Killmore

by Martha Sweeney

  “Then, what happened? Did he kiss you?” she searches.

  “We waited out the rain for a few minutes in the truck and then realized it was pointless. So, he drove me home and said goodnight,” I state.

  “Did…he…kiss…you?” she repeats.

  “On the cheek,” I share.

  “Are you shitting me?”

  “No,” I reply.

  “What! What the hell was that?” she says in shock.

  “He was probably scared to get his ass beat if he tried too much,” I laugh.

  “Seriously?” she says. “I would have thought he would have had more balls than that. Did you want him to kiss you?”

  “What? Oh, my God. You’re crazy,” I snap.

  “Would you go on another date with him if he asked?” she investigates.

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” I return after a few seconds, knowing that I need to lead people on about our fake relationship.

  “You paused,” Trudy accuses. “That means you do.”

  “I didn’t pause,” I counter.

  “Yes, you did. You paused before answering the question,” she states.

  “Whatever,” I huff.

  Suddenly, the house system is indicating that someone is outside. I check the monitor on the iPad and notice a white van in the driveway. Trudy is talking in my ear as I fixate on the person who exits the vehicle and opens the sliding door, grabbing something large.

  “Earth to Laurie?” Trudy’s voice calls.

  “Huh? What?”

  “What’s going on? Are you okay?” she asks with concern.

  “Yeah,” I say, sounding a little breathy. “There’s someone here.”

  “What do you mean there’s someone there? Is it Aiden?” she inquires.

  “I don’t think so. Hold on,” I instruct, shifting the phone between my shoulder and ear, walking toward the front door with the iPad in hand. The doorbell rings when I’m a few feet away. My eyes bounce between the iPad and looking out the peephole a few times. “Hold on, Trudy.” I place the phone down on the table with the iPad.

  “Hello,” Mrs. Parker greets. “I have a delivery for you, sweetheart.”

  “What?” I gasp taking the large pot of lavender from her.

  “I didn’t order….”

  “You didn’t, but a handsome young man did. If I’m not mistaken, word around town is that he’s your ex-husband,” she answers.

  “Ex-boyfriend,”I correct. “We were never married.”

  “That explains a lot about you, sweetie,” she returns. “He’s the one who broke your heart, huh?”

  I stare at her in shock, dumbfounded by what’s happening and that the town’s people are talking about me.

  “He seems so nice. What happened between you two, if you don’t mind me asking?” she pries.

  “He…uhh…he called things off. He…uhh…was military,” I say, fumbling with my words.

  “Aww,” she sighs. “So, I take it he broke things off so you wouldn’t get the call. That’s a hard decision for any man to make. I hope you give him another chance. He did serve and only God knows what those boys deal with when they’re sent overseas.”

  “Umm….”

  “Anyhoo, have a great day sweetie. Don’t be shy and stop by anytime,” she continues as she heads to her van.

  “Oh, umm…what about….”

  “He took care of the tip too, sweetie,” she answers, cutting me off. “Don’t worry about it. Have a lovely day. And, give the boy a chance, will yah?”

  I stand in the foyer with my door practically wide open, holding the lavender in my arms despite the fact that it’s starting to get a little heavy. My mind races through everything that just transpired.

  Mable whimpers and my attention is drawn to the table. “Shit! Trudy. Sorry,” I apologize after shifting the plant into one arm, picking the phone up with the other and using my foot to close the door. I wedge the phone between my ear and shoulder again and then lock the door and grab the iPad.

  “What the hell was all of that?” she searches. “I heard a few words on occasion, but not enough to make it out.”

  “It was nothing,” I lie.

  “Laurie Breitsprecher, don’t you lie to me,” Trudy scolds.

  I let out a heavy sigh. “Mrs. Parker was just making a delivery.”

  “Mrs. Parker? As in Parker Florists?” Trudy inquires.

  “Yep.”

