I went to thank him for purchasing my books and walking me back home, but what came out instead was, “Would you like to come in?” I had no idea where that came from. A part of me wanted to get away from this man as fast as I could. He both intrigued and intimidated me.
He stared down at me for a few heartbeats. His face remained set but I could feel an internal debate happening. “You live alone?”
Fidgeting with the bags in my hands, I nodded.
He gestured toward the door with his head and I moved to unlock it. He followed me inside, after saying something briefly to his guards who’d followed us up the stairs, then shut the door, locking us in.
Chapter Nine
Patience
I awoke the morning after our wedding feeling groggy. Probably due to the three glasses of champagne I’d had. I also blamed the champagne on my dreaming about the first night Aaron and I had ever spent together. That night after he walked me to the bookstore and then back home was the beginning of all of this. We talked…rather,Italked while Aaron listened about the books I’d bought, along with other authors I adored. How he didn’t get bored I’ll never understand, but he listened intently, all while scowling. By the second hour I came to realize that scowl was his natural face, save for certain moments. Like, when at close to one in the morning, he fell asleep on my couch. Just before I fell asleep against his chest, I noticed the softening of his eyebrows and lips. He truly was beautiful.
“Long time ago,” I reminded myself as I pushed the blanket off of me and got out of bed. I stood, stretching, and went to pick out a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt to do a few minutes of early morning yoga before the kids woke up. After about thirty minutes on my mat, which I’d brought with me when we moved into the house, I pulled out a sundress to wear for the day. It was moving toward the middle of summer in Williamsport and that meant sunny skies and possible humidity.
I showered, moisturized, and styled my hair in a french braid, then proceeded to get dressed. On the way out, I stopped by the children’s bedrooms, unsurprised to see Kyle’s bed empty. I knew he’d likely already gone downstairs. I went to Kennedy’s room to rouse her out of her sleep, which could be an ordeal.
“Wake up, baby,” I cooed, tickling her under her chin. It took a little while, but eventually Kennedy began giggling. “Let’s go, time for breakfast. Your brother’s probably eaten all the waffles by now,” I teased, especially since I hadn’t even made anything yet.
I led a still groggy Kennedy down the stairs by the hand, and made a right behind the stairs toward the kitchen. My nose was immediately hit by the aroma of something delicious. I stopped abruptly when I was confronted with a wide, sculpted bare back at the kitchen counter. My heartbeat quickened and I swallowed.
“Mommy, I have to go potty,” Kennedy whined, peeling my attention from her father.
“Go ahead. You know where it is,” I told her, pushing her toward the half-bathroom that was just off the kitchen. “And don’t forget to wash your hands!” I called.
That grabbed Aaron’s attention who glanced over his shoulder at me. We stared at one another for a long moment, but Kyle burst into the kitchen, breaking the hold his gaze had over me.
“I’m hungry!” he called before passing between us and making his way to the dining room table just beyond the kitchen. “Mommy, Daddy made pancakes!” Kyle informed me.
I’d already surmised as much.
Aaron remained speechless as he carried two plates over to the dining table, setting one down in front of Kyle before taking a seat at the head of the table.
“Kennedy’s and your plates are on the counter. We didn’t know when you’d awake.”
Glancing at the counter, I saw two covered plates, and stood there, dumbfounded. I didn’t know what to say while Aaron sat at the head of the table staring me down, and our son ate his pancakes as if this was an everyday occurrence for him.
“What’s that?” Kyle’s question broke our stare down.
I glanced down to see Kyle was staring at Aaron’s bare chest. I followed his gaze and saw it, too. The scars that lined his broad chest and upper torso. My eyes also flickered over the tattoo that had me perplexed since the first time I saw it. I pushed that image out of my head—the memory of him that night at The Cage. I looked over to Aaron to see his eyes locked on me and I realized he was remembering that night, too. My pussy muscles began to vibrate and I had to shake myself loose of his hold. I turned my eyes over to Kyle who was still staring at the scars on Aaron’s chest.
“Kyle, don’t be rude. We don’t ask people questions like that,” I admonished.
Kyle frowned my way.
“Myson,” Aaron’s booming voice disrupted the ensuing silence, “can ask me anything he wants.”
Our eyes latched onto one another’s again. Aaron effectively stared me down. My eyes narrowed, but I remained silent as he began to explain to Kyle.
“I was in a very bad accident as a child. These scars are a result of it.”
I shoved the memory of him explaining his accident to me to the back of my mind. It was much more than that, but he’s minimized the explanation for our five-year-old son.
“Oh, and what’s that?” Kyle inquired some more, this time pointing to the tattoo.
I bit my tongue.
Aaron ran a hand over the tattoo resting just over his heart. “This I’ll explain another time,” he stated, his eyes flicking over to me before moving back to Kyle.
