Hard to Handle litb-2

by Jessica Lemmon

  Aiden rubbed his right side, where the tattoo he’d gotten to remember her sat etched into his skin, and shut his eyes against bad memories.

  “Hey.” Mike shoved his shoulder and Aiden opened his eyes. “Don’t do that.” He turned back to the grill. “Life turns out this way sometimes. It’s not your fault your momma was sick.”

  Was sick.

  Mike never said died, or passed on, or is in a better place. Not that Aiden expected him to be morose and pensive like Landon, or loud and angry like Evan. Losing Mom had reduced Aiden into a sobbing puddle of tears. He’d failed her, and no matter how many times he reminded himself that things happen for a reason, there was a certain percentage of the blame he wasn’t willing to unshoulder.

  But the way his father handled his mother’s passing…it didn’t seem natural. Aiden had never once seen the man cry—not when Mom took her last breath, not at the funeral, not after. Mike’s solution was to move on. When someone asked how he was, he’d offer a bit of fortune cookie wisdom or share a platitude about God’s timing. And while it could very well be true, it wasn’t easy to hear.

  Aiden was grateful to have Shane. Sure he was family, but he was also Aiden’s best friend, and Aiden looked up to him as much as he did his father. What Shane had gone through—his father blaming him for his mother’s death—was something Aiden knew his own father would never do. But it didn’t make it any easier to look him in the eye whenever Mike lamented the weeks he’d lost not being at his wife’s side.

  “I’m going to go to the cemetery tomorrow,” Aiden said.

  Mike grunted, sliding the burgers onto four waiting buns.

  Aiden accepted his plate and dragged up the courage to ask, “Would you like to go with me?”

  Predictably, Mike shook his head. “No, no. Nothing but bones in a cemetery.”

  He bet Dad hadn’t been to the cemetery since the funeral. Even then, he’d refused to take the chair in front of the casket, instead hovering at the rear of the crowd that had gathered. Mike had been the first to head for his car after the pastor finished speaking. Aiden stayed longer than he should have, watching as they lowered her body into the cold earth.

  “Thinking of a ride later. Interested?”

  Taking their bikes out was one way they’d bonded since Mom was gone. Aiden didn’t feel like riding tonight, but wouldn’t refuse his father’s request. Even if Dad’s idea of bonding was sharing an hour on the road without speaking.

  “Yeah. I’m in.”

  Mike smiled, the scar running the length of one cheek puckering slightly. “Good boy.”

  * * *

  At the entrance of Axle’s, Sadie tugged the hem of her shirt and pulled her shoulders back. She could do this. She had to do this.

  The contract Aiden signed two days ago may have been a smidge overzealous. She blamed three years of pining for Axle’s stores for her campaign-esque promises. She’d given them MMS’s lowest rates, slashing her commission in half in the process, and promised to personally oversee the transition at this, their largest, busiest store, from their former parts supplier to Midwest. And while she was throwing in the cart with the horses, why not toss in the driver and cobblestone road, too? That was her only explanation for offering to buy back any of MMS’s competitor’s parts that didn’t sell over the next month. Of course, she’d assumed she’d be dealing with Axle and that she could charm a few of those extras into oblivion.

  Sadie yawned. She’d spent half the night reading and rereading the contract for loopholes. No such luck. That Ericka in Legal was thorough. When Sadie woke this morning, however, she’d had a different attitude. Even if she could weasel her way out of the contract, or if she could convince Aiden to sign a new one, there was no way she would. The moment he found out he had something she wanted, he’d lord it over her, watching gleefully as she disassembled displays and hustled to sell out of her competitor’s parts. She wouldn’t have guessed Aiden was that kind of person until he attempted to trade a date for his signature on the contract. The thought made her frown.

  She caught her reflection frowning back at her and plastered a smile on her face better suited to a beauty pageant contestant. Sadie Howard didn’t roll over. Sadie Howard didn’t lose. And even if she did lose, she thought as she knocked on the glass door, she wasn’t about to look like a loser.

