8. Aaron
CHAPTER EIGHT
AARON
I pull up to Liam’s worksite and reach for the Styrofoam containers sitting on the passenger seat of my truck. “Wings,” I yell to Liam, who’s up on the roof.
“Be right down,” he calls back.
I go around to the back of my truck and lower the tailgate. Liam probably eats in the air-conditioned cab of his truck most days, and I hope the wings are enough to make up for the open-air lunch.
He joins me a few minutes later, an enormous jug of water in his hand. He sighs as he pushes himself up onto the tailgate with me. “What brings you by?”
I hand him a container. “Gotta eat.”
Liam wears a skeptical expression, but he doesn’t deny the food. Seriously, the man loves chicken wings with his whole heart .
I’ve been out with women before, and I’ve never run my plans past Liam. I don’t know why I need this reassurance for tonight’s date with Emma, but I only manage to eat one wing before I can’t get even my saliva down my throat.
“Listen, so, I, uh, asked Emma to dinner for tonight, and I’m not sure—” I cut off when Liam starts coughing.
“You—asked—Emma—to—dinner?” He wipes his mouth and peers at me over the top of the napkins. “When?”
“Last night.” I glare at him. “I also don’t like the wide-eyed surprise. What? I can’t ask Emma out?”
Liam recovers quickly. “Of course you can. I didn’t know you wanted to.”
“Really?” I roll my eyes. “All the sighing and pining hasn’t clued you in?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “I just moved back here, brother.”
I take another bite and look across the piles of lumber Liam’s laid out on the front lawn. “I’m worried that what I have planned for tonight isn’t good enough.”
“What’ve you got planned?”
I knew he’d ask that, and I can’t bring myself to say it. “It’s dinner,” I say.
“Your details astound me,” he says dryly.
“I don’t want to say.”
“Then I can’t comment on whether it’s good enough,” Liam says. “Though I’m sure it’s absolutely fine. Hill and I went to the bowling alley for our first date, for crying out loud.”
“Yeah, but the bowling alley’s fun.”
“Have you planned somewhere not-fun?” Liam asks.
“I don’t think so.”
“Then it’ll be great. Em’s real easy-going.”
That’s not an adjective I would’ve used for Emma, but I know her in a different capacity than Liam. She’s not uppity, though, and I’ve never seen her all put together like Claudia. Not that she isn’t put together at all—she is. In a different way.
She’s a jeans-and-tee-shirt type of woman who arranges flowers into masterful works of art, and I stifle a groan. Will a florist want to go see more flowers?
Maybe everything I have planned in a few hours is all wrong.
“I really like her,” I say in a near-whisper. “Emma. I’ve had a crush on her for months.”
Liam does me the courtesy of staying silent for several moments, probably absorbing what I’ve said. “I didn’t know,” he finally says.
“Well, you’ve been gone.”
“And you never talk about the women you like.”
I give him a wry smile. “That too.” I point a chicken wing at him. “But you wouldn’t even tell me who your first date was with when you went out with Hillary. ”
Liam grins at me. “Just give me a hint about dinner tonight.”
“Forget it.” I think of the succulents I bought yesterday, and I remind myself that Emma loves flowers and plants, and she’s going to love a date centered around them. Now all I can do is hope and pray that flowers and plants possess enough magic to make this first date unforgettable.
I’ve driven over to Cherry Lane thousands of times. After all, my best friend has lived at the end of the lane for years. I’ve never been as nervous as I am now.
Emma asked what the dress code for tonight was, and I’d texted her, Casual. Easy. Whatever you’re comfortable in.
I’m secretly hoping she’s wearing those dark wash jeans that cling to her every curve. She lives with five other women, one of whom is a model, so she’s always got something super-amazing to wear, and I lose right turns and have to wonder if the last light I went through was actually green just thinking about her.
I didn’t kiss her last night when she left my house, because it felt lame to do it on my own front porch, or next to her car in my driveway, or in my office—which now has the popcorn ceiling removed.
After lunch, Liam sent me a bunch of texts, and by three p.m., Beckett and Elliott had chimed in to the group text. As I near the last turn I need to make before I’ll be on Cherry Lane, their texts are all I can think about.
Everyone will be there when she comes to the door , Beckett had said. Don’t say anything you don’t want all six of them to hear.
I recommend kissing on the first date , Elliott said. But they have a front porch camera, so you’ve got to plan around that.
You guys are freaking him out , Liam told them. He wanted advice for a first date, not all of this.
He’s wrong and right—I want it all.
No matter what, compliment what she’s wearing , Beckett said. It’s probably not all hers, and you need the roommate points.
Does he, though? Liam had asked. They all know him.
They know him as Aaron-the-hardware-guy , Elliott said. The friend who goes to small business meetings with Emma. Not as her boyfriend, and take it from someone who’s had to bridge that gap and reinvent himself, he needs the roommates on his side.
At least Emma likes you already , Beckett said.
