But the tug and ripple in my belly is separate.
It’s chemical. Organic. Not bred of any thankfulness or sense of obligation.
No, it might be the purest thing I’ve ever experienced.
What worries me more is the squeeze in my chest when we’re close.
I need to back away now. Make some excuse to go home, cut off the magic that is brewing around us relentlessly, making the red garland sparkle where it hangs above the coffee maker. Giving the Christmas lights a more romantic twinkling glow. My feet don’t even feel like they’re touching the floor. I knew I’d end up here again, feeling like I’d melt unless I kiss you.
“You have to say something, Stella,” he laughs softly, his eyes concerned. “Feels a lot like that first day of school, no clothes dream.”
He’s so vulnerable, standing there, having taken a leap and bared himself to me. I want nothing more than to reward him for that courage. I want to reward myself with him. But for what? I’m not right for this happy-go-lucky man. God, I’m all kinds of wrong. When I walk through the main floor of Vivant to use the bathroom or break room, the jewelry saleswomen guard the cabinets. They eye me up and down. They either know about my prison stint or they’ve decided there is something undeserving about me.
I’m barely out of Bedford Hills a month and I’m trying—I’m trying so hard to be a good person. The kind of person I always scoffed about growing up. I’ve gone straight. But I haven’t even proven to myself than I can do it yet. What if I’m fooling myself? What if I backslide? How many women did I meet while serving my time that were released, then ended up back inside? I’m not better than them. I’m one of them. I was there for a reason.
And now I’m out for a reason. One I haven’t had time to grasp yet.
Why does none of this seem to matter when he’s looking at me with his heart in his eyes? It takes me a moment to speak. To get enough air into my lungs to respond. “Paperwork…” I push through stiff lips. “I mean, that feels like a big step. Feels…official.”
He’s already nodding. “I know. If there was another way to try this, try us—”
“I know.”
“It’s more than making sure you’re not seeing me out of some misplaced sense of gratitude, Stella, even if that’s my main concern.” He gestures to himself in kind of an exasperated way. “I’m a rule follower, you know?”
“I do. And that’s okay. That’s good.”
“Rule follower,” he repeats, thoughtfully, his forehead knitting. As if something just occurred to him. “Stella. Can you do me a favor?”
I eye him dubiously. “What is it?”
“Name one other rule in the employee handbook. Besides the non-fraternization policy, I mean.”
Heat seeps out of my pores like molten metal, engulfing me.
I don’t know the other rules. I only skipped to that one. Oh God.
“Sorry, what?” My airways shrink to the size of licorice. “Can you repeat that?”
I don’t like the knowing smile that transforms his features. I don’t like it one bit, even though I experience my own relief that he’s no longer looking out to sea. Lost.
Mainly, I’m panicked.
Aiden takes a step forward and now I’m tipping my head back to meet his eyes, the rich male scent of him fuzzing up my brainwaves. “Name one rule in the handbook. Besides the one saying I can’t take you out. Can’t…” He drags his full bottom lip through his teeth, a low sound kindling in his throat. “…bring you home to bed. Without signing paperwork.”
Bed.
Aiden’s bed.
It would be amazing.
Big and sumptuous and heavenly. Especially with him in it.
“I, um…well, there’s the one rule that says…”
“The one that says employees must enter and leave through the rear entrance on weekends?”
“Right,” I say brightly, snapping my fingers between us. “That’s it. That’s the one.”
His eyes twinkle. “There’s no such rule in the handbook, sweetheart.”
Even as I glare up at him, I can’t be anything but impressed. He caught me. He caught me considering what could be between us, and now there’s significantly less restraint radiating from his body. A change that makes me nervous, while also making my toes curl in anticipation. Of what?
“Well played, Cook.” I place my hands on his chest with every intention of pushing us apart, but his pecs flex as if starved for my touch and his eyelids droop, his nostrils flaring, and I can’t remove my touch for the life of me. Now I’m just standing in the break room feeling up my boss, scrubbing my hands lightly up and over his hard slabs of muscle, then back down, watching him enjoy the treatment so openly, so eagerly. “Fine, you caught me, okay?” I try to swallow the choppiness in my voice. The arousal. “I was curious.”
“About us,” he clarifies, studying me. “If it could happen.”
Despite warning signals from the back of my mind, I hum in affirmation and he grins the grin of a lifetime. It’s so gorgeous and bright, transforming every one of his features, I almost liquify in the face of it. “Maybe,” I whisper. “But I-I’m not paperwork curious.”
His expression doesn’t dim a single watt. “If you don’t mind, Stella, I’ll be sticking around until you are.”
He leans down and kisses my forehead, tucking a loose wisp of hair behind my ear. Then his eyes take one last lap around my face and he takes my hand, guiding me out of the break room. He leaves me outside the entrance to the storage room where I’ve been working most of the week, emerging a few seconds later with my purse and jacket. He holds the puffer open so I can slide my arms into the holes and I can’t help but savor it. The first time anyone has ever held my coat for me.
“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” he asks, his vibratory thrum just beside my temple.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what you meant by ‘sticking around.’ That could mean anything, really. Are you threatening to woo me or something? I don’t get—”
“Stella,” he interrupts with a smile in his voice. “I meant how are you feeling about unveiling the window in the morning.”
My face has to be magenta. “Oh. Sure.” I duck my head under the guise of lining up the zipper of my jacket. “A combination of nervous and…more nervous. Mostly.” When I straighten, his curiosity and patient attention on my face makes me want to say more. “But no matter what happens, I’ll know I didn’t take shortcuts or pass on any ideas because they were too hard. I’ll know it was my best effort. I have the sore lower back to prove it.”
He makes a sympathetic noise, circling around the back of me. Before I can guess his intention, he slips his hand beneath my jacket and runs a firm thumb up the center of my lower spine. My shameless moan is echoing off the walls of the main floor of Vivant. “If only we had the proper paperwork filed. I’d be taking you home for more of this.” His thumb digs in, circling on top of my sore muscles. It feels so good, my vision doubles, my neck falling back on my shoulders. “I’d do my part. A hot bath would do the rest.” From behind, he rests his mouth on my ear, his hand settling on my waist very briefly, squeezing. “Tell me you want to hear what would happen next, Stella. Give me permission to say it.”