  She took in her surroundings while she waited to be let in. Axle’s sat on a highly manicured portion of downtown Osborn, cheery rows of potted flowers sitting on the brick-lined sidewalks, black light poles with waving city flags interspersed in between.

  She liked this town. She liked her job, oddly enough. It had surprised everyone when she’d snuggled in at a motorcycle parts supplier after attaining her marketing degree. Probably because her father had lost his life on a bike, and Sadie refused to ride. But Sadie was good at sales and, aside from Perry being a thorn in her side, really did enjoy her coworkers. Being around people who loved motorcycles made her feel closer to her dad. She didn’t remember much about him, but his love for the open road was no secret. If only he’d have loved helmets as much.

  She heard the lock disengage on the door and turned to find Aiden peering at her. He gave her a crooked smile, encouraging his dimple to appear. His shorn hair caught her by surprise again, so much shorter than she was used to seeing, though the front still fell in disarray over his forehead.

  So he’s cute. So what?

  Aiden pushed the door open and leaned with one arm drawn across the handle, forcing Sadie to brush by him when she entered. “Miss Howard.”

  “Mr. Downey,” she clipped. She strode into the store in a pair of patent leather pumps perfectly suited to the red scarf around her neck and matching short-sleeved blouse. The four-inch heels, she hoped, were doing wonders for her backside, which she’d squeezed into a pair of tight vinyl pants.

  Out of her peripheral vision, she watched Aiden’s eyes graze her outfit. It was immature, but she couldn’t help but feel smug.

  Yes, sir, get a look at what you’ve been missing.

  “Get lost on the way to a sock hop?”

  Or not.

  Sadie spun and pierced Aiden with a glare, her high ponytail nearly slapping her in the face with the movement. “I have work to do.”

  Aiden shrugged. “Whatever you say, Sandra Dee.”

  Ignoring the temptation to stick her tongue out at him, Sadie gathered her bag and walked to the other side of the store, where she’d be stocking Midwest’s complete line of motorcycle parts.

  Sadie pulled out a pen and her notebook and sketched a rudimentary map of the store’s layout. The space was long and narrow, one entire end lined with windows facing the parking lot. In the window sat a remarkable vintage bike she knew belonged to Axle. When Axle had told her the bike was his creation, she’d marveled that he’d built it with his own huge mitts. The man was far more dexterous than she would have guessed.

  Unfortunately, the bike wasn’t meeting its potential as top model. A shelf sat next to it, stocked with an uninspiring array of bumper stickers, T-shirts, and coffee mugs in random, busy colors while a mannequin in a “Biking is my Life” shirt stood guard. He’d lost an arm—which didn’t bode well for bike sales—and a creative profanity had been scrawled on his remaining limb.

  She added the display to her list, jotting down to bring in some Midwest Motorcycle Supplies signage and retire the mannequin. This particular Axle’s shop was unique from its sister shops dotted around Ohio. Many customers who came here not only loved motorcycles but took pride in doing their own repairs and upgrades.

  Rows of MMS parts lined in the window around Axle’s custom-built cherry Harley would have the locals drooling like one of Pavlov’s canines before they ever entered the store.

  She trekked over to the parts aisles, wincing as she took in the staggered, mismatched rows. Some parts were unboxed, others marked with Post-its (really?) instead of price tags, while several others weren’t marked at all.

  Since she�
��d promised to sell the old inventory or buy it back out of her pocket—not her brightest move—she’d have to get these parts sellable and gradually replace them with the Midwest brand. If she was stuck with them, she may be able to put them up for sale on eBay, but it wasn’t like she wanted to lug all of this stuff home with her.

  Scratching another note onto her pad, she sneaked a peek at Aiden at the front door. He signed for a box, making a joke to the delivery guy she couldn’t hear, his smile wide and bright, his posture relaxed.

  That’s what had towed her in all those months ago—forget his rare-colored eyes, sexy body, and easy smile. She’d been taken with the whole package. The whole Aiden. She hadn’t been able to resist.

