losing her had nearly killed him.
Sadie’s hand covered his, reminding him she was here. Another show of support. He swore he felt the echoing heat on his ribs where she’d touched him earlier. He started again, only to trail off. “After she…”
Sadie nodded, giving him permission not to say the words, giving him an out. He took it. Even though he felt a little like his father doing it. “After…I went to work with Dad. I didn’t know what to do with myself and I couldn’t leave him alone. He was so…okay with everything. Never saw him cry or mourn.
“In the god-awful monotony of factory work”—he slid her a dry glance—“I had a lot of time to think about what I really wanted, what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. And one day, it hit me. What made me happiest? The answer was easy: my motorcycles.”
And you, he thought but didn’t say.
Sadie moved her hand back to her lap.
“Axle had mentioned his retirement plan when I arranged the sale of the bikes. So a few months back, I called him up and asked if he’d like to train me in-house and sell Axle’s to me. He liked the idea.”
“You’re going to be the new Axle?” Sadie asked.
“Well, I’d be the new owner. To be the new Axle, I’d have to gain a hundred pounds of muscle and grow my hair long again, wouldn’t I?”
At the mention of his lost locks, Sadie’s eyes flared with desire. Or maybe he was projecting. Aiden had fond memories of her hands threaded in his hair while he kissed her into submission. Of the sound of her soft mewls, the feel of her pliant lips…He shifted in his seat and searched his addled brain for where he’d left off.
“Are you buying all five stores?” Sadie asked, thankfully steering him back onto topic.
“That was the plan. Until his three-year retirement was bumped forward to three months.”
“Three months!”
Aiden dropped the napkin on his empty plate. “Yeah. I’m a little shy on the down payment, and loans aren’t looking good, since I have no house.” He sent her a sideways smile. “And you thought I couldn’t get any sexier than the divorced, jobless thirty-year-old you met last year. Now I live with my dad.” He nodded, teasing to lighten the mood. “I’m a chick magnet.”
A small smile played on Sadie’s face, but she didn’t laugh. Aiden didn’t feel like laughing, either. At one point, he’d had more money than he knew what to do with. Enough to buy Harmony a booth at The Brink so she could spend all summer pretending to make a living weaving hemp into bracelets. Enough to build a bike collection he could be proud of. Enough to dump a huge portion of that money into the hotel and casino right before Daniel and Harmony had the affair.
Aiden had walked away from all of it. Had given Harmony everything she wanted in the divorce with barely a fight. Had walked away from the business he’d cofounded, the business that eventually buckled under the soon-to-be frigid economical climate.
The urge to get everything back didn’t just revolve around his motorcycles. Sure, he wanted them, but he wanted more what they represented.
Passion.
At some point, before Aiden went into business for the money and married Harmony for…God knew what reason, Aiden was passionate about his life. Losing his wife, his business, his mother, and Sadie…had sucked the passion, the life, right out of him. Until the day he was stamping holes into flat metal pieces at a rate of a zillion a minute at the factory. His mother’s final words to him, before she’d grown too weak to speak, hit him like a sledgehammer to the temple.
You’re like me, Aiden. You have this unwavering optimism. Never lose that.
Unwavering optimism. He had to sift through a mountain of refuse to remember what he’d been like before. What better way to honor his mom, to keep that part of her alive, than to find what he loved and make a living doing it?
“I have a plan,” Aiden said, his purpose renewed. “I just need to pitch it to Axle. If he turns me down, he’ll sell to the highest bidder…and I can assure you, it won’t be me.”
Sadie’s face went visibly pale. “But the Midwest contract…” She blinked, winced. “That was selfish.”
Aiden couldn’t help chuckling. “We signed you for a year, Sadie. You’ll be okay for a while.”
She didn’t smile. “Yes, but I have a five-year plan for Axle’s. Whoever takes over might not like Midwest, might not like me,” she added, her eyebrows bowing in worry.
