Chapter Seventeen

 

It was so easy, too easy, to fall into a comfortable pattern with Aidan over the next couple days, grabbing a quick bite to eat here or there, walking Ranger together long after their shops were closed, stealing a kiss after she’d hand him his coffee in the morning as Harper would send her a knowing look.

Like today.

“You’re so gone,” Harper quipped.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re gone for that guy. Totally in love. Don’t tell me it’s not true.”

As her employee, Harper didn’t know the backstory on Aidan MacDermott. She and Harper talked from time to time. Leia knew that Harper wanted to open her own business one day, giving art lessons to kids—an idea that she boasted was the only way to legitimize her art major to her parents. And Leia talked about her own life from time to time, even men she’d dated if the topic arose.

But Aidan’s chapter in her life story was too far in the past to relay to an employee.

So it surprised her that Harper would think much of a few random, over-the-counter kisses that she and Aidan shared.

“He’s barely been in town a week. Why do you think that?”

“Your eyes dart to the door every time the chimes ring. You blush when he kisses you. You bite your bottom lip when he leaves as if you’re trying to keep yourself from closing the conversation with an ‘I love you.’”

Gut cinching up, Leia winced. Was she that transparent?

With Harper’s observation still simmering in her mind, Leia left for a quick lunch break with Aidan just after the midday crowd abated. She didn’t miss Harper’s cheeky grin as she left and vowed to be a little less obvious around her workplace. After all, he’d be leaving in only a few days, and she didn’t want to deal with the unyielding questions or lamentations by her nineteen-year-old barista, who was still at that point in her life when she believed that love could conquer all.

Love couldn’t conquer the baggage that Leia and Aidan shared, she reminded herself.

“Not that I love him in the first place,” she caught herself whispering under her breath as she stepped into Annapolis’s notorious humidity.

Sparing only a half hour to eat her lunch, they planned to eat some sandwiches together in the back room of Tribute, so she turned to take the few steps to her destination.

Squinting from the sun tracking lower in the sky, Leia stopped for a moment when butterflies took flight inside her belly at the thought of last night and every night this week—the way she felt when they were together, as though their destinies had fused once more.

She gave herself a shake. It wasn’t destiny that brought them together, she reminded herself, unwilling to be whisked away by the romance of the idea.

It was so much easier to think of him as a fling—a lovely affair with an expiration date written in permanent marker. Yet something had shifted since they’d made love that night on Maddox’s boat.

Harper was right. It was love that Leia felt for him—a sentiment so elusive to her these past years that she’d started to wonder if she was capable of it anymore. Yet there it was, peeking out of her heart for the same man who’d inspired the emotion for the first time in her life.

Pressing her lips together determinedly, she squared her shoulders toward the door of Tribute and locked up her heart again.

“Bonjour, Mademoiselle,” Becca greeted her with a sorry excuse for a French accent when Leia stepped inside.

“Bonjour?” Leia’s brow scrunched up curiously. “Have you been putting bourbon in your latest ice cream flavor? You know, you need a liquor license to do that.”

“No liquor. At least not in the ice cream.” Becca’s eyes sparked with mischief as she wiped her hands on her apron and walked around the counter. “Your party is waiting for you at our finest table. Follow me, Mademoiselle.”

Confused, and slightly annoyed that she clearly didn’t understand her friend’s joke, she followed Becca into the back room. “What are you—?”

Her voice cut short when she saw Aidan stand up in greeting at a small, candlelit table adorned with a white tablecloth and bouquet of flowers. Two French flags peeked out from in between the blooms.

Becca grinned. “I’ll just shut the door and leave you two to enjoy your meal,” she said, her tone infused with a girlish giggle as she disappeared from the back room.

 Aidan pulled out a chair for her, and brushed a kiss against her cheek before she sat down. “I figured I couldn’t whisk you away to the French countryside like you wanted. But I could at least bring a little of France to Annapolis.”

Leia’s mouth hung open in shock for a moment as Aidan moved to an iPad, touched the screen, and the crooning voice of Edith Piaf singing Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien filled the air.

“What is all this, Aidan?”

“You said you missed France. So I thought I’d bring France to you.”

Heart melting, she pressed her lips together hoping, as he touched her lightly, that he didn’t notice the crop of goosebumps cascading over her arms.

