She couldn't confess that to Kimmie-although it would probably crack her up and make her slap her on the shoulder before saying something like, "Ya nasty, but I love you."
She got back into her clothes, snagged the items she planned to buy, and then tucked the lingerie into the stack of items she didn't want. She kind of hid it in the pile, not wanting anyone to see that she'd even had it in the dressing room. She wasn't sure why the idea embarrassed her-especially after she'd decided to buy the skirt she'd imagined wearing without undergarments-but it did.
"You're no fun," Kimmie said, grumbling when she saw the lingerie wasn't in the keep pile. "You could at least mess with the man's mind."
"Trust me, the last thing Aiden Kelley needs is for me to mess with his mind. He has enough going on without it."
Kimmie squinted at her. "There is something else going on. And I'm getting that you can't tell me whatever it is."
"I can't," Chelsea agreed.
"But I don't need to know it to give you a little advice."
Kimmie went silent as Chelsea paid for her purchases and waited for the cashier to bag them up. Once they were back in the main hallway of the mall, though, she directed Chelsea over to a bench. Facing her, she took both her hands in her own.
"You can't tell me about whatever it is, but like I said, I have some advice."
"Advise away, oh wise one." Chelsea glanced across the hall and said, "Then I'll buy you a coffee."
"I'll take you up on that. Okay, I want you to remember one thing on this trip, the most important thing. You are valuable. You deserve love. He's not better than you; he's richer than you. At the end of the day, Aiden Kelley is just a person and so, if something happens … "
Chelsea rolled her eyes. "Nothing is going to happen." Even if, for just a second, it had felt like something weighted the air between her and Aiden for a moment there.
Even if part of her was so damn curious about what his lips would feel like against her own.
"Fine. If nothing happens, then I wasted five minutes of your time. But promise me you'll remember that. Because I think you're freaking awesome, and I wish you could see yourself the way I see you." Kimmie stared her down until Chelsea misted up a little.
"Got it. I'm special. And I love you, Kimmie."
They hugged and then headed over toward the coffee, but Chelsea didn't blow off her friend's words. Instead, she tried to let them soak in, to become part of what she believed about herself.
Not that it would matter, but still …
Chapter Five
Chelsea
The car wasn't a car at all. It was clearly an SUV, probably with extra features like security glass and who knew what else. Chelsea wasn't sure why she expected something else, but the black government-looking vehicle said nothing of the family road trips she remembered from her own childhood and a lot about cold, stuffy, sterile efficiency. Someone had already stowed their bags in the closed roof rack, and a man in a uniform held the door open as he waited for her to jump in the back. "We have a driver?" she asked. Another identical vehicle was parked behind them, full of what she assumed must be security. "And we're bringing security?"
She wasn't sure that she really expected Aiden to answer, but he spoke from too close behind her, jarring her senses and making her startle. "Of course we do. I can't drive."
Glancing at him over her shoulder, she raised one brow. "You can't drive, but you thought we should drive across country? Do you even know how to road trip?"
He shrugged, looking ruggedly but boyishly handsome in designer jeans and a white button-down shirt. "I've lived in cities my whole life. When I was a kid, I used public transport. When we visited the old country, I rode a bike, walked, or used the damnable buses that never are on time or don't stop to pick you up. Now? I have a driver. Never had a reason to learn, to be honest. Can you drive?"
Blinking at him, she tried to process all that. "The old country?"
With a laugh, he slung an arm across her shoulders. "Ireland, lass. Don't tell me you're not familiar with th' ol' country." He shook his head slowly, but the heavy accent on his words made her shiver. She had a thing for accents, most especially Irish ones. He might not know it, but he was really turning her on with that sexy way of talking.
"I know what Ireland is," she snapped, as if her being cranky would relieve the attraction his voice caused. "I've just never heard you call it that before."