13. Simon

CHAPTER 13

Simon

I might be laying it on a bit too thick , I think as I look around the restaurant I’ve bought out for my date with Aidan.

My thirteen-year-old niece Portia likes to call me a “try hard,” meaning I put a lot of effort into getting people to like me. Granted, the cheeky little minx never objects when it involves me showering her with spa days and trips to St. Tropez. But as I eye the servers standing at the ready and the piano player tickling the ivories in the corner, she’s not wrong.

I might be trying too hard.

But when I locked eyes with Aidan Burke as he competently and yet gently placed a blanket around my freezing fucking shoulders this morning, I damn near drowned in his blue eyes.

I’m a bit of a romantic.

Am I physically attracted to him?

Fuck yes.

He is big and muscular and I’m guessing hard in all the right places.

But it’s more than that. There’s also something utterly charming about him. He seems protective and caring. His voice is deep and filled with self-assurance.

He has a crooked smile, for fuck’s sake.

I can’t be expected to stand strong against that.

Which is why I’m standing in the middle of this hushed and dim restaurant in a suit, impatiently waiting for him.

All while realizing this is probably a bit over-the-top for a working class firefighter from Chicago. As the third generation of a wealthy family, I take money for granted and don’t always realize how spending it so freely might come across to those who weren’t born with my privileges.

Too late to worry about that now.

In spite of what Portia claims, it’s not to buy affection. I just want people I like to enjoy themselves. In turn, that makes me happy.

Aidan strolls through the door, in khakis and a button-up shirt, and immediately draws up short. He runs his hand through his short, dark hair, an Apple watch on his wrist.

I walk over to him and pause three feet in front of him and give him a smile.

“Where is everyone?” he asks.

“Private dining event tonight.”

“There’s thirty tables in here.” He looks a little baffled, and his voice has dropped to a hushed tone.

“And they’ll be empty all night. I thought it might be easier to get to know each other if we can actually hear what the other is saying.”

“I think I’m underdressed.”

“I think you’re overdressed, but we can get to that later.” I give him a grin.

Aidan chuckles softly. “You didn’t have to do this,” he says, as he jams his fists into his pockets.

“I don’t have to do anything. I do things because I want to.”

The moment doesn’t feel right to kiss him, even though I’m aching to. With his hands in his pockets, I can’t even embrace him in greeting, and I can sense he’s a little uncomfortable.

So instead, I gesture to the table that is designated for us, right by the windows. The lake is an inky blue-black expanse beyond the glass. Snow and ice cling to the edges of the shore and it’s stark and beautiful.

“Have a seat. Drink? They can make you anything you want.”

Aidan takes a seat and looks out at the view. “Wow. This is all incredible. Thanks, Simon. But you didn’t really have to do this.”

“Aren’t you worth it?” I ask, as I sit, genuinely curious. He’s rubbing his jaw now.

My question makes him drop his hand. It picks at his ego, which I assumed it would.

“Oh, I’m worth it.” He gives me a cocky smile. “I just don’t want you to think this is…transactional.”

That surprises me. I raise a brow. “Of course not. Financial disparity doesn’t make this transactional. I take it you’re not used to being treated?”

“Uh, no. I was raised in a traditional family with working-class values. When I date women, I pay for everything.”

“And when you’re with a man?” I flick my napkin open.

“I still pay if it’s a relationship. But I’ve only had one boyfriend. Mostly, I date men casually and we split the tab.”

“If it makes you feel better, you can split the bill with me.”

His face blanches.

I laugh. “I’m kidding. Just sit back, please, relax, and enjoy yourself. That’s all I want. Order whatever you want and let the man who has money he doesn’t deserve to have treat the man who, I’m certain, deserves everything he has. Unless you want to go somewhere else, which would be perfectly fine with me. I just want to spend time with you.”

It matters to me that he feels comfortable.