And just like that, the last remnants of control vanished and she fell in love with him again completely.

He poured her a glass of wine.

“Is that French wine, I’m guessing?” she inquired, trying desperately to quell the feelings welling up inside her.

“You guessed right. I know you prefer Scotch, but here in France, we drink wine, Mademoiselle.”

“I won’t complain,” she said, unable to resist leaning over to smell the roses in the bouquet. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“I’d do a lot more if we had more than a half hour for your lunch break.” He winked.

A laugh escaped her at the insinuation. She glanced over her shoulder when he rustled open a few plastic bags, and the smells of fragrant cooking filled the back room. “Don’t tell me you fixed all that yourself.”

He chuckled. “No, I have good reason to keep you alive. I bought take-out at that French restaurant a couple miles north of downtown. We have…” He glanced down and flipped over his lower arm to read something scrawled on it in blue ballpoint pen. “…to start, scallops poached in wine with a roasted mushroom and garlic puree, and a baked Camembert. And for our entrees, we have filet of sole in a butter and lemon sauce, or if you prefer, a chicken stew with red wine sauce.”

Mouth watering, Leia’s eyes flashed. “Coq au vin! I love coq au vin.”

He chuckled. “I should have known you’d prefer the French names. I’ve got them here too, but I’d massacre the words if I tried to pronounce them.”

She tugged his inked arm to take a look, but it was more to bring him closer to her than to read the words scrawled on his skin. “Is this how you cheated on tests as a kid?”

His eyes widened innocently. “I never cheated on tests. I failed them on my own accord.”

“Did not. You had perfect grades. I remember.” She gazed at the overabundance of food. “We’ll never finish all this in a half hour lunch, though.”

“I hoped we wouldn’t. Then I’d send you home with leftovers and hope I might get an invitation to join you when you ate them.”

A sly, half-grin teased at her lips. “Consider yourself invited.”

He smiled as he sat, and immediately stabbed a scallop and offered it to her. “I was tempted to wear my suit for our lunch, just to impress you. But since I have to wear it tomorrow, with my luck I’d end up getting it stained.”

“You picked it up?” she asked before taking the scallop into her mouth, and letting the succulent layers of taste roll over her tongue. Withholding a purr, she tried to remember the last time she’d tasted anything so lovely.

“This morning, I did.”

“And?”

“And I’d say I have someone in my life with good taste. It looks great.”

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “Unless they greet me with an HK416 pointed at my head, I probably won’t break a sweat. It’s more like, I’m curious.”

“Curious?”

“Yeah. I never really thought about what my life might be like as a civilian until this past month. And it’s got a lot of questions running through my head.” He looked uneasy.

Swallowing another scallop, she opened her mouth to ask about those questions he mentioned, daring to wonder if she played any role in them, when he cut her off with, “How’s the food?”

“Excellent. You certainly went all out.” Feeling indulgent, she moved her attention to the coq au vin, taking a bite of the tender meat and chasing the rich taste of mushroom sauce with a sip of wine.

Her eyes half shut at the symphony of tastes taking place in her mouth, she’d swear she was in France right then, sitting at a café along the Champs-Élysées. Or better yet, reclining on a picnic blanket along the banks of the Vienne River with the Château de Chinon stretched out on a steep upward slope from the quaint town below. She could picture herself there with Aidan. Truth was, she could picture herself anywhere with Aidan, as though he melded so perfectly into any dreams she had of the future.

Yet he didn’t, she reminded herself. This was only a lovely fantasy.

“Only the best when you’ve traveled across the ocean to get here, Leia.” He kissed her then, soft and sumptuous.

Leia had never forgotten the way Aidan kissed after all these years, the alluring brush of his lips against hers always making her entire body yield to him.

“I could get used to lunches like this,” she breathed out in a sensual sigh, watching the candlelight flicker.

No. No, she couldn’t, that pesky inner voice scolded her again. In just three days, he’d return to San Diego. Somehow the reminder made the wine suddenly taste a little less heavenly.

But then, there is that interview…

“Is business still good today?” he asked.

Relieved, she felt grateful for a topic firmly rooted in reality. “It’s great. Still busier than I’ve ever been. Some pop culture news website ran a story about it this morning. You know, the ones that pretend they’re news, but are really just about fluff like—”

“Like some coffeehouse owner who gets a hundred thousand views of her cute dog video?”

