She told her conscience to stuff it. “Did you find out anything about the dealer?”
He sobered, nodding. “That’s why I came by. I had a little chat with Jesse earlier.”
She shivered, and clamped her arms tighter against her sides. If she was honest with herself, she knew the chill had nothing to do with the weather, and everything to do with Aidan looking serious and purposeful as he addressed her problems. “Charming little shit, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.” He snorted. “Merc and I–”
She grinned. “Oh, damn.”
“ – managed to get a phone number off him, but he didn’t know the guy’s name. I called the number.” He looked sympathetic. “It’s out of service.”
She deflated.
“My guess is it’s a disposable, and he ditched it.”
“Makes sense.” She sounded numb and disappointed, and knew it.
“I’m gonna look into it, though,” Aidan said. “I’ll figure out who’s doing it, and I’ll shut it down.”
“You can do that?” Hope blossomed anew.
“Baby, I can do all kinds of things,” he said, grinning.
Her stomach flipped over. Her palms tingled.Baby. Yeah, what sorts of things? she wanted to ask him.Tell me. Better yet, show me.
“Wouldn’t that be very…non-outlaw of you?” she asked in a teasing voice.
“Nah.” He adopted that proud, cocky tone she remembered from all the way back in high school. “We outlaws like to be in charge of that kinda shit.”
“I see.”
He softened a bit, growing more serious. “I also told Jesse to stay the hell away from Erin.”
The words filled her with warmth. “Thank you.”
“Who the hell knows if he’ll listen, but he was about ten seconds from pissing himself, so he might.”
“Here’s hoping.”
Cue the silence. But it wasn’t awkward, it simplywas, a full beat of warm, unsaid things between them. Sam wanted to tell him thank you again, and it seemed like he wanted to say something, too, but she didn’t allow herself to romanticize about it.
“Well…” He fiddled with his helmet strap. “I better run. I’m supposed to have dinner with Ava and Mercy.”
“Tell them I said hello.”
“I will.”
It took every ounce of self-control not to hug him. She settled for smiling and waving him off instead. A poor substitute, but after all, wasn’t that her romantic destiny?
~*~
He was pulling into the Lécuyers’ driveway when he finally pinned down the sensation that had stayed with him since leaving Sam. Warmth. She made him feel warm, and what an alien thing that was, in his history with females. They made him hot, made him restless, made him horny and frustrated – but they didn’t leave him warm. Didn’t make him feel like when Maggie had kissed his forehead as a boy and handed him a cookie straight out of the oven. Sam made him feel like that…and also ravenous and in desperate need to push her shirt up and see what color her bra was.
Shit.
The little white house Mercy had bought for his bride looked tidy and fresh these days, yellow mums bursting out of pots on the porch, brilliant as the last light of day winked out of existence. The windows glowed with lamplight, a welcoming spill of butter across the sidewalk, the lawn.
He sat on his silent bike a moment, remembering why he’d come, drawing together the words he wanted to use. He thought about his sister bringing him food, forcing his meds on him, raking her nails through his hair like a good little mother after his accident. Mercy helping him shower, helping him walk. They loved him, truly. And he would entrust his dark secret to them and listen to whatever they told him.
