The Proposition (The Proposition #1)(26)

She giggled. “No, that’s not it at all.” Nudging him playfully, she asked, “Don’t tell me you are actually underestimating yourself in the bedroom department?”

He grinned. “Not exactly.”

“I didn’t think so.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “No, Aidan, sex with you has been the biggest surprise of all in my crazy scheme.”

“A surprise? You’re sure not one for stroking the male ego, are you?”

“Stop fishing for compliments, Mr. Fitzgerald.” Emma cupped his face with her hands, trailing her thumb along the stubble on his cheek. “Besides, I thought I did a pretty good job of stroking you the last time we were together.” When his eyes widened, she laughed. “And in seven to ten days when I’m fertile again, I look forward to finding myself back in the bed of such a sex god as yourself—as long as you’re willing.”

“Oh, I’ll be willing.” He took one of her hands and kissed her fingers. “I could be willing now.”

She shook her head. “Seven to ten days.”

He groaned. “You love to torture me, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you then.” Emma gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. “I really do want to thank you though. My freak-out today…it wasn’t just about not being pregnant.”

“It wasn’t?” he asked, warily.

Drawing in a ragged breath, she said, “Today is the two year anniversary of my mom passing away. Days like these are always hard, but then realizing I wasn’t pregnant…it was kind of a double blow.”

He squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. I lost my mom five years ago. Her birthday, Mother’s Day, the day she died—they’re a bitch.”

Emma stared in awe at him, and Aidan felt surprised at himself as well. He had never imagined him sharing something so personal, but there was something about Emma that made him want to open up—to share things with her he usually wouldn’t dare. “Were you close to her?” she asked softly.

Aidan shifted uncomfortably as a reel of loving memories played like a movie in his mind. “Yeah, I was. Well, I’m still close to my dad. But my mom….” A small smile curved on his lips. “She was thirty-eight when I was born. I was the long awaited son to carry on the family name, and the late-in-life baby.”

“I bet she spoiled you rotten,” Emma mused.

“She did. And my four sisters.” He shook his head. “Jesus, it’s a wonder I’m not g*y growing up around all that estrogen.”

Emma laughed. “No, instead you became a manwhore.”

“Hey now,” he replied, nudging her knee with his.

“How about a manwhore with a heart of gold?”

“That’s a little better.”

She smiled. “Thanks for giving me a shoulder to cry on.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

They sat motionless for a few seconds, staring into each other’s eyes. Finally, Emma cleared her throat and stood up. “I guess I better head on home now.”

When she started past him, Aidan grabbed her arm. “Why don’t you come home with me tonight?” For a moment, he thought someone else was speaking. His voice sounded foreign to him, not to mention what it had suggested was a completely foreign notion to him. He rarely invited women to his home—it was always their place or a hotel room. Only long-time sexual partners crossed that barrier. But Emma was turning him into a total emotional pansy and making him break all his rules. First, he’d stayed the night with her, and now he was asking her to his house.

If he was surprised, Emma was floored. “W-What?”

“You know, so you don’t have to be alone with everything that’s happened today.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “I could throw some steaks on the grill, or I could make us some pasta or shrimp scampi.”

“You cook?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes, smartass, I cook.”

“I’m impressed. I had no idea you were such a triple threat. I mean, culinary skills, being master of the universe at work, and of course we can’t forget your bedroom talents.”

He laughed. “I’m full of surprises, babe.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip, and Aidan was sure she was waging a battle with herself on whether she should take him up on his offer. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“I’m positive. We can just hang around and relax.”

“That sounds heavenly.”

“Meet you outside in ten?”

Emma nodded. “Want to give me directions or just follow you?”

“I can just take you and bring you back to your car.”

“Oh no, that’s too much trouble.”

“Em, it’s fine. Why don’t you meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes?”

“Okay, that sounds good.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Emma’s mind raged war on herself the entire elevator ride back down to her floor. You’re breaking all your rules going to his house! Remember your ‘get in, do the deed, and get out’ mantra? Agreeing to let him cook for you and try to console you is sure as hell not a part of that. You’re going to regret this! She had become her own worst enemy.