Yet I’m also turned on by the fact that he doesn’t care about money. That’s rare in my world. I’ve got plenty of people around me, both currently and in the past, who only want what I can give them. Whether it’s material items, exposure to my social circle, or clout in the company, a lot of people want something from me. Those are all transactional in one form or another.

But no one acknowledges or admits that.

That Aidan clearly needs nothing from me is very appealing.

Aidan hesitates, then he shakes his head. “No. This is perfect, thank you. I just want to get to know you, too.”

I gesture for the server to come over. “I’ll have a whiskey, neat.”

“Can I get a beer?” Aidan asks the server, who nods and lists what he has available.

Aidan orders a domestic beer, and I fully relax. Aidan is obviously confident in being himself.

“Are you from Chicago originally?” I ask him.

He nods. “Born and raised. Third generation firefighter. My grandfather, his two brothers, my uncle. All firefighters.”

“That’s incredible. What a legacy. Siblings?”

“I have a little brother and sister. Raised by a kick-ass single mom,” he says proudly. “Dad went to the store for milk when I was five and never came home.”

I wince. “Ouch.”

Aidan shrugs. “Fuck him. His loss. My mom is a nurse, and she did an amazing job raising us.”

“So taking care of others is a family trait.”

“I guess so.”

“And you have been the man of the house since you were five.” That explains a lot.

“I guess that is also true. My mom never remarried or anything. She never even really dated. Too busy, she said.”

The server sets down Aidan’s beer and my whiskey. I raise the rocks glass and take a sip. “Well, my parents are still married, but they despise each other, so that’s not a great thing, either.”

“Why don’t they get divorced?”

That makes me smile. I’m too old for the relationship to be anything but an irritation now. I mostly see them separately unless it’s for large family gatherings. “Ah, that would require compromise and they are both terrible at that. My childhood home was a battleground. I was thrilled to go away to school.”

“For college?”

“Year three. When I was eight.”

Aidan chokes on his beer. “ Eight ? Jesus.”

“Trust me, it was preferable to rattling around in a drafty old manor house in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a suit of armor to play with. My sister is eight years younger than me. So I was happy to escape and gain the companionship of my schoolmates.”

“When you put it that way, that is an improvement. So how did you end up in Chicago?”

“My family has an American branch of the company. My cousin runs it. He also owns the Racketeers. Nathan Armstrong.”

“No kidding? Is that how you met Elise?”

“Elise used to work for me. She was my assistant’s assistant, and according to her, she was rubbish at it. She quit over a year ago. I ran into her two nights ago at the Racketeers game, and well, here we are.”

He nods. Then he pauses with his beer to his lips, lifting his eyebrows. “Was she rubbish at it?”

I pretend to glance around the empty restaurant and put my finger to my lips. “She wasn’t the best at it. But that’s our little secret.”

Aidan laughs warmly, and it washes over me. “I won’t tell a soul. I’m a steel fucking trap.”

“I bet you are.”

“I’m going to ask a stupid question,” he says.

“Anything.”

“What the hell is neat whiskey? I’ve always wondered that but not enough to look it up.”

It’s such an innocuous question I laugh. I thought he was going to ask me something difficult to answer. “It just means it’s served room temperature, with no ice, no mixers. Just straight whiskey from bottle to glass. It makes the flavor bolder. Hotter.”

“You like it hotter?”

Now he’s flirting.

A warm feeling settles into my stomach, and it’s not the whiskey.

“I do. I take it you know all about heat.”

“I know how to put out fires, that is true. Do you want to order now?”

“Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

He grins. But then he looks at the table. “I don’t see a menu.”

“You can order anything you want and they’ll make it for you.”

His jaw drops. “Oh, come on, that is just too much pressure. I need options at least.”

“No. Because then you’ll order the least expensive thing on the menu, won’t you?”

His face turns an adorable shade of red.

I chuckle. “Are you a vegan, vegetarian, pescatarian?”

“No.”

“Then how about a filet?”

“That sounds great.”

I turn, and the server instantly appears. I order for both of us.

When I turn back, Aidan is eyeing me. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make the server understand you need something when you don’t do anything? You just looked at him.”

