Chapter 6
Holy mackerel.
Dez pushed her hair from her face and watched Aiden move around the kitchen.
Never in her wildest fantasies had she envisioned she’d actually land a hot guy who’d cook her breakfast—without sex attached.
Yet here he was, his bronze, ripped back blocking the view of her stove.
His black gym shorts hung low on his waist and the hair on his head was mussed.
If perfection could be wrapped up into one man, she was looking at it.
He went to her fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs then grabbed the milk with his other hand. “Scrambled okay?” He paused with the fridge door resting on his hip. The dark stubble on his jaw was thicker now, making his green orbs even more prominent.
Why did the universe have to test her so hard?
More importantly, why did she have such an aversion to getting back in bed with Aiden? Oh, right. Because she barely knew him and the last thing she needed was to be called the town slut.
A slutty witch was a bad combination. Women would fear she was after their men and petition to burn her at the stake.
“Anything you’re cooking is great.”
His lips loosened into a grin and moisture collected between her thighs. Lord, have mercy.
He went back to the stove and she relaxed a little. Her phone buzzed on the table in front of her and she shifted her gaze to it. Ray’s phone number flashed across the screen and her insides clenched.
She swiped to ignore the call and slid her phone a few inches away.
“Do you need to take that?”
She looked up. Aiden had turned from the stove, a pink spatula in his hand. Her lips worked into a smile at the sight of him all buff and holding something so girly.
“Definitely not.”
“Is it Ray?”
She pinched her lips together. No point in lying. “Yeah.” The admission promised more conversation, and the pain radiating along her skull from last night wasn’t prepared for that. Hell, even her body hurt like she’d been fighting in an octagon ring for hours.
He slid the pan off the burner and stomped across the room. “Call him back. I want to talk to him.” He reached for her phone, but she swatted his hand away.
“Excuse me. I’ll do no such thing.”
“Why not?” he demanded.
His abdomen was level with her face, so close she could reach out and run her fingers over the ripple of muscles. Every atom in her body told her to comply with that desire. She curled her fingers into her palm, her nails poking her skin.
That was a surefire way to mess things up. Maybe one day she’d get back in the sack with Aiden, but she had to trust he wouldn’t ruin her reputation first. She forced all the tempting thoughts from her mind and replayed his question in her head.
“Because he’ll get confrontational if you speak to him, and I don’t want him to get angry in case he ends up seeing my mom.”
“This guy is a problem.”
“No shit, Sherlock. It’s a problem I’ll handle, though.”
He mumbled something and walked back to the stove. A few minutes later he slid eggs, bacon, and toast in front of her. Taking the chair next to her rather than the one across, he sat.
The man still hadn’t put on a freaking shirt, but she wasn’t going to be mad about that. Not when she might very well not see him in her kitchen again.
Aiden stabbed at the eggs with his fork then stopped halfway to his mouth. “We need to talk about something.”
She bit off a piece of bacon, and the salty meat filled her mouth with flavor. Her stomach wrestled with his words. If he brought up Saturday night again, she might just pull her hair out. “About?”
He popped the eggs into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “About where you’re going to stay tonight.”
“Oh.” She set down her fork. The thought of leaving her house brought a rush of anger, but she didn’t have much choice. “I can stay at the Whistlemore Inn.”
He picked up a piece of toast. “Won’t it be hard to get a room during peak season?”
She slumped. Crap. He was right. It’d be impossible to book anything this time of year. “Yeah, I didn’t think of that.”
“Family?”
“I might be able to stay with a friend. My mom lives a couple hours away. I need to get to work every day though.”
“You’re not going in today, are you?” he asked, his tone concerned.
“Louise is covering my morning shift, but I have to be there to help her unpack our orders at some point today.” After her ordeal the previous night, she’d messaged Louise to let her know what had happened so she’d be on guard when coming and going from the shop.
Louise had insisted Dez take the morning off, and she hadn’t argued.
“There’s a simple solution, you know.”
She raised her eyebrows. “For which dilemma? Finding the person who’s after me or where I’m going to stay?”
His mouth slid into that oh-so-sexy grin. “I’m working on the first dilemma, but I’m referring to the second.”
She shoved a piece of toast into her mouth and inched her eyebrows further up her forehead, waiting for him to continue.
“You can stay at my place.” The statement came out low, almost pleading.
Butterflies swarmed in her stomach and the bread in her mouth grew soggy and thick. Dez reached for her water and washed it down. She coughed and sat forward, all relaxation leaving her muscles. “I, uh, appreciate the offer, but—”
“But you’d rather stay here where they’ll return? I mean, I can spend the night on the couch again if that’s what you want.”
Her mind spun like a merry-go-round. In any other situation it’d be just plain strange to have a cop camp out on her couch, or stay at his house. But having Aiden close by was comforting. His presence offered her a sense of protection that she’d never felt with a guy.
