"Well, I don't hear any sirens so…" Savannah's voice trailed off with a small chuckle.
"That's not even funny."
"That's not what I'm laughing at." She climbed out of bed, much more gracefully than he had, and reached for the shirt he'd been about to pull over his head. She turned it right-side out, gave it a sharp shake, then held it out to him. "I'm laughing because I don't think I've ever heard you cuss before."
"What?" Aaron poked his head through the shirt, embarrassment lancing through him as he recalled several of his more colorful word choices in the last five minutes. He stammered an apology, only to have Savannah interrupt him with a soft kiss.
"You have nothing to apologize for."
"Yeah, I do. I try to keep the locker room talk in the locker room. I didn't mean to—"
"I know. Don't worry about it. I'm not."
He grunted, thought about pulling her closer for another kiss, then changed his mind. He wanted more than a kiss, and he sure as hell didn't have time for it.
"Do you know where my shoes are?"
Savannah moved toward the stained cherry dresser, her back to him as she pulled out a pair of sweat shorts and a tank top. "If you had them, they're probably downstairs. But I don't think you were wearing any."
Aaron grunted again, this time in disappointment as Savannah pulled her clothes on, covering all her soft curves. He jerked his gaze away from her ass and looked around the room once more, searching for shoes. "Are you sure I didn't have shoes on?"
"Pretty sure. If I find them, I'll bring them over. Now go." She placed her hand against the small of his back and guided him out of the room and down the stairs. She opened the patio door then leaned against it, a small smile on her face. Aaron stepped through, stopped, then turned and pulled her close for a deep kiss that ended entirely too soon.
"I had fun."
"Me, too."
"I mean it about lunch."
"You know where to find me."
"You're right, I do." He grinned and kissed her again, then forced himself to release her before he did something stupid—like toss her over his shoulder and carry her back upstairs.
He hurried across her yard and into his, slowing his steps as he approached the patio door. He hesitated, looking around for signs of destruction, listening for sounds that would indicate World War Three had recently erupted inside his house.
All was quiet. Maybe a little too quiet.
Cold air washed over him as he pushed the slider open. The large country kitchen was vacant but he could hear the sound of the television coming from the living room beyond. He moved across the room, his steps quiet, and peeked around the corner. A heavy sigh of relief left him when he saw Isabelle curled in the corner of the sofa, a closed book in one hand as she watched some kind of science show on the big screen television mounted on the wall.
"Hey, Sweet Pea. How was school?"
"Good." Her face scrunched up in a frown. "They gave us homework. On a weekend!"
Aaron bit back a smile. He totally agreed with her indignation but he couldn't let her know that. "Then don't you think you should be doing that instead of watching television?"
"This is part of it. We have to watch this show then answer these stupid questions." She waved a paper in front of her face then sat back with a deep sigh, making him bite back another smile.
"Then I guess I'll let you get back to your show."
"It's okay. It's on again tomorrow."
"Getting it out of the way early, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess." Isabelle tilted her head to the side, studying him with a quizzical look. "Why's your hair all messed up?"
"My hair?" Aaron ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it down and wondering if his ten-year-old daughter could see him blushing. Christ, he hoped not. "Um, where's your sister?"
"Upstairs. I think she's on her tablet."
"She better not be. I took that away from her two nights ago." He moved to the bottom of the stairs and raised his voice. "Brooke? Get down here."
He waited a minute then called again, louder this time. "Brooke. Now."
He heard something slam against the wall, then the loud sound of feet stomping across the floor. A few seconds later, Brooke appeared at the top of the stairs.
"What?"
"Are you on that tablet?"
"I need it for homework."
Aaron frowned, not missing the way she had phrased it. "You went into my room to get it? Without permission?"
"I said I needed it for homework."
"Without permission?"
"But I—"
"We went over this already. If you need it for homework, you ask me to get it. And then you do your homework down here in the kitchen, where I can watch you."
She stomped her foot and jammed one fist on her hip. "That is so stupid! You're treating me like a little baby."
"When you start acting like an adult, I'll treat you like one. Now get the tablet and bring it down here."
"I don't—"
"Now!"
Brooke muttered something under breath, just low enough that he couldn't hear—which was probably a deliberate calculation on her part. He listened as she stomped down the hall into her room, heard something else hit the floor. Then, right when he was ready to go upstairs after her, she stomped back up the hall and down the stairs, brushing by him as she moved to the kitchen.
He followed her in, his back teeth grinding when she slid the chair across the tile floor. She dropped into the chair and slid back in, scraping the floor with each little bounce as she moved closer to the table.
"Hand it over."
Brooke's eyes narrowed, anger rolling from her thin shoulders as she stared at him. He half-expected her to shove the chair back and storm from the room, screaming that she hated him again. But she didn't, just shoved the tablet across the table to him.
He tapped his finger against the screen, waking it, and immediately scrolled through to see which apps had been opened. Everything looked innocent enough—which meant absolutely nothing. He'd removed most of them, but that didn't mean Brooke couldn't add them back on or delete them before he had a chance to check. God knew, she was a hundred times better with the damn thing than he was.
