Window Shopping(39)

But it hasn’t yet. Not completely.

Everything is still foreign. This version of me is foreign.

Last time I was free to make my own decisions, most of them were bad ones. Now I’m supposed to believe I can just magically be this person who makes the right choices? That I can just step into this role of a professional? A girlfriend?

And Aiden…I know he senses the uncertainties in me. That he wants to be my knight in shining armor. I can’t let him. I can’t take advantage. But maybe if we can just…explore being together quietly for a while, someday soon I’ll be healthy enough to be my own knight. Healthy enough to sign my name on a dotted line beside someone like this.

Like Aiden.

The man who is currently sliding into the rear leather seat beside me, twining our fingers together. Asking for my address, then giving it to Keith. I catch a glimpse of the driver’s face in the rearview mirror—and he’s definitely battling a smile. But he reaches up and presses a button to raise the partition and once again, it’s just me and Aiden, my cheap puffer jacket pressed to his expensive knee-length winter coat, his height and size making me feel almost dainty in comparison. And when he presses a firm thumb to the pulse at the small of my wrist, it’s like he’s touching me everywhere at once.

We both watch as I cross my legs tight, tamping down on the free fall below my belly button. Both of us let out a shaky breath.

“Traffic isn’t bad going downtown,” he says, tracing a slow circle onto my knee with his middle finger. “We should be there in less than ten minutes.”

My nod is jerky.

Ten minutes.

Then I can turn my mind off. I’m not going to think about paperwork or how I couldn’t possibly be the right person for this man. I’m not going to speculate on what Nicole would say about my shaky new life. I’m just going to let myself feel, let myself get lost and ask questions tomorrow. Or the day after that. I’ll know when I get there.

Hopefully.

“Did you say hello to Jordyn or anyone?” I half-whisper, the restraint between us thin enough to be slashed to ribbons by a decent gust of wind. “Upstairs, I mean?”

He exhales, shifts in his seat. “No. I started to head over when I arrived, but I didn’t want to stop everyone mid-conversation. Or make everyone tense. They have to be on their best behavior all day. No sense in forcing them into it after hours, too.”

“What?” I scan his face to make sure he’s serious. “You’re not that kind of boss, Aiden. If anything, you’d put them at ease.”

He nods, but he clearly doesn’t believe me. “Thank you, Stella.”

“I really mean it, though.” This is crazy. In my need for this man to understand he’s wonderful, my heart is pounding. What is happening to me? “You really don’t think your employees would enjoy getting to know you more?”

“Not everyone likes my Aunt Edna stories, Stella.”

“Well, they’re wrong.”

“I mean that as kind of a metaphor. For…” Absently, he gestures to himself. “This. Me. Sometimes people just want to complain. They don’t feel like they can do that around me. Take Leland—my assistant. Sometimes I haven’t even said good morning yet and he tells me to stop judging him.” I’m deep in a fantasy about giving this faceless Leland a swift kick in the ass when Aiden continues. “Thing is, sometimes I want to complain, too. Want to just give in and call it a bad day. It’s just that…back when I had a lot of those, the positivity is how I learned to cope.” His brow furrows. “Now I don’t know how to do anything but lean on it.”

“Even when you’re unhappy,” I say softly.

“Yeah.” I move our joined hands into my lap and he watches it happen. Swallows hard behind his collar. “I don’t enjoy being unhappy, so I ignore it.” His gaze lifts, tracing my features in the near darkness, streetlights hiding and revealing his face at intervals. “For the record, I’m the furthest a man can get from unhappiness right now.”

Goosebumps tickle to life along my arms, warmth pooling in the lowest region of my belly. “Good. I’ll try and keep you that way tonight.”

“Me first,” he says thickly.

Our uneven exhales mingle in the warm backseat. The sexually deprived part of me wants to climb onto his lap in this moment, but there’s an even more compelling desire to dig deeper into what he’s telling me. To know Aiden better. It’s like a gasoline tank has sprung into existence inside of me and until it’s full of Aiden facts, I’ll be running on empty. “When are you unhappy?”

He starts to talk, stops. Lets out a husky chuckle. “It’s even hard to admit it out loud.” I squeeze his hand and he transfers our joined grip to the hard slab of his thigh, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles on my knuckles. “Vivant was in trouble around five years back. My grandfather had passed and they were getting ready to close the doors. I’d made some money on a side business down in Tennessee, while I was still in school. Did I ever tell you Uncle Hank was a beekeeper? Well I went door to door selling that honey in mason jars until we had enough capital to package it properly and buy into trade shows. We sold out and it went from there—”

“Hold on.” I press a hand to my chest. “I’m still picturing you ringing doorbells in your bow tie. You must have made a killing.”