  Allowing the door to swing shut, he knelt and lifted the box. Sadie couldn’t keep from appreciating the way the muscles in his arms shifted and straightened as he adjusted to the weight. And, evil vixen her brain was, a memory presented itself. One of being held in his arms while he caressed her lips with his, while he kneaded her thighs just below her miniskirt with one slightly roughened hand.

  “Need something?”

  Sadie started, realizing she was leaning against the endcap, head tilted, staring directly at Aiden. Straightening, she turned her attention to her notebook and pretended to write on it. “Just, uh, planning.”

  “Is that so?” He dropped the box and sauntered in her direction.

  “Yes.” Her voice was thin, her heartbeat rapidly increasing as Aiden approached with the agility of a lithe jungle cat.

  His attention flickered to her lips. “What are you planning?”

  She swallowed, unable to think of what to say while he was standing over her looking at her like…like…she didn’t even know. “Um…”

  “Well, if you need anything else…” Aiden pulled a stray strand of her hair away from her lipstick and smoothed it behind her ear, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand as he did. “Be sure to let me know.”

  His lips quirked and she studied the short, pale patch of hair beneath his lower lip, unable to remember why she wasn’t allowed to kiss this bronzed Adonis.

  But when he pulled his hand away, the words from their final phone call echoed in her ears. When he told her his mother was dying, and he was moving with her to the facility in Oregon. His family hadn’t known he was divorced, so it wasn’t like he could have introduced Sadie to them. And it wasn’t like she could have gone with him.

  She wondered if she would have. Maybe.

  No matter. Sadie hadn’t fit into his life then. She didn’t fit now. Aiden, no matter how attractive, no matter what her body insisted she do to him, had chosen to end things with her last year. And just because he regretted it now didn’t mean Sadie had waited around for his epiphany.

  She learned her lesson. Once from Trey. Once from Aiden. And twice was enough.

  Chapter 4

  Aiden literally counted his steps to the counter, wondering the entire way if Sadie was still watching him. He told himself to keep his distance today, but then he caught her checking him out and couldn’t resist seeing how close he could get before she swatted at him like an irritated cat.

  Closer than he thought.

  And he could swear she’d stared at his mouth as he stared at hers. Under the pretense of moving a hair stuck to her glossed lips, he’d brushed his hand along her cheek, but he’d wanted to do more. So much more. Lean in and kiss her like he had last year, if for no other reason than to remind himself what it felt like to be wanted.

  Aiden dug a box cutter out of the drawer next to the cash register, risking a look at the rear of the store. Sadie knelt on the floor, studying several sheets of paper lined up in a row. Those pants. Was she trying to give him a heart attack? The shiny black material barely qualified as material at all, hugging her curves like they’d been spray-painted on.

  Blowing out a breath, Aiden sliced through the tape. A large bag filled with colorful key chains was on top, directions and several numbered pieces for the five-foot-tall display beneath. Tossing aside directions—they’d do more harm than good anyway—Aiden began assembling the display.

  At first his mind was consumed by the task of getting all four sides to sit on the swiveling bottom portion. But once the skeleton was built, it was only a matter of snapping a hundred tiny pegs into the holes, and soon his thoughts wandered to the blonde at the back of the store.

  Sadie was gorgeous in red. When he caught sight of her outside this morning, she stole his breath. Her smooth blonde ponytail and tall heels were the stuff of men’s fantasies. And yet, the sexiest thing she wore was the delicate red scarf tied around her neck. There was something about the skin hidden beneath the shock of sheer fabric that tempted him to undo the knot and slide it aside, rasping her neck with his mouth.

  Hiding behind the display, he adjusted his too-tight jeans, pushing the thought out of his head. Turned on by a neckerchief. Quite a feat considering she should have a permit to wear those pants.

  One thing was for sure, Aiden was going to have to rein in his roving hormones if they’d be working together for the next month. And, according to the proposal and contract he’d signed, it’d be at least that long. Sadie would be organizing shelving, reducing prices of other parts stocked in the warehouse, and buying any she didn’t sell out of her pocket. He wasn’t the least bit surprised she’d taken on the initiative, personally. Sadie was no stranger to taking charge.

