Broken Bonds (Lizzie Grace 3)

Our meals arrived—rare steak for him, and a decently cooked one for me—and the conversation moved on. We talked for hours about his family and my travels—where Belle and I had been, and why we’d left—until the candle had burned down low and the staff were making polite “please leave” motions.

Once we’d split the bill—he wanted to fully pay but I was having none of that—we left. The night was much cooler and goose bumps skittered across my skin. Aiden wrapped an arm around my shoulders and tucked me close.

“So,” he said casually, but with an underlying tension I could feel through every movement, “would you like to come back to my place? Or would you prefer to go back to your hotel?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Do you really have to ask?”

He gave me an endearing, lopsided smile. “I learned long ago never to take things for granted, no matter how well things might appear to be going.”

“So you’ve said before.” I studied him for a second, catching the briefest glimmer of pain in his eyes. “But this time I’m sensing there’s a story behind it.”

“Indeed there is, but it’s one I’d rather share on a cooling night.”

“So it’s a tale full of woe and misplaced expectations?”

“And heartbreak. Don’t forget the heartbreak.”

“Never.” I couldn’t imagine anyone actually wanting to break this man’s heart, but someone obviously had. “Are you in need of a comfort cuddle?”

“Comfort cuddles never go astray,” he said evenly. “But right now, I’m thinking sex would be better. Hot, sweaty sex.”

My pulse leapt into overdrive again. “I could certainly get behind an aim like that.”

“Good, because I really wasn’t planning on going solo.”

I laughed. “Neither was I, trust me on that.”

“More than happy to hear that.” He opened the car door for me then ran around to the driver side and climbed in.

It didn’t take us long to get to his home, which was situated within a six-unit complex built close to the sandy shoreline of the vast Argyle Lake. His apartment sat at the far end of the complex, close to a curving shoreline and surrounded by trees. It was a two-story, cedar-clad building complete with a long first-floor balcony and a wall of glass that overlooked the water. Belle and I had stayed here the night the café roof had been blown off, but this was the first time he and I had been here alone.

It was a thought that had butterflies stirring. I suspected their origin wasn’t only expectation, but also nervousness. After all, not only had it been a rather long time since my last sexual encounter, it was also my first with this man. And many of my previous “first times” had been plain awkward at best, and damn unsatisfying at worst.

Aiden opened the front door and ushered me inside. The lower floor was basically one long room divided by an open wooden staircase. At the far end was a modern kitchen diner, complete with a bench long enough for six people to sit around. On this side of the room, there was an open fireplace, around which was a C-shaped, hugely comfortable leather sofa. The TV—a monster of a thing—dominated the corner between the fireplace and the outside glass wall. The stairs led up to two bedrooms, each with its own en suite. Aiden’s was at the front of the building and had balcony access and long views over the lake. There was only one acknowledgment of the festive season in the room, and that was the rather sad-looking tree that sat on the other side of the fireplace.

“Not even a real tree, let alone a decorated one.” I shook my head, my expression one of mock sadness. “I expected more, Ranger.”

“I’m not about to cut down a real tree, and there are decorations—it has tiny lights at the end of each branch.”

“Which don’t work if you don’t plug it in.”

“I’m not here enough to worry about it.” He closed the front door but didn’t turn on either the overhead or tree lights. They weren’t needed—the moonlight now streaming in through the glass provided more than enough light.

“Coffee?” He brushed past, sending a shiver of delight rolling across my skin. “Or perhaps something stronger to settle the nerves?”

I smiled and followed him down to the kitchen. “A wolf’s nose is keener than I thought if you can smell my nerves.”

His grin flashed, bright and warm. “Who was talking about your nerves?”

I smiled, hooked my purse over the back of the nearest bar chair, and then sat down. “I’m glad I’m not the only one having an attack of ‘it’s been so long, what-ifs?’”

His grin grew. “In my case, it’s more a case of wanting so badly I’m afraid it’ll be over in a heartbeat.”

I accepted the glass of whiskey and raised an eyebrow. “So that much-vaunted control you were boasting about—”

“It was lies. All lies. I apologize in advance for any inadvertent hastiness.”

I laughed. “Then I shall apologize in advance if it takes me a little longer to get fired up, despite the raging desire.”