Grace didn’t see Aaron again that afternoon. With the rumor of free beer passing among the volunteers in excited murmurs, they began to disperse, leaving the camp in a state of suspended animation. Jobs were halted and instructions for the following day passed on through the appointed supervisors in red, who were also quick to remind the students and staffers not to show up too hungover the following morning, as the real work was only beginning.
Aaron was nowhere to be seen as the volunteers piled into vans and hybrids, faces lit up by their cell phone screens as they chatted excitedly. Grace tried not to panic that he’d canceled their date. He wouldn’t do that. No, he was probably holed up somewhere, working on something spectacular for the following day.
Grace was caught in the middle stages of dressing, sitting on her bed in the cabin with Old Man curled beside her, still trying to come down from the buzz of everything that had happened during the day. The camp’s functionality had grown by leaps and bounds in the matter of twenty-four hours…and then there was Aaron. What they’d done in the infirmary. Or what she’d done, rather. Wanted to do again at the earliest opportunity. Fingertips pressed against her lips, she remembered the way Aaron’s happy trail had looked, descending from his belly button. Black, masculine hair that didn’t match the rest of his polished appearance. No, there was nothing smooth about the way his abs had swelled up and dropped with sudden intensity, a physical symphony conducted by her mouth. Those hands in her hair…
She hadn’t brushed it since then and she wouldn’t. At some point, her locks would need detangling and those knots would be a trial, but tonight wasn’t for worrying. It wasn’t her first date, in terms of going somewhere with a member of the opposite sex. But it was her first time wanting to sprint toward the event like an Olympian. Her first time labeling an outing a date. If Aaron meant everything he’d said that afternoon, she didn’t have to hold back around him…at all. How was she going to handle the sudden liberation of everything she’d struggled to keep inside so long?
Didn’t matter. Grace’s lips curled into a smile. Didn’t matter. Aaron wouldn’t let her feel awkward or out of place. He might even be a little awkward himself. And if making that wickedly intelligent man act awkward wasn’t something to look forward to, she didn’t know what was.
Grace looked up from buttoning her shirt when Peggy and Sage straggled in, looking like they’d been off-roading in a convertible. Peggy’s curls were weighed down, clearly having lost the battle with exhaustion. Sage just looked shell-shocked. Belmont filled the doorway behind them, watching the wedding planner with anxious concern that immediately became a fifth presence in the room.
“Told you not to push yourself.” Belmont slapped his fist against the doorjamb and kept it there. Old Man leapt off the bed to go butt his head against Belmont’s legs, but the extra-large man only managed an absent nod before zeroing back in on Sage. “You’re limping.”
“I’m fine.” Contradicting her statement, Sage whimpered as she fell onto her bed. Which made Belmont look like someone had unloaded a round of bullets into his gut.
Belmont pressed his forehead against his propped fist and breathed. “Back in New Mexico, you promised me you would cut your bangs when they started to cover your eyes.” Old Man started to yowl. “If I’d been able to see your eyes, I would have known you were tired. Cut them tonight.”
Sage squared her shoulders, as if preparing for battle. “You can’t just order me to cut my hair.”
Tense moments passed with Sage’s words hanging in the air. They all held their breath when Belmont entered the cabin, his boots thunking on the wooden floorboards. He moved slowly, but his lack of speed was more intimidating than if he’d broken into a dead run. He came to a stop in front of Sage, who seemed to have no choice but to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact with the towering Belmont. Color leached from the room’s atmosphere as Belmont reached a hand out, brushing Sage’s bangs to one side, the way a giant might take care with a kitten. “Please,” Belmont said in a gruff voice. “I need them.”
“Okay,” Sage whispered, giving a wobbly nod. “Okay.”
Grace swore none of them breathed until Belmont left the room, the absence of his bulk making the cabin’s interior feel triple in size.
“Well. I’ll get the scissors,” Peggy said, pulling her suitcase from beneath the bed. “You’re all dolled up, Grace. You got something special happening tonight?”
The way Peggy asked the question, Grace knew Aaron had shared their plans. And why did that send a flock of birds winging in her belly? She was the girl Peggy’s brother was dating. “What have you guys been up to all day?” Grace asked, instead of answering. “I didn’t see you around camp.”