  “Did Codie send you another bouquet again?”

  “No,” I sigh, grateful that he didn’t.

  “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! They’re from Aiden? Aiden sent you flowers? What did he send you?” Trudy asks with her voice increasing at least two octaves. She continues talking, but it’s too hard to decipher her words.

  “Trudy. Trudy. Trudy!” I call.

  “What?”

  “He sent a large pot of lavender,” I inform.

  “Lavender?” Trudy repeats.

  “Yep,” I confirm.

  “Hmm,” she says. “I wonder why lavender.”

  “Don’t know,” I state.

  “Do they have significant meaning?” she checks.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” I reply.

  “Do you have any at the house?”

  “Actually, no,” I answer. “Which is odd. They’d grow great and I’d get a lot of use out of them.”

  “Hmm,” Trudy hums. “Well, I should let you go. You need to call him and thank him for the flowers.”

  “What? Why?” I whine.

  “Laurie, the man bought you dinner, was a perfect gentleman last night, not even trying to kiss you other than on the cheek, and then sends a bouquet of non-traditional flowers, for Spirits’ sake. The man clearly loves you and has put thought into what he’s doing,” she states, practically defending his actions.

  “You’re such a bitch,” I return. “You completely set me up, didn’t you?”

  “What?!”

  “You did,” I press. “He convinced you to help him, didn’t he?”

  “You are my friend,” Trudy announces. “I only would do things that I would, as your friend, think that would make you happy.”

  “I hate you,” I say coolly.

  “You sounded way too calm when you said that,” she presents.

  “Did I?” I return sarcastically.

  “I still love you when you’re mad at me. You’ll thank me for it one day…probably not until the two of you are married and have the first kid,” Trudy describes.

  “No,” I object.

  “Call the man,” she directs.

  “Fine,” I huff.

  “Love you. Bye.”

  I don’t reply and hang up the phone. My eyes read over the card again:

  If flowers could kiss, I’d send you millions to make up for every day we were apart.

  I’ve never stopped loving you.

  xoxo

  Aiden

  It takes me about five minutes of standing in my kitchen with the flowers on the countertop to do anything other than just stare at the lavender in surprise. The flowers smell divine and my brain starts plotting the different things I could use them for. Without thinking, I head into the green house and de-pot them, taking them apart by the roots to make three smaller bunches. The first bunch I plant in a longer wooden planter in the back patio area, giving them plenty of room to grow and spread out. The second, I keep in the greenhouse and the third I transfer to a smaller pot and take it back inside the house. Two seconds later, I head back to the green house and repot the one for the house into two containers rather than one, placing the first in the kitchen and the second up in my bedroom on the dresser that is to the left of the large skylight window that drapes down the angle of the roof and curves into a regular window that ends at the floor which overlooks the lake.

  The next day, I get a call from Aiden, wanting to talk more about the next steps of our arrangement. He suggests coming to my house, which I vehemently object to several times at first. I’m not comfor
table about anyone I don’t know entering my house. I’m not even comfortable letting people who I do know in. Codie’s a prime example of that.

  As he continues to try to convince me to allow him to just pop over, as if we’ve had more than one date and everyone know’s that we’re officially dating, I get into the truck with the dogs and head over to his place. I know that he’ll need access to my place to spy on Quintin, but I’m just not ready for any of that yet. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.

  “Hey, Paul,” I greet as I pull into their driveway, lowering my window.

  “Paul? Paul who?” Aiden checks through the headset that is lodged in my ear.

  “She’s here,” Paul yells as I park the truck. The dogs and I get out.

  “What are you doing here?” Aiden asks, rushing to meet me before I get the truck door closed.

  “You wanted to talk, so here I am,” I announce.

  “I told you that we need to….” Aiden huffs. “Fuck. Never mind.” He moves close, pausing as if to see if his proximity is over stepping bounds.

  My eyes narrow in defense, but then I realize that he can’t see them behind my sunglasses.

