“Now you can cut the act and tell me how you’ve really been,” Aiden says, leaning back on my sofa, his body angled toward me.
"I'm good," I lie as I took a big gulp from my now half-full wine glass.
“You know it’s my job to look for signs of deception, right?” he muses, tapping my knee with his foot.
“Okay, Detective.” I sigh. “I’m good, but I’m also not.” I nod toward the brown paper envelope he placed on my coffee table before sitting down. “And I’m hoping you can help allay my fears about whatever the hell this mess with Gavin and Barrett is all about.”
“I can, but before we get to that. There is another reason why I’m here in person.”
Tilting my head, I study him for a spell. Trying to get a read on him. “Why?”
“I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.”
"Is this a conversation that will require more wine?" I say with a nervous laugh before finishing my glass. I lean forward and nab the wine bottle from the coffee table, topping us both up until the bottle is empty.
“Will we actually talk though? Because usually we get waylaid and just skim the surface of things we've both been avoiding. It's getting to the stage where we need to stop circling each other and talk things through." He places his glass on the table and shifts closer, lifting his hand to cup my cheek. His words are cryptic but also not. I know this man, and whatever Aiden tells me can't be anything worse than what happened a week ago. Aiden would never deceive me the way Barrett did. This is Aiden, the man I should already be deliriously happy and in a relationship with, if only he didn't live over 800 miles away.
“I seem to have a newly discovered appreciation for honesty,” I reply, earning a raised brow. He pins me in place with a telling stare.
“You finally going to tell me what happened in Vegas?”
“Do you really want to know?” I counter.
“When it comes to you, Aly. I want to know everything. How can you not know that already.”
I take in his soft, soulful green eyes, his dark blond hair, and perfectly sculpted lips that right then, I want to kiss more than anything. I nod, biting my lip as I muster up the courage to splay myself open to this man. “I’ll tell you, but I’m gonna need you to take off your detective hat for a while and just be my friend."
“Not sure I can be just anything with you.”
“Me either,” I confess, and it’s true. When other things around me right now are uncertain and unknown, Aiden has always been the complete opposite. He’s sure, he’s proven, and I know that what you see is what you get with him. He’s been that way since the night we first met. There’s also the fact that he’s here, despite telling me he wouldn't be back up this way for another month.
As if he senses the shift in me, he hooks an arm under my knees and carefully lifts my legs to rest in his lap. Then he starts drawing maddeningly light circles with his fingers over my skin. And with my wine glass in hand, I begin to relay the events of last week. The whole 'boy meets girl in first class, boy tracks girl down and sweeps her off her feet, boy turns out to be the paid lackey of girl's soon-to-be stepfather' story.
While I talk, he never once stops stroking my legs, his fingers moving to the soles of my feet and kneading the tension out of them. He may not interrupt me, but I don't miss his reactions to the things I say either. His jaw tightens when I mention the date on the rooftop, his body goes rigid when I recount the overheard conversation between Barrett and Gavin after the proposal, and anger radiates off of him when I get to the part of the story when Barrett tracked me down at the hotel.
I take a deep breath and slowly exhale when I finish talking because saying it all out loud makes it all the more real. It also makes me realize just how much of an idiot I was for letting lust and my body make decisions for me, overriding my well-educated, usually clicked-on brain and leaving me vulnerable to Barrett’s manipulation.
“So I guess you can say I was naïve and cock dumb,” I say, turning to look out my window and over Puget S0und.
Aiden’s quiet for a long time before he speaks, and when he does, it’s the very last thing I expect him to say. “Barrett Matthews does not exist.”
My head snaps faster than a bullet. “What? He must exist. I saw him. I fucking touched him!” I say sharply. “He gave me a business card. The flight attendant on the plane knew him.” My heart is punching my ribs now, my voice louder and higher. I jump up off the couch and stalk over to my computer bag, wrenching it open to get to my laptop. I’ll prove it. I’ll google search him. Then I’ll know that Aiden is mistaken and I’m right. Because I have to be. There’s no way Barrett could fool that many people…
“Beautiful . . .” Aiden says, putting his hands on my hips and turning me around to face him. “You can’t find something that isn’t there. That man was not Barrett Matthews. It’s an alias. A cover. Whatever it is, that is not his name.”
It's then, after a week of holding everything in and bottling it up, compartmentalizing my stupidity and self-loathing into a small, well-buried box inside of me, that I lose it. My head drops forward, colliding with Aiden's chest. His hands move around my hips and down to my ass before he lifts me and carries me back over to the couch. He repositions us and sits down with me in his lap, holding me close as I cry into his chest, stroking my hair and letting me fall apart.
“Tomorrow, Aly, we’re going to talk.”
“Tomorrow,” I mumble sleepily as he continues to comfort me. Before too long, my exhaustion takes hold and I fall asleep in his arms.
I wake up to the smell of coffee. Opening my eyes, I turn my head to the kitchen to see a bare-chested Aiden standing at the counter, a coffee mug at his mouth and his eyes on me, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."