Peggy and Sage exchanged a sly look. “Oh, we’ve been here and there. Behind-the-scenes-type stuff. Real hush-hush.”
Sage still appeared to be in her mesmerized state. “Aaron is still up there.”
With a gasp, Peggy launched a balled-up sock at Sage’s head.
“Up where?” Grace questioned her, picking up the socks that landed at her feet, tossing them back to Peggy. “Where’s Aaron?”
“I’m right here.”
Hel-lo. That deep voice held the signs of strain, probably from repeating himself and issuing orders from dawn until dusk, but the scratchy quality only affected Grace more, sending a mudslide of lust and anticipation crashing through her middle. God, the way it would sound in her ear…
And all those thoughts hit before he stepped into the cabin. When he did? Yowza. The tips of his hair were still wet, the dark ends sticking out from beneath the black beanie. He wore a heavy jacket, but it was unzipped so she could see the thin gray sweater beneath, the way it highlighted the definition of his muscular upper half, the flat stomach disappearing into his snug-in-the-right-places jeans.
I can’t handle him like this. Dressed down and comfortable. Like she could tackle him onto the grass without worrying about ruining something expensive. Throw in his unwavering stare from beneath the edge of his beanie and Grace wouldn’t have minded if their date started and ended back in the mess hall tent.
There was more, though. His eyes were warm. So much warmer than she’d ever seen them, and finally, the softer edges of him were visible. The humor that had slowly gone from biting and sarcastic to conspiratorial. But still so Aaron. Right now, he was looking at her as if they shared a great secret together and she wanted that. Wanted to communicate in ways no one else understood. Maybe they already did.
“Yeah…” Peggy’s smug voice popped the fantasy bubble over Grace’s head. “You’re going to want me to shop for you more often, Aaron.”
“You might be right,” he murmured, coming toward Grace, propelling her heart into an erratic tempo. She expected Aaron to hold out a hand and pull her to her feet so they could leave. Instead, he stopped between her bent knees, leaned down to plant his hands on the bed…and French kissed her in a slow, leisurely fashion. Right there in front of his sister and Sage. It wasn’t over fast, either. No, it went on until Grace’s supply of oxygen ran out. “Ready to go?” Aaron asked, pulling back, his gaze glued on her mouth.
“I don’t know,” she breathed. “Yes.”
The edges of his lips ticked up. “Didn’t think I would kiss you with an audience, did you?”
“No.”
He made a warm noise in his throat, then leaned in to speak quietly against her ear. “As soon as we’ve been on this date a respectable amount of time, I’m going to return the fuck out of that favor you gave me today.” His lips grazed her lobe, sending a shiver down her back. “Those tights are going to be very easy to tug down…for what I need to do. Is that why you wore them?”
Grace was already nodding, her consciousness dwindled down to Aaron. Nothing and no one else existed but this dynamic man crowding her on the bed, making risqué plans in her ear. “Yes.”
“Why aren’t you touching me, Grace?”
She didn’t realize her eyes had closed until they popped open, the rush of pleasure pausing at the concern in Aaron’s voice. That same pause allowed her to notice her hands, which were balled into tight fists to keep from reaching out. But she didn’t need to keep herself in check, did she? No sooner had the reminder been made than Grace shoved both of her hands under Aaron’s jacket and yanked him forward, causing him to lose his balance and land partially on top of her, making the mattress groan.
But he only laughed that new, spectacular laugh, dropping a hard kiss onto her mouth. “Better.” With a regretful sigh, Aaron gave Grace’s forehead a nudge with his own, before standing, taking her hand to pull her off the bed. He glanced over his shoulder and gave a wry smile. “Turns out there is something that can make my sister stop talking.”
Scissors clearly forgotten in her hand, Peggy visibly shook herself. “Grace, what have you done to my brother?” She shared a baffled glance with Sage. “Seriously, did you hypnotize him?”
“Something like that.” Aaron threw an arm around Grace’s shoulders and led her toward the door. “Don’t wait up.”