She laughed. “Exactly. So I’m still getting as many views as ever.”

“With that website picking it up, I’ll bet you’ll hit a million views.”

“I’ve heard of everyone having their five minutes of fame, you know? And I keep waiting for this spike in business to end, when my five minutes ends. Yet I wake up, open the shop, and customers start pouring in like I’d always dreamed.” Still grinning, she shook her head in disbelief of it all. “And how about your day? How are things at Tribute?”

“Just the usual ice cream crowd. Had a minor emergency when a three-year-old experienced his first brain freeze headache. Then there was a catastrophe when a woman thought we had run out of Death by Chocolate. I thought I might have to pull out some of my crisis management skills till we settled her down and grabbed a fresh five-gallon container from the back. It’s been a damn exciting day.”

Lifting a mushroom to her lips, she tilted her head. There had been humor in his tone as he’d said it, but some frustration, too. “Do you like it? Working in the shop, I mean.”

“It’s a hell of a lot different from what I’m used to.”

“Becca says you’re good at it. Even told me you’re starting to know some of the customers by name.”

“Yeah, I try. Seeing as that’s really the biggest challenge to the business, I kind of feel obligated to succeed at it.”

“Sounds like you’re missing having more stress in your life.”

He heaved a breath. “Truth? Yeah, sometimes I think I’m going to explode.”

“You love the adrenaline rush.”

“I used to think it was that.” His voice was strangely soft, contemplative. “I think it’s more than that, though. I miss the feeling like I’m doing something of value for my Team and my country. For being a part of a mission. Here, I’m just serving ice cream.”

“Not true. You guys make a lot of money for military charities with that ten-percent you donate, plus all those special events Becca and Maddox are always planning.”

“True. But I’m a more hands-on kind of guy.”

“Yes, you are,” she breathed out the reply in a rush, remembering the feel of those hands on her skin and aching for more of it tonight. How many more times could she experience it before he left? A shudder buzzed through her, knowing it would never be enough.

“Raising money for causes is great,” he continued. “But I’d rather be the one getting my hands dirty. Well, dirty with something other than ice cream and hot fudge sauce.”

“I guess your hands got pretty dirty being a SEAL.”

“Dirty, calloused, and covered in gunshot residue.”

“What’s San Diego like?” She tried to picture him there, leading the life he’d enjoyed without her.

 “Gorgeous weather nearly every day. But you pay dearly for it. Real estate is through the roof.” Leaning back, he stretched his legs out in front of him looking as though he was envisioning the sun and the surf, his toes in the sand and the midday heat warming his tanned chest.

Leia bit her lip, feeling her own temperature rise at the shirtless image she conjured in her mind. “Worse than here?”

“Even worse than here. But it’s worth it.”

Sounds like you want to dig roots there. She wanted to say it, but didn’t, and found solace in his touch as he reached for her hand.

Humor creased his eyes as his fingers toyed with hers. “I have to remind myself that these are the same hands that hit me over the head with a bouquet not long ago.”

“I prefer liking you to hating you, I’ll admit.”

His fingers laced tightly with hers. “Hope that continues. At least till Becca’s wedding.”

“So long as you don’t go talking to my dad again, I think we’ll be safe,” she joked.

The wedding. Six long months from now. She wished it was sooner than that. If it was next month, she’d dare to suggest they stay together for the trip, share a hotel room, and take the time to enjoy each other’s company just as they were right now.

Her eyes nearly fluttering shut, she could see herself walking along the white sand beaches together, wading into the surf, jumping over waves along the way. She wanted to have a Scotch-and-soda—no, make that a margarita—with him as they watched the sunset together, and wake up in his arms as an island breeze drifted through their window.

In the distant reaches of her imagination, she could almost hear the palm fronds whispering in the wind and the beat of a steel drum band filling the air.

But six months was a long time from now. Too long from now to make plans all based on some short-term fling.

Unless tomorrow’s interview went well for Aidan, she dared to consider, immediately reprimanding herself for even thinking it.

For now, though, Leia savored the French ambience and calming buzz of fine wine in her veins, in the company of a man who was pulled from her best fantasies, with a face she knew as well as her own.