“Well, I am that too,” he laughs.
“Now, who’s the light weight?” I goad. “I’m glad we’re not driving right now.”
“I’m good,” he states. “I’m just more comfortable around you.”
“Is that it?” I giggle.
Aiden suddenly reaches over and places his hand on top of mine.
My heart pounds against my chest, uncomfortable with us touching, so I yank my hand away and place it on my lap.
“What do you want to do…or talk about to pass the time?” he asks, suddenly sounding more composed.
“So, why did you go into the military?” I ask, evading his forwardness.
“True Aiden or fake Aiden?”
“True Aiden,” I say.
“I wanted to make a difference…I still do,” he presents.
“Is that why you took the job with the Feds?”
“Yes,” he verifies.
I nod, but don't say anything.
“Do you hate me because I’m one of them?” he suddenly asks.
“What?” I return nervously.
“I know this isn't easy for you,” he says. “Feeling like you’re being used again. I get it. But, there are some of us honestly trying to fix things from the inside.”
“There might be too many things to try and fix,” I mention.
“One can hope, can’t they?”
“I guess,” I remark.
Aiden’s fingers graze the side of my arm over my tattoo. “Do you have any others?”
“What?” I ask.
“Tats,” he says.
“Maybe,” I reply with a smirk. “You?”
“Maybe,” Aiden returns, imitating me. “Do you really want to know?”
“No,” I denounce sharply, knowing that agents aren’t allowed to have any identifying marks on them.
“You’ll need to get me naked to find out,” he answers with a hint of desire laced in his words.
The sudden sound of lightening cracking through the sky startles us both, causing us to jump a little. The rain falls harder against the truck as if it’s trying to break through.
“Maybe I should get you home,” he offers. “Who knows how long this will take.”
“Sure,” I say.
Despite the rain, Aiden maneuvers the truck carefully through the empty streets, driving only about five miles an hour. About forty minutes later, we arrive and the rain has only lessened a little bit.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asks.
“What?” I check.
“Nothing,” he says, putting the vehicle into park.
“Do you mean about the little bit of rain this is?” I tease.
“This isn't a little,” he states.
“Maybe for those of you from California it is, but for us. This is normal,” I inform.
“Technically, I’m not from California,” Aiden reminds.
“Or, wherever your'e from,” I quip. “I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine.”
Aiden looks hesitantly at me and then suddenly pushes his door open and runs around the truck to my side. He’s practically drench by the time I get the door open and he’s standing right next to me. He helps me to the porch and I punch in the passcode and place my hand on the pad for the house to register my print. Even with the twenty-foot porch, we’re still getting hit with rain. I get the door open and I signal for the dogs to enter.
I take a step in and feel Aiden’s warm body connect with my back. “What are you doing?”
“I want to say goodnight, but I don't want to continue to get wet,” he presents.
“Funny,” I muse.
“What's that?”
“Most men don’t mind getting wet when their with a woman,” I say.
Shit. Did I just say that?
Aiden pushes the door closed. “Funny.”
I offer a fake smile.
“Thank you,” he says.
“For what?”
“For a great night,” he states.
“Is this the real Aiden or the fake Aiden talking?” I check.
He steps closer to me. “Both.” His hands take a hold of my hips and gently tug me closer.
“What are you doing?”
He doesn’t say anything but offers a sexy grin.
“I….”
“Shh,” he directs, pulling me closer.
“Umm….”
“Shh,” he repeats, wrapping his arms around my body.
I don't move, nervous and confused by what’s happening.
He steps back, but his right hand captures my left and he pulls me softly, coaxing me to step into him again. Aiden’s hand that was on my back shifts and reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He does something with it and all of a sudden, music starts playing.
“What are you…?”
“Shh,” he soothes. “Just dance with me.”
“But….”
“Just one dance and then we’ll say goodnight,” he offers.
Before I get the chance to object, Aiden has my right hand in his and presses it against his chest while the other holds my hip as he starts to guide our bodies to the music. “Just one song,” he requests in my ear.
“Which Aiden is this?” I check.
“Does it matter?” he searches.
I don’t answer.
The rain falling in the background adds a sultry feel the to music as we rock. Both of us are drenched and dripping water all over my floor. The heat from our bodies almost makes it look like the moisture on our skin and clothes are steaming in the shadows.
Emotions and thoughts swirl inside me, blurring the lines of reality. This is so wrong on so many levels. He’s one of them. He’s one of the enemies. I can’t trust him. Use him to get what you want. Do you even know what you want?
At some point, Aiden holds me closer and I can feel his warm breath against my ear. “Thank you,” he says sweetly. His lips brush my cheek before he pulls back further. We stand, swaying to the next song as we stare into each other’s eyes.
“We should get together tomorrow,” he announces.
“Okay,” I mumble.
“I had a great time tonight,” he shares. “I look forward to the next one.”
“What makes you think there’ll be a next one,” I return, needing to gain back some control.
