The Absolution of Aidan(43)

“Anyway, I’m off,” Mom declares. “Without your bodyguard?” I question. “Nope. He’s waiting downstairs.” She smiles not so cheerfully, kisses the both of us, grabs her purse from the table, and says goodnight. I watch her go, sadly I might add. Now, I’m stuck here with Dilan for god knows how long. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the guy is HOT. Screams total badass with tattoos covering both his arms and a face I’ve seen turn many women’s heads before. But he is not the man who makes my heart race, my pussy pulse, and my clit become easily aroused just by sitting down in a damn chair. There’s only one man who has ever done that for me, and I want him to come walking through the door and tell me how much he missed us before he helps put our boy to bed. It’s getting late. He needs to sleep.

“I’m putting him to bed.” My voice is trailing down the hallway as I go. I sigh for what has to be the hundredth time today, sit down in the rocking chair, and hum my child to sleep.

“I’ve never seen a picture so perfect in my life.” My throat is dry when I boost my dreary eyes up to meet Aidan’s. He’s tucking his phone into his back pocket, a quirky grin on his face.

Standing carefully, I take the few steps to the crib and place the baby down on his stomach then cover him with a light blanket. Aidan steps toward me and lowers his big frame over the crib, placing a tender kiss on top of his son’s cute little head. That sweet gesture, mixed with the fact he’s here, sends all my thwarting fury out the window.

“I will be throwing those pajamas away,” he says quietly.

“You will not. Seriously, Aidan, this is New York. Do you want your child getting beat up at school when he wears a Detroit Tigers shirt? We New Yorkers kill for that, you know?” I whisper back.

“I’d like to see some punk try to lay a hand on my kid. Not this boy. He’ll be defending himself by the time he’s one.” I roll my eyes. This argument will go on between the two of us forever.

“Night, buddy,” he says then grabs my hand and shuts off the light, closing the door halfway.

“How did it go?” He’s pulling me down the hallway, bypassing the vacant living room before he turns sharply into the kitchen. I hope Dilan’s gone. It’s blatantly obvious I didn’t hear Aidan come into the apartment, so how in the hell would I have heard Dilan go?

“Better than we expected. Can we talk about it later? Like after this?” He swoops me up into his arms, my feet lifting off the floor in a swoosh, then he places me on the countertop, centering himself between my legs.

“Well, all right then.” I lean into him, placing my hands on his solid chest, my fingers itching to touch his skin as I go. He feels good here. Like he belongs. I tremble when he slinks his hands up my bare thighs. Those enthralling eyes of his swallow me whole, taking in every part of my face. It’s as if he’s… I don’t really know what he’s doing. What he’s thinking.

“Aidan,” I say quietly. I’m beginning to worry now. This big man seems troubled in a way I’ve never seen before. I sit quietly, not knowing what the hell to do as he draws lazy circles across my thighs. We’ve had some serious talks during the past few days, learning more about each other in such a short period of time. But we’ve always ended up laughing or joking with one another. Teasing. We’re both alike in that strange, quirky kind of way.

“I realized one thing today.” Inwardly, I cringe. My hands leave his chest to cup his face. I search his features carefully.

“What, honey? What did you learn today?” This is the first time I’ve called him some sort of endearment. He notices, at least I think he does when finally, a soft smile lights up his face.

“I realized how short life really is, Deidre. How you and I have so much to learn about one another. How I have yet to learn how to be a dad. I don’t care how crazy this may sound or what the hell people might think. I want to know every,” he leans in and kisses the tip of my nose, “single,” he takes both of my hands from his face and brings them to his mouth, feathering kisses across my knuckles, “thing about you, Deidre La Russo.” Oh, my freaking god. I have never heard anything sweeter or tenderer come out of his mouth.

“I want that, too.” Good heavens. Do I sound stupid? I can’t help but think I do. “Good. Now, enough of being all gushy and shit. I want inside of you right here.” Well, that was short-lived, beautiful but short. I’m tempted to ask him why he said those heartfelt words, but my pussy is screaming even louder than my mind.