Inappropriately Yours (Camassia Cove #3) Read online

  Well, she was much more interesting, so there was that.

  The hostess returned with a digital menu and recommended the halibut burger with grilled eggplant and lime aioli. It sounded delicious, so we both went with that. After adding drink orders and two sides of sweet potato fries, we were left alone, and I was resigned to do the talking.

  In my personal opinion, I'd talked plenty over text earlier today.

  "Did you find out where Isla's staying?" she asked.

  "I did." I nodded. "I followed her to a swanky brownstone a few blocks away from here."

  Isla had been leaving the coffee shop when I'd arrived, so I had followed her and found Jack's address. After that, not much happened.

  "I watched a lot of PI shows when I was younger," I said. "I thought how cool it would be to have such an exciting life. Turns out, stakeouts are incredibly dull."

  Her soft laughter rang out, making me grin.

  "So what else did you do besides sit outside your friend's house?"

  We inched back as the woman arrived with our drinks, and then I gave Chloe a quick rundown of my day. Other than lunch and postponing my flight home, I didn't have a whole lot to say.

  I admitted I'd been optimistic to think I could pull this off in two days. Best-case scenario, I'd ring the doorbell at Jack's tomorrow night, and then a fight would ensue. I had my goal set for going home on Monday now.

  "I checked your website, and you're fully booked," I said, taking a swig of my beer. "I'll have to find one of your competitors tomorrow, but I promise not to enjoy it as much."

  "Aw." She pouted, though her humor remained in her eyes. "You know, I'm sure we can arrange something. There's a guest room on the third floor I keep for emergencies or staff that works late."

  Turning that offer down was the last thing I'd do.

  "I forgot to ask earlier when you told me about your daughter's book." She removed the lime wedge from her drink and licked her finger. Distracting. "How old is she?"

  "Twenty-six," I answered.

  "I see you started early, too."

  I smirked ruefully. "Isla wasn’t planned. Best mistake of my life, as they say. How old are your sons?"

  Four boys—I couldn’t imagine. Isla was essentially a younger, female version of myself. Working in my study with her cuddling close as a child was unlike anything else. I had a feeling Chloe's take on parenting was different.

  "Gage is twenty-one." Chloe's eyes filled with pride and love. "He's the protector of the family. Like Isla, he was a surprise. Gray is nineteen—somewhat of a troublemaker but with the heart of a sensitive poet. And Gideon and Gabriel…all trouble. They're fifteen, competitive, rowdy, and complete mama's boys." She grinned.

  I chuckled, picturing her surrounded by her sons.

  *

  Halfway through dinner, I'd filled in the gaps of why I was in Camassia Cove. Chloe hadn't understood my past with Jack and his involvement, so in between chewing and humming and enjoying one of the best burgers I'd ever had, I'd told her about college, how he and I met, and that he was an editor.

  "She's been up here a while…" Chloe lifted a brow. "Have you considered they might be serious?"

  I scoffed and laughed at that thought. "That’s impossible. Too big an age difference." I shook my head, amused, and stabbed two fries with my fork. "He's nothing like her previous boyfriends, either."

  "That’s usually the point," she teased. "How big is this age difference, anyway?"

  "Well, she's twenty-six, and he's forty…two, I think." I thought back and nodded. "Yeah, he's two years my junior."

  Chloe shrugged slightly and took a sip of her drink. "Love knows no bounds, Aiden. We're the ones who put restrictions and limits to the possibilities."

  I set down my fork and stared at her, and for a moment, I didn’t see Chloe. I saw Gypsy Girl. Her open mind and free spirit. She would've said something along those lines.

  I saw Louisiana, the humid summer nights, purple hair, and fireflies.

  The whole reason I had asked Chloe for a drink in the first place was to explain Gypsy Girl. Now I found it difficult and didn’t know where to start. Chloe had captivated me from the moment we met, but how would she react? She could storm out, though that didn’t fit what I'd learned about her personality. That said, she could definitely be disturbed by the book.

  "I guess I'll find out tomorrow," I said absently.

  Feigning casual, I finished my burger and tried not to look like I was lost in my thoughts. An act that lasted maybe thirty seconds. Then I was sucked in.

