Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Paige
Levi irritates me to no end. He makes it seem like he’s doing the big brother thing by coming to my house. Again. But I know that he will just hold this over me, reminding me that I should learn how to cook.
Reminding me that I need to learn how to take better care of Noah and myself.
We’ve been lucky up to this point to have friends and family. My mom pitches in to help watch him and often brings frozen casseroles to feed us on the nights she’s gone. Summer takes us out to dinner once a week.
If my mom and Summer take excellent care of us, Levi is the one who has really gone above and beyond. When his wife passed away, he had to learn to take care of his two kids. He was years ahead of me when I lost James and had to learn to become a mom on my own.
He says it’s nothing to make a little extra when he’s already in the kitchen, cooking for three. I have my doubts that cooking for five is easy, though. Especially when you have to drive it across town to feed two of the people you cook for.
“I’m always going to come when you call,” Levi says quietly. “No matter who else you have in your corner, I’ll always be your brother.”
My heart warms at his declaration of love, my fury softened a bit by the gentle words. Zachary sets Noah down on the grass, where he toddles over to Levi and wraps his chubby arms around Levi’s leg.
“Fire is contained,” Aaron announces from behind us.
Ever since he stepped off the truck, I’ve been hyperaware of his presence. Arguing with Levi, I never lost track of Aaron inside the house. I could hear him clattering around the kitchen. The smoke stopped curling through the window.
He comes up behind us slowly, laughter on his lips.
“I think our work here is done,” Levi says to Zachary.
They walk away to give Aaron and me some privacy. Zachary steps out of his gear, no longer needed.
“If you had just put the pan inside the oven, the oxygen would have been gone. The fire would have died, and you could have spared yourself a call to us,” he tells me.
The expression on his face tells me that he’s already figured it out. He arches an eyebrow and waits for me to spill the truth—which I almost do.
Instead, I skirt around it. “I knew it wasn’t dangerous. I just wanted to make sure, you know, because of Noah and all.”
“You have a reputation for starting kitchen fires,” he says. “I find it hard to believe that Levi hasn’t stocked you up with extinguishers.”
“Under the kitchen sink and by the stove. Plus a couple more in the bedrooms for good measure,” I confess.
He leans into me. Too close for a professional call. Not close enough for a personal one. My weight shifts automatically to the balls of my feet, pushing me an inch or two closer.
My body seems to have a mind of its own, betraying me.
His cheek brushes against mine, so close that I can feel the harsh stubble on his jaw. The abrasion wakes up my nerve endings, lights up every receptor in my body.
His lips brush the shell of my ear until he whispers, “I told you not to set anything on fire. What happened to you being a good girl until our date?”
His words make me feel like a live wire has snapped inside of me. It isn’t just the warmth of his breath against my ear that makes me feel alive. It’s the way it tugs lower in my core, the way it pools between my legs.
I can’t feel this way while my brother is right there.
Aaron pulls back, a smirk on his face like he knows how that turned me on. Then he looks down at the pan in his hand, covered with the charred remnants of our breakfast.
“What was this supposed to be?” he asks, genuinely curious.
“Pancakes,” I mumble. “They’re well outside the repertoire of my limited cooking skills. I should have known better than to try to cook them.”
Aaron nods and studies the batter, caked in the bottom of the now-ruined nonstick pan. “I’ll teach you how to do that.”
“Teach me?” Laughter burbles up. “Do you know how many people have tried to teach me to cook for Noah?”
“Not a bad idea, Paige.” Levi approaches us, a wicked smile on his face. “It’s about time you learned the basics, and heaven knows I couldn’t teach you.”
I put my head in my hands, feeling like a lost cause.
“Listen, it’s the last call. The guys radioed over that shift change already happened while we were gone.” Levi looks pointedly at the two of us. “I’ll take Noah with me. I promised the kids we’d go to the park.”
“That’s really not—” I start to protest.
“Let me just go inside and get him ready.” He doesn’t wait for permission to swing Noah into his arms and brush past me inside.
“The whole family has the same damn trait,” I mutter under my breath, thinking of the way my mom left the night of the wedding.
Everyone seems keen to give Aaron and me privacy. I’m not sure we can be trusted with it. Not when my body feels like it is being pulled into his orbit. Not when I can barely keep my hands off him, especially in that uniform.