  “How’re you doing?” Paul asks, pulling some of the tension away from Aiden and me.

  “Good,” I return.

  Aiden doesn’t move other than to look over his shoulder to Paul and then back to me. “Hey,” he greets in a low, gruff tone.

  “I’ll see you both inside,” Paul mentions as he heads back up the steps.

  There’s a natural, relaxed feel I get from Paul. Even though he’s a Fed, there’s something about him, his demeanor, that seems very genuine and almost father like. I need to keep myself in check as I find out if this is just a part of his overall personality or if he’s just doing a really good job acting like a sweet older man without any dark secrets.

  “You’re standing a little close,” I inform Aiden.

  “Am I?” he asks, feigning awareness.

  “Yes,” I verify. “Back off.”

  “No,” Aiden challenges confidently. “Did you get my gift?”

  “The flowers?” I ask.

  “You did get them,” he says proudly.

  “Yes,” I reply.

  “I noticed you didn’t have any,” he comments.

  “How would you know that?” I ask.

  “The first day Paul and I met you, remember?” Aiden reminds. “You were showing us around the house. We got to see the back patio and part of the greenhouse.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I return trying to tease, but it sounds a little mean.

  “Yeah,” he huffs nervously.

  “How did you know I didn’t have lavender?”

  “I didn’t smell them,” Aiden confirms, running a few of his fingers down my arm. “Plus, we’re trained to take in, process, and memorize a lot of information quickly.”

  My head lowers, watching his slow, cautious caresses. “Why lavender?”

  I should be pushing him away, getting him out of my personal space, but for some strange reason I’m not. His manly musk is becoming a little distracting. His blue eyes don’t make it any easier either. My body is jacked, needing release from not getting any action for almost a month now.

  “I wanted to give you something different than the traditional bouquet,” Aiden admits. “Plus, they reminded me of you.”

  “How so?”

  Aiden chuckles. “I knew you reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place who until I saw a little girl wearing a shirt the day before. That pixie…you know the one from the Peter Pan story?”

  “You mean fairy?” I check. “As in Tinkerbell?”

  “The one with the blonde hair who’s bangs go across her face like yours?” His fingers push back some strands of hair away from my face. “Yeah,” he answers. “But, she was a pixie, wasn’t she?”

  I giggle. “She was a fairy who used pixie dust.”

  “Huh,” Aiden sighs. “Well, at least I was right. Plus, you two have similar eyes.” His index finger tugs my glasses down just enough for our eyes to meet.

  “I hate to break it to you, but Tinkerbell was never associated with lavender,” I state.

  “Lavender is different. Tinkerbell is different. You’re different,” he comments. “I like different.”

  “Like as in…?” I peruse.

  Aiden’s smile returns and tucks to the right.

  “A cartoon character turns you on?” I tease, hoping to deflect where this conversation is going.

  “You turn me on,” he states in a low voice, taking a half step closer.

  I watch his eyes, not sure if this is the real Aiden or the fake Aiden standing before me. Perhaps, there’s a little bit of both.

  “What did you want to talk about today?” I say, redirecting the uncomfortableness that stirs inside me.

  “Nothing in particular,” Aiden returns. “I figured this would be a good day for you to get to know Paul and me more.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” he replies nervously. “Figured we could have a few beers, have some lunch and see what happens from there.”

  “See what happens from where?” I check.

  “Us,” Aiden admits. “The next steps.”

  I nod, but don’t say anything, not wanting my voice to possibly crack. I side step to the left after he presses his body closer to mine where our chests meet. A soft chuckle from Aiden sends shivers down my spine, causing me to stop momentarily.

  He follows me, staying close where he keeps me within reach. My attention is drawn to a few cars driving by on the road, nervous for people to see me with him despite knowing this has to happen.

  “Hey,” he calls sweetly, tugging the the edge of my shirt along my hip.