Total uphill battle for us, right, Becks? Liam had added a laughing emoji to that text.
I need a checklist of things to do and things not to do, and before I know it, I’m walking up to the front door of the Big House. The siding is this pretty butter-yellow color, and Tahlia makes everyone do jobs every spring and autumn—I know, because I gave her four hours of excavator use to move some rocks last year.
So I’m not surprised that the pillars, the railing, and the shutters look like they’ve been freshly painted a bright white. I reach to ring the doorbell, telling myself not to fiddle with my collar or check for my phone and wallet.
I pocket my hands and actually look over my shoulder and toward Liam’s, as if I’m just here to try to sell solar panels. It takes for-freaking-ever for someone to come to the door, and I stand still, remembering that Beckett said it would take them a long time.
They like to line up and take a look at you first , he’d said. Wear something nice.
I’m suddenly sure my own jeans, cowboy boots, and dark gray polo aren’t enough. I should’ve grabbed a hat or chosen a shirt that had stripes on it. Something.
Finally, the bright blue door opens, and Tahlia herself stands there. “Hello, Aaron,” she says pleasantly. “Emma’s having a bit of a footwear crisis, so come on in.” She backs up as she says it, and I step up and into the house.
“Evening, Tahlia,” I say, finally remembering my manners. “I didn’t know someone could have a footwear crisis.”
“Oh, you don’t know much about women, then.” Tahlia gives me a knowing smile, and all it does is make me feel like a complete fool.
“I just have one brother,” I say. “I don’t think he’s gotten a new pair of shoes in five years.” I manage a tight-lipped smile.
“Aaron, hey.”
I turn toward the familiar voice and find Beckett almost on top of me. He takes me into a fast man-hug and steps back. “I like this shirt.” He grins at me like he knows a secret I don’t.
“You like his shirt?” Claudia asks as she joins the greet-Aaron party in the foyer. “Have you guys rehearsed this?” She pins me with her dark-eyed gaze, and she really is a bit terrifying.
She’s just so polished and so sophisticated, and now that I see her loop her arm through Beckett’s, I realize he is too. The man is wearing black slacks, shiny dress shoes, and a pale blue shirt open at the throat at nearly seven-thirty at night.
“No,” Beckett says easily, but I have my doubts.
Claudia’s sculpted left eyebrow goes up. “Sure, I believe you guys.”
“You think I’m trying to make him look better than he already is?” Beckett scoffs. “Look at him, sweetheart. I’d go out with him in that shirt.”
“It’s a gray polo .” Claudia rolls her eyes. “No offense, Aaron.”
I lift one hand in a wave of whatever- acceptance. If a polo isn’t good enough for Emma, then that’s that. I don’t even own a dress shirt like what Beckett’s wearing.
“Are you guys going out tonight?” I ask Beckett and Claudia.
“No,” Claudia says while Beckett says, “We’re taking dinner to my aunt.” They look at one another, and oh, boy, I’ve started something there. Hex nuts and screwdrivers.
They bicker as they go back into the living room, and I wonder who else I’m going to have to impress tonight.
“He’s standing in the foyer?”
Relief paints through me at the sound of Emma’s voice. I turn away from the living room to see her exiting the mouth of the hallway on the left, something I didn’t expect.
“You couldn’t have offered him a seat?” She throws Tahlia a look, but Tahlia simply smiles at her.
“He was talking to Claude and Beckett literally five seconds ago.”
I stand there and stare at the gorgeous blonde I’ve somehow conned into going out with me. I can’t believe we’re getting together for the third night in a row, even if the previous two evenings weren’t technically dates.
Emma’s hair falls in soft curls over her shoulders, where it rests on a bright blue, short-sleeved sweater that makes me want to touch the fabric. Or maybe just her.
And she’s got those dark-wash jeans on, with a pair of bright blue ankle boots that swallow the hem of those pants. And they look like they’re velvet.
Emma is made of sapphires and gold, and I can’t wait to be alone with her. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from kissing her tonight.
“Wow,” I say. “It looks like you solved your footwear emergency in the best way possible.”
Emma smiles at me, and I lose my ever-loving mind, because the next thing I know, I’ve dropped to my knees. “Are these things velvet?” I reach out and touch the boots, feeling the soft, furriness of what is definitely velvet.
I pet her shoe until I feel like I’ve gone insane. And Lizzie says, “What are you doing, Aaron?”
Humiliating myself completely , I think as I look up and find her, Emma, Thalia, and Ryanne staring at me with various levels of incredulity on their faces. Or horror. Disdain? Disgust?
Before I can move, the front door opens, and Liam and Hillary walk in. “Is he proposing already?” Hillary asks at the same time Liam goes, “Why are you on the floor?”
“I’m not proposing,” I bark at them, and I wave off Liam’s hand as he offers it to me to help me stand. I get up and down all day long, and I can get up myself. I do, every cell in my body burning hotly.