“That’s his job. It would be insulting to him if I waved my arm around like a madman.”

He drains his beer. “I think you’re doing it to me right now.”

“Doing what?” My heart is suddenly drumming a hard beat in my chest.

“Letting me know what you want by looking at me.”

“What do you think I want?”

“Me.”

“Then it’s working.”

After we eat dinner and continue to casually chat and get to know each other as we stroll down the sidewalk outside of the building, Aidan tells me, “Our next date, I’m taking you into my world. I want to see you squirm a little.”

Second date. I love the sound of that.

I eye him. “You’re going to enjoy watching me squirm?”

“Kind of.”

“What will we be doing? Do I need special shoes?”

Aidan laughs. “Maybe. I’m debating between darts and bowling. Both take place in sticky dive bars.”

Dear God.

“Please don’t use the word sticky. I’m begging you.” I’m laughing with him. “But I’m willing to try anything once and I’m sure it will be highly entertaining to the locals to see the aging Brit attempting to bowl.”

The January air is like glass shards slicing through my face, but I steel myself against it, not wanting the night to end early. We’re just walking without a plan. The two whiskeys I drank have warmed and loosened me up.

“How old are you, if I can ask?”

“I’m thirty-eight. You?” Aidan definitely looks younger than me, but I don’t worry about age differences. I just like to feel a connection with someone, and I do with him.

“Twenty-seven.”

“And your life is where you want it to be?”

Aidan seems like a man who is very content with himself and his place in the world.

“Yep. I’m just missing a special someone.”

That both sends a thrill through me and a wave of regret. “Aidan, I don’t live in Chicago full time, just so you know. I’m here for ninety days this time, then back to London.”

He glances over at me. “That’s the same timeframe Blake has for this whole fake engagement, isn’t it?”

I nod. “I think so.”

“So let’s just have fun while we can. You and me, Blake and Elise, the four of us.”

I nod again, throat tight. I want to say more, but I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep. “Brilliant.”

“Hey.” Aidan stops walking.

“Yes?” I stop walking.

Aidan invades my space. He puts his hands on my shoulders and walks me back against the wall. His gaze drops to my mouth.

Then he kisses me.

He’s good at this.

That’s all I can think as his lips take mine, firmly, confidently, fully in control.

He smells like aftershave and something else I can’t put my finger on.

As his tongue teases my lips apart, lust licks at me.

But before I can wrap my arms around him and return a proper favor, he pulls away and gives me a smirk.

“I just wanted to say that.”

“That was worth saying.” I clear my throat, a little fucking rattled by this man, if I’m being honest.

“And thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome. Want to go to the bar at the hotel I’m living in?”

“I’d love that.”

“We can have a drink and text Elise.”

We start walking.

“How do you think that’s going?” he asks.

“Elise probably has him on his knees.”

He chuckles. “I think we’re all going to take turns being on our knees.”

We make eye contact, and lust has me in a chokehold. I picture me the night before, down between Elise’s soft thighs, lapping at her sweet pussy. Then I visualize being on my knees, drawing Aidan’s cock between my lips. Then him doing the same to me, taking me deep, his dark hair bobbing over my swollen erection.

“I certainly fucking hope so.”

Aidan groans. “How long of a walk is it to your hotel?”

I flick my arm out. A cab immediately pulls over to the curb. “I don’t walk unless I’m hiking in the woods. Which, come to think of it, I never do either. I was only walking now to be polite.”

He shakes his head. “You’re something else.”

“Something you like though.” It’s not a question.

“Definitely something I like. Definitely someone I like.”

I give the driver the name of the hotel and then I spread my legs out so my knee bumps Aidan’s.

“Text Elise,” I command my phone.

“What do you want to say to Elise?” my phone intones back to me.

“Make sure Blake buys you a ring.” I raise my eyebrows up and down at Aidan. “He can afford at least three carats.”

He laughs.

I tuck my phone in my pocket and place my hand on Aidan’s knee.