Jessica Lemmon - Hard to Handle

“Sadie,” Aiden grasped her hand. He’d touched her a lot tonight, and damned if she didn’t like it. “You have to know people work with you because of who you are, not because of your dating potential.”

She thought back to when she’d first encountered him at Axle’s. Aiden had offered to sign the contract if she went out with him. “And when you tried to bribe me into dating you?” she asked.

She didn’t know what answer she hoped for. While being bribed wasn’t flattering in the least, the idea that he’d done it because he wanted to date her was. And, she realized now, even if she hadn’t then, part of her wanted to date Aiden again. She’d enjoyed this evening with him. Enjoyed the way he touched her, was touching her now, like it was the most easy, natural thing. Enjoyed the way she’d kissed him, also the most easy, natural thing. She wanted this, she decided abruptly. Even if it was temporary.

Aiden dropped her hand and gripped his beer bottle in both of his. “That was—I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have done that.”

A more solid no could not have been uttered.

Disappointment settled on her shoulders, but she rolled them back, brushing it off, refusing to show it. She shouldn’t long to be closer to this man. She shouldn’t harbor any feelings for him. Not after everything he’d put her through, after everything she’d put herself through. But she wouldn’t get angry or pout because he didn’t say what she hoped he would.

“No, you don’t,” she said, meaning it. “If you apologized to me, I’d have to apologize to you. I got you to sign because I dared you to argue with me in front of Axle. Now you know my tricks,” she said, picking at the label of her bottle. “Looks and bribery.”

“Yeah right,” Aiden said, his voice flat. “Which is why you come to this party every year. Just to keep Rick as a client, string him along?”

She frowned.

“If that were the case, you’d still be dating him. And what about Axle’s? You do plenty of things that aren’t outlined by your contract. Like the extra hours you spend rearranging the shelves, or when you help sell merchandise to customers. And what about the front window display? That’s not something you do because you have to.”

He’d noticed. He’d noticed the way she’d been pouring herself into Axle’s, the work she’d done to ensure she left the store better than she found it. Her heart swelled the tiniest bit. She liked that Aiden noticed. And had pointed it out. It made her proud.

“And I know you’re not hanging out all those extra hours just to be near me,” he said.

That wasn’t entirely true. Sadie opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it and stayed quiet.

Aiden only winked at her. “Admit it.” He leaned in and bumped her shoulder with his. “You care.” He was close enough to kiss, his green eyes reflecting the firelight, his lips pursed slightly.

She did care. About her clients, about her friends. About Aiden. Maybe she’d never stopped caring. Eyes trained on his mouth, she found herself wanting to steal another kiss, but not the thank-you peck she’d stood on her tiptoes to give him earlier. A real one. With tongue and everything.

“And your customers know it.” Aiden said. He sat back in his chair and robbed her of his scent, of his attention.

Sadie made a tiny sound of protest in her throat. She covered it by coughing. Then she sat back in her chair, finished her beer, and considered drinking about four more of them.

Sadie said her farewells, endured a few more hearty congrats on her engagement—insert eye roll here—and walked with Aiden back to her car.

“I’ll drive.” He held out a hand for her keys.

“You played Flip Cup, too,” she said of the drinking game they were talked into at the last minute.

“Yes, and I was disqualified after one round.” Aiden lifted and dropped the front of his damp shirt. “I’m wearing more than I drank, trust me.”

“I didn’t have much more than you,” she said, yawning. The beer may not have her stumbling for the car, but it had made her tired. Or maybe she was tired because it was after midnight. Truly sad. She relinquished the keys and buckled up. After a few lingering seconds, she noticed the car hadn’t moved.

“Aiden?”

He was staring out the windshield. “I shouldn’t have told everyone we were engaged.” He turned his head but kept his grip on the steering wheel. I’m sorry. It was immature. It was…” He shook his head instead of continuing. Sadie started to interrupt and tell him it didn’t matter. She saw these people once a year. Next year when she arrived without Aiden in tow, she could easily pass it off like they’d broken up.

And why did that thought cause an echoing ache in the center of her chest?

“I was jealous,” Aiden admitted.

Sadie blinked at him. “Why?”