“Impossible,” he muttered, meaning it. He couldn’t figure for the life of him why her weenie of an ex-fiancé had chosen her sister over Sadie. He’d choose her Lava-soap abrasiveness any damn day of the week.
She ignored his compliment, eyes widening. “What if you’re not there…What if Axle’s gets bought out by some corporate giant who already has a national contract with another supplier? Probably ‘Something’ Unlimited. Motorcycles Unlimited.” Her lip curled.
Aiden put a hand on Sadie’s wrist to halt her tirade on the woes of corporate restructuring. “All the more reason for you to help me convince him I’m the right buyer.”
She looked at his hand covering hers, then back at him, her expression hardening. “Okay.” She folded her hands together on the table and the sharp glint returned to her brown eyes. “Tell me your plan and I’ll tell you if it’s crap or not.”
* * *
“Going to see your boyfriend today?” Perry chimed in as Sadie knelt to retrieve a granola bar from the break room vending machine.
Clenching her teeth into a forced a smile, Sadie stood and faced him. “Which one?”
“Touché. I’m talking about Axle. You have to be doing something to have landed that five-store deal. He turned you down for three years straight,” Perry said, suffering no shyness when it came to reminding her how she’d struggled.
Sadie clenched her fist around her breakfast, the foil wrapper crinkling. “My persistence paid off, I guess,” she said as she headed for the door.
“Or maybe it’s because you used to date the new guy.”
Sadie halted midstep. She shouldn’t turn around. Shouldn’t give merit to Perry’s jabbering. But neither could she let him spread rumors and tarnish her reputation. She forced a placid expression and faced him. “What are you talking about?”
“Word gets around,” Perry said, not bothering to answer her. He didn’t say like you, but his smarmy smile implied it.
“Well…he had nothing to do with it.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Perry said with an exaggerated shrug. “He dumped you, right? Probably doesn’t take you into consideration at all.”
When Sadie pulled in and parked in Axle’s lot, she was still seething from her run-in with Perry. Normally Perry was flirtatious just this side of annoying, but ever since she’d landed Axle’s stores, he’d been downright mean. He’d hit
her below the belt this morning, and without a twinkle of levity in his eye. He’d meant to throw her off, make her stumble. She recalled the smirk on his face.
Bastard.
She stomped to the front door. It was unlocked, but the store didn’t open for another fifteen minutes. Good. She could use a few minutes to pull herself together. Her anger was burning off and if she wasn’t careful, would turn into tears. She may as well have eaten an estrogen sandwich this morning for how emotionally off-kilter she felt.
This, she could not allow.
She took a few deep breaths, sealing her emotions behind a brick wall of confidence. She could do this, could ignore the shake working its way down her arms to her fingers and causing her pen to rattle. Or so she thought. It was hard to write legibly when her body shook like she’d mainlined a triple espresso.
Giving up her note-taking, she propped her elbows on a shelf. She was grateful the store lights were off, and sucked in a clarifying breath. She visualized her anger ebbing, but it didn’t recede. It persisted, simmering just under the surface. How had Perry found out about Aiden? They didn’t know each other. She hadn’t shared her heartbreak with anyone at work. Unless…
She had several phone conversations with Crickitt last year, especially after Aiden left for Oregon. Many of them were made from the faux privacy of her open-air cubicle. Anyone could have heard. Perry could have easily eavesdropped and mentally logged the conversations for later…to throw her off when she was getting ahead.
“Bastard,” Sadie growled as the overhead lights winked on.
“Hope you’re not talking about me,” Aiden said, strolling down the aisle in her direction.
Sadie faced him. He looked as warm and welcome and familiar as Perry did standoffish, undesirable, and douchey. She shook her head. “Not you.”
Aiden assessed her before offering her the mug in his hand. “You look like you need this more than I do.”
“Only if there’s whiskey in it.”
“Like I said.”
She couldn’t help it, she smiled. And at Aiden’s insistence, she accepted the mug and took a sip. No whiskey, but it did have some sort of flavored creamer in it. “Thank you for this,” she said.
Hard to Handle Page 6