He handed the tablet back to her. "Don't ever go into my room again. Is that understood?"
"But I needed—"
"Is that understood?"
"Maybe if you had been here instead of next door with your stupid girlfriend, I wouldn't have had to go into your room!"
The words acted like a slap to his face. How in the hell could Brooke know anything? Or was she just guessing? Had she looked out her bedroom window? Had she seen him kissing Savannah? Her room was at the back of the house, her window overlooking the yard. It was possible she might have seen, he wasn't sure.
No, she couldn't have. The angle was all wrong.
Did it matter?
Not right now, no. His personal life—what little he had—was his own business. But there was something about the way Brooke was watching him, something about the hooded expression in her eyes, that made him uncomfortable.
He ignored the sensation, denied the subtle accusation. "Savannah is a friend. I was helping her with something."
"Yeah, right."
"Just what is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing."
"Brooke, what's going on?"
"Nothing. Can I go now?"
"I thought you had homework."
"I'm finished already."
Aaron didn't buy that for a minute but he decided to let it slide—for now. "Then you may go. But you're punished this weekend."
"What? Why? I didn't do anything!"
"For going into my room when you know you're not supposed to."
"But I needed—"
"Then you should have waited."
"That's not fair!" She pushed away from the table so fast, the chair tilted back and would have hit the floor if he hadn't caught it.
"Brooke�
�"
"It's not fair!" She yelled the words and stormed across the room, stopping long enough to throw him a dirty look over her shoulder. "I ha—"
"Yeah, I know: you hate me."
Her eyes widened, then narrowed in anger. "I hate you!" She yelled the words, screeching them before tearing up the stairs.
Aaron sighed and sat down, his gaze on the blank screen of the tablet. He ran his hands through his hair then tilted his head back, following the sounds of Brooke's angry steps as she stomped to her room and slammed the door, her words still ringing in his ears and ripping a hole in his heart.
Chapter Eight
Tessa poked her head around the door of the refrigerator, a frown creasing her face. "So he seriously hasn't been back for seconds?"
"Tessa! Do you have to phrase it like that? You make it sound like I'm some kind of all-you-can-buffet."
"Sorry." She closed the refrigerator door, a fresh bottle of wine in her hand. Savannah frowned, wondering how smart it was to open a second bottle. The first one had disappeared too quickly, and she couldn't exactly blame it all on Tessa.
She peered into her wine glass, studying the mouthful of liquid at the bottom, then shrugged and tossed it back before sliding her glass across for a refill. She was in her own house. She wasn't driving anywhere. She didn't have any place she had to be.
And she was brooding.
Not brooding. Pouting.
If this didn't call for wine, she didn't know what did.
Tessa refilled both glasses then slid into the chair across from Savannah. "Have you at least talked to him?"
"Yes, of course. He lives next door. Of course, we've talked."
"I don't mean that casual neighbor stuff, like a wave or a nod across the yard. I mean like talked. Spent some time together. All that fun stuff."
"I know what you meant." Savannah took a small sip and swished the wine around her mouth. This one tasted different, not quite as sweet. She leaned forward and peered at the bottle, reading the label. No, it was the same kind, a crisp Riesling. So why did it taste different?
She shrugged and took another sip, longer this time.
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
Tessa blew the hair from her face with a heavy sigh then reached for Savannah's glass.
"Hey! Give that back."
"Not until you answer me. And maybe not even then."
"Just give me the wine back."
"You're going to have a headache in the morning."
"I don't care. I'm pouting." Savannah snagged her glass and curled both hands around it, just in case Tessa tried to take it from her again.
"No kidding. Are you going to answer the question?"
"What question?"
Tessa stared into her own glass, frowning. "I don't remember. Oh, wait. Yes, I do. Have you talked?"
"To who?"
"To Aaron. You know, the neighbor you've had the hots for? The one you had wild monkey sex with?"
"It wasn't monkey sex."
"Okay, whatever. It was sex. Have you talked to him since then?"
"I told you I did."
"No, you told me there hadn't been an encore performance. What I'm asking is, has he completely ignored you since then?"
"No, we've talked. Kind of. And he took me to lunch two weeks ago."
"But no fun stuff, huh?"
"Nope." Savannah's lips smacked together, turning the p-sound into two long syllables. There hadn't been any fun stuff at all. Yes, he'd taken her to lunch, but it had been a short one because he had to go meet with Brooke's teachers. And then she'd been out of town again for a few days and he'd been busy getting ready for some kind of camp and before she realized it, a few weeks had gone by and—
Savannah took a long swallow of wine, trying to force the depressing thoughts away. Yes, she was definitely pouting—which was silly. She hadn't been looking for a relationship, knew that probably wasn't even a possibility. He had a lot more responsibility than she did, especially with his daughters. And she wasn't looking for a family, ready-made or from scratch.
But she had really been looking forward to more sex. And she had thought that maybe he had been looking forward to the same thing.
She pushed out of the chair and grabbed the wine bottle.
"Where are you going?"
"Outside. It's too nice a night to be cooped up inside."
"But it's chilly!"
"It's not chilly, it's gorgeous. And I can get the firepit going. Come on, let's sit outside."
