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“ORDER UP!” ASPEN Hewitt’s trusted and number-one chef slid two plates of steaming lobster capellini with leek tarragon cream sauce on the chrome rack just as the fill-in waitress tied the black apron around her waist and walked into the kitchen.
Aspen sighed with relief, thankful she’d been able to find a waitress fill-in on the busiest day of the year, Valentine’s Day.
She relied on her staff as much as the other employees did. They’d had to pick up the slack tonight while she’d made calls to the employees who had booked the day off, practically pleading for them to work. The task had proved to be a difficult challenge. Generally, Aspen gladly worked the floor on this busy holiday. Not only was a packed house good for her bank account, but she’d been single each Valentine’s Day since she’d opened the business three years ago, leaving her no reason not to work. At least by the end of the night she typically had great numbers to enjoy with a bottle of wine and soothing music.
This Valentine’s was different. She still didn’t have a date—not with a guy anyway—but she wouldn’t work the whole night. Her single friends had signed them all up to a group event on some website called “Single Status,” dedicated to celebrating single people around the globe. After a quick survey, and the option of paying in advance for a surprise trip or paying as you go, the organization sent their clients on what they called “missions.” These missions ranged from heading to a craft night, or taking a cruise, to a simple night at a local restaurant The options spanned from simple to extravagant. Aspen’s friends had signed them up as a group and to pay as you go. The envelope with the mission had been dropped off at the restaurant days ago with instructions not to open until Valentine’s Day. It had remained sealed and tonight she would break the seal.
She spotted her group now, finishing their supper at a large table in the middle of Aspen’s restaurant. She looked around the space and smiled.
When she’d purchased the old house off the main street, she’d gutted the inside and built a rustic-themed restaurant with warm colors, starting with the original brick wall. The whole place had a welcoming feel and romantic glow, including the turquoise seats offered a pop of color.
Directing her attention back to her friends, she saw Clark and Tess, her best friends, sat among a six other people. All platonic friends, she knew. Some had remained closer friends than others since high school, but seeing them all together now felt like transporting into the past.
Aspen had urged them to eat without her after the last minute cancellations had dragged her away. Still dressed in her afternoon work clothes—black slacks and a red, button-up blouse—she weaved her way across the herringbone floor of dark and light woods to her friends. Her little black dress hung in her office. After she told the group the limo would arrive shortly, she’d go change.
Her hand pressed against her apron pocket where the red velvet envelope was tucked away with the details of their mission.
She stopped at their table and her—“Ta-da.”—got their attention.
“Are you finally done?” Tess squeezed her wrist with an exaggerated sigh.
Aspen smiled. “Yes.”
The table cheered, clapping their hands and whistling. A few even rose their glasses in the air to toast her presence before chugging back the liquid.
“The limo will be here in about fifteen minutes, so finish your drinks,” Aspen said.
Clark held up her glass. “But there’s alcohol in the limo, right?”
Aspen chuckled. “I would assume so. You rented it, remember? Is there alcohol?”
Clark, clearly already a little tipsy, lifted her glass and cheered the air before downing her drink.
“And—” Aspen began to slip the envelope out of her apron when a familiar bay rum scent wafted around her, freezing her hand and breath, but speeding her heart to the rapid sound of drums.
She felt an arm lightly slip around her waist and fingers press into her side. She recognized the man even before he spoke against the side of her head.
“How’s my favorite little sister’s best friend?”
His low, husky voice was the sound of every women’s hottest fantasy and curled her insides into knots. Still, she cringed at the “little sister’s best friend” cliché, even as excitement, fear, and desire pulsed from his touch and soared through her body. He was as much the cliché being her best friend’s older, hot brother. He’d always been hot. And taken. He’d always had a girl on his arm. And he’d only ever seen Aspen as no more than the cliché.
She hadn’t seen him in five years. A quick search on the internet had told her Creed Nigh had retired his professional soccer career a little over a year ago due to a recurring knee injury. A year before that he’d divorced his model-turned-wife actress. That was the type of woman Creed had always been interested in, gorgeous and flashy, nothing like Aspen.