* * *
Aaron wouldn’t think about parting ways with Grace after their date. In fact, he hadn’t even told his siblings they were hitting the road in the morning, because he knew they’d give it away somehow. Grace was more perceptive than people gave her credit for, and nothing was going to ruin her night, so he’d shot Peggy a quick text to be ready for departure just before leaving camp. And was now staunchly ignoring the incessant buzz of his phone.
Every inch of his body was riddled with pain. And it had nothing to do with the physical labor he’d thrown himself into after his meeting with the senator. No, it was a direct result of the catastrophe taking place inside his sore rib cage. The ache radiated out, delegating pain to other parts of his body, knowing the inexperienced organ in his chest couldn’t handle it all.
But Aaron had a lot of experience with avoidance. Tonight might be the biggest test of his skill set, but he needed the memory of Grace, too. Needed it to be untouched by his dread over the upcoming good-bye. Now, as he helped Grace out of the Suburban, Aaron drew on every ounce of his capabilities, pushing aside anger in favor of memorizing Grace’s curves as they slid over his body.
Grace tugged gloves out of her coat pockets and put them on, her breath puffing into the air. “Where are we?”
“Good,” Aaron said, relief easing the tightness in his neck. “You don’t know it. I wasn’t sure, since you grew up here.”
She looked around the flat courtyard, still white from the snow they’d received. Up ahead lay an old barn, lit up from the inside with a soft glow, music flowing out through the open windows. “I think I’ve been to this place, but never during winter. What is it?”
Aaron took her gloved hand, marveling over how easy the action felt, even though he’d never held a woman’s hand before. “I believe the technical term used was jamboree.” He blew warm air into their joined grip. “I asked some of the local guys where they were bringing their girlfriends tonight. And then I did the exact opposite.” Their footsteps crunched in the hardened snow. “I hope that’s okay. I really didn’t feel like talking to anyone but you.”
Grace ducked her head, but not before Aaron caught her smile. “That’s better than okay.”
Already, Aaron could tell he’d underestimated his ability to withstand Grace’s blushes and smiles and breathy responses. It took a superhero level of willpower not to throw her over his shoulder and lock them in a room together somewhere. Mine tonight. Don’t want to share. “So, I…” He sucked in a fortifying breath. “I asked Sylvia, the older woman who donated lunch, where I should take you.”
“You did?” She laughed into the sleeve of his jacket. “I wish I could have heard that conversation.”
“No. You really don’t.” He shook his head, remembering the way Sylvia had asked if he was planning to propose. “My mother was a chef. I think maybe that’s the only reason I—”
“Felt comfortable talking to Sylvia?” Grace stopped and faced him. “I didn’t know that about your mom. The little things you’ve told me…she sounds like someone who would be easy to miss.”
Aaron really wanted to keep walking and dismiss the uncomfortable topic, but Grace’s expression was so earnest, he didn’t want to let her own. And hell, talking about his mother couldn’t be any worse than not talking about her. “She left us this journal,” he heard himself say. “I have it. It’s in my suitcase and I can’t even read it.”
“Why not?” Grace murmured, stepping forward to lay her head on his chest.
He stared toward the barn, noticing the lit-up trees for the first time, extending from the barn’s far side, down through a grove of glowing trees. The Winter Walk. The reason he’d brought Grace there tonight. “I’m afraid to read what she said about me,” he finally answered, his voice distant. “I don’t want to confirm what I already know.”
It was the kind of confession he would have regretted if Grace had gasped or chided him for being ridiculous. But she didn’t. She merely slipped a hand up beneath his sweater, gliding it around to his back, leaving a warm path in its wake. “You’re not so difficult to see, Aaron. Your greatness isn’t so hidden your mother wouldn’t recognize it.”
He melted toward Grace, dropping his chin onto her head, wishing rather futilely that her touch could go farther down than his skin. “I don’t know. I think you want me to be good so much, I’m doing it involuntarily.”
She pressed a kiss to his throat and he felt the smile transforming her lips. “I’m not so powerful.”
“Ah, Grace. You’re the most powerful person I know.” He sank both hands into her hair, lifting the fistful of strands to his nose and inhaling. “I need to kiss the fucking breath out of you, but if I get started, there will be no cider drinking. Definitely no Winter Walk. Sylvia will be very disappointed in me.”
