Chapter 29
29
Aidan
T he restaurant takes my reservation, though at this hour, I probably don’t need one. I’d have been more than happy to stay in, wrapped up in Lis and order room service. But when she opened her bag, and closed it as fast as she could, she asked if we were still going out to dinner.
Yes, I’d told her I couldn’t wait to take her out and show her off to the world. I meant that, but tonight I just want to be with her. And love her.
I do—I love her. But I’m afraid that telling her will spook her again.
I check my watch and push myself out of the chair. “Are ye ready, love? They’ve a table for us, we should go soon.”
Not a fucking thing could prepare me for the sight of her walking out of the bathroom. There is nothing revealing about the black dress she’s wearing—high neck, sleeves to her elbows, full skirt to her knees. But it hugs her tits, cinching in at her tiny waist, flaring over her hips and arse. Sweet Jesus.
My eyes blaze a trail down her body, lingering on every delicious curve, but the best part? She’s wearing those fucking shoes. The dark red ones from last night. The ones I couldn’t get out of my head.
Licking my lips, I drag my lascivious gaze back up over every one of those bloody curves until she extends her arm, a slip of paper in her hand.
“Not sure if this is for you or me, but it’s from Gracyn.” She’s got a brow cocked and the smirk on her blood-red lips is distracting as all hell.
I’m rooted to where I stand, knowing that if I move, it’ll be to scoop her up and take her back to bed. Fuck the dinner reservations.
The sway of her hips as she saunters toward me, skirt swishing back and forth, toes peeping out of those sexy-as-fuck shoes. By the grace of God, I get myself together enough to take the paper from her delicate fingers.
You’re Welcome!
My chuckle is low and husky, I wrap a hand around her waist and pull her to me.
“I’ll be sure to thank her, but if we don’t go right now, we’re not going anywhere.” I lean all the way in and kiss her cheek, just below her ear. I’ve time to taste her red lips later.
Hand in hand, we walk the few blocks to the restaurant. The soft evening air, salty from the breeze off the water, swirls Lis’ skirt around her legs. Sailboats bob and sway in the moonlight, the rigging whispers and sighs across the night.
Every head turns as we walk through the restaurant. She’s that stunning.
As I requested, we’re shown to a table that looks out over the water. The room is intimate despite the full tables. The lights are low, and with very little effort, it feels like we’re alone.
The waitress delivers our drinks—whiskey for each of us. They don’t serve it nearly as elaborately as Lisbeth does, but the amber liquid fuels the fire in me as it slides down my throat. Christ, the fact that she doesn’t order a fussy, frilly drink, but whiskey on the rocks, is another plus for her.
“Thank you, again, Aidan. This—this is amazing.” I watch as she brings the tumbler to her perfect red lips, and I’m fucking jealous. Jealous of the glassware. Jesus .
Last night, I was consumed by nerves, terrified of the outcome of our dinner. It seems impossible that it was just yesterday. Tonight though, I’m much more relaxed. Leaning back in my chair, I sip my whiskey across from the woman I’m moving in with me. My ring sparkles on her hand as she swirls her drink around in her glass. The diamonds catch the light with each small movement. The stone in the heart, her lips, those bloody shoes—Christ, I can’t get them out of my mind—are all the same deep sultry red.
“No one has ever done anything like this for me before, thank you.” Her eyes wide and her face open and full of—love?
God, I hope.
“Lisbeth, anything—absolutely anything for you. Anything at all, love.” That shoe peeks out from under the table with each bounce of her foot as we wait for our dinners. It’s distracting as hell.
“So tomorrow, what’s the plan? Are we spending the day?” I nod, watching as she swipes a drop of whiskey from the rim of her glass.
My nod turns to a slow shake as she sucks the amber liquid off the tip of her finger. I don’t even think she’s doing it intentionally—driving me crazy. That’s part of what makes her so alluring. None of it is contrived—it’s just the way she is. Fucking perfect.
“We can take a boat out. I think there are a ton of little islands off the coast—hundreds, if the tide is out. Or hike? Maybe go to a brew house. I think there’s a good one in the next town over,” she suggests.
“We’re booked here through tomorrow night, so we can do whatever you want.”
The server tucks our plates in front of us, checking to see if everything looks okay. Lisbeth moans as she takes her first bite and the rest of the meal becomes a battle to control myself. And to make that struggle worse, she picks the same dessert from our very first date. Her lips wrapping around the chocolate cake, sliding it into her mouth is all I can focus on. I’m completely captivated. Until I feel a ghost of a touch on the back of my calf. She’s staring out at the water, her expression neutral.
I think maybe I imagined it, but when it happens again, she smirks and sets her fork down, dabbing lightly at the corner of her lips.
“Maybe we should just get the check?” Fuck, yes.
Tonight, I want to feel those shoes on my arse when I wrap her legs around me.
This girl is brilliant. She drinks whiskey neat and can keep up with me through the restaurant and the few blocks back to the hotel, all while wearing those fuck-me heels. She’s perfect.
We practically run through the lobby. Our laughter filling the small alcove by the lifts as I skid to a halt. Lis’ skirt spins out around her, showing more of her gorgeous legs than I want to share with the men sitting at the hotel bar. Of course, she catches me staring them down over her shoulder.
“You going a little caveman on me?” she teases, winding her arms up around my neck. And my heart swells—amongst other things.
“Would that bother you? The last thing I want is to scare you away now that I have you.” I’m only half joking. Getting to this point was a hard-won victory.
I grip her hips, guiding her backward into the open lift, set to take advantage of our ride up when a hand slides between the closing doors. They bounce back open and two other couples step in. Since the tension and desire isn’t nearly thick enough between us, Lis tortures me by slowly swiping a fresh coat of gloss on her deep red lips.
It takes far too long to get to our floor.
Lis
Aidan climbs back in bed and pulls me tight to his side covering us with the crisp white duvet. The cool air in the room feels almost cold as it chills the fine sheen of sweat clinging to my skin. I nuzzle his chest painting it with kisses, and he settles my hand above his heart.
The past couple of days have been a roller coaster of emotions. My insecurities have more than gotten the best of me and I know I need to get them under control before they ruin this thing between Aidan and me. I’m getting better, stronger, and that can all be attributed to Aidan and his patience.
Never—never before—would I have been confident enough to flirt the way I did at the restaurant tonight. Licking whiskey off my finger, running my foot up and down his leg. I sure as hell did not need an extra layer of gloss on my lips in the elevator. That was all for him. For Aidan.
He has checked all the boxes. Every one of them would have a big old red check, if I had a list of things that a guy needed to do, to show, to complete in order to own my heart. He’s done them all. He has made me a priority at every turn. Always making sure that I’m okay, that I have what I need and then some.
Maybe he feels my brain working overtime, I don’t know. But he presses my hand firmly to his chest, the other hand twisting and sifting through my hair. Lulling me to sleep.