Barefoot Kisses (The Kisses 7)

“Fine. I'll tell you later. It's important, though.” I took another swig of wine to wash down the guilt. I will tell him, I promised myself. I just needed to find a better time to do so. The right time. For now, I would just enjoy finding out more about him. “What do you want most in the world?”

“French fries.”

I gave his shoulder a playful push. “Real answers, remember?”

He stared up at the sky, his eyes searching for something that wasn't there. “I want to find my place in the world,” he said after a moment. “I've lived in my father's shadow for so long that I don't know how to escape it, or even if I want to. I want to make him proud, but...”

I snuggled into his shoulder, trying to give him some comfort. I wanted to take some of his pain away.

He sighed. “I never seem to be enough for him. For anyone, really.”

“You're more than enough, Aiden,” I informed him. “If he can't see how wonderful you are, then he doesn't deserve you.”

“What makes you think I'm so wonderful? You barely know me.”

His words stung. He was right. I hadn't even spent a full week with him yet, but something inside of me knew better. “I met you three weeks ago and you changed my life. You weren't even trying to, but you gave me courage. You believed in me after thirty seconds.”

“You won't be lower level for long,” he remembered. “I guess I was right. But, Lena-”

I cut him off before he could tell me that he hadn't meant it. I knew he had. “That night, I was able to go in front of my boss and show what I could do because someone had told me I could. I know that it didn't matter much to you, but it mattered to me. If you have that kind of effect on me, then you have it with everyone you meet.”

“That doesn't mean I'm wonderful. There's things you don't know about me,” he said darkly.

I sat up, placed the bottle in the sand, and looked down at him. “I know enough. If you want me to know more, then tell me.”

He looked up at me, his eyes reflecting the cold, distant starlight. “You sure? I could be a very different person than the one you think you know. How do you know that I'm not a terrible person?”

“Because of this.” I leaned down and kissed him. His lips were soft and tender, and full of desire. There was strength and sweetness. It was all about emotion and the gut reaction his kiss gave me every time. I didn't care if this was a fling or real. Everything a girl could ever want in a kiss was in his lips. “When you kiss me, I know all I need to.”

He was quiet for a moment. I knew it was silly for me to have these feeling for him so quickly, but I didn't care. My heart and my gut said that he was a good person, that he was everything I wanted in a man. For once, I was listening with my heart instead of my brain, and my heart said he was what I wanted.

“In that case, I should kiss you all the time.” He was back to his usual self, confident and charming. He patted his shoulder for me to retake my place. I only paused for a moment before cuddling back into him.

“I wouldn't complain one bit,” I said as he wrapped his arm around me. “You can kiss me anytime you want.”

I liked the way he felt beneath me, but something now felt off. My brain wasn't quite as willing to stay silent to the confidence of my heart. I wondered what he meant by his words, “I could be a very different person than the one you think you know.” If I had a secret I hadn't told him, it was very possible that he had some he hadn't revealed to me. I wondered what Aiden the Assistant could be hiding.

“Okay, my turn,” Aiden announced. “How many boyfriends have you had?”

“You really want to know?” I could feel my cheeks heating and I was glad we were in the dark.

“Yes, I need to know who my competition is.”

“Four serious ones.” I sighed, knowing he would want more information than that. “The last serious one being a little over a year ago. I've been on a couple of dates since, but nothing really has clicked. You don't have any competition.”

“Of course I do,” Aiden replied. “You're a beautiful woman. Any man who sees you is my competition.”

I smiled. The sentiment was slightly chauvinistic, but it was still sweet. “When was your last serious relationship?” I asked.

“Give me some of that wine.” He sighed, holding out his hand.

“That bad, huh?” I teased. He took a moment to answer.

“I'm good with women. I know what women want and how to get them to give me what I want.” He said it as fact, rather than boasting. Given his good looks and charm, I

could believe it. “But, I'm not good at relationships.”

“That's not what I asked,” I said after a moment of quiet. My brain started to whisper that my heart might not like the answer to this particular question after all.