“Hi,” I reply softly as I stretch my arms up above my head. “Sorry I fell asleep last night. Actually, sorry for losing it, too.”
He places his cup on the counter and walks over to me, sitting down next to me. I roll onto my side to face him and sigh as he loops a loose strand of my hair back behind my ear, gliding his fingers gently down to my neck before resting his palm on my shoulder. Such a tactile display was not unheard of between us, but the response I have to it is somehow amplified. For the first time, I’m realizing the significance of his touch and the way he makes me feel.
It reminds me of the same effect Barrett had on me the weekend before. Last night, finding out that Barrett—or whoever he was—had given me a false name, made me question every single thing I’d felt between the two of us in the twenty-four hours I’d known him.
All week I've been confused and uneasy but last night, with Aiden there with me, I felt safe. He's familiar and has always been there; I just haven't seen it—or let myself see it.
I reach my hands up and cup his jaw, pulling his head down to mine and gently brushing my mouth against his before touching my tongue to his lips. Pushing him back slightly, I look into his eyes and see the depth of feeling in them. Aiden moves, dipping his head down again for a much-needed second round. It’s a long kiss, one I savor and lose myself in, his tongue slowly sliding over mine as he teases and takes over and over again. My fingers grip his shoulders, my nails biting into his skin as we deepen the kiss.
When he eases back, he keeps his face close to mine, our breaths intermingling as we recover and steady our breathing. “We didn’t get to talk last night,” I whisper.
“No. You needed sleep and I felt better knowing you were doing it in my arms.”
“Aiden . . .” This time my voice is rough and full of meaning.
“We’ve got time, Aly,” he says, reassuringly. “I’m going to help you find out exactly what happened last weekend and why it happened to you. And while I’m doing that, I’m also going to show you what you mean to me and how good we are together.” He stops to give me another gentle kiss. “And then we’ll talk.”
For the rest of the weekend, Aiden and I talk through everything that happened with Barrett. He questions me like he would do with any other victim in an investigation. The difference this time is that he has a vested interest involved—me. I watch his reactions to my recollection, noting every time his jaw tenses and he grinds his teeth. He definitely doesn’t like hearing about Barrett’s visit to my hotel suite—both before the restaurant and again, when he tracked me down afterward.
By the time Aiden has to leave late Sunday night to go back home, I realize it’s the most we’ve ever spent together at one time and—funnily enough—the first time we’ve ever spent longer than a few hours together without ripping each other’s clothes off and losing ourselves between the sheets.
This time seems different. The intimacy between us is still there, but it's stronger and so much more intense. It's like Aiden has a new determination to show me he wants more than our casual hookups. If I'm being honest with myself, he has been trying to show me that every time. It’s just that now, I'm taking notice and realizing that I want it as much as he does. It's like I've been blind to something that's been right in front of me the whole damn time.
I know I'm still raw from Barrett and Gavin's deceit, and I'm not in any position to think clearly about taking things further with Aiden. That doesn't mean I didn't relish having him in my apartment and my bed for two whole days without interruption. When I'm with him, I feel safe and protected, and for the first time in a while, I don't feel like I have to be responsible for everything all by myself.
“You sure you don’t want to come home with me? You can stay at my house, use my office, work remotely,” he says as he holds me in his arms at SeaTac.
I look up at him and smile. “You can’t be solving crimes and saving lives if I’m distracting you.”
“You’re always a distraction, whether you’re near or far.”
My belly flutters and my body melts into his as I lean into his chest and place a soft kiss on the hollow of his neck. “Will you call me?” I ask, my voice surprisingly steady despite the swirling emotions bubbling up inside of me.
His hand dips under my chin and tilts my face up to his. “Every chance I get if you’ll answer.”
“Aiden . . .” I breathe. He gifts me a knowing grin before he lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me deep and long and probably inappropriate for an airport departure terminal.
When the call for his flight comes over the loudspeaker, we pull apart. I stand up on my toes to give him one final closed-mouth kiss. “You’ll call,” I say, definitively.
“And you’ll ring that private investigator I recommended.”
“I will,” I say with a nod. He tightens his arm around my waist, touching his lips to my forehead before finally pulling away. “I’ll be back in a month, beautiful. We’ll sort this all out, and then I’ll be doing more than kissing you.”
A wry smile curves my lips. “I’ll hold you to that, Detective.”
"I hope you do, Aly," he says as he walks back toward the security checkpoint and with one final wave, disappears from sight.
And he was true to his word. That night, while I’m sitting on my couch with a hot chocolate in hand and a sappy romantic comedy on the television, he calls me.
Two days later, I call him, and touching base every few days becomes our thing.
The following Friday, I meet with Harrison Jones—a private detective who used to work with Aiden. I talk him through what happened and explain what I need to find out, for both my Mom and my peace of mind. After discussing everything I know about Barrett and Gavin, I pay him a sizeable retainer and we go our separate ways with him promising to be in touch when he has news.