  The craziest things could inspire a writer, and I was bound to shock her. It wasn’t every day a stranger came up to you and said he'd written a book about you, was it?

  No, Chloe, I'm not a vagabond. I'm an author and a ridiculous dreamer, and I wrote a book based on my fondest childhood fantasies, and you're the lead.

  That would go over so well…

  18.

  Chloe Nolan

  I could tell Aiden was troubled by something, presumably the possibility of his daughter dating his friend from college. So I couldn’t think of any better time to confess I knew more about him than I'd let on.

  "I have a favor to ask from my son," I said, just a tad nervous.

  "Huh?" Aiden snapped out of his thoughts.

  I pushed around a piece of cucumber on my plate. "I was wondering if you could sign a book of his—by you, I mean." I waited until I could see it dawned on Aiden that I knew he was an author.

  "Uh, yeah, of course." He cleared his throat. "How did you…?"

  Find out?

  "Gray works part time at a bookstore," I explained. "Today, after picking up the flowers for Sunday, I saw your latest novel in the window. It was a shock." I let out a laugh at the memory. "I kind of blurted out that I had a date with you, and Gray got excited."

  Aiden smirked, though I detected uncertainty in his eyes. "I'd be happy to sign it for him. Hellbound?"

  "He said that one was brilliant, too." Here goes. "But actually, the book he referred to was called Gypsy Girl."

  There it was. The reason for his uncertainty.

  His forehead creased, and he averted his gaze to his plate for a beat as he shifted in his seat.

  I didn’t want him to be uncomfortable about what had to be one of the most flattering revelations in my life. "Did I inspire a character?" I hadn't had time to buy the book, but I'd looked up the premise after demanding Gray send me a link to the book.

  Gypsy Girl. A book, a girl, a universe.

  "That’s putting it mildly." He quirked a wry smile and reached for his beer, draining it in a few seconds. "Okay. I might as well get it out there and hope for the best."

  That confused me. "The best being…?"

  He chuckled. "That you don’t run for the hills, of course."

  "Oh." My cheeks felt hot. Part of me couldn’t believe he cared that much. Yesterday, he didn’t exist.

  You existed for him, though.

  As for me…

  Being deprived of sex seriously sucked. I was in my prime, for fuck's sake. Sometimes I acted like a bitch in heat, and there was no one to take my frustrations out on. Along came this handsome, sexy man, who had evidently rewritten our childhood. How was I supposed to keep it together and pace myself? At best, I had a couple days with him. Would it be so wrong just to go for it and enjoy the moment? People had casual sex all the time.

  How's that for running for the hills, Mr. Roe?

  "Gypsy Girl would throw a pebble at my window. That’s how it all started." Aiden's voice brought me back to the present, and I suppressed a smile of excitement. "Her clothes were always the same, shorts and a top, but her hair color changed every night. Purple nights were my favorite. She would show me something new, a realm, an era, a town, a mystery to solve—anything. She brought excitement to my life and showed me the world."

  I let out a sigh of longing, getting caught in Louisiana memories. If I closed my eyes, I could see it so clearly. Climbi
ng live oaks, riding my bike so fast my hair was flying, and getting ice cream when the humidity became stifling.

  I'd spent a lot of time in the South as a child, and I had come to life in the summers.

  "She made me braver," he murmured. "I suppose, in many ways, she was more my subconscious than imaginary friend. The journeys became wilder and riskier, and at the same time, I was slowly coming out of my shell at school." He slid his gaze to me, his expression rueful. "Just not brave enough to say hello to you before you left."

  I smiled softly. "I wish I'd known." First chance I got, I would drive over to the bookstore and get my own copy. "I haven't read any of your books, but I could've sworn you wrote thrillers and stuff like that."

  He inclined his head and set down his glass. "I do. Gypsy Girl was my one and only adventure novel."

  "Is it young adult? I assume…since they're kids."

  "Ah. Well." He smirked. Half cocky. Except, his eyes flicked away for a moment. "Age tampers with innocence. While our fictive journeys took place throughout my childhood, I didn’t write the book until after grad school. Gypsy Girl and the awkward boy grow up, so it's definitely aimed at adults."