  Like that night at his house when she’d tugged the tie out of his hair and breathed into his ear. That was all it’d taken for him to dive into her mouth and lay her flat beneath him.

  Ah, hell. He readjusted himself again, this time hiding behind the cash register before Sadie caught him fantasizing like an eighth-grade boy who couldn’t control his hormones.

  Sadie stood on her tiptoes to measure a shelf overhead, the movement inching her shirt up and revealing a slice of pale, flat stomach. Maybe he could talk Axle into making her wear a uniform. Picturing her in a black Axle’s polo and jeans didn’t quell the lust bubbling in his stomach.

  He crammed another peg into the display. Somehow, he’d have to find a way to get things done with the petite object of his infatuation hanging around.

  Which begged the question, why was he infatuated? Sadie should be the last woman on earth stirring him up. On a good day, Sadie all but hated him. And he couldn’t blame her. He knew how it felt when Harmony had chosen another man over him. He’d done a version of the same thing to Sadie. Granted, he didn’t go back to Harmony, but he’d invited her back into his life. And despite his noble reasoning—to protect his mother from what she didn’t know—it was the wrong call.

  Though they’d only shared a few dates, he’d shared something real and precious with Sadie. He may have met her in a club, may have followed her home that night, but that was where the forgone conclusion ended. Nothing after the moment he’d entered her tiny apartment kitchen had been expected.

  Sadie had stood behind her refrigerator door, blocking her body from his, and offered him a drink. He took one look into her dark, troubled eyes and saw his own pain reflected there.

  “Who’d he leave you for?” he asked.

  She blinked, not expecting the question. “What?”

  “The guy who caused you to make a one-date-only rule for the rest of us. Who’d he leave you for?”

  That pointed question set the tone for the rest of the night. They spent the evening sitting on the floor of her apartment, backs against the sofa and adjacent chair, and shared every ugly thing from their pasts like they were one-upping each other.

  He’d seen her again after that, had brought her to his place and slept next to her without sleeping with her. To this day, Sadie marked the deepest, most emotional relationship of his life.

  Leaving her behind was one of the hardest—and dumbest—things he’d ever done.

  After Aiden went to Oregon, he thought of Sadie several times. How she would have handled his mother’s illness with grace. How
she would’ve stuck by him, been a strong support while he bobbed in a sea of uncertainty.

  Again he lamented keeping the truth from his mother. If only he’d told her sooner that Harmony had left him—that he’d been divorced and unemployed for months, that he’d met the woman of his dreams.

  Aiden was been trying to put his mother first, protect her from the stress of knowing how badly he’d screwed up his life. Worrying would cause stress. Stress would make her battle more difficult. And Aiden had been trying to give her the best chance possible to beat the disease determined to rob her of her life.

  In the end it hadn’t mattered. Harmony vanished into the ether. Mom lost the battle. And Aiden burned the bridge he and Sadie used to stand upon and view their future.

  He’d begun to see his self-sacrifices weren’t actually helping the people he cared about, but were, without a doubt, crippling him. There was a lesson in there. About doing what was best for him for a change. Maybe the right thing for him was the right path all along. Who the hell knew?

  He crammed a peg into the hole. It snapped in half. “Shit.” He looked up and noticed Sadie standing on the other side of the counter. “Sorry.”

  She waved him off. “Don’t waste your manners on me.”

  He stood, tossing the broken plastic into the trash can. “I’ve been trying not to swear,” he said, not sure why he was admitting part of his journey toward self-improvement.

  “I’ve been dieting,” Sadie said, picking up on the angle of his thoughts. She got him. She always had.

  Aiden took in her lush curves, unable to see a single area in need of improvement. Every dip and bend was just as it should be. He started to say something to that effect but decided against it. “Why are you dieting?”

  Sadie frowned back at him. “Because.”

  “How well do you know Axle?” Aiden asked, shifting to the other subject loitering in his brain.

  Sadie shrugged, folding her arms on the countertop between them. “I don’t know. Why?”