I barely kept from rolling my eyes, feeling like myself again. “Bossy Aiden is back.”
“You like me bossy.” His gaze moved to the silent and sparkling tree.
Was that a public fact, or what?
Chapter 16
As darkness took over outside, I finished rapidly loading my fridge with goodies my mother had shoved in my hands when we’d escaped the Sunday family barbecue over in Silverville. “You’re a rat-fink bastard, Aiden Devlin,” I said, slamming my fridge for emphasis and turning to face him.
He paused in hanging up his jacket. “Try again.”
“No.” I put both hands on my hips, more than ready to go a round or two. “How could you tell my mother that I had a panic attack earlier today?” It was unthinkable. A betrayal of the highest order. I’d already kicked off my boots, but my jeans were loose and my sweater roomy. I could take him if I had to, and apparently I did. He had a lesson to learn. “Devlin?”
He shut the closet door and turned around, leaning against it. “I didn’t tell her about you being shot at.”
It was a good thing the stitches could be lost in my hairline with a lot of careful styling because we’d managed the entire barbecue without anybody noticing I’d been hurt. Well, except for the black eye and bruised cheekbone. But makeup had hidden most of that damage. “Yet you’re still a Judas.”
He crossed his arms. “Anna.” His reasonable tone was going to get him smacked.
I lowered my chin. “You waited. You waited until after our nice dinner and after everyone finished focusing on Quint and Heather.” Cousin Quint was pretty much in serious love. “You waited until my mom was packaging up leftovers. You waited until you had her alone and her attention.”
“Yep.”
I blinked and threw up my hands. “You b—”
“Call me a bastard again, and we’re going to have a problem,” he said mildly.
“Wealreadyhave a problem,” I said, not mildly. Not quietly, either. “Because of you, do you know what I have to do this coming week?” Now I gestured wildly. “See Cousin Wanda.”
He didn’t so much as blink.
“You did this on purpose,” I said slowly, finally catching up.
Again, no movement.
“You bas—”
“I wouldn’t.” His arms uncrossed. Why that was threatening and a little sexy, I’ll never understand. “You like seeing Cousin Wanda. She’s your shrink.”
I glowered. “You don’t get to dictate when I see her.”
Then he moved. Right at me, steady pace, firm gait. When I took two steps back, putting my butt against the counter, he kept coming. Right until we stood toe-to-toe. Then he planted both hands on either side of me and leaned down. “When you awaken having nightmares, stop breathing, and nearly give me a heart attack until you start breathing again, I do dictate when you see your shrink. Especially if you’re not smart enough to make your own appointment.”
His body was against mine. He had me slightly leaned back, and I couldn’t move. Not an inch.
I swallowed.
He lowered his head, his nose nearly touching mine. “Got it?”
“Got it,” I agreed quickly. Instinctively. I hadn’t realized I’d scared him. He’d been so calm and reassuring. “You’re being bossy again.”
“You like me bossy.” He placed a hard kiss on my lips and stepped back, giving me room.
I really had to do something about that rumor.
He glanced at the fridge. “Did your mom give us some of the pecan pie?”
“You know she did.” It was his favorite, so she always pretty much baked him his own when she made one. She had always liked Aiden, considering he’d saved my life, and he was Irish to boot. She didn’t like that his job was dangerous, but since mine kept turning out to be a little dangerous as well, she appreciated that he carried a gun and could take care of bad guys. “You know she has a secret dream that you’ll knock me up so I quit my job and raise little Irish babies without being shot at once in a while.”