After that, I try to move on and put the whole thing out of my mind. I focus all of my time and energy on the company and the new magazine launch. I end my nights talking to Aiden on the phone, or video calling him, and for the first time since Vegas, I’m sleeping through the night and doing it with a smile. The feelings between us are growing deeper and stronger, and I’m more than looking forward to having him back in Seattle with me, even if it’s just for a weekend.
Two weeks after everything went down, I receive a surprise phone call from Mom while I’m knee deep in reviewing the company’s annual report.
“Hey, Mom. How are you?”
“I’m wonderful. How are you? I haven’t interrupted anything, have I?”
I lean back in my chair and swing my eyes to look out my high-rise window. “I’m good. Just burying myself in work and hoping I’ll be able to come up for air sometime before I’m forty,” I reply with a wry laugh.
“Baby girl, you need a holiday.”
“Wasn’t that what my trip to Vegas to see you was for?”
“Yes, but it was far too short.” Or maybe not short enough given what happened.
“I know, Mom. So to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I have wonderful news for you,” she says, her voice jovial. She sounds happier than I’ve ever heard her. And given what I know, alarm bells start ringing.
“You’re coming to visit me?” I guess, my voice filled with hope.
“I wish I could. But guess what? Gavin surprised me yesterday with an impromptu wedding!” she cries, and I freeze, a cold chill washing over my body like someone’s just stepped over my grave.
“You did what?” I shriek.
“Isn’t it romantic?” Mom’s voice is all dreamy and I clench my teeth in preparation for whatever else she might say. “He organized the dress, the reception, everything. I’m now Mrs. Gavin Barnes.” The joy in her voice makes my heart clench. “The only thing missing was you, sweetheart.”
"I wish I was too, Mom." A bad feeling settles deep in my stomach like a dead weight I can't shake. I need to call Aiden and tell him what's happened, probably Harrison too. This is all progressing scarily fast and I'm even more worried about Mom's safety than ever before. Before I can say anything, she continues.
“We’re going to Bora Bora for our honeymoon tomorrow, but I wanted to share our good news with you, and to let you know I’ll be out of the country for a while. Two weeks! I can’t wait.”
“Mom, I’m worried,” I say before I can stop myself.
“Sweetheart, you don’t need to fret. I’m happy. Finally, happy.”
I bite back a sigh because nobody wants to be the one to cast a shadow over their loved one’s happiness. “I’m glad, Mom, I really am. Just to put my mind at ease, can you please send me your travel details. You know, just in case there is an emergency or something?”
“Of course, baby girl. I’ll send them through today.” That’s something at least.
“I’d almost expected Gavin to surprise me again and fly you in.”
“You know I would have.” Even if the mere thought of returning to Vegas has me breaking out in hives.
“I know, dear. You’ve been looking out for me ever since your father died. Now I have Gavin.” That’s exactly what I’m worried about, I don’t say.
“I’ll always protect you, Mom. It’s my job.”
“Are you sure you’re the child and not the parent?” she teases, the warmth in her voice unmistakable.
“Will you come visit me soon, though? I’d love to see you. I’ll book the ticket and everything.”
“That sounds like a fantastic idea, sweetheart. I can show you all of the pictures from the wedding and our honeymoon.” She sounds ecstatic, and I want to feel happy for her—I probably would if I didn’t have suspicions about Gavin’s intentions. If only I had answers right now.
I sigh and drop my head down to rest on the top of my desk. "I look forward to it," I reply distractedly as all the angles Gavin could have rush through my mind. Money? He has more than enough. The company? Potentially, but you'd think he would want to protect his own assets and wealth considering he has a lot more money than Mom and I put together. He owns a hotel for crying out loud.
“You sound busy, Alyssa, so I’ll let you go, but I’ll call you the minute we get back.”
“Be safe, Mom.”
“Always, Baby girl. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” I say back before the call disconnects and I’m left staring in disbelief at Mom’s news.
When I call Aiden and update him about the quickie wedding, he makes a joke about a shotgun before sharing concerns at the speed at which Gavin went from proposing to marrying my mother. But until we have any kind of evidence or dirt against my new stepfather, we agree that there is nothing we can do. Our hands are tied and will be until Harrison gets back to us with something.
Two weeks after that—a month after his last visit—I go to SeaTac to meet Aiden’s flight. I’m the happiest I’ve been for a long time, I’m looking forward to three uninterrupted days with Aiden.
The passengers start to disembark, and I stand there anxiously waiting to see his gorgeous smile again. When I see him, I run straight for him, jumping into his arms and tangling my fingers in his hair before slamming my mouth down on his for a hard, deep, and very thorough welcome back kiss. He drops his bags and grabs my ass, holding me to him as he gives back as good as he gets, smiling against my lips as he does it.
Needing to breathe, I pull my head back to look at him. That's when something—someone—catches my attention behind him and I stop breathing, my body going dead still.
Because the man I’d known as Barrett—the man Aiden told me didn’t exist—is standing right there staring at us, and the look on his face was murderous.