I can’t even look at Emma as I say, “Are you finally ready?”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve made a mistake. One of the roommates gasps, and that clues me in too.
“The Doberman has arrived,” Emma says.
“Don’t act like you don’t like the bad boy,” Ryanne says, and that makes me gasp. She nudges Emma away from her side, and I extend my hand toward her.
“I didn’t know it would take ten minutes to get you. We might be late.”
“Factor in the pick-up time next time,” Lizzie says. “Because now we’ll need to hear Claude’s and Beckett’s commentary on your clothes every time you come over.” She grins at me, and adds, “ Fifteen extra minutes, Aaron.”
“Let’s go, Grumpy.” Emma takes my hand and looks up at me with plenty of teasing in her expression.
“After you, Snow White,” I say, and that causes more gasping. Emma opens the door and steps out onto the porch as some slight snickering comes from behind us too.
“Where are you two off to tonight?” Liam asks.
“Nice try,” I throw back to him, and then I pull the door closed behind me. “Wow.” I look at Emma, who waited for me at the top of the steps. “That was intense.”
The doorbell beeps, and someone says, “We can hear you. Take your fancy polo and go.”
Claudia.
Emma grins and grins, then starts to laugh as I hurry past her and down the steps. And I was even warned about the doorbell cam.
“Aaron, wait.” She rushes after me, catching me near the end of the sidewalk. “I didn’t mean to be late.”
“Whose shoes are those?”
“Can you curb your tone?” She shoots me a look, and I come to a full stop.
I grab her hand as she tries to go by me. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re like riding a roller coaster.” She blows out her breath. “The good thing is, I know what ride I’m getting on, because everything shows on your face.”
“You’re gorgeous,” I say, tugging her closer. “Sorry about that—whack-whatever I did in there.” I lean into her and take a deep breath of her hair. I get peaches and cream and so much floral goodness.
“The shoes are stunning, and I just wanted to touch them.”
“You’re a very tactile man,” she whispers.
“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”
“Maybe not in front of everyone,” she says, leaning her head back. “You said we might be late, and now you’re just standing here.”
“Right.” My visions of kissing her out here in the graveled parking area in front of the Big House evaporate. “Let’s go.” I walk her to the passenger side of my truck and hold the door for her.
Once I’m behind the wheel, I say, “Now, I have rules for my truck. ”
“Rules?”
“One, I don’t want any screaming inside the vehicle.”
“Screaming?”
“I have a private kitchen reservation at Stack Shack.”
Emma sucks in a breath, and I’m reminded of the calm before a storm. Or that time between when a baby sucks in a big breath and is about to let a mighty wail loose. She starts to squeal, and I hold up my hand.
“Rule one,” I say.
She sucks her shriek back inside somehow and blinks at me as I back out of the parking area. “Stack Shack, Aaron? How did you do that? It takes weeks to get in there.”
“I know the owner,” I say casually. “He opened up a table in their kitchen, so you can see the chefs work their magic on your beloved pancakes.” I smile over to her, thrilled when she reaches for my hand. “And I have tickets to the Bloom Bonanza, but I’m realizing now that we might not have time to go tonight.”
I glance at the clock. “The chef’s table experience takes a couple of hours.” I look over to her. “I maybe over-planned.”
“You forgot I had to work late.” She beams at me. “It’s okay to admit it.”
A sense of happiness like I haven’t felt in a long time clears away my earlier humiliation of kneeling down to pet Emma’s boots. “Yeah, all right,” I say with a genuine smile. “I forgot we wouldn’t be going to dinner until eight.”
“I love it when other people forget things,” she says, and she seems a little too happy about it.
I chuckle. “It just means we’ll have to go out again.”
“Can you get the tickets transferred to another night?”
“I’ll call Misty,” I say.
“Oh, right,” she says. “I forget sometimes that you know everyone everywhere.”
“Everyone, everywhere?” I scoff. “Come on.”
“How did you get the tickets to the Bonanza?” She stares at me, and not in the he’s-so-hot-I-can’t-look-away type of way. But a confrontational way.
I squirm slightly in my seat. “I don’t want to say.”
She giggles in that sexy, womanly way she has. “You don’t need to say. I already know you called in a favor.”
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” I ask.
“It’s the rehearsal dinner,” she says.
“Will you be my date?” I shoot a look over to her.
“I think that’s obvious by now,” she says.
My whole chest warms, and I squeeze her hand. “Tell me what you need help with on Saturday for the flowers, and I’ll be there.”
“Really, Aaron?”
“Yes,” I say simply. “Just boss me, Emma.”
“You’re going to be sorry you ever said that,” she says .
“Maybe,” I say, but I don’t really believe that. I’ve been helping Emma at her flower shop for months now out of sheer desperation to be with her, and I don’t see that changing any time soon.
I just have to keep the Doberman at bay—and not get down on the ground and pet Emma’s shoes ever again.