Chapter Two

Magnolia

A DEMON HAS POSSESSED my body. A wanton, sex hungry she-devil with no morals, and a fire between her legs. I’m embarrassed at my rash decision to leave the restaurant with Aidan, but I don’t care enough to stop myself from getting into his car. It’s a quick ride to his condo situated on the water. I texted Jenny and told her my plans and all she texted back was the eggplant emoji and the peach. She obviously cares little about my wellbeing. My pink dress is probably inhibiting oxygen to her brain.

Aidan pulls his car into the small lot adjacent to his building and parks his car. A very nice, meticulously clean coupe that still has that new car leather scent. When you live at the beach, you realize how much of a rarity that scent is. My truck is filled with sand and somehow sticky with salt water at the same time. His complex is a newer building with only a few units. Aidan puts the car in park and looks over at me vibrating in the passenger seat. “Just because you come inside doesn’t mean you’re going to leave ready to birth another child in nine months,” he says.

“That’s not funny, Aidan.”

He holds up his hands. “Sorry. Was trying to lighten the mood. Casual sex is actually pretty fun. I can assure you that you’ll leave feeling better than you have in years.” I glance his way again, and his profile takes me off guard. He is stunning. Truly. His boyish good looks are made more severe by the wolfish way he carries himself. Not only is he aware of that, he also owns it. It’s why I have to take this opportunity. It may never happen again in my lifetime, surely not before a man like this still finds me attractive. My best years are behind me. This is the stuff of legends. Surely, no one would fault me one night of poor decisions.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I reply. “Let’s go in before I change my mind and lose my nerve.”

“Nerve has nothing to do with this,” Aidan says, sliding his hand over the center console and onto my upper thigh, over my skirt. My breath catches and I cough to hide it. He doesn’t miss the cover; his grin tells me so. “Magnolia, the second I get my hands on you, you’ll forget everything else. I promise.”

“That’s a bold promise,” I whisper, warmness flooding between my legs.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep. That’s the first thing you should know about me.”

“What else should I know about you?” I ask, rubbing my thighs together. There’s no denying I’m not leaving this place without him extinguishing the desire. Call it a want. A need. Whatever you want. It’s mine. I’ll let myself feel guilt for my traitorous body tomorrow.

“Only that I’m about to rock your world.”

I nod. That’s all I really need to know for something like this, right? People have hooked up with each other knowing less. Much less. Then, why do I feel the need to ask him about his family and his career? Why do I want to pick his brain and find out if there’s a good person lodged beneath the muscle and charm? My mind is spinning in all directions as I step out of his car and follow him to his front door. He peers over his shoulder a few times, gauging my mood or guessing at what I’m going to say next. Probably taking bets on how fast I’m going to change my mind.

The summer sun hasn’t set, and his condo is lit orange by the floor to ceiling windows that span the width of the room. There is a stairway right in front of us that leads up to the main living area. It’s even brighter up here. “Doesn’t it get hot in here?” I ask, glancing to all of the windows that would have curtains, blackout curtains if I lived here. “You’d bake in here midday.”

He rounds an island to the fridge. “I’m not here too much during the day,” he explains. “Something to drink? I have everything.”

“Wine,” I say, a shiver running up my spine. “Red or white. Whatever you have open.” What that really means is whatever the woman who was here before me liked best.

Aidan opens a new bottle of red and while he pours, he says, “My bedroom is in the back and I have curtains in there. The windows here in the living space have a tint.” I’m listening to him speak while looking over the bay. It is a beautiful view. He extends the wine to me, his hand coming into my peripheral vision. “For you,” he adds.

I thank him as I grab the glass, immediately taking a long sip. “It is quite nice at sunset, isn’t it?”