“That’s insulting.” Clark slammed her glass down on the table a little too hard. “What about me? Am I not your favorite little sister’s best friend?”
Aspen felt Creed’s low chuckle vibrate against her side where he clutched her firmly. His grasp made her feel as if he owned her or had a claim on her and was showing her off to the world. Yeah right, not in her wildest dreams.
And yet, she didn’t move. But she didn’t dare look at him either. Maybe in fear of what she might find: another woman on his other arm.
What was he even doing here in Willow Valley? In her restaurant? And was she convincing anyone with her fake, shaky smile?
“Clark, you know I always had a sweet spot for the quiet girls.” She could picture Creed winking at her friend with his charming demeanor.
Clark laughed. “Bullshit. You like them loud, wild, and experienced.” She looked around him. “Speaking of which, where’s your fancy date tonight? It’s Valentine’s Day and I’m sure you have some jet ready to whisk you and your latest catch off to a private island for a weekend in paradise.”
Aspen’s question exactly.
“I’m flying solo tonight.” His husky tone made every word he spoke sound sexy without even trying. And she’d heard his “solo” lines before. “Solo” meant no one was with him right now, not that there wasn’t someone waiting for him at home.
And yet, she still didn’t wiggle free of his grasp. In fact, she felt her body lean deeper into his side. She even relaxed a little. Darn her emotions for overriding her good sense.
In high school, she might have shied away from him while secretly longing for a kiss. For the longest time, she would keep her distance while wondering what his lips tasted like. Until that one night with him.
Now, she wanted to punch him in the face and watch his nose bleed for sleeping with her and then taking off to marry his, at the time, model fiancée in the city and then traveling to far off locales where his soccer career took him.
“Tess told me about your singles night, and I thought, what the hell. It sounds like fun.”
Was her hearing not working correctly? She was certain Creed had just said he planned on joining them tonight. That couldn’t be possible. Why would he when he could literally take a jet to a private island and be with any woman he chose?
She scanned all the areas of the restaurant she could see without moving. Surprisingly, and to her relief, all the other couples were so deeply ensconced in their own romantic bubbles that none noticed one of Willow Valley’s town legends.
Her group of friends were a different story. The women all seemed lost in a daze of desire. They sat with their chin in their hands, mouths draping open, and eyes holding whimsical looks. The men weren’t any better, practically drooling over the guy who had once been the school’s soccer star.
“Have a seat.” One of the guys patted the empty chair meant for Aspen. “The limo is arriving soon.”
“We’re doing this night in style. I’m impressed.” Creed squeezed her side before sliding into the seat. Only then did Aspen steal a look. His dark eyes were on her, and only her, as if she were the only person in the room. It was an impressive stare he’d mastered a long time ago. She wouldn’t fall for it—not again.
With Creed sitting at the table, all the attention had turned to him. Soon, his eyes left hers and dived into conversation with her friends. The platonic group was now a cesspool of suffocating desire, defeating the point of tonight. Thanks to Creed.
She left the envelope in her pocket. “I’m going to change,” she said. No one replied, making her feel as invisible as she’d always felt.
Aspen made her way around the romantic couples holding hands, playing footsies under the table, and sending looks of promise for what would come after dinner. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to get away from the love and sexual desire invading her restaurant. However, a night out trying to avoid Creed didn’t sound much better.
Why had she let her friends convince her a group party would be fun? Why hadn’t she stuck to her routine? Why did Creed Nigh always ruin everything?
In her office, she shut the door behind her and stared at the form-fitting, black dress hanging on the back of the door. The hem fell just above the knee and the top was sleeveless. Flashy—which she usually steered away from. Aspen had picked it out because... well, why the hell not? Her work had consumed her for so long, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out, so she’d indulged.
Now, she knew why the hell not. It might be a sexy number hanging in front of her, but it wasn’t her. Tonight, she wanted to be the girl no one noticed. That wouldn’t be possible in this revealing dress.
With no other choice, she quickly undressed and stepped into the dress. As the zipper slid over her backside, it snagged. She tried to continue zipping upwards, retreat back downwards, but it was stuck.
“Dammit!” She grabbed her cell phone and sent Tess a text for help.
Could anything else go wrong with this evening?