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“Are you a… friend of Trish Sylvester’s, then?” he asked, his gut tensing for the answer, though what did he expect? She was a beautiful woman, of course she would have moved on.
Kyle snorted, his eyes glassy now that the booze had kicked in. “That’s one way of putting it, yeah. We’re engaged.” He flashed a lop-sided grin. “I hooked a rich babe who knows how to—”
“Hey, watch your mouth.” Aaron’s fists clenched. He itched to knock those perfect teeth out of the asshole’s mouth. What did Trish see in this guy?
Kyle backed up a couple of steps—maybe he was smarter than he looked after all—and raised his hands in the air. “Take it easy, I didn’t mean anything by it. Trish is a sweet girl, I’m lucky to have her.”
“You’re preachin’ to the choir, man.” Aaron turned away, disgusted. “Trish and I go way back. You might want to find out who you’re sharing confidences with next time before opening a can of worms you can’t retract.” He reached for the door. “By the way, I don’t just work here. I’m part owner.”
Kyle’s eyes widened even as he swayed against the bar. Aaron shook his head. Idiot.
He took a steadying breath and stepped into the hall, straight into the oncoming path of his ex-girlfriend.
“Oh,” she stammered, slim hands bracing against Aaron’s chest. “I didn’t see you there.”
Aaron’s senses were overwhelmed with the scent and feel of Trish. His fingers gripped her hips, the urge to tug her closer so she could feel what she did to him riding him hard. Her green eyes pulled him into their depths, seeming to make promises he knew, knew, she wouldn’t keep. Damn it, what was it about this woman? Why couldn’t he get her out of his blood?
“I met your fiancé,” he said, his voice ripe with challenge. The outdoors clung to her skin, sun and flowers combining to intoxicate him more than the whiskey.
She lifted her chin, eyes narrowing. “What did you say to him, Aaron? I’d hoped we could all act like adults while we’re here.”
Aaron laughed, his hands doing the job his heart urged him to do, forcing her to come up against his chest with a soft oomph. “Darlin’, I’m definitely a man, make no mistake.” He leaned down and brushed her lips, setting up a warning through his chest. He was playing with fire, and if he wasn’t careful, there was little doubt who was going to get burned. Again.
“Aaron, stop this,” she murmured, though her lips parted on a sigh. “We can’t…”
He lifted his head and stared at her upturned face. “Can’t what, Trish? You invited yourself onto my territory and brought reinforcements. I want to know why.”
She moved out of his arms. He pretended not to feel the loss.
“We needed a break from the city,” she said. “Surely, you can understand that? Your sister sent an email to me highlighting the new business venture—congrats, by the way—and I thought it would be fun to come and check it out. End of story.”
He eyed her nervously tucking her hair behind her ear and knew she was bluffing. The question remained; why?
|Jacquie Biggar, Author|