“The best,” he replies, opening his own beer. “There are so few of these units we had to fight for them. Some of the other housing options needed to be remodeled and worked on. That’s not my thing at all.” Aidan swallows down some beer and sinks down into a sleek loveseat that faces the windowed wall. His arm is perched along the back, open, an invitation.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I sit down, my leg pressed against his. “What is your thing then? Outside of work and whatever that entails.” Asking questions is easy when I’m not looking at his face, and when I have liquid courage sliding down my throat, and a burning need flaming to life after what I thought would be eternal dormancy.

The arm behind me slips onto my shoulders, and when I turn my head up to glimpse his face, he’s smirking. My stomach flips. “Ironically my work is sort of my outside of work hobby as well. All the things I have to be good at for my job, are the things I enjoy. I don’t particularly like wasting time on things that won’t serve me well.”

Something about the last sentence doesn’t sit well with me. “Like relationships?” I shouldn’t care, shouldn’t have asked, but the maturity motherhood has bestowed upon me will always win out.

“I’ve had relationships. A couple of them. My deployment and work up schedules typically don’t allow for much else.”

“But now you’re able to…use the app,” I reply, unable to explain more eloquently when he’s looking at me with that dimple firing at my core.

Aidan grins, white teeth on display. “It does. I have more free time now. Bronze Bay isn’t exactly a hotbed for terrorists.” At the reminder of the war that raged our country for years, a chill prickles my skin, and my mood diminishes. It was years of terror attacks, fighting war on American soil, sleepless nights, and heart in your throat days when all you could do was watch the news and pray there weren’t any bad guys hiding in your neighborhood—in plain sight. That’s why there are so many new military bases scattered throughout the U.S. It’s why the SEALs came to Bronze Bay, Florida.

I remember watching the news as they announced all the new cities around America that would house special operations forces. That was years ago and a new way of life, of being on alert, is the new norm. “It must be a good change of pace then,” I say, trying to keep my mind off the horror of the past and the memories that will be burned into my mind for the rest of time.

“It is,” Aidan remarks. “What about you? Tell me about yourself.”

Facing the water, I keep my gaze off him and on the horizon. “My house is right over there,” I say, distracting myself and hopefully him. “See those lights?” I point to an outlet on the other side of the bay.

He nods.

“That’s my neighbor’s yard. You could probably get to my house quicker by boat than car,” I joke.

“You’re avoiding my question.”

Sighing, I say, “I wasn’t ready for actual conversation. I figured we’d get right to it,” I explain, making a lewd gesture with my hands.

He pulls me in tighter. “Is that what you want then? To get right to it? I was trying to make polite conversation because that’s where it seemed you wanted to go.”

“No, no. I’m glad we’re talking, it was just unexpected, that’s all. I didn’t come up with any interesting facts to tell you about my life.”

“You didn’t have time to come up with lies?” he counters.

“I didn’t say that.”

He quirks one brow. “You didn’t have to.”

“That big, pastel purple Victorian house in town? The one that sells antiques?”

Aidan’s eyes light up. It’s hard to miss. Everyone knows it. It’s purple and I didn’t have the heart to change it when I took it over.

“Yeah, that’s yours?”

“Magnolia’s Steals,” I reply dryly. “That’s my store. I collect and sell antiques. It was a casual hobby while I was married, but now it’s what I do full time. There’s an online store where a lot of my business takes place. I liked the idea of keeping an actual store where people could come in and touch things—see treasures from the past. I’m a sucker for a good story and all of the furniture and jewelry and random bobs and bits have a story.” I shrug. It’s on the table. My life. Kendall and the shop. And my sordid breakup. “You basically know everything about me now.”

“Wow. That’s really impressive. I…like antiques.”

I snort. “Your house is the opposite of classic. It’s all modern, Aidan. You don’t have to pretend to like something just to get in my pants. Truth is, you were already headed there the second you smiled.”

“My smile?” Aidan teases, widening the very grin I’m talking about.

I look away. “That’s the one.”

“Here’s the thing, this sofa might be considered modern now, but one day it will be an antique, right? It will tell the story of when I kissed the beautiful, Magnolia Sager for the very first time.”