  Oh.

  My dirty imagination raced ahead, and I took a long sip of my drink, feeling flushed. Fuck, I was hopeless. I would not denigrate his epic adventure by turning it into the kind of books I read before bed.

  "I can't wait to read it." I set down my empty glass, and he ordered new ones for us. I'd only had two, but I was a lightweight. The effects they had were coursing through me. It made me bolder, which I wasn’t sure was very smart.

  "You don't…think it's weird?" he asked carefully. "It must've come as a shock. I mean, you were practically my closest friend, and you didn’t even know. Then I wrote a book about it."

  I burst out a laugh and placed my hand on his on the table. "Shocking, yes. Weird, no. Or…hell, maybe it's weird—I don’t know. I find it sweet and flattering." Remembering he'd seemed uncertain earlier, I wanted to share something, too. "At the risk of sounding completely pathetic, I've never been the center of anyone's universe, not counting my children's, so this…all of this—it's just incredible to me, Aiden."

  In response, he gave me a half of a smile, not quite there, and he covered my hand with his instead.

  "I'm glad you didn’t react badly," he said slowly, thinking, "but I have questions for later about the rest you told me."

  He could ask me anything.

  Our drinks arrived, and the nice girl from before asked if we wanted dessert. Aiden raised a brow at me in question, and I could tell he wouldn’t mind. Neither did I, except I'd rather have it someplace private.

  "Dessert to-go on my porch?" I suggested.

  Aiden gave me a brief stare that seemed heavier than previously, and then he turned to the hostess. "That’s a yes on desserts, and we'll bring them with us."

  *

  "Any exciting plans this weekend?" Aiden wondered.

  "My boys are all coming over tomorrow." I wasn’t sure that fit his definition of exciting. "I turned forty yesterday, but you know how it is, birthdays in the middle of the week don’t really—"

  He stopped me on the sidewalk and came to stand in front of me. "You didn’t celebrate your birthday?" His brows knitted together in concentration. "You worked last night." The concentration was replaced by dismay.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. "You look positively scandalized."

  "Close to it." His frown deepened. "That’s a big birthday."

  "It's just another year." I smiled and linked my arm with his, urging him to walk again. I wasn’t about to get my flirt on in the middle of the sidewalk with a bag of boxed-up dessert between us. I had to get him home. "I take it birthdays are big in your family?"

  "More like crazy." He slanted a sideways grin. "Isla and I are pretty much on our own, so we make up for it by doing something nuts. When I turned forty, we went zip-lining in Costa Rica."

  "Oh, wow." My chest filled with that familiar longing. The book I was reading about the man who'd left everything behind to spend a year in Costa Rica had reeled me in with vivid images of jungles, volcanoes, and wildlife. "I've always wanted to travel."

  "Me, too." He inclined his head and peered out over the street. The sun was setting over the rooftops in the west, painting the sky in dark pink and burning orange. "I get to see a fair bit when I go on book tours, but it's not the same." There was something wistful about his expression. "I'm a loner by nature and trade, so I don’t want to vacation alone, too."

  That made sense.

  We walked the last bit in comfortable silence, my arm still linked with his, and when we reached the inn, my mind began racing. I had to stay cool and not show Aiden I could be quite the fucking mess in my everyday life. Keeping it easy and breezy was the way to land a summer fling, I figured.

  Maybe mess wasn’t accurate. I had a good life; it was just…I wasn’t satisfied with myself in how far I'd come. There was so much I wanted to do, and I couldn’t do any of that yet. No reason to let Aiden know such things.

  19.

  Aiden Roe

  Discovering that Chloe was merely flattered by the origin of Gypsy Girl derailed my thoughts. Before, it had been easier to remain a gentleman because the thought of revealing the truth of the book had prevented me from having any illusions about afterward. Now I wasn’t sure how long I'd be able to take it.

  Chloe popped open a bottle of wine, and we sat down on an old wicker loveseat on the porch. I was close enough to smell her subtle perfume, making it more difficult to think of everyday things I wanted to know about her.

