She’d thought about waking him and dragging him back to her bed a hundred times last night. Just for sleeping. Just so she could snuggle against him. But last night had been volatile enough without her tossing gasoline onto an already steadily burning fire.
And she didn’t want to look any needier (if that was possible). The last blow to her stinging ego would be Aiden rejecting her again. She could hear it now:
Aiden sucked in a breath and rolled over, his hand sliding over his flat stomach, then down to the impressive bulge hiding beneath the confines of his underwear. He adjusted himself and Sadie stared, mouth open, hand clutching her throat. She bet that part of him was as glorious as the rest of him. Oh, how she’d like to see it. Just once. She licked her lips and his hand moved away, his slightly amused voice slicing into the air.
“You keep looking at me like that and you may get more for breakfast than you bargained for.”
Sadie’s face went hot. She stood and wrapped her robe tighter, her movements jerky, and beelined for the sanctuary of the kitchen. “Want some coffee?”
Aiden caught one of the ties on her robe and pulled her onto his lap, where the part she’d been ogling earlier pressed against her hip. Keeping his hand fisted in the slippery material covering her, he watched her for a few agonizing seconds before his lips, rimmed in a sheen of sexy stubble, formed the words, “I’d love some coffee.”
He released her and Sadie scuttled away like a frightened crab.
She popped the individual plastic coffee container into the single-serve maker and pressed a button, lamenting not having extra steps to busy her hands. The task of pulling out a filter, counting scoops of coffee, and measuring out water would have helped distract her from the fact there was a sexy, aroused man in the other room.
As it was, she could think of nothing but.
Were mornings after always this awkward? Seemed unfair to have an awkward morning after if she didn’t get an exhilarating night before. How did anyone endure this unnerving, skin-vibrating tension?
Though, things might get weird after…when she had to shower and get ready for work. When he gathered his clothes and tried to make forced conversation as he backed toward the door.
Maybe it was for the best they hadn’t had sex. Made love.
Whichever.
The coffeemaker finished its sputtering and she stared into the dark brew for a few seconds, recalling the morning she and Aiden had shared last summer.
“I take it black.”
She turned to find Aiden standing in her kitchen, feet and chest bare, jeans riding low on his hips. And she was staring. Again. “I remember.”
She slid the mug across the breakfast bar. He brushed his hand against hers as he took it. “Thanks.”
Sadie’s fingers tingled as she made herself a mug. She stared at the brewer rather than allow her eyes to parade around Aiden’s incredibly beautiful bare chest. She didn’t know how much longer she would last. This man was distracting to the nth degree. “You work today?” he asked.
“Yes. Yes I do.” She emptied approximately a gallon of creamer into her mug. “You?”
“Yeah.”
She blew on her coffee, took a sip, drummed her fingernails on the porcelain. Five seconds passed, then five more, circling them like sharks around an injured harp seal.
Aiden broke the tense silence. “Coming into Axle’s?”
Ah, relief. A topic. “For a little while. I want to finish the display.”
“Dad is dropping off my nephew around lunchtime. Care to join us at the park for a little while?”
“Park?”
“Yeah. Cordoned outdoor area with trees, grass, and the occasional jungle gym.”
“Smart aleck.”
Aiden smiled the sexiest smile she’d ever seen. And she bought
A park. A park sounded harmless. Especially with a munchkin chaperoning them. She didn’t have plans for lunch, other than eating a container of Yoplait and wrestling her hormones into submission.
“Sure, why not.” She was trying to act casual, but as she lifted her mug and peered at him over the rim, she reconsidered her safety.
Five-year-old or not, with Aiden, a park was never just a park.
Chapter 11
Aiden’s rambunctious nephew Lionel, Lyon for short—how cute was that?—tackled Aiden to the ground and roared in triumph. The kid had energy like he’d eaten a bag of Pixy Stix for lunch rather than the half a turkey sandwich and apple slices Aiden had brought for him.
Lyon may have his late mother’s mocha skin and dark hair, but the unique blue-green color of his eyes resembled his uncle’s. Man, he was gonna be a heartbreaker when he grew up. Aiden rolled out from under Lyon and waved his nephew farther out before he threw the ball. Sadie admired Aiden’s strong legs, the sprinkling of fair hair, and the way the cutoff gray sweats cupped his butt.
In spite of the cool air, Sadie fanned herself.
“Sadie!” Lyon hollered, bounding over to her and interrupting her R-rated, heading for NC-17, thoughts. She replaced them with Disney-like dancing bears.
“Yes, sir,” she said, “What can I do for you?”
“Catch!” She didn’t think Lyon ever uttered a phrase that didn’t end in exclamation points.
“You bet,” Sadie held out a hand and caught Lyon’s throw smoothly. She lined up her fingers and drew back to throw, feeling Aiden watch her, an eyebrow cocked curiously.
“You don’t look like you need help with that pigskin,” he said, lifting his hands to catch a pass.
Sadie pulled her arm back and tossed the ball, watching the impressive spiral slice through the air. Aiden had to back up a few steps and lift his arms over his head to catch it. His shirt to rode up, flashing a stomach abbreviated by a damn sexy belly button. God bless her twenty-twenty vision. She would have hated to miss that sight for a pair of imperfect peepers.
“She’s awesome!” Lyon hollered, throwing himself to the ground again.
Aiden jogged over to where she stood. “Yeah, I know.” His eyes flickered to her mouth and her lips tingled. “Where’d you learn to throw like that?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Oh, you know…”
Lyon tugged on Aiden’s shirt, breaking their intense eye contact. “I’m throwing it,” Lyon instructed, pointing at the ball. “You tackle Sadie, Uncle A.”
“It’s not nice for boys to tackle girls,” Aiden said, casting Sadie a sideways glance.
“I don’t know about that,” she said. That got his full attention.
Lyon ran back, ball in hand and turned. Aiden bent, hands on his knees, and Sadie narrowed her eyes at him and prepared to catch it before he did. Lyon’s throw was short. The football hit the ground, wobbling in three directions at once.
Sadie reached the ball first, but as her hand grazed one pointed tip, Aiden lashed an arm around her waist and fell to the ground, bracing her fall with his body. The air whooshed from her lungs, and Sadie laughed. Before she knew how, Aiden had rolled her onto her back in the grass and straddled her.
Her laughter ebbed into a soft
“Gotcha,” Aiden said.
She’d say.