“That is a pretty interesting story,” I reply, cocking my head. “And how many other women were kissed for the first time on this modern loveseat?”

He coughs and drags his hand across his mouth to cover a smile. “You’re the only one who matters.”

“Right now,” I deadpan. When his smile falls, I put him out of his misery. “It’s fine. Honestly. I don’t want anything long term. Casual is something I’ve never tried before.”

“You realize you are in the minority, then? Most women don’t want to know or think about women that have come before them.”

“And you? Do you want to think about the man that came before you?”

Aidan clears his throat. “Well, not really. I know enough to know that your ex didn’t treat you properly. I may be into casual dating, but if I ever find a woman I want to keep forever, that’s a game changer. You can guarantee I’d be faithful. I’m honorable when it comes to promises and vows.”

I nod. “That’s one good quality,” I say.

“One?” Aidan barks. “That’s two in my column. You told me you liked my smile.”

“That goes in the bad column. The smile will get me into trouble.”

“The good kind of trouble, no?” he teases, biting his lip.

I stand with my empty wine glass and bring it to the kitchen. “That remains to be seen, Aidan Mixx,” I say, grabbing the bottle and pouring another glass. “How am I getting home by the way? Spending the night?” Spinning to face him, I waggle my eyebrows.

“No spending the night,” he says, shaking his head, sliding his own glass onto the counter. “I’ll drive you home.”

“No sleepovers in casual dating? I thought as long as I was gone by morning, we’d be clear?” That’s what I’ve seen on sitcoms and movies. It can’t be far off.

His smile is forced. “I don’t sleep well with other people,” he says, swallowing hard. And that may be the very first peek into his true personality I’ve seen tonight. A fact that perhaps, others don’t know about him.

When I go to take a sip of wine, he catches my hand before the glass touches my mouth. “Enough of that. I want you to be alert when we go back there,” he says, hiking a thumb over his shoulder.

“Oh, are you my daddy? Telling me what I can and can’t drink?”

Another lip bite. My head swims. “I can be your daddy,” he says. “I’d rather not, but I can be whatever you want me to be. Casual dating,” he explains, raising both brows. “It’s impressive. Whatever you want.”

I set the almost full glass down with a shaky hand. “Point taken,” I say, nodding. “Show me your room?”

He grabs my hand and leads me out of the living area and down the short hall to his room. The space is darkened by curtains, Aidan hits a switch and a dim glow illuminates the space. The bed is…antique. It’s a double bed with a black, wrought iron frame. The finials on the corners of the bedposts are ornate, giving me all the clues I need as to age and make. As I take in my surroundings, I drag my hand over the beautiful frame. “This is nice. Where did you get it?” I ask, turning to meet his eyes.

“I acquired it when I became a SEAL. I needed a bed and this one was sitting on the side of the road with a free sign taped to it. Not the best story, but I’ve kind of grown attached to it, I guess.”

Another truth. “Well, I think it’s a great story and I’m glad you kept it. It’s in great condition,” I say, examining the grooves and notches where it’s been welded. The newer frames that try to replicate this style have cleaner lines. “It’s a small bed,” I say, offering a crooked smile. “Doesn’t that inhibit your hobbies?”

“Now is the time that I show you how much I am not inhibited by the size of my bed,” he counters, closing the space between us in two large steps. “Right?” he asks.

My breathing speeds and my stomach tightens. I’m in unknown territory, so even though I know this is a normal feeling, I can’t control my hands as they clench and unclench by my side. Aidan runs his hands down my arms and ends with my fists inside his palms. He eases them open using his thumbs, laying his forehead against mine. “Just feel it,” he says, leaning down to brush his lips against mine, shaking his head no.

“You lied,” I say. “Weren’t you supposed to kiss me for the first time out there?” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. “On the sofa. In front of the windows?”