“Why?” Aiden reversed over the bumpy ground and navigated onto the drive. He spared her a wry glance before turning onto the road. “Because you went out with that guy. And you don’t hate him.”

Sadie heard what he wasn’t saying. “I don’t hate you.”

He remained quiet.

“I only went out with Rick for a few months…” She paused, understanding. She’d only gone out with Aiden for a few days and had fallen ass-over-teakettle in love with him. Suddenly she understood his concern. “Rick and me weren’t anything like you and me,” she murmured.

Never would she have shucked her bra and shirt in a steamy make-out session on the couch with Rick. And she never would have let Rick tuck her into his bed and hold her through the night. She wouldn’t have let anyone do the things Aiden had done with her. Only Aiden.

There went that ache again. She rubbed her breastbone.

Streetlamps above cast his face in light then shadow as he drove. “I guess we were different,” he said.

They didn’t say anything more on the way home, and despite Sadie trying to distract herself by flipping through the radio stations, she still felt the tension snapping between them.

Tension echoing a memory of the night they met, the night she’d invited him home with her. The night they’d spilled their guts, told their unflattering tales of woe. Sometime in the wee hours, she’d walked him to the door. She’d wanted to kiss him, to touch him, all evening. Instead they’d sat, their backs against opposite pieces of furniture, and talked.

He’d stepped outside, and leaned on the door frame, watching her. “I know you only do first dates,” he said. “But I don’t think this counts, do you?”

Her heart had kicked into overdrive. She’d decided earlier to toss out the rule and make an exception where Aiden was concerned. To hear he wanted the same thing was…thrilling. Almost as thrilling as the idea of getting to kiss him.

She’d played it cool, crossing her arms over her breasts and lifting an eyebrow. “I think we might be able to throw it out. You know, over a technicality.”

”Good,” he said. Without warning he brushed her lips with his, and she’d heard the low groan of approval in his throat. When he pulled away, he tweaked her chin and smiled. “I’m not nearly through with you, Sadie Howard.”

The car came to a stop and Sadie blinked back to present to find they had arrived at Axle’s. She gave herself a mental shake and reminded her brain not to dwell. Thinking about the past was dangerous. Going there risked her safety, her ability to wall off her emotions. Besides, memories of the past hurt. The memory of Aiden declaring he wasn’t through with her would only remind her of the day he called to tell her he was.

She’d spent a lot of time tonight thinking of Aiden, of all the good things they shared. If she wasn’t careful, she could get nostalgic enough to wind up braless and in his bed again. Heat pooled between her legs at the memory of his hot hands around her waist, his erection pressing into her backside as they slept. Intimacy but no sex. Who knew what a turn-on that could be?

And we don’t want to end up there again, she sternly reminded her inner Pussycat Doll.

Aiden turned off the engine and sent her a sideways glance. Sadie wondered what he’d been thinking about the entire time she’d sat here and thought about him.

The glint in his eye, the sexy curve of his lips, matched the expression on his face a year ago when he’d lingered in her doorway. Heart thudding heavily, she waited…waited and hoped and prayed he’d erase her mind with his tongue and the heat of his lips.

Aiden unbuckled his seat belt and leaned an elbow on the steering wheel, his bicep flexing in the pale moonlight. He locked her into place with his steady gaze. “I had a good time tonight.”

She gauged the distance over the console, the position of their bodies, and undid her own seat belt before turning her body slightly toward his. “So did I.”

Here it was. The dating dance. How many times had she been in this very position? Waiting for her date to dredge up the courage to lean in and kiss her, or trying to make her getaway before he did.

Though she didn’t remember Aiden having to steel himself to approach her. And she certainly hadn’t been planning on running. He had a way of busting through all her defenses before she realized she’d had a breach in security.

He glanced at her mouth. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Sadie nodded, licked her lips, and balled her fists together so tightly her fingernails bit into her palms. She wanted the kiss his eyes promised.

But instead of coming closer, Aiden leaned back, opened his door, and got out.

Got.

Out.

The driver’s side door shut with a whump! wobbling the car and leaving Sadie alone and thoroughly unkissed. Fury simmered on her brow. Why she was angry, she had no idea, and before she wondered at her own indignation, she’d already climbed out and slammed her own door.