morning and she had been vaguely troubled ever since.
“ They do,” Nash said. “But you’d be surprised how much size can intimidate a man, even one with a gun in his hand. And being in shape makes me feel more…in control.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Lifting has become such a habit now, I probably couldn’t stop if I tried.”
“ And the women of Summerville would be very upset if you did,” Aria said, with a wry smile.
Nash leaned closer. “There’s only one woman in Summerville who has my attention,” he whispered before brushing his lips lightly across hers, sending currents of awareness flowing from her mouth to every part of her body, making Aria feel lit up from the inside.
When Nash pulled away, she could barely remember how to breathe, let alone think of a witty comeback. Thankfully, the waiter arrived with their dessert a second later, granting her a reprieve, and a chance to pull herself together.
Pretend, it’s just pretend, she silently chanted to herself.
But as she and Nash laughed together over the mess Felicity was making of her cup of ice cream, and Aria fought Nash for the last bite of their shared dessert, she couldn’t deny how real it all felt. Or how much she wished Nash would be joining her in his big bed when they got home tonight.
Even when dinner ended and they escaped to the sidewalk outside the restaurant—strapping Felicity into her stroller and taking an after-dinner walk past the busy restaurants and shops of Main Street—Aria still felt the glow of dinner surrounding them, making it impossible to keep from twining her arm through Nash’s, and leaning into to him as he pushed the stroller down the street.
She was enjoying the excuse to be close to him so much that she didn’t hear the woman’s voice, or realize why they had stopped, until she looked up to find Rachael Wertz standing in the middle of the sidewalk in front of them, wearing a gaudy red tube dress and a dumb look on her face.
Rachael’s wide mouth hung open and her big blue eyes were the size of silver dollars, but it was the way her gaze flicked between Aria and Nash with increasing speed that gave Aria her first hint that Rachael Wertz was the Rachael, the woman who had broken Nash’s heart.
By the time the pudgy, balding man with Rachael said—
“ Well, Captain Geary, imagine running into you again.”
— in a tone that made it clear running into Nash was comparable to being stabbed with poisonous darts, Aria was sure of it.
Sure of it, and certain she was going to enjoy helping Nash get his revenge even more than she had anticipated.
Rachael Wertz had been a spider since elementary school—when she broke all Aria’s crayons in half. Through junior high—when she spread the rumor that Aria was a lesbian. Into high school—when she realized Aria didn’t care if people called her a lesbian anymore, and resorted to telling everyone who would listen that Aria was a slut with some kind of exotic crotch disease.
Rachael was a very nasty piece of work, indeed.
And Aria was going to enjoy the next few moments very, very much.
“ Rachael, how are you?” Aria asked. “I haven’t seen you in years. Hi,” she said, shifting her attention to Rachael’s fiancé, not waiting for Rachael to recover enough to speak before reaching a hand out to him with her most fetching grin. “I’m Aria, Nash’s wife.”
Rachael made a strangled yipping sound; Aria’s smiled widened.
“ Lee Otter, Rachael’s fiancé,” Lee said, gaze flicking up and down Aria’s body, clearly finding nothing to complain about.
Aria was glad she had worn her tight, sleeveless green cocktail dress instead of the long, black halter dress she had tried on first. She never looked better than she did in this dress, and for Nash’s sake, she was glad of it. He deserved so much better than Rachael Wertz, and Rachael deserved to have her mean, weasel-face rubbed in Nash’s happiness.
“ Nice to meet you,” Aria
“ They do,” Nash said. “But you’d be surprised how much size can intimidate a man, even one with a gun in his hand. And being in shape makes me feel more…in control.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Lifting has become such a habit now, I probably couldn’t stop if I tried.”
“ And the women of Summerville would be very upset if you did,” Aria said, with a wry smile.
Nash leaned closer. “There’s only one woman in Summerville who has my attention,” he whispered before brushing his lips lightly across hers, sending currents of awareness flowing from her mouth to every part of her body, making Aria feel lit up from the inside.
When Nash pulled away, she could barely remember how to breathe, let alone think of a witty comeback. Thankfully, the waiter arrived with their dessert a second later, granting her a reprieve, and a chance to pull herself together.
Pretend, it’s just pretend, she silently chanted to herself.
But as she and Nash laughed together over the mess Felicity was making of her cup of ice cream, and Aria fought Nash for the last bite of their shared dessert, she couldn’t deny how real it all felt. Or how much she wished Nash would be joining her in his big bed when they got home tonight.
Even when dinner ended and they escaped to the sidewalk outside the restaurant—strapping Felicity into her stroller and taking an after-dinner walk past the busy restaurants and shops of Main Street—Aria still felt the glow of dinner surrounding them, making it impossible to keep from twining her arm through Nash’s, and leaning into to him as he pushed the stroller down the street.
She was enjoying the excuse to be close to him so much that she didn’t hear the woman’s voice, or realize why they had stopped, until she looked up to find Rachael Wertz standing in the middle of the sidewalk in front of them, wearing a gaudy red tube dress and a dumb look on her face.
Rachael’s wide mouth hung open and her big blue eyes were the size of silver dollars, but it was the way her gaze flicked between Aria and Nash with increasing speed that gave Aria her first hint that Rachael Wertz was the Rachael, the woman who had broken Nash’s heart.
By the time the pudgy, balding man with Rachael said—
“ Well, Captain Geary, imagine running into you again.”
— in a tone that made it clear running into Nash was comparable to being stabbed with poisonous darts, Aria was sure of it.
Sure of it, and certain she was going to enjoy helping Nash get his revenge even more than she had anticipated.
Rachael Wertz had been a spider since elementary school—when she broke all Aria’s crayons in half. Through junior high—when she spread the rumor that Aria was a lesbian. Into high school—when she realized Aria didn’t care if people called her a lesbian anymore, and resorted to telling everyone who would listen that Aria was a slut with some kind of exotic crotch disease.
Rachael was a very nasty piece of work, indeed.
And Aria was going to enjoy the next few moments very, very much.
“ Rachael, how are you?” Aria asked. “I haven’t seen you in years. Hi,” she said, shifting her attention to Rachael’s fiancé, not waiting for Rachael to recover enough to speak before reaching a hand out to him with her most fetching grin. “I’m Aria, Nash’s wife.”
Rachael made a strangled yipping sound; Aria’s smiled widened.
“ Lee Otter, Rachael’s fiancé,” Lee said, gaze flicking up and down Aria’s body, clearly finding nothing to complain about.
Aria was glad she had worn her tight, sleeveless green cocktail dress instead of the long, black halter dress she had tried on first. She never looked better than she did in this dress, and for Nash’s sake, she was glad of it. He deserved so much better than Rachael Wertz, and Rachael deserved to have her mean, weasel-face rubbed in Nash’s happiness.
“ Nice to meet you,” Aria
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