He backs me up, walking toward the bed. “I did lie. Only because I wanted to kiss you on my bed first.”

“Why? Because I know how much it’s worth?” I say, grinning against his lips. We’re not kissing, our mouths are merely lingering close, sharing breath, making me light headed with the need for more.

“No, because I kiss all of the women on the couch first. You’ll be the first kiss in my bed.”

“Well, isn’t that romantic in a casual dating sort of way?” I counter, smiling in spite of the absurdity of it all.

“It’s romantic in every sort of way,” he says, laying me back on the bed. He drops a kiss on my collarbone, and then my neck, his warm lips prickling my cool skin. Aidan holds himself off me as I scoot up on his bed until my head hits pillows. It smells like it’s been freshly laundered, but at this point, I don’t want to think of why. I need to push his conquests aside if I’m going to enjoy myself.

He pulls his lips away and rises to his knees. He yanks his shirt off and tosses me a lopsided grin. My mouth goes dry as I stare at him. “Are you even real? I didn’t know muscles looked like that in real life,” I manage.

He flexes his abs and I count at least eight on first glance. “It’s part of my job,” he replies.

“Right. You don’t enjoy reaping the benefits of your job at all?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

His grin spreads, and my heart skips a beat. “It does grant me some privileges I might not have otherwise. Like having you in my bed.” Aidan unbuttons his jeans, keeping his gaze on mine. “So, you have less trouble later,” he whispers. A clear-headed Magnolia would tell him I’m a confident, capable woman who needs no help unbuttoning a man’s jeans, but Aidan does possess another sense. A sex sense and I would need help.

My skin feels like it’s fire and ice as he moves a hand under my tank top. I’d watch if I wasn’t so fascinated with how the lines in his biceps rise and lower under his skin anytime he moves even the slightest bit. My ex-husband isn’t bad looking by any stretch of the imagination. He’s long and lean and always stays in shape by running. Comparing Aidan and Paul would be like comparing apples and oranges—Chris Hemsworth to John Krasinski circa The Office, a non-comparison, really. Aidan kisses my ear, gently nudging. “You’re overthinking it,” he says, sliding his hand up my stomach and under the front of my bra, his fingers splaying across my ribcage.

“How can you tell?” I say, my words a bit muffled by ragged breaths. “You’re right, but how can you tell?”

Aidan brings his face in front of mine, his eyes dark, his tongue dragging across his bottom lip. “I’m good at this. I can tell.” Another truth spoken with a rough, toe-curling edge.

I sigh, long and heavy. “I wish you weren’t so good at this,” I counter.

“Doubtful you’ll hold on to that wish once we get started,” he quips back, leaning down. “Close your eyes and part your lips.”

I do as he orders, and he slides his hand over my breast and makes a pleased sigh the second his lips meet mine. He tastes of masculinity, the formidable, heady scent that invades your head right before a man invades your body. Reaching up to twine my fingers in his hair, I pull him closer so his bare chest is against me and I’m fully consumed at all angles by him—his bulging arms by my sides, his pecs on my chest, his mouth against mine, captivating all of my senses.

Aidan’s tongue lashes out against mine and this kiss turns deadly—sucking away any chance I had at keeping a level head. His dominating presence takes away any preconceived notions that I’ll leave this room as the same woman who entered. My mind is a mottled mess, and my body is only attuned to his touch. He reminds me to keep my eyes closed, a murmur against my lips, in a brief pause, and he continues to kiss me and lavish me with his expert mouth and warm, purposeful touch.

The doorbell rings. Not in the cliché way in movies where a passionate coupling is broken up by a loud noise, it actually happens. Then again. And again, when he doesn’t respond right away. Aidan pushes a loud, annoyed breath through his lips and hops off the bed. I lean up on my arms, flushed and confused.

“Don’t move a muscle. I’ll be right back,” he says, eyeing me down from the doorway.

Of course, as soon as he disappears from view, I follow him.