24
982 Words
Aidan says, “Everything was locked. No signs of a break in. I checked upstairs, too.”
I’m relieved but also feel silly, seeing how I ran from the house as if I were being chased by demons. My overactive imagination is getting the best of me.
“Great. Thank you.”
“No problem.”
“Why are you smiling like that?”
“Oh, nothing. I just think you’re really good at drawing, that’s all.”
I don’t know what he means for a moment. When it hits me, I roll my eyes. “You were in my office.”
“Had to check the windows.”
“You checked a few other things too, I guess.”
He reaches out and tugs on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, pulling me toward him. Then he wraps me in his arms and grins down at me. “I think that pet rabbit the little boy has is really cute.” I smile. “Yeah, I bet you do.”
“So you’re an artist?”
“Illustrator. Children’s books mostly, though I do the occasional calendar and magazine piece.”
He leans down and gently presses his lips to mine. “You’re crazy f*****g talented, Kayla.”
That compliment makes me feel as if gravity has ceased to exist, and the only reason I’m still tethered to the earth is that his arms are wrapped around my body. “Thank you.”
“Aw. Look at my bashful little bunny with her red cheeks.”
“Shut up before I kick you in the shin.”
Chuckling, he leans down and kisses me again. “Bashful and bitchy. My two favorite things.”
“Call me bitchy again and we’ll see how far you can walk with a ruptured spleen.”
He tries to muffle the sound of his laughter by pressing his face to the side of my neck.
I shove against his chest half-heartedly. “Jerk.”
“You don’t think I’m a jerk,” he says softly, then kisses me again, this time more deeply.
No, I admit to myself as his tongue delves into my mouth. No, sir, I do not.
We kiss until both of us are breathing hard and the little pulse of heat between my legs has grown into an ache. Then the guilt swamps me again, and I pull away, pressing my fingers to my lips. Aidan searches my face. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
When I refuse to meet his eyes, he takes my chin in his hand and tilts my head up so I’m forced to look at him.
“What is it?”
My mouth has turned dry. I moisten my lips and swallow. “I’m feeling a bit…” I clear my throat.
“Uncomfortable.”
He seems surprised. “With me?”
“With doing this in my house.”
After a brief pause, he says, “Okay.” Then he steps back, releasing me.
“Oh God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“No, I get it.”
He can’t possibly get it, but I give him points for trying. “It’s just that it was very recent. My separation from my husband.” I clear my throat again. “And I keep expecting him to walk in the door at any minute. It’s just weird for me. I’m sorry.”
“You can stop apologizing,” he says softly. “I said it’s okay.”
Cringing, I wring my hands together. “I know, but I can tell it’s not, and now I feel like a dick.”
“You’re not a d**k. I’d kiss you again, but I don’t want to make it weirder for you than it already is. So here’s the deal: I’m gonna call my buddy Jake who owns a security company. He’s gonna come out and set you up with an alarm. In the meantime, I’ve got a meeting I need to get to, but after, I’m gonna get to work on that leak.”
He nods toward the kitchen and the buckets on the floor. “I won’t be able to start repairs until we get a break in the weather lasting more than a few days, but I’ll put up a tarp on the roof to stop more water from coming in and remove any wet insulation from the attic so you don’t get a mold problem.
Okay?”
“Yes. Okay. Thank you. Oh, let me go get my checkbook—”
“One more f*****g word,” he cuts in, “and you earn yourself a spanking.” Startled, I stare at him. There’s no smile on his face, no trace of humor.
He’s completely serious.
I say tentatively, “Can I ask a question?” He nods.
“Is it the checkbook I shouldn’t be talking about or did you just want me to be quiet in general?”
He presses his lips together and folds his arms over his chest. Now I can tell he’s trying to keep a straight face. He’s also trying to be intimidating, and he’s pretty much failing at both things. He says sternly, “What I meant is that I’m not taking your money.”
“But we agreed—”
“One more word,” he interrupts again, this time quite loudly.
Mirroring his posture, I fold my arms over his chest and stare him down. “I didn’t have s*x with you to get free roof repairs, Aidan.”
“No s**t, Kayla. I’m still not taking your money.”
“Is this one of those macho man ego things? Do you really think I’m being emasculating by expecting to pay you for your time and expertise?”
“Yes and yes.”
I say flatly, “That’s nuts.”
- Writer