  "Oh, God." She moaned softly around a spoonful of chocolate cake.

  I cursed internally, shifted in my seat, and looked out over the garden. Or as much as I could see of it. The sun had set, and storm clouds were rolling in, killing the last of the daylight.

  Never before had I wanted to be a spoon.

  I took a long sip of my wine, trying to come up with something to say or ask her.

  The coconut cheesecake I had picked sat on the small table in front of us, so I tasted a piece, not particularly in the mood for dessert. Unless I could eat it off of the gorgeous woman next to me.

  Good job.

  "You have to try this one, Aiden." Chloe dug out a spoonful of her cake and extended the spoon to me. Was she doing this on purpose? My gaze flicked between her face and the cake. "It's delicious."

  A ball of lust dropped into my gut, causing my cock to harden.

  I inched closer, making sure to keep eye contact, and my mouth watered as the chocolate hit my taste buds. The rich flavors filled my senses, and I chewed slowly, wondering what was going through her mind right this minute. Her gaze fell to my neck as I swallowed. She shivered, her lips parting. Fuck. I was going to get sucked in. I could feel it.

  Chloe let out a breath and lowered the spoon to the plate where it clanked softly. At the same time, she looked away from me, but it was too late. I was too far gone. If coming up here to Washington to confront my daughter and Jack was the main goal, the main road, Chloe was the trail that led deep into the woods. And at this point, I didn’t even know where the road was anymore. I could only focus on what was directly in front of me.

  "I…I had a really lovely time tonight." She spoke to fill the silence, and I watched her teeth sink into her bottom lip. I swallowed, transfixed. Leaning…forward… "Oh! I could put on some music."

  I halted, my mouth twisting into an involuntary smirk, and she fled the scene.

  She's nervous.

  Now, why did that only turn me on more? I was assertive enough—somewhat, anyway—but I was hardly known for being predatory. Yet, the hope that she might want more but hadn’t found the courage to take the initiative suddenly had me wanting to stalk her as prey.

  I rose from my seat and adjusted my cock, and then I ducked inside as the first notes of a song I didn’t recognize poured out. It was nothing modern. Reminded me of the South. Bluesy,
low, seductive.

  "Cluttered…" That was my first thought of her little living room. Cluttered and cozy and idyllic. Had I teleported to a cottage in rural England? Mismatched furniture with pillows and patchwork blankets, photos on the walls—a few frames crooked—and bookshelves with albums and stacks of CDs, low ceilings and a basket of firewood, all of which gave me a warm feeling. It was a nest. A nest of memories.

  An unbidden image of me sitting on the plush couch with my laptop flashed before my eyes, and I couldn’t see that working. It wasn’t a good space to write. Too distracting. It was, however, the perfect spot to sit down with Chloe and cozy up in front of a fire… Frankly, it was mind-boggling how easy that was to envision.

  A sound from the kitchen caught my attention, and I clenched my jaw. Damn my scattered mind. The pursuit continued after a brief break, and I found Chloe splashing water on her face in the kitchen sink.

  "Don't be such a chicken," she whispered to herself. I grinned. Was she giving herself a pep talk? "You're both adults."

  True, we were. I crept closer, keeping quiet. The kitchen was small too, half the size of the living room, and it took no time to step up behind her.

  "Can I help—"

  "Gah!" She jumped and flew around, eyes wide and a hand on her chest.

  I raised a brow and smiled. "—you with anything?"

  "Goddamn you, Aiden!" In a moment where she didn’t worry about manners or making a good impression, she slapped my chest. Hard.

  I quickly trapped her hand there with my own and stepped closer. Jesus H, she was magnificent. The fire in her eyes and flush on her cheeks sent a bolt of desire through me so violent that I shuddered.

  "You're so beautiful." I cupped her jaw gently, brushing the pad of my thumb across her bottom lip. She sucked in a breath, her pupils dilating. Water drops trickled down her skin in a few places, and it caused her long eyelashes to look thicker. "I've been nervous today, too," I whispered, dipping down slowly. "Nervous…excited…" I swallowed heavily, pressing my body against hers, and her quiet whimper did me in.