  I turn to face him and find myself drawn to him — those eye sand that smile. “Hey.” I look down at his hand as he guides me toward him.

  He carefully takes my hand, lacing his fingers between mine. I tug away, but he refuses to let me go. Stepping backward, Aiden leads me toward the steps and then turns to climb them once he’s only a few feet away. I’m able to break our physical connection before Paul sees us.

  A few minutes later, Paul, Aiden and I are in the kitchen having lunch while the dogs rest at my feet. The guys have a beer, but I refrain since I need to keep my head in tact for several reasons, including figuring out how I can use them for my own needs.

  As time passes, we play some card games, mostly poker, as music plays low in the background from the radio. I know how to play the game, but I was never really big on the whole betting side of it. I found myself playing with some of Antonio’s henchmen to help pass the time on occasion while also learning how to read people and catch them when they’re lying. Aiden and Paul crack jokes at each other on occasion when they aren’t trying to get me to talk and from their interaction, I’d surmise that they’ve known each other for a while. Their comments and statements don’t sound forced and actually sound genuine.

  Around four in the evening, Paul excuses himself and heads to the range, leaving Aiden and me alone with the dogs. We’re currently in the kitchen, both standing as we chat, kind of, after saying goodbye to Paul. Aiden’s resting his back against the fridge as I have myself propped up agains one of the counters. With a look in his eye, Aiden pushes off from where he is and nonchalantly struts toward me.

  I can’t help but watch the muscles his arms and shoulders flex as he walks, which distract me long enough for him stop just a few inches away. His right hand reaches up and inches my glasses down a little, so he can see my eyes. Then, he suddenly removes them and gently places them on the counter to my right.

  “We need to start moving forward,” he states in a deep, low tone.

  I raise an eyebrow in question.

  “The fake Aiden and Laurie need to go on another date…actually, more than one,” he continues. “And, everyone who knows you needs to see us together…more than just on a date.”

  “What if I object?” I pose. />
  A sexy smirk dances across his lips and his finger tips graze the skin of my arms. “You won’t.”

  “Someone’s cocky,” I goad.

  “They…we…need to be seen doing certain things too,” he adds.

  “What things?” I ask, despite knowing the answer.

  “I’d rather show you then tell you,” he admits, leaning closer.

  “Why?” I inquire, wanting to delay the inevitable.

  “Because,” he begins, brushing a few strands of my hair off of my face. “We need to be comfortable enough doing these things.” His hand lowers, dragging lightly along my arm and his fingers intertwine with the bottom of my shirt.

  I clear my throat, feeling more and more uncomfortable with what’s happening.

  Right as I think he’s going to kiss me, Aiden lifts his mouth and kisses my forehead. Then, he slowly wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into him.

  My heart seizes in my chest for several moments as my brain and body contend with each other over the fact that we’re touching as intimately as we are. It takes all the willpower I have to prevent my fight or flight responses from engaging. My palms rest carefully on his arms as his tighten slightly around me.

  What feels like a minute later, Aiden loosens his grip and my head lifts, searching for his eyes. The next thing I know, my lips are hungry for more as he peels his mouth away from mine after a soft, gentle kiss. My mouth parts for a breath and his tongue slowly glides across the rim of my bottom lip. When his tongue reaches in, searching for mine, I oddly find my body complying with the need to return the gesture. He presses his body closer and I can feel his erection. He can’t be faking his arousal, his desire.

  The sound of my phone ringing pulls me from the embrace and I immediately push him away, giving myself some room to compose myself as I walk the few steps over to where my purse sits and take out my phone. “Hey,” I greet.

  “Hey,” Trudy replies. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” I retort. “What’s up?”

  “We’ve got an issue,” she declares.

  “What?” I return.

  Aiden moves closer, but stays about a foot away.

  “There was a mini fire in the kitchen,” Trudy states calmly.

  “What kind of mini fire?” I inspect.