Sweet Little Lies (Angel Sands 3)

“Hey. I wondered how long you’d be sitting out there.” There was a shy smile on his lips. “I was thinking I’d have to drag you out of the car.”

She tried to ignore the blood rushing to her cheeks. “I was listening to the radio.” She winked at him, putting on an air of bravado. “I wanted to hear the end of the song.”

He tipped his head to the side. “What song were you listening to?”

Oh hell. She wrinkled her nose, thinking for a minute. “Um, the Beach Boys.” Lame, so lame.

He coughed out a laugh. “Good Vibrations?”

She rolled her eyes.

With a grin on his face, he stepped back, motioning for her to come in. As soon as she walked inside the door, he took her hand, pulling her close until her body was touching his. She was struck by the hard warmth of his body, the pine fragrance of his cologne. She’d not bothered to wear high heels today – she’d figured she’d kick her shoes off as soon as she walked in – and their height difference was marked. She leaned her head against his shoulder, her cheek pressed to the top of his chest, closing her eyes for a moment. His arms encircled her, his hands pressed to the small of her back. She could hear his breath – soft and low – as he leaned his cheek against her hair.

She could smell something else, too. The most delicious aroma of food wafting out from the kitchen. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten.

“You cooked?” she asked him.

“You sound surprised.” There was a smile in his voice.

“I didn’t expect you to.”

He stepped back, his hands sliding up to her shoulders. Their eyes connected. “What did you think I was going to do? Drag you straight into the bedroom and have my wicked way with you?”

This time she laughed. He was way too close to the truth for comfort. “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “It smells delicious.”

He grabbed her hand and led her into the kitchen, where two pots were boiling on the stove. “I made pasta, something quick and easy. Slow release carbs to give you stamina.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“I’m kidding. Well not about the pasta, because that’s what we’re having. But I didn’t plan on a slow release.” He squeezed her hand. “Try to relax. This is supposed to be a date. Let’s eat and talk and see where things go. No pressure. We don’t do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

She licked her lips. “Am I that obvious?” She hated being so uptight.

“Only to me. I was watching you out of the window. You looked scared to death. And I don’t want you to be scared. I want you to be Brooke. Cool, calm, with an edge that drives me crazy.” He slid his arms around her waist. “The girl I can’t get out of my mind.”

“Okay.” Her voice was soft. She could be that girl, couldn’t she? Sure she’d taken some hits to her self-esteem, but she had confidence. As a mother, as a student, even as a teacher. She needed to show it here.

“I’ve set the table on the deck. Go sit out there and watch the sun go down.” He grabbed a wine bottle from the refrigerator, pouring her a glass and passing it to her. “I’ll bring the food out in a minute.”

She took the glass, feeling the condensation against her skin. “Don’t be too long.”

“I don’t intend to.”

“Good, because I’m hungry.” She grinned at him, the action feeling easier now. He knew exactly how to make her feel comfortable. Another thing she remembered from years ago. His words were like Prozac – soothing to the soul.

“The sooner you get out of here, the sooner I can feed you.”

She was still smiling when she walked through the white gauze curtains and onto his deck. The sun was slip-sliding down the horizon, the sky surrounding it layered in orange and purple. Whispy grey clouds were dotted here and there. The air was so still it was almost ethereal.

Growing up in Angel Sands, she’d become accustomed to the daily sunsets, but whenever tourists visited they always remarked upon their beauty. It was as though mother nature was putting on a daily performance, taking her evening bow against a painted backdrop.

She sat for a moment, letting the stillness of the evening wash over her. Taking a sip of the wine, she savoured the cool crispness of the grapes as the liquid danced on her tastebuds. The beach was deserted, the pale yellow sand turning grey as night descended, the dark water slowly ebbing and flowing against the grains. The waves sounded like a mother’s heartbeat as they gently washed to shore. Slow, steady, reassuring.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” Aiden walked across the deck, two plates of pasta in his hand, the wine bottle tucked under his arm. “Especially in moonlight.”

She turned to look at him. He didn’t look bad himself. In fact, he looked as mouthwatering as the food he was carrying. Dark jeans, bare feet, and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Funny how she didn’t feel so hungry any more. Not for food, anyway.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” she said, as he slid the plate in front of her.