"Are you sure you don't want to just sit out there so you can watch for him?"
"Positive." Savannah adjusted her grip on the bottle and her glass, using her elbow to open the door. "You coming?"
"Yeah, in a minute. I'm going to raid your refrigerator for some food."
Savannah rolled her eyes but didn't say anything. Food would probably be a good thing. Yes, definitely a good thing. Some cheese and crackers. Maybe some of that hard salami, sliced nice and thick.
She ignored the slight rumbling in her stomach and moved out to the patio, leaving the door cracked open because her hands were full. The night air was cool, the heat of summer finally giving way to the crisp weather of autumn. In a few more weeks—maybe just a few more days—she'd need a jacket to sit outside, but right now, it was nearly perfect.
She sat her glass and the wine bottle on the edge of the propane fire pit then leaned down, turning it on and hitting the ignition switch. It finally caught on the third try, small flames leaping to life around the lava rocks. She adjusted the flame then took a seat in the oversized chair, sinking into the overstuffed cushions with a soft sigh. The swivel rocker would have been her first choice, but if she sat there, she'd have a view of Aaron's house and yard. The last thing she needed to do was stare at his house, searching for signs of life, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.
Sex. She snorted, the sound filled with derision. She could tell herself that sex was all she wanted but she'd had too much wine to lie to herself. No, she wasn't looking for a relationship—she was honest about that much. But she really liked Aaron and had thought…
Well, it didn't matter. They were neighbors. Maybe even friends…who just happened to have had sex. Once. It happened. She'd just have to snap out of this depressing funk she'd been in and deal with it. If it happened again, great. If not…
She reached for her wine, pushing thoughts of if not from her mind as she leaned her head back and stared up at the night sky. Stars winked overhead, glittering points of sharp light against a background of velvet blackness. The small community she lived in was on the outskirts of town and had, at one time, been a sprawling farm. Only the farmhouse remained, the property divided into twenty large lots.
Her house—and Aaron's—were at the very end of the small development, isolated from the others because of the small stream that ran nearby. That was why she had decided on this house when she bought it, although she had at first thought it odd that the builders had placed the two houses so close together. It hadn't been enough of a deterrent to stop her from buying it, though.
Would she sell it in a few years, move somewhere else? Maybe. The house was large enough to grow into, with three bedrooms and two-and-a-half baths and a den and a full finished basement. Yes, it was entirely too big for one person, she knew that. But the price had been ridiculously low and she had been thinking about the future, planning ahead in case she decided to entertain clients. That was still a possibility, but the longer she lived here, the less inclined she was to invite clients into her personal space.
"Wake up."
"I am awake."
"Then why are you sitting there with your eyes closed?"
"Just thinking." Savannah sighed and lifted her head, her vision swimming just the tiniest bit. She grabbed the chair arm and shifted, blinking until the spinning stop.
"Uh-oh. Here, eat this." Tessa pushed a plate into her hand. Cheese, crackers, salami, fresh cauliflower, and carrot sticks. Savannah stack
ed some salami and cheese on a cracker and popped it into her mouth, slowly chewing.
"Do you think this house is too big?"
"Yes. I told you that before you bought it. Why? Are you thinking of moving?"
"No. I was just curious." She took a sip of wine then popped more food into her mouth.
"Maybe you should switch to water."
"I'm fine."
"Just remember that when I call you bright and early tomorrow morning."
"Ha. Like you'd even be awake."
"Unfortunately, I will. I have to—" Tessa was interrupted by a loud squeal, followed by clear laughter. Savannah jumped and wine sloshed over the rim of the glass, coating her hand. She muttered and put the glass down, wiping her hand on her pants leg as she twisted in the seat.
She could make out several shadowy forms in the yard next door, their silhouettes slightly darker than the surrounding night. Aaron's house was completely dark and for a brief second, she wondered if the power had gone out. But that couldn't be, not when the light from her living room spilled out onto the patio.
"Miss Savannah! Turn your lights out. Hurry!"
"What in the world?" That had been Isabelle's voice, filled with excitement. She squinted and leaned forward, watching as the young girl jumped up and down before darting across the yard. A second silhouette, taller and broader, slowly followed.
Savannah swallowed back a small groan and looked at Tessa, silently asking for help. She didn't want to see Aaron, not now, not after she'd been drowning her sorrows in wine. No, she wasn't drunk, but she was definitely feeling the beginning effects of it.
But Tessa just sat there, trying to hide the stupid grin on her face behind her own glass of wine.
"Miss Savannah, turn out your lights and come see."
Aaron stopped behind his daughter, his hand on her shoulder. He stood just outside the fall of light from her living room, his broad shoulders and chest somehow looking bigger in the semi-darkness. "Isabelle, Miss Savannah's busy, you shouldn't bother her. And she doesn't need to turn out her lights, we can see just fine."
Savannah pulled her gaze from Aaron's face and looked at the little girl. "See what?"
"The space station is going to be flying over and we'll actually be able to see it. We don't need a telescope or anything." Isabelle turned and grabbed Aaron's hand, trying to pull him back into his yard. "Daddy, come on."
Playing It Safe Page 6