“And what trait is that?” Aaron asks, playfully tucking a strand of loose hair back into my bun.
“We don’t know how to be discreet.” I blush, thinking about what my family wants to set us up to do.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he assures me. “We can call Levi back right now and tell him to chaperone us, if that’s what you want.”
I shake my head. As much as being with Aaron makes me feel nervous, I do want to be with him. I do want to see where this could go. It’s just that fifteen years have passed since I was with someone new.
Fifteen years.
Levi charges out the door with the overloaded backpack and a change of clothes for Noah.
“Come get him later,” he says, putting him in the car seat in the back of the SUV. “I’ll take this back to the station and then head home to take the kids to the park.”
And then, Aaron and I are left alone.
He takes me by the hand and gently leads me into the kitchen. Without a word, he rummages through the cabinets until he finds a pan that is still usable, if a little scratched and burned. He sets it on the burner to heat.
“The trick is to get the pan hot before you start,” he murmurs, positioning me in front of the stove. He keeps his hands on my hips, keeping me from moving out of the way.
He checks the batter in the bowl beside the stovetop, stirring it with a flick of one wrist.
“Nice and smooth,” he comments. “You followed the recipe on the back of the box.”
“I’m not totally incompetent,” I protest, but the words die on my lips when his mouth finds the sensitive part of my neck. He nips once, then turns his attention back to the batter.
He places one hand over the pan, testing the heat. Satisfied, he hands me the can of butter spray.
“Keep the pan slick with this butter. You wouldn’t want your pancakes to stick.” He guides my hand over the pan, making sure that it’s all coated in butter.
Every word coming out of his mouth feels suggestive. It feels like a storm is gathering inside of me and the clouds are about to burst. If it takes too much longer to pull a decent pancake off this griddle, I won’t make it.
He pours a perfect circle of batter in the middle of the pan. “Now, we wait until the batter bubbles.”
His hand finds the expanse of ticklish skin under the hem of my shirt, tracing lazy patterns on it. Each brush of his fingertips causes sparks to explode behind my eyes. All I can feel is the wetness between my legs, the burning desire for him to run his fingertips lower.
Aaron must sense what he’s doing to me because he dips one finger beneath the waistband of my unicorn pajamas, just enough to tug the waistband of my silk panties. My back arches into him, but he pulls away.
“Time to flip the pancake,” he murmurs.
“The pancake,” I manage, gasping for air.
I watch the pancake turn golden brown, an alchemy I never managed on my own and likely never will. Aaron watches me with more rapt attention than I thought possible.
“Screw the pancake,” he mutters, before flipping it onto a nearby plate and turning the burner off.
I squeal as he picks me up by my thighs and places me on the sticky countertop beside the stove. The lighthearted laughter dies on my lips as he kisses me.
I guess it wasn’t the pancakes I was hungry for.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him into me as tightly as I can. His cock presses against my center, a reminder that he actually likes my mom bod. I scoot closer to the edge of the counter, anything to feel him better.
“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this,” he whispers, his voice huskier than usual.
For a moment, I let myself believe it’s true. That a man could want me, even after everything my body has been through.
* * *
Aaron
Paige feels incredible under my hands. She’s more eager than I thought she would be, the fervor of her kisses matching mine. When her back arches as my teeth graze her lip, I take a risk and move lower.
“I need to take these off,” I murmur into her neck.
I’m giving her a way out, a chance to say no. But she lifts her hips from the counter and shimmies my new favorite unicorn pajamas down. Carefully, I pull them down her thighs and off her. Then, with one sweeping motion, I grab the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head.
She sits on the counter in front of me, naked but for her bra and panties.
I want to trace each one of those silver stretch marks with my tongue. Every curve of her body invites my touch, the exploration of my hands. I want to worship her, but she’s sitting in front of me, practically begging.
So I lean down and press a kiss to the inside of her thigh. She shivers at the prickle of my stubble against her tender skin.
“Tell me what you want.” I stop and look up at her, my mouth inches from her center. Her eyes are dark with lust when she looks down at me.
“Please.” It’s the only word that comes out.
She closes her eyes as if she can hardly bear to watch.