“It’s been great, champ! Thanks for the fabulous sausage-stuffing!”
No. I might not be the world’s greatest conversationalist, but even I know that’s a non-starter.
He murmurs, “Never met a woman who thinks louder than you do.”
“Sorry. I’m always up in my head.”
“You don’t have to apologize. Just making an observation. Tilt your head back.”
I obey him, closing my eyes and allowing him to rinse the shampoo from my hair. I lean against him with my arms wrapped around his waist and my breasts pressed against his chest and wonder again what Michael would think if he could see me now.
Which is when the guilt hits me, cold and solid as a brick dropped onto my head. A nasty little voice inside my mind starts hissing insults.
Your husband hasn’t been dead a full month yet, and you’ve already had sex with another man! How could you?
Aidan says softly, “Your body gets really tense when you start to freak out.”
I exhale and remain silent. There aren’t any words for what I’m feeling, anyway.
He reaches behind me to turn off the faucet. Then he palms my head and presses it to his chest. His other arm he wraps around me. We stand naked and dripping like that for a while, embracing in silence, until he says, “We can do anything or nothing. I don’t expect you to have any answers right now.”
How does he always know what I’m thinking?
Emotion threatens to swell my throat closed, but I speak around it. “What do you want to do?”
He gives me a squeeze and pronounces, “This, as much as possible.”
My laugh is soft. “That can be arranged.”
Stroking my wet hair, he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “You sure? I know your situation is complicated. I don’t want to make it worse.”
Without thinking, I say, “So far, you’re the only thing that’s made it better.”
I cringe when I hear how it sounds. How raw and vulnerable.
How needy.
But if Aidan thinks it’s off-putting, he doesn’t show it. He simply kisses my head again and murmurs, “Good.”
I raise my head and look at him. He gazes down at me with a faint smile, his eyes warm.
My voice wavering, I say, “Can I be honest with you?”
“That’s all I ever want you to be.”
“Okay. Well…” I inhale a breath, then let it go in a gust. “This has been amazing. I mean really amazing. Like, incredible. I don’t have any experience with this kind of thing, because I was married for a long time and pretty much always in a long-term relationship before that.”
When I don’t continue, he says, “Are you asking me something in particular or are you just thinking out loud?”
“I’m not sure. I’m having all kinds of feelings about this.”
“Me, too. You think this happens to me every day?”
I pull away and look him up and down, all that perfect rugged masculinity. “Yes.”
He pulls me back against him and cups my jaw in his hand. “No. It doesn’t.”
He stares at me with such unwavering intensity, I believe him. Nobody can lie that well this close.
I say, “Thank God,” and both of us are surprised by how forcefully it comes out.
Aidan starts to laugh. I blush from my neck to my forehead. He pulls me in and holds me tightly, nuzzling my ear. “Sweet bunny,” he whispers, still chuckling. “I think you like me.”
Flaming with embarrassment, I say, “Nah, I just need my roof fixed, and I thought I’d shag your brains out to see if I could get a discount.”
Pulling away, he pretends to be shocked. “I already gave you a discount!”
I grin up at him. “Oh, yeah. I forgot. Two thousand all in, right?”
He glowers, but he’s only playing. “Wrong. Ten thousand.”
“Wait, you said five!”
His glower cracks. He starts to laugh again.
I smack him lightly on the chest. “Jerk.”
“Guilty. What do you want for breakfast?”
“Don’t tell me you cook, too?”
“Only the best scrambled eggs you’ll ever eat.”
Smiling, I say, “I guess that’s what I’ll have then.”
He lowers his head and softly kisses me. When he pulls back, his expression has turned serious. “I need to tell you something.”
My stomach plummets. “Shit. I knew it was too good to be true.”
“It’s not bad.”
“Then why are you making that face?”