“I have a hunch,” he muses. Aiden leans in and kisses my cheek. His lips linger as he says, “Goodnight, sexy.”
At some point, I find myself standing in my foyer alone. The door is closed and no one is in the house but the dogs and me. I look down at them as they rest on the floor and they just stare back up at me. The web of lies that need to be constructed to justify any of this, all of this, is going to be extensive.
Twenty Four - Aiden
Last night I had to beat off twice when I got home from the date with Laurie. Once in the shower and the other when I was in bed, unable to sleep because I kept picturing Laurie naked after seeing her in her practically see-though, soaked top when it got wet from the rain. Holy fuck, do her tits look amazing. They’d look amazing bouncing under me while I fuck her. No, I wouldn't fuck her — at least not right away. She’d probably like it if I did. I’d make her feel like a goddamn queen if I got the chance to please her.
My right hand slides under my shorts and I start touching myself to the memory of her body against mine and how I want to do it again, this time without any layers between us. Pumping up and down, I imagine her soft, plump lips wrapped around my cock.
“Hey, Aiden,” Paul shouts, banging on my bedroom door.
“Fuck,” I groan. “What do you want?”
“We going for our run or what?” he replies.
“Just give me a minute,” I yell.
Five minutes later, I’m exiting my room, shrugging my shirt on and grabbing my shoes.
“Looks like someone needed to take the edge off this morning,” Paul goads.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Well,
I know you didn't get any last night,” Paul chuckles.
“That's not any of your business,” I challenge. “Besides, last night was work.”
“You’ve never been late for our morning workouts,” Paul reminds. “So, either she's still in there or you had to jack off to temper your still slightly excited second brain.” Paul’s eyes drift down to my groin and back up.
“Fuck off,” I snap.
“Definitely didn’t get laid,” he remarks, taking a sip of his coffee.
I don't reply, hoping that he’ll stop pestering me.
“It's okay, man,” Paul continues. “I get it. She’s hot…and, the task at hand isn’t easy with a hot woman involved. They’ll fuck with your head in so many ways.”
“She's not fucking with my head,” I object.
“That one,” Paul says point to my waist. “That one she's already fucked with, and I don’t mean in the literal sense. She might not have gotten into here yet.” He taps the side of his head. “But, she will. They all do.”
“Like you know?” I return with a little attitude.
“One word…” Paul reveals. “Tahiti.”
I don't comment, shocked by his admittance.
“She still fucks with my head,” Paul shares. “Makes me question everyday if I was stupid to leave her and not stay. We were happy. I was happy.”
“You're not happy now?” I ask.
“I am,” Paul answers. “But, not as happy as I was when I was with her. Sometimes, you don't realize it right away. It can even take years.”
I sit next to him and chug some water.
“When all you can do is listen to this,” Paul says, pointing to his heart. “If it's not too late, I strongly recommend that you listen to it. Fuck the agency. Fuck what you think. Be happy. You only get one chance for that in life…the real thing, that is.”
Paul and I don’t say anything else and five minutes later we’re out jogging around town. When we reach the street to go back to the house, I head in a different direction. I turn left and head over to a shop in town for an errand. Then, I take a jog to Laurie’s house, hoping to catch her.
I stretch on her front porch waiting for her to open the door. Just as I’m about to jog off, I hear the door open.
“What do you want?” she calls.
“I just wanted to say hi,” I return with a smile, heading back onto the porch.
“That's it?”
“Yep,” I answer, wanting to play it cool.
“You jogged all this way just to say hi?” she says surprised.
“Yeah,” I confirm.
“You’re crazy,” she states. The right corner of her mouth perks up a little, giving me some indication that she's impressed since she’s hiding behind her glasses.
“Crazy for you,” I reply with a smile, hoping to charm her.
“Are you drunk?” she inspects.
“No,” I laugh. “Just a guy in love.”
“Goodbye, Aiden,” she returns, closing the door.
“Bye,” I answer.
The door pauses for a brief second and then it locks into place.
On my way back, I purposefully stop and pretend to tie my shoe just before I make it to the house where Quintin is staying, wondering if I’ll be able to see or hear anything; unfortunately, I don’t.
After lunch, Paul and I go over all the intel we have on Quintin and I mention how the house was quiet when I went by it and that there’s no indication on whether or not if Quintin is intending on staying past the summer season. There’s little movement outside the house since we arrived in town and that’s unusual for Quintin and his crew.
“What the hell were you doing…” Pauls voice halted. “You went to see her?” His serious face shifted into one of amusement.
“I need to keep up with appearance of trying to win her back,” I state.
“I know," Paul laughs.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he returns.
“What?”
“It’s just funny because there’s no one out there to see you stopping by her place,” Paul adds. “She's got four neighbors who are all a half mile away.”
“People saw me head into a place in town and then continue jogging toward her side of the lake. If I do it enough times, people will speculate,” I explain.
“What did you get?” Paul asks.
“What are you talking about?”
