What if we couldn’t? What if we didn’t work if we lived in the same space for too long? I couldn’t imagine life without him, and that was saying a lot for me. Playing the field had never been my thing, and there was nobody on the planet who compared to Aiden Devlin. Which meant it would suck if we broke up, and with our lives and jobs, nothing was for certain. I should do the smart thing and try to protect myself a little from heartbreak.
“You’re not dating somebody else,” Aiden said, brushing snow off my shoulder and apparently reading my mind. “Neither one of us has time to balance or deal with that type of situation, and I don’t want it, anyway. It’s you and me, and we’ll figure out if we can make sense of us without a lot of drama or anybody else involved.”
Now I lifted an eyebrow. I was an independent and adventurous woman, but oddly enough, I liked his bossy side. Even enjoyed the sense of feeling safe when he was in control of a situation. Yet I couldn’t let him get away with too much. “I’ll let you know what I decide about that,” I said, unzipping my coat and dropping more snow to the tiled entryway.
“You do that.” He helped me out of the snow covered wool and hung it on the peg near the door, his strong hands pulling my hair free and his warm fingers brushing against my nape.
A shiver took me and I couldn’t hide it. He could undo me with just one touch, and I didn’t like giving him that much power. Although I did like that one touch. So I ducked my head and toed off my boots, holding his good arm for balance. I was young, smart, professional, and should be playing the field and having fun. But since the sexiest, most dangerous, Irish badass on the planet had found his way into my bed and my heart, why waste time on anybody else? I sighed.
His chuckle eased the rest of the tension from my body. “Come on. I brought pizza and wine. I don’t want to talk about either of our cases or jobs tonight—all of that can wait until morning, considering it’s Saturday tomorrow. For now, let’s relax, eat too much pizza, and then sleep in.” He turned and strode for the kitchen, his Glock nestled in his waistband against his lower back.
He never wore his gun on his body while at either of our homes.
Yeah. That tension and stress returned. Fast.
Chapter 8
Aiden hogged the bed. Considering he was a solid two-twenty-five of muscle packed into about six feet and four inches of height, I guess he needed more space than I did. Morning came, and I rolled over in my small area to face him. It was rare that I awoke before him, so I took a few moments to drink my fill.
Soft morning light cascaded through the blinds on the sliding glass door to my small deck.
He lay facing me with the blankets shoved down to his waist. His muscled chest held various scars from his time on the streets, in the military, and then with the ATF. The scruff along his jaw was growing out, and a multitude of bruises led down his arm and neck to the bandage that was light against his bronze skin. His breathing remained even, and I fought the urge to trace both his straight nose and those ripped abs that led down beyond the covers. He stirred and opened his long dark lashes, awakening.
Blue. His eyes were a mixture of impossible blues, sharp and alert instantly.
I swallowed.
His gaze wandered lazily over my face and down my chest, covered by a pink nightie I’d purchased on sale the week before. He reached and grasped my arm, rolling onto his back with a smooth motion and pulling me on top of him. Then he brushed my hair back with both hands, his body solid rock beneath me. “Mornin’.” His Irish brogue came out strong.
“Hi.” I could look at those blue eyes all day, and from the feel of him beneath me,allof him was wide awake.
Aiden liked mornings. Aiden really liked naked mornings that lasted for hours, and I knew this from personal experience. So when he didn’t immediately try to remove my nightie, my body stiffened.
“You good?” he asked.
I nodded. “I’m good.”
The night before, we’d talked about nothing over pizza and wine before watching an old action movie. I’d even forced thoughts about my stalker to the abyss, so I could just enjoy one normal night with him. Then we’d tumbled into bed, and he’d been asleep within minutes.
He shifted his weight, brushing an impressive erection against me. “No complaints about my job?”
I frowned, trying to concentrate on his words and not his hard body. “Well, I wouldn’t mind it if you dodged the bullets next time.” His hands around my face kept me in place, or I’d lean down and kiss him. What was going on in his head? I lifted my gaze from his tempting mouth to his sizzling eyes that were watching me so carefully. “Am I supposed to complain?”
His focus moved to my mouth, and I swear, my bottom lip swelled in anticipation. “I don’t know,” he said.
Ah. I got it. He’d dated other women before me, and they hadn’t liked the distance. I shrugged, moving my breasts against his chest and enjoying the heated flare in his eyes. “If you like your job, I like your job,” I whispered. “So long as we’re on the same page, we can make anything work.”
His thumbs caressed my cheekbones. “I don’t love your job.”
I grinned. “I know, but it has been fairly mundane all autumn, so perhaps the winter will be calm as well?”
“Right,” he said, shaking his head. “Let’s not tempt fate.”
Fair enough. “I’m glad you’re home,” I said.
His mouth curved. “Me, too. I have to ask, why did you keep the roses?”
It was a reasonable question, and I knew he was just curious. “They were too pretty to throw out, and I thought I’d take them to the hospital on the way to a reading of a will today.” I wriggled against him. “Do they bother you?”