She went up on her toes to bring their mouths together, puffs of hot air clouding the area between them. “I’ll kiss you extra later.”
That familiar right hook of need caught him low in the stomach, tightening his muscles. “You’re the one who’ll be getting kissed.” He snagged her upper lip, sucking it into his mouth. “Tell me where I’m going to put the kisses.”
“Um.”
Goddamn it. No going back now that he was started. As long as he avoided putting his tongue in her addictive mouth, he might be able to go through with the date. But Christ, he needed a dose of Grace’s body up against his own. Just a reminder to his starving body he would give it relief later. Aaron’s hands dropped to the smooth mounds of Grace’s ass, lifting until she wrapped her legs around his waist, fitting her pussy against his bulge. “Um is not an answer,” he rasped.
Her green eyes took on a mesmerizing glean as she gave a long, unhurried roll of her hips. “There. You’ll kiss me there.”
Aaron shoved his forehead into the crook of her neck. “That’s right. Jesus.”
“You asked,” she breathed, warming the back of his neck. “I love when you ask those kinds of questions.”
“Do I ask them often?”
Even though he couldn’t see her face, Aaron could feel shyness descend, hear it in the quiet, breathy quality of her tone. “Yes, when we’re…touching.” When she swallowed, he felt it against his lips. “Like it skin on skin, don’t you? You’ve got a triple threat between your thighs, don’t—”
“Stop it, Grace,” he ground out, reeling under the unexpected impact of having his words from the night before repeated back. Against his mental will, his hands were jerking her ass closer, grinding her sex against his cock. “Actually—fuck, I must want to be tortured—but I’ve been meaning to ask you something else.”
Her fingertips slipped through his hair, nails creating exhilarating trails along his scalp. “What is it?”
Can I fuck you, right here, standing up? Wrong question. But a valid one. “Why are you bare between your legs?”
She lifted her head, zeroing in on his eyes. “Do you like it?”
“I like breakfast. I like John Wayne movies.” He licked the cleft in her upper lip. “I want to build a fucking shrine to your pussy. There’s a big difference.”
Grace’s smile turned a wrench in his chest. “The day I stole the money…the woman who came over to cut and clean my hair…she asked me if I wanted anything waxed. And, I don’t know, I thought I would give it a whirl.” Her gaze fell to his mouth and shot back up. “Maybe in the back of my mind, I thought the kind of women you like would have it done. Was I…right?”
Because he could see the answer mattered, he trapped the humorless laugh in his throat, where it joined the nonstop ache. But nothing would keep the truth suppressed. Not with their bodies interlocked, breathing in time with each other, surrounded by cool nighttime air. “You think I have the ability to look at you and remember anyone from before? Before Grace?” Her mouth parted, cheeks warming with color. Wow. He was a total bastard. How could he say that kind of thing to her, knowing he would be leaving? “Did it hurt?”
Grace stared back at him blankly until he tilted his hips, reminding her of their conversation. “Oh, the waxing.” She nodded. “Like a motherfucker.”
Aaron’s bark of laughter echoed off the packed snow, the towering trees. “I guess I have a love-hate relationship with this hairdresser I’ve never met, huh?” His lips lingered against Grace’s cheek. “She ruined your beautiful hair, but she made your pussy nothing but slippery for me.”
“My hair’s not ruined,” she whispered, a slight tremor in her delivery. “It’s back to normal now.”
His mouth twitched at Grace using the word normal to describe her hair. “I need to get you inside this barn soon, Grace.” He turned and trudged toward the big structure, Grace’s legs still wrapped tight around him. “I can’t decide anymore if I want to pin you down and just talk to you…or fuck you. Or, Christ, do both at the same time. I’m not even sure if that’s something people do.”
“It can be something we do,” she whispered, her words dropping like shiny pearls between them. “You just have to want it.”
His stomach lurched. “I wish wanting something was enough, baby.” Sensing Grace’s curiosity, he forced himself to smile. “Let’s go get our jamboree on. Whatever the hell a jamboree is.”