Not that she’d needed it . . . until now.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said, waving her hand in the air. “Take on this responsibility of being my bodyguard. If it were anyone else you wouldn’t suggest they stay at your house, would you?”
He sat back in his chair and folded his broad arms across his chest. “Correct. But it’s not anyone else.” His words came out strong.
She swallowed.
He shrugged. “Look, stay with me, don’t stay with me. Doesn’t matter. But you can’t stay here by yourself—and are you willing to jeopardize your friends’ safety by staying with them?”
Without a doubt she wouldn’t put her two best friends, McKenna and Josie, at risk.
Both of them would insist she stay at their house, and while McKenna’s boyfriend and Josie’s fiancé were more than capable of keeping them safe, it still wasn’t a situation she wanted to lay on them.
Besides, just a few months ago Josie had nearly been killed by a crazed stalker.
Surely her friend was still on edge. Even if she still glowed from Quin’s proposal a few weeks ago.
“Well?” Aiden asked, impatience riding his words.
She drummed her fingernails on the top of the table. “How many bedrooms do you have?”
He dipped his chin. “I think you remember my bedroom very well.”
She narrowed her gaze, resisting the urge to swat him. Doing so would only make her want to touch him more. “That’s not what I asked you.”
“One.” He scooped up his plate, stood, and strode to the sink. “But don’t worry, it’s a king bed and I don’t snore.”
Snoring was the last thing she was worried about.
* * *
After dropping off Dez at work, which he’d insisted on, Aiden pulled into the parking lot behind the station.
He hated leaving her at her shop, but it was daytime, and she at least had another staff member with her.
He got out of his car and walked to the door, the midmorning summer air warming his face.
Inside, a few people hung out in the waiting area. The scent of coffee and cleaner met him as he opened the door to the area behind the front desk.
Leslie, their receptionist, greeted him with her usual big smile. “Hi, Aiden.” Then her brow turned down. “You look tired today.”
He chuckled. “Thanks, Les. You always know how to make a guy feel good.”
She waved him off and answered the ringing phone.
He reached one of the six desks that took up the room and dropped into his seat. He had a full day of filling out reports and checking into Ray ahead of him.
“Thorne,” a voice called.
Aiden turned toward the sheriff’s office. Hank stood at the partially opened door and jerked his head, motioning him inside. Aiden stood and entered the room.
“Have a seat,” Hank said.
Aiden sat in one of the black chairs in front of the desk and Hank sat across from him.
“What’s up?”
Hank picked up a pencil and tapped the eraser end on a stack of papers. “You got any leads on the Desiree Zimmerman case? I heard there was another incident last night.”
Aiden cleared his throat and loosened the collar of his dress shirt. “Two, actually.”
“Two more incidents?” Hank flipped through the papers and frowned. “Last thing I have recorded is that she was attacked in the parking lot behind her shop. Am I missing something?”
“Yes, sir,” he said. “Someone broke into her home last night. I didn’t get to fill out the paperwork yet, but—”
“Wait a minute.” Hank held up a finger. “Wouldn’t she have made a call to the station?”
“No. Because I was there.”
Hank rolled the chair away from his desk and reclined into the leather in slow motion. “Well, I’ll be damned.” Not a hint of approval lined his voice.
Aiden leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “It wasn’t like that. She had nowhere else to stay with the inns full during peak season, so I camped outside in my car.”
Hank’s bushy gray eyebrows rose almost to his receding hairline. “Then what happened?”
“Then I got a call that she heard a noise and I checked it out. Couldn’t find anyone sneaking around the property, but she told me about some weird things that happened inside her house, so I did a sweep and found a window in her spare room open and dirt on the sill from someone climbing in.”
Hank nodded pensively. “I saw dispatch was out?”
“Yeah, I had them send someone to circle the area, but no luck.”
Hank picked up the pencil and jabbed the pointed end in Aiden’s direction. “All right. Do up the paperwork and call around for lodging. Even call places out in Silver Ridge.”
Heat warmed the side of Aiden’s neck. “I have somewhere for her to stay.”
“Good. Where?”
“My place.” He let the words fall, and a shockwave of silence and tension filled the room.
“Aiden. This isn’t the time for—”
“Look.” Aiden scrubbed his hand over his freshly shaven jaw. “Ms. Zimmerman and I have ties, and that’s all I’m comfortable saying. She’ll be better protected with me.”
Hank’s face relaxed, though only a fraction. “Fine. But I don’t like it. Keep it professional, will ya?”
Aiden nodded and slipped out of the room.
It’d take a will of steel to keep his hands off Desiree, but now he had no choice but to keep things platonic . . . at least until this was over and Hank was off his ass.
Which meant he had to find her attacker and fast, before his dick exploded.