“You said you stopped in town. What did you get?” he presses.
“Nothing,” I lie.
Paul lifts a brow. “You came back with nothing.”
“So?” I challenge.
“Did you stop to pee or something?” he checks.
“No,” I snap.
"Then, what did you get?” he pushes.
“Nothing,” I repeat.
Paul's smile widens, but he doesn't say anything.
“What?" I ask.
“Nothing,” Paul returns, still smiling.
“What?” I push.
“How soon do you think you can get into her place to set up some of the preliminary stuff?” Paul says, redirecting our conversation.
“Soon, I think,” I answer.
“We need to get some kind of a feed going," he reminds.
“I know,” I say.
“Keep up with the charm. Do whatever is necessary to get in to her house. Let me know if I’ve got to do anything to help speed up the process,” Paul states.
“I’m on it,” I confirm.
Paul laughs. “I know.”
Ignoring his jab, I ask, “Did we get anything regarding Laurie’s case?”
“No,” Paul huffs. “Which doesn't make sense.”
"Do you think there's a connection somehow?” I ask.
“I’m starting too,” Paul admits. “That, and the agency is clearly not sure who to trust…with Quintin’s and perhaps her’s. We'll need to keep our eyes and ears open and also keep an eye on Becky. We’ll want to stay in touch with her. If anything happens to Becky, then there’s a leak.”
“Laurie mentioned that Becky only comes once or twice a year to visit her," I share.
“Has she given anything else to you?” Paul searches.
“Nothing new that I haven't already told you,” I share.
“Do you think she's met Quintin, but hasn't mentioned it?” Paul inquires.
“Honestly, no,” I answer. “I really do think she's a recluse. Her friend Trudy didn’t even know anything about her past before coming here and they’ve known each other pretty much since Laurie arrived.”
“She’ll slip up soon,” Paul states. “Keep notes and we’ll see if anything correlates.”
“You think that her past is tied to Quintin somehow?” I ask speculatively.
“It's possible,” Paul replies. “Especially, since the agency won't give us anything.”
“Do you think she knows something?" I check.
“Maybe,” Paul admits. "But, if she does, she probably doesn't know it. The agency wouldn't risk having her here and helping if she really knows anything.”
I nod as I try to connect any possible pieces.
“Don't think too much about it,” Paul directs. "I could be wrong.”
“When have either of our hunches ever been wrong?” I remind.
“I know,” Paul huffs. “Let's hope we're not right this time.”
Twenty Five - Laurie
“So?” Trudy asks as soon as I answer the phone.
“So, what?” I return.
“Girl, don’t play dumb with me. How the hell did the date go last night? Did he stay the night or did you go back to his place?” Trudy states.
“Uh…no,” I return.
“Why not? He’s hot,” Trudy pries.
“I’m not talking about this with you,” I say.
“Why not?”
“Because, you’re already having too much fun with this whole thing,” I state.
“If I had the chance to have a love like I did with Mike again,
I wouldn’t hesitate to have it,” Trudy comments.
I sigh, but don’t say anything.
“So, how was the date?” she presses.
“It was…good," I sigh.
“Good?” she repeats.
“Yeah…good.”
“Well, you definitely didn't get laid,” she huffs.
“Where the hell are you?" I check.
“I’m in the office with the door closed. Don't worry, no one can here me,” she assures. “Details. I want details.”
“Why?” I reply, avoiding the topic.
"Because, since I'm not getting any action other than from a battery operated boyfriend, I’m living through you and your odd sexual encounters,” Trudy shares.
"That's sick,” I laugh. “Are you a closet bisexual?”
“No, but I'm seriously considering it though with the lack of action I'm getting," she giggles. "I swear there's a big target on my back that says don’t date a widow as if it's bad luck on the next guy or something.”
“Well, there aren’t that many men in our age bracket who live in town except some of the tourists," I remind. “Maybe you should move back to the reserve.”
“Not funny," Trudy scolds. “And, stop trying to change the subject.”
“Who? Me?" I feign at her accusation.
“Where did he take you? What did you do?” she investigates.
“He took me to Charlie’s,” I present.
“Wow! He must have done his homework to take you there,” Trudy returns. “Every woman in town hopes to be taken there for special occasions.”
Charlie’s is a restaurant that is owned and operated by the Willow River Country Club where all the high profile clients, and others with money, spend a lot of their time when visiting. The club owns the golf course, Charlie’s Restaurant, and half of the marina aside from a few other small shops. It was founded by the Welles family who originally established the town generations ago. None of the family members live in town, but they do come in once or twice a year depending on which clients will be staying at their very private and very exclusive resort. Charlie’s serves high quality foods like my cafe, but at a much higher cost that most people can’t afford on a daily basis when visiting the town, except those with an exorbitant amount of money.
“Yeah,” I sigh.
“So, what else?”
“We went for a walk along the boards and ended up having a drink or two at Boulder until it started to rain,” I continue.
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