His Reward Read online

  Then he looks away and lowers my leg all the way to the ground. No more lap cushions for me.

  “How does it feel?” he asks in a tight voice.

  I stand and take a few experimental steps. The soft twinge of soreness should fade in a couple days.

  “I’ll survive.”

  He nods. “Good.”

  He quickly gathers up the swabs and other stuff, avoiding my gaze. So I grab his arm.

  “Aiden.”

  He looks at me, waiting.

  I liked it. I liked it when you kissed my foot. Please put me out of my misery and kiss my lips next.

  I rub my lips together. “Thank you.”

  He nods again and heads back to the bathroom. I wobble over to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the fridge like I intended to do before I was attacked by that glass shard.

  When Aiden returns he seems like his old carefree self. It must be nice to be over what happened in the living room so quickly. Meanwhile, I’m still replaying the moment in my head.

  “So, here are our options for dinner tonight: frozen pizza, grocery shopping, ordering in.” He leans against the fridge and folds his arms. “What say ye, my lady?”

  “No to the first two. That pizza has been in the freezer for months. And it’s evening. The store will be packed with people getting off work.”

  “We can order Thai. The green curry was pretty good last time.”

  “Or… we can go out?” I smile. “I want to buy you dinner to thank you for the other night.”

  “You don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. I was just doing my job.”

  “OK. Then you can buy me dinner.”

  He smiles. “Do you have a special place in mind you want to go?”

  No. But there’s a special place in mind I want you to go.

  I bite my lips together and shake my head.

  “You choose.”

  Seven

  Going out to dinner means looking your best.

  So, of course I do my makeup perfectly. Of course, I spend more time than usual styling my hair. Of course, I choose my tight black jeans that make my ass look stellar, and my red sleeveless top with the strappy, seductive criss-cross over my cleavage.

  Spritzing some of the expensive perfume I reserve for special occasions by my neck and boobs doesn’t mean I’m hoping for someone to press their face there. And I’m not expecting anyone to see the pair of sexy lacy panties under my jeans either.

  It’s a shame I can’t wear heels because they would have made the ensemble killer. But they’re out because of the cut under my left foot. Ballet flats will have to do.

  Surveying myself in the mirror, I know I look good. But do I look good enough?

  For what?

  I scowl at my reflection.

  That treacherous bitch staring back at me knows the truth. This is for Aiden’s attention. This is me taking Maeve’s advice to seduce him.

  “Nat, you ready?” Aiden calls from downstairs. Then he adds in an amused voice. “Let’s try to get there before they close the kitchen.”

  Let’s do this. I take a deep breath, grab my purse and leave my bedroom. My heart beats quicker, my arms and legs shaky. Aiden and I have gone out to eat together a million times. Why is this any different?

  Aiden is at the bottom of the stairs. He looks up, his gaze riveted on me as I descend. His intense stare and unreadable expression throws the flutters in my stomach into deeper chaos. I would pay all the pennies for the tiniest glimpse into his thoughts right now.

  “What?” I ask when I’m standing in front of him. I look down at myself then up at him, sweeping my hair back from my face. “Too much?”

  “Not at all.” His voice is low. “You look amazing.”

  On the inside, I’m doing cartwheels of joy. On the outside, I flash a smile as if I’m totally unaffected by his compliment.

  “You look great too,” I say. And I mean it. His charcoal grey jacket hugs his broad shoulders, his black t-shirt isn’t tight but there’s no hiding the firm pecs under it, and his dark blue jeans are a perfect fit.

  As we leave the house and head for his car parked in the driveway, Aiden’s gaze burns my bare skin from behind. His attention is exactly what I wanted, but the reality leaves me so hyperaware I can’t think straight.

  My plan to follow Maeve’s advice tonight will blow up in my face if I’m not careful. I have to vent some of this nervous energy.

  “So, where are we going?” I ask as we pull out of the driveway.

  “Beaver Bush.”

  “What?” I laugh. “A thirteen-year-old boy must have come up with that name.”

  He chuckles. “Yeah, the name is terrible but the food is excellent. I had a lot of fun nights there when I lived in Lakeshore many years ago.”

  “Must have been nice living in Lakeshore. Amazing view of the lake and close to the cool spots in the city. Did you live near enough to walk to the summer festival?”

  “Ah, the yearly ShitFest.” He shakes his head. “Forget about taking a nice bike ride or a stroll on the path. Cars everywhere. Too many people, most of them drunk.”

  “My friends and I go just to watch people get totally wasted. The drama is better than any TV show. Every year, there’s a catfight.”

  “Every year, someone gets stabbed. Or shot.”

  I smile. “This might sound absolutely crazy but I get the sense you don’t like ShitFest.”

  “To be fair, I don’t like any crowd of humans who have been consuming too much alcohol.”

  “OK. Consider yourself uninvited to my next birthday party.”

  “You’re nineteen. You’d still be too young to drink at your next birthday party.”

  “Yeah, well, my fake ID card disagrees, Officer Myers.” I purse my lips. “I’m old enough to get married or convicted of a crime as an adult, but not old enough to drink if both of those things happened.”

