It’s been too damn long, and my mind is spiraling. Attraction like this is a dangerous game for someone like me. It’s been four years since I’ve been with anyone. Four years of cold showers and falling asleep to the company of my own right hand. Now my mind’s conjuring images I have no business entertaining—Lucy beneath me, her hair splayed across my pillow, those innocent eyes clouding with pleasure as I?—
“Do you think she’ll make some extra scones for us?” Islapipes up from the backseat, cutting through my inappropriate thoughts like a bucket of ice water.
Thank Christ.
“Maybe.”
Or maybe I’ll just steer clear of the café altogether and save myself the trouble. Mum can take her instead. I don’t need to get tangled up in anything, and I’ve got more than enough on my plate between the long weeks offshore and raising Isla. It’s predictable. Controlled. Safe. Just the way I like it.
But the image of Lucy’s smile lighting up her face like a damn sunrise won’t leave my thoughts. The way her cheeks flushed under my gaze, like she was unsure how to handle my attention but didn’t mind having it at all. It made me want to…smile? Say something that could keep her talking just a bit longer?
Ridiculous.
I rub my hand over my face, scowling at the notion. I can’t let her sweetness get under my skin. It’s like stepping too close to a fire just to feel its heat. She could burn me down without even trying. My life, my focus, my very self, all at risk of being consumed.
And yet, every fiber of my being wants to step closer, anyway.
eleven
LUCY
Sunday.Finally. My favorite day of the week.
I genuinely love my work, but there’s something undeniably magical about Sundays. It’s the calm before the chaos and a perfect excuse to slow down and just breathe.
I usually start with a mental list of everything I need. A quick grocery run, maybe a stop at the farmers’ market for fresh blooms to brighten up the flat, and then some time in the kitchen to prep for the week ahead.
I like slipping into the grocery store before most people have even put on real pants. There’s something strangely soothing about the silence, a handbasket, and the power of choosing produce no one else has pawed at yet.
I’m lost in my own head, scanning the pile of avocados when I spot the perfect one. Just as I reach, my hand collides with another larger, calloused one.
“Oh!” I jerk back so fast I nearly fumble my basket. “Sorry, you go ahead.”
It’s the spark that shoots through me when that foreign hand brushes against mine that stops me in my tracks. It’squick, like a static shock, yet strong enough to send a wave of heat up my arm. My breath catches as I glance up, and there they are—those slate gray eyes I’ve been trying not to think about, staring back at me.
Aidan’s brows lift slightly, and for a second, I catch the same flicker of surprise that’s coursing through me cross his face. What are the chances?
Well…I guess in a town this small, the odds are actually pretty decent. Still, of all the people I could have bumped into while grabbing milk and bread, it had to be him? This broody, gorgeous guy who completely rattles me?
I’m caught between wanting to say something clever and pretending I didn’t just feel that undeniable spark when his hand brushed against mine. But if I’m being honest, my brain isn’t exactly firing on all cylinders right now.
“Lucy.” My name on his lips in that deep voice leaves me momentarily breathless.
I manage to force a smile even though my heart is doing somersaults in my chest. “Hi! Fancy meeting you here.”
He quirks a brow, his gaze darting to the avocado we were reaching for, then back to me. There’s a trace of amusement in his eyes.
I laugh nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as if that could somehow calm the heat creeping up my cheeks. “Great minds, right?”
He picks up the avocado, turning it over in his hand before offering it to me. “You take it.”
Our fingers brush again as I reach for it, and it’s like my whole body is suddenly hyperaware. The touch is brief, hardly even a graze, but my skin hums like it’s been charged. “Thanks,” I say softly.
I glance around, searching for Isla to ease the tension. “Oh, hey. Where’s your shadow?”
The question slips out casually, but inside, I’m spiraling. This isn’t like me. I can chat up a stranger or banter with a grumpy regular at the café without missing a beat. Instead, I’m a puddle of nerves, all because of one infuriatingly handsome man who completely throws me off balance.
“She’s with my mum. I can’t get any actual shopping done when she’s with me.”
