The Worst Best Man(81)
She picked up a gilt frame. It was a photo of Aiden’s father behind his desk in an office, the city skyline outside the windows behind him.
“Tell me about your family,” she said.
“Why?”
“So, I know what I’m getting myself into with this gala thing this week.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Aiden wasn’t one to count on luck. Luck, as far as he was concerned, was a fickle bitch. Timing, preparation, and aggression usually worked more in his favor. But for some reason, that fickle bitch was smiling on him today. Frankie was in his home, making plans to step into his world.
All in.
“This is your first time in my place, and you want to talk about my family?” Aiden teased, stripping out of his jacket. He saw the hungry look in her eyes and reveled in it. Wanting, being wanted, with that intensity was new. And humbling.
“Would you like a drink?” he offered.
“Do you want one?” she countered.
“How about water for us both?”
She followed him into the kitchen and snooped through his refrigerator and pantry.
“Well, there’s some actual food in here,” she said, sounding surprised.
“What did you expect? Bags of blood?”
“Ha, vampire diet. No, I mean, I wasn’t sure if you actually lived here.”
He eyed her as he filled two tumblers with ice.
“Of course, I live here.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt you sleep here. But do you put your feet up on the coffee table? Do you make eggs at midnight on this fifty-burner stove? Do you pay bills and swear at the TV when the Giants are playing?”
Her definition of living fascinated him.
“I sleep here. I work here. Occasionally I eat here. I can’t recall ever putting my feet on the coffee table, but that might be because the designer referred to it as ‘priceless and one-of-a-kind,’ so that kind of billing most likely kept my feet on the floor.”
“Do you just lounge around in suits all the time, sitting up straight and counting gold coins?”
He laughed and handed her a glass of water. “Your mind is a fascination.”
She wandered back into the living room and flopped down on the sofa. She wriggled onto the cushion and then pulled her feet under her.
“This isn’t the most comfortable piece,” she complained.
“Your couch tries to swallow its victims whole,” he pointed out.
She studied him over the rim of her glass and sighed. “You’re just so perfect I want to mess you up and see what happens.”
“What’s wrong with me as I am?” Aiden asked, amused.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
He sat next to her and tugged her feet into his lap.
“I’m trying to wrap my brain around how we can fit together. Because if you think I’m going to prance around in sexy dresses and four-inch heels with my hair and nails done when we’re home alone, you’re going to be seriously disappointed.”
He shook his head. When he envisioned her here, it wasn’t in designer apparel and flawless makeup. He pictured her in sweats and bare feet, eating takeout off the coffee table. Or laying her head in his lap while they read or watched TV. Or naked and sighing in his bed.
“Are you trying to ask what my expectations of you are?”
She nodded, looking apprehensive.
“Franchesca,” he reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I want you to be you. I enjoy spending time with you. Not some carbon copy of every other celebutante in the borough.”
“I can’t believe you know that word,” she joked. But she was rubbing her cheek against his palm, and he saw the nerves in her beautiful face.
“Tonight was fun. And not just the limo. I enjoyed taking you out, showing you off, and spending time with people who are important to us both.”
She nodded, looking wary.
“But I also love being with you in Brooklyn. Exploring those hole-in-the-wall restaurants, sleeping in your drafty fire trap. Hanging out with your brothers. I like all that, too.”
“You’ll still do those things even though I’ve crossed the river?”
“Sweetheart, did you think I’d stop giving just because you started?”
He didn’t know who was more surprised when her eyes clouded with tears. “Hey, what is it?” he asked, pulling her into his lap.
She shook her head, curls shivering from the movement.
“I feel awful. I want to say that I was just trying to protect myself, but I think part of me wanted to make you eat your words about all this being temporary. I wanted to prove to you that I’d be important to you.”
“Well, mission accomplished. Franchesca, you’re very important to me. Don’t doubt that.”
“I feel like I Aidened you.”
He laughed softly. “I don’t know what that means.”
“It means I know that you get off on the chase, and I made you work hard. I think I manipulated you whether I consciously meant to or not.”
“And you think now that the chase is over I won’t be interested,” he guessed.
“I don’t know. I just, it’s not like me to hurt someone on purpose. And I’m sorry, Aiden. I truly am. The more I get to know you, the more clear it is that you’re… great.”