  He shrugs. “Neither of those things are going to happen, so you don’t need to worry about not being able to drink if they did.”

  “How do you know I’m not getting married or wrapped up in illegal business?”

  “Are you engaged or wrapped up in illegal business?

  “No, but I could be.” I smile. “A year from now someone might put a ring on it. Someone who’s also a criminal.”

  Aiden’s smile rapidly fades, his grip on the steering wheel tightens.

  “A year from now, you’ll still be too young for marriage too.”

  I scowl, my good mood waning. “What’s up with you? Why do you keep harping on how young I am and telling me what I can and can’t do? I’m still an adult.”

  “I know that—”

  “And you might think I’m too young for marriage, but I’m definitely old enough to do all the things wives do with their husbands.”

  My face grows hot as soon as the last word leaves my mouth. Aiden glances at me before returning his gaze to the road.

  He says nothing in response and I’m grateful for that. I mean, what else can he say after I basically announced I’m old enough to fuck?

  The remainder of the drive to the restaurant goes by in tense silence. The only sound between us is the soft purr of the car’s engine and the gentle rumble of the tires rolling along the floor.

  My frowning reflection stares back at me through the window. I’m not sure who I’m mad at the most.

  Is it at Aiden for reminding me I’m too young to legally drink because it also reminds me I’m too young for him? Or at myself for believing I had a shot at him in the first place?

  At last, we arrive at the restaurant and discover a rare find: the last available parking spot. Aiden shuts off the car.

  “Nat, I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “I’m not upset.”

  “She says while moodily staring out the window with her arms folded.”

  I unfold my arms and turn to face him. A small smile plays on his lips.

  “I was
a jerk,” he says.

  “You were.”

  “You’re an adult woman.”

  “I am.”

  His gaze sweeps over me. “And I can see that.”

  I blush. “Good.”

  “I got a little irritated when you said you could be married in a year.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s true. It won’t be long before some lucky son-of-a-bitch finds you and takes you away from me.”

  Then be that lucky son-of-a-bitch and take me for yourself.

  I muster up the courage to say it. I even open my mouth to let the words flow. But he pats my leg and deepens his smile. The moment to speak the truth flutters away.

  “Come on. Let’s go have some fun.”

  Eight

  Beaver Bush is crammed full.

  When Aiden and I finally get a seat, it’s too close to the karaoke speakers. The off-key singing is loud as hell combined with the cacophony of conversations coming from every direction.

  The positive is that physical boundaries are tossed right out the window. Aiden and I are forced to sit really close and lean in to hear each other.

  I’m bombarded by his warmth and the intoxicating earthy scent of his cologne. His lips and his soft breath move against my ear every time he says something to me, and the backs of my naked arms shiver.

  I can’t believe I’m getting aroused from his simple questions like how are the sweet potato fries? They’re fricking good, Aiden. So good, they’re making me wet.

  Is he affected by my nearness too? Sometimes, when I smile at something he says, his gaze fall to my mouth.

  And sometimes when he looks at me, it’s with half-lidded eyes and a secretive smile on his lips like he’s thinking about something dirty.

  Across from us, a guy from another table smiles at me again when our gazes accidentally connects.

  It’s the third time it’s happened. I’m starting to think that the guy is just staring at me, waiting for me to turn my head in his direction.

  The first two times it happened, Aiden and I joked about it. This third time, Aiden loops his arm over the back of my seat and sweeps his hand down my arm.

  Oh my god. That’s like an unspoken she’s mine message from one man to the other, right?

  But I’m really quick at reading more into things and I’m desperate for confirmation bias. It feels possessive but maybe for Aiden it’s just protective.

  Still, my brain cells have lost coordination. There’s no room for any other thought. Every part of me is focused on Aiden’s hand on my arm. His palm, all five of his fingers, his thumb rubbing back and forth across my skin.

  He leans in, his low voice filling my ear.

  “Ready to go?”

  Yes, please. Get me the hell outta here before I fling myself at you in public like a thirsty dog.

  I quickly nod in silence.

  Outside, the quiet night welcomes us like a comforting hug after the chaotic noisiness we endured in the pub.

  “It’s different,” Aiden says, frowning at the pub’s entrance. “There used to be pool tables instead of karaoke.”

  “The food was really good like you said, though.”

  “I’m glad that didn’t change.” He jerks a thumb across the street. Past the grassy slope, the dark lake stretches out into the distance. “Want to take a walk on the path?” He glances at my foot. “If you’re up to it.”

  I smile. “I’m up to it.”

  We cross the road and head down the slope onto the winding path. Streetlights casts pools of yellow on the cement paving, chasing most of the darkness back to the lake. The short, metal railing and half a foot of stone edging is the only protection from stumbling into the inky water.

  As we walk, the lake and the night swallow the sounds from the street above. Cars fade into a distant rumble, our footsteps tapping on the path and the gentle lap of the lake water against the stone magnified in the quiet.

  A breeze sweeps by carrying the lake’s fresh, muddy scent. The chill makes me regret wearing a sleeveless top. Abruptly, Aiden reaches for my hand and pulls me closer to his side.

  A guy on a bike rockets by a moment later, no helmet or pads in sight.

