Passing His Guard

“All right, but I can’t promise there were no animals harmed in the making of this story.”

She laughed, stabbed her fork in her cranberry walnut salad, and said, “I promise not to report you to PETA.”

The rest of the evening settled into an easy, relaxed di

Aiden was utterly charming, impeccably ma

No, it wasn’t just about how great the sex would be—and she had no doubt it would be fantastic—or how amazing he made her feel with his skillful touch. There was something else here between them, and she was a fool if she thought she could pretend it didn’t exist. He must feel it too, or else he wouldn’t have tried to warn her off at her suggestion of a fling.

“I still can’t believe that happened to you,” she said, coming back to his rubber chicken story. “How could you not know she was a prostitute?”

“It was a Halloween party. Half the women there looked like prostitutes. Besides, it was Easton’s fault for slipping her a hundred bucks and telling her I was into that kinky shit.”

She broke out laughing again and hugged her aching sides. Aiden joined her, his deep baritone voice like audible foreplay.

“Oh, I can laugh about it now, but I tell you what, it was months before I could step into a Chick-fil-A without my ass getting phantom pains. Fucking Easton . . .” he chuckled, shaking his head. Aiden lifted his beer and drained his glass. “But I got that bastard back. Broke his nose, which then started a bar fight that landed half of Coach’s CFA team in the county jail for the weekend. He took his sweetass time bailing us out, too.”

“Wait, which one is Easton again?”

“He’s the guy I was sparring with at the gym the day you showed up. The one that punched me in the jaw.”

Ahh . . . that was the broody guy at the after party Aiden had been talking to. Wow, after everything that had happened, it felt like months since they’d met, rather than days. “So are you two still friends?”

“The best. He’s the brother I never had.”

“That’s who you were visiting at the hospital?”

He tensed. Whether from the serious turn in conversation or the reminder that she’d been following him, she couldn’t know. His expression turned slightly guarded, but he wasn’t pulling all the walls up yet. She regretted bringing it up, then again they were going to have to talk about it eventually, right? Perhaps easing into it wasn’t such a bad idea.

He nodded, offering her no more information.

“Is he all right?”

“He will be.”

“And the blonde you were with?” She tried to keep the flicker of jealousy from her tone and realized she’d failed miserably when Aiden gave her a crooked smile.

“That’s Easton’s girl. Her name is Katie Miller. She’s Coach’s niece.”

“Wow, if that isn’t sticking your hand in the cookie jar.”

Aiden laughed, seeming to relax once again now that he could see the direction their conversation was going, hovering on the outskirts of personal without getting too deep.

“Does your coach mind? Easton dating his niece?”

Aiden shrugged. “If he did, he’s over it now. Which reminds me, I need to call him back. I didn’t take his call earlier at the station. God knows he’s probably in a fit, and I didn’t want to get into it with him there.”

“That reminds me, I have some calls to return myself before it gets too late.”

Curiosity glinted in his eyes, but he didn’t ask and she was grateful for it. She didn’t want to lie to him. Not after the wonderful evening they’d shared together. Aiden glanced at his watch. “Shit, I didn’t realize how late it was. We should probably get going.”

“I’m ready when you are.”

Aiden waved the waiter over, stood to grab his wallet from his pocket, and handed the man his credit card.

“This was a really great evening,” she told him. “Thank you.” Draining her glass of the last few swallows of Lambrusco, she went to stand, but her legs had other ideas. Her knees buckled, but before she could steady herself on the table, Aiden’s hand was on her arm and he was pulling her into his side.

“Whoa, there, you all right?” he asked, putting a steadying hand on each of her shoulders so he could get a better look at her.

Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. “I’m fine. I just got up a little fast, is all. I’m not used to drinking so much. Usually two glasses is my limit.”

His top lip curled in a crooked grin that revealed those perfect, straight teeth. “I think you might’ve tripled that, sweetheart.”

“Hence, the tripping over my own feet,” she added, unable to contain her intoxicated giggle. Out of nowhere, the waiter returned with Aiden’s card. Keeping one steadying hand on her arm, he scribbled his signature on the paper and handed it back to the man who thanked him and skirted away. As she watched him maneuver the plastic into his wallet one-handed, her gaze fell on the edge of a foil wrapper poking out the other side.

The sight of it sent a flutter of butterflies erupting in her stomach. They battered all the way to her chest, making it tight with excitement. Nervous energy hummed through her veins. She couldn’t believe she was going to do this—she was going to have sex with Aiden Kruze tonight.

CHAPTER

21

She was not having sex with Aiden Kruze tonight. At least that was what he informed her when she suggested they stop by the gas station on the way back to their motel room. From what she’d seen, he only had one condom in that wallet, and they were definitely doing it more times than that. Or so she’d thought, until he took her face in his hands and placed a chaste, patronizing kiss on her cheek and said, “You, sweetheart, by no means fit the legal definition of consenting adult right now.”

“Uhhh . . .” she huffed, flopping back against the passenger seat. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Baby, you’re trashed.”

“I am not trashed, I’m tipsy.” As if that somehow made it better.

He chuckled. “Yes, you are. And you nearly tipsied ass over teakettle in that restaurant.” He fired up the Escape and turned the defroster on.

“Why do you have to be such a lawyer?” she complained. “I tell you what: you make me come, and I promise not to sue you.”

She gave him a saucy wink when his head whiplashed back around to look at her. He dragged his hand through his hair and muttered a nasty curse to which she responded, “That’s what I’m trying to do, but you’re clam-jamming me.”

He busted out laughing, which had not been what she was going for—at all. “I’m what?” he asked incredulously.

“Clam-jamming me. It’s the female version of cock-blocking,” she snipped. “It’s a real thing. You can Google it.”

“Oh, I believe you,” he said, still laughing like she was Gabriel Freaking Iglesias or something. “I just never thought I’d hear those words come out of your sweet little mouth.”