Page 16 of Accidentally Mine

It actually would’ve been kind of cute, if it weren’t my aunt. The woman who, until she went on her porn kick, I was convinced was a nun in a former life.

My aunt, not a day younger than sixty-four years, actually giggled. Speechless, I looked over at Brent, my face heating. He smirked at me as I realized he was still holding the groceries.

“Oh.” I motioned him forward. “You can bring those in here.”

I led him through the living room, where of course, my aunt had on another soft-porn movie. Two people, half-clothed, making out in front of a fireplace. Lovely. I caught Brent’s dark eyes lingering on the screen, but he didn’t question.

I needed to get these guys out of here before the movie progressed to full-on intercourse, or I’d never be able to wipe the blush off my cheeks. But more than that, I couldn’t let this progress, for other reasons.

As he brought the groceries in, I concocted my plan. I needed to be curt and not give him any indication that I was interested. Which I already knew would be impossible because my disloyal body had already given him too many hints that it responded to him in ways I couldn’t control.

“Just set them on the table,” I instructed, keeping my voice short. As he did, I wiped my hands on my sweater, trying to still the nerves. “Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”

He didn’t make a move to leave. The kitchen was cluttered with everything imaginable, the result of my aunt’s semi-hoarding, but his eyes didn’t trip over any of that. His gaze was on me.

I wanted to speak, but I willed my mouth shut. If I opened it, I knew I’d start to babble, which I always did when I was nervous.

Curt. Formal. Show him you’re not interested. It’s for the best.

Finally, he said, “Your aunt seems nice.”

I snorted. “That’s one word for her.” Then I forced away everything my heart was telling me and said, “I’ll show you to the door.”

He hesitated, and there was something dark in his eyes I couldn’t quite read. Something mixed with frustration. It made me hesitate. Taking a deep breath, I brushed past him, pressing myself against the wall, avoiding his touch and his gaze. After a moment, he followed.

In the living room, the television screen showed a woman, spread-eagle, as a man mounted her. I tried to pretend it wasn’t happening, that the TV didn’t even exist, but his eyes caught on the screen. Voice low, he said, “I haven’t seen this one.”

I had to laugh. He made it seem like it was high art. “My aunt knows all the epics.”

“Well. Maybe I need to come over for movie night one of these days.”

No. No. If I was going to get out of this town with my heart and other body parts intact, I needed to never see him again. I shook my head.

My aunt was having a grand old time with Ernest in the foyer, discussing who knows what, probably comparing Southie stories or having a dirty joke war. Her raucous laughter burst through the room as she walked in, catching the last bit of Brent’s statement.

“You’re welcome to. I can’t get this one to watch.” She hip-bumped me and pretended to whisper into his ear, though she said the words loud enough that the whole neighborhood could probably hear. “Prude.”

“Auntie!” I could have smacked her, ill health or not.

Brent watched me, a smile of amusement on his face. Then he shook my aunt’s hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you,” he said, briefly glancing at her before turning his attention to me. “Well. Goodbye, Roselynn. Will you be at our café tomorrow?”

Our café.

I knew I shouldn’t . I needed to concentrate on my aunt, on getting my dad’s affairs settled, his business taken care of, and his house sold. I needed to get that done and leave town.

Curt. Formal. Those words played over and over in my head until they lost all meaning. Because, as I gazed into his eyes, all I could think about was what might be. And the words left my mouth before I could even think about reeling them in. “Nine? Starlight.”

He nodded. “Nine.”

I was in such deep shit, I didn’t even know if it was possible now to recover.

When he left, I watched out the door as he climbed into the car, not looking back.

Marie pinched my side. “You know, we have my doctor’s appointment tomorrow at eleven.”

“Crap!” We took the T up to her neurologist every week, in Bunker Hill. She was right. How could I have forgotten? “Oh, my god. I don’t even have a way to call him to cancel.”

She patted my hand. “That’s all right. I can probably make it myself.”

I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “No way! I can’t let you go alone. I’ll just miss the café. It’s not a big deal. I can’t get too involved, anyway. I have to leave the city soon.”

She gave me a doubtful look. “Right. But he’s a hunk, isn’t he?”

I rolled my eyes and found myself looking out the window, long after the beautiful car had pulled away, as if I expected him to come back. “People don’t use the word ‘hunk’ anymore, Auntie.”

“Even so,” she said, winking at me. “I know you think he is one. You’re all red.”

I felt my cheeks. They were hot.

And no. I didn’t think he was a hunk. Anthony, maybe, was a hunk. But this man? He was something much, much more. I hadn’t defined it yet, but god, how I wanted to.

Dammit.