  “Idiot,” Aiden grumbles under his breath.

  We resume walking but he doesn’t release my hand. Once again, all of me is focused on our physical connection.

  This giddy, lightheaded feeling is probably what it was like in the old days when holding hands with a guy was a Pretty Big Deal.

  It feels like a Big Deal. You know what all of this is starting to look like? With the dinner, late night stroll, and hand holding?

  A date.

  This is not a date, stupid.

  It is so a date.

  A date is only a date if both parties on said date agree it’s a date.

  If it looks like a date, feels like a date, and quacks like a date, then it’s a fricking date.

  “How deep do you think is the lake?” I say, hoping to squash the bickering voices in my head.

  Aiden leads us to the railing. He releases my hand and I instantly miss his warmth. He grips the railing’s edge and looks out over the lake.

  “Funnily enough, a coast guard buddy of mine told me the answer. He said its average depth is about fifty fathoms. So, three hundred feet. The deepest it gets triples to about nine hundred feet.”

  I stare into the thick darkness below. “It’s so scary but I kind of want to jump in.”

  “Resist the urge.”

  I look at Aiden. “Because I’ll drown since it’s dark and cold and I suck at swimming?”

  “And you’ll get eaten.”

  My eyes widen. “By what?”

  “The sea monster.”

  “Oh.” I laugh in relief. “You had me there for a second. I almost thought you were going to say piranhas.”

  “I’m not joking.” And yet amusement gleams in his eyes. “Old timers say there’s a giant sea snake lurking in the depths, waiting for fresh food to fall in the lake.” He leans closer and lowers his voice. “And it prefers beautiful young women.”

  I’m warm with pleasure because Aiden just called me beautiful. However the glow is dampened by the chill when another gust of cold lake air slaps me in the face.

  “Oof.” Trembling, I take a step back from the railing. Aiden takes off his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. His heat and his scent swaddles me in an embrace I never want to leave. I tilt my head up and smile at him. “Thanks.”

  He nods once but he doesn’t let go of the jacket’s lapels. He doesn’t step back either. When his gaze lowers to my lips, my smile recedes at the same speed as my heart rate increases.

  He gently tugs on the jacket, guiding me closer. I lay my hands against his chest, and he loops his around my waist, pulling me flush against him.

  The streetlight casts an amber glow on the top of his head, lightening his dark curls to chestnut. His eyes are as dark as the lake, their intensity stealing my breath.

  “Stop me,” he says as he lowers his head. But why the hell would I do that when this is exactly what I’ve wanted all week?

  My stomach clenches at the first brush of his lips against mine. Then that brush turns into a full press that leaves me heady from shock that this is really happening.

  Aiden and I are kissing.

  He licks the seam of my lips and between my legs tighten as if he touched me there as well. I lift up on my toes, ignoring the mild pain in my foot.

  Clinging to his shirt, I open my mouth, eager to taste him. His tongue slides past my parted lips and touches mine.

  He groans softly and tightens his grip around me as he deepens our kiss. I tremble from the force of warmth and need surging—

  “Get a room!”

  Loud, obnoxious laughter yanks Aiden and I out of our moment. We separate immediately. Two girls and a guy saunter past us down the path. One of the girls look over her shoulder at us with a smirk.

  Embarrassment and anger boils insid
e me. I want to shove them over the railing into the lake.

  “We should head home,” Aiden says, his voice and features devoid of emotion.

  He doesn’t hold my hand as we walk back to the car in thick silence.

  Nine

  From my laptop’s speakers, Lana Del Rey’s seductive voice fades on the ending notes of Carmen.

  When Charli XCX comes on next and starts crooning about the sound her heart makes when she’s around the person she likes, I make a face.

  Too soon. Too relatable.

  I switch to the next song.

  It’s another melody about a woman hoping for the guy she likes to return her feelings someday.

  Ugh. If only I could tell this fictitious lady it’s never going to work out. He’ll give her a little hope then immediately snatch it away. She’ll be worse off than when she started.

  Scowling, I close my music app and continue painting my toenails magenta in silence. My phone rings a short moment later.

  “Brian and I are picking you up at nine,” Maeve says as soon as I answer the call.

  I frown. “For what?”

  “For Sherika’s party?”

  “Oh.” I pause. “I’m not going anymore.”

  “What?” she explodes. “Why?”

  “I just don’t feel like it.”

  “Why?”

  I roll my eyes. “Are you going to ask me why after every answer?”

  “I will until you give me good answers.”

  My irritation rises. “But I did! What more do you want?”

  “The truth. Two weeks ago you were excited to go. Suddenly, you’re not. You’ve been moody and bitchy lately too. What’s going on?”

  “I’m on my period.”

  “Try again,” she says in a bored voice.

  “I’m doing keto. I’m mad I can’t eat bread.”

  “Well, I guess you’re dropping several pounds with all that bullshit coming out of your mouth, babe.”

  I snort and then laugh. Maeve laughs too. My irritation fades away and I sigh.

  “Remember that crush I told you about?”

  “Professor Sutherby, right?”

  “For the last time, it’s not Professor Sutherby!”