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ELEVEN

LENNOX

“Yes, Mom, I’ll be there. Send me the info, and I’ll handle everything else,” I say into the phone as I scan the park for Jill and Aiden.

“Your father wants to introduce you to someone, so make sure your hair is back to its natural color.”

With a laugh, I roll my eyes, though she can’t see the latter. “Mom, I’m not dying my hair for dinner at the club.”

During my next scan of the park, I spot Aiden. He’s laying a blanket out on the grass in the spot I showed him yesterday. The place I suggested the ceremony take place.

I head in his direction, my heart rate picking up.

“Lennox—”

“Sorry, Mom,” I cut her off before she can bring down my mood. “My client is just arriving. I’ve got to go.”

At the sound of my voice, Aiden looks up from his task and his face lights up. “Hi, Mrs. Kennedy,” he singsongs.

Thank God I already hung up, or my mother would be calling me back with a completely different set of demands and questions.

“Aw, she didn’t want to talk to me.” Aiden juts out his lip in a perfect pout.

I snort. “You know she never liked you.”

He clutches his chest in mock offense. “Go easy on me, Lex.”

“Please,” I scoff, pocketing my phone. “When you have a daughter, I can guarantee you’ll hate any boy who sneaks into her bedroom nightly.”

Aiden’s dimple pops. “It was just so I could kiss you good night.”

For a moment, the world fades away, and I can feel the way his lips would ghost against mine, the heat of his breath between kisses as he whispered how he just needed a little sweetness before bed. “Please, Lex. Just another minute.”

My grandmother caught us one time, and I swear she grinned at me for a week.

“And so I could give you your nightly peony.” He bites his lip shyly, the same damn way he would when he’d hand me my favorite pink flower. Did he give them to me because I love pink, or do I love pink because he’d given them to me?

Blood rushes to my face, likely turning me my favorite damn color, and I force the memories to fade. With a step back, I peruse the park, looking for Nosy McGee.

“Where’s Jill?”

“Just me today,” Aiden says.

A wave of giddiness washes over me despite my best efforts. Spending more time with Aiden is dangerous and stupid. We’re planning his wedding to her, not catching up on old times.

“So you decided on this venue?”

Aiden plops down onto the blanket and looks up at me. The way the sun lights his brown eyes is almost magical. “Nah, let’s book the beach.”

A frown tugs at my lips. It’s not that the beach location wasn’t gorgeous. I wouldn’t have shown him it yesterday if it wasn’t a perfectly acceptable option. But it didn’t feel like Aiden. Then again, what the hell do I know? The Aiden I know was a kid who lived to pull pranks, laughed his way through life, and was obsessed with making me smile.

This Aiden is a hockey star engaged to someone else. The dedication his career requires likely leaves little time for joking around the way he used to. It was juvenile to think he’d want to have wedding photos taken on the carousel—that he’d want his wedding in a park.

Not befitting of a Langfield or a Kennedy . I can hear the muttered words in my mother’s voice.

God, why does the idea that Aiden has changed so much over the years, that I don’t know him anymore, make my throat burn?

I grab a pair of sunglasses from my purse and cover my eyes before they give me away. “If this isn’t the venue choice, then what are we doing here?”

Aiden leans to one side and snatches up a basket I hadn’t noticed. “Lunch.”

Pulse spiking, I take half a step back. “Lunch?”

That damn dimple pops again as the boy smiles. For someone I no longer know, the expression is so familiar. That simple look is all it takes to set me at ease. “You can’t expect me to eat dessert before feeding me lunch.”

A laugh breaks free, making me feel instantly lighter. “I didn’t realize I was feeding you.” Even as I argue, I drop onto the blanket beside him and settle in.

Aiden opens the basket, pulls out two sandwiches, and hands one to me.

I pull it from its plastic bag, and when I lift the corner to inspect it, I snort. “Peanut butter and Nutella?”

Tapping his sandwich against mine, he grins. “Just like old times.” With a giant bite of his sandwich, he watches me.

“You realize this is pure sugar, right? We’re loading up on sugar before taste-testing cakes?”

Aiden shrugs. “I’m like Buddy the Elf. Sugar is an important part of each one of my food groups.” He pulls an orange soda from the basket and offers it to me.

I bite my lip to hide my smile. We enjoyed many picnics just like this when we were kids. Drinking orange soda and eating peanut butter and Nutella sandwiches while staring up at the sky, hiding from our families. Heads touching as we dreamed about the future.

I unscrew the top to the soda and take a sip, carefully avoiding looking at Aiden. Somehow sitting on a picnic blanket eating peanut butter and Nutella sandwiches with our thighs touching feels more intimate than any sexual encounter I’ve had in the last decade. “Is Jill meeting us at the bakery?”

Aiden knocks his knee against mine and grins. “Nah, it’s just you and me today.”

A shiver slides up my spine. “Jill doesn’t want to pick out the cake?”

“Jill doesn’t eat cake,” he says matter-of-factly. He tears off another enormous bite of his sandwich. “How are you liking living in Sara’s old apartment?”

The way he turns the conversation from his fiancée to me so easily should raise alarm bells. With any other man, I’d be concerned he was hitting on me, be concerned he’s a cheater, but none of those bells are ringing.

Because this is Aiden. Though this Aiden is mostly a stranger, there’s no doubt that he is an honorable man at his core. So instead of questioning his motives, I relax and take a bite of my sandwich.

Leaning back, I enjoy the warmth of the sun against my skin. “Honestly, it’s amazing. It’s like being in college again. Sara is always around. Her friends have become my friends. They’re the best. There are always people to work out with in the building’s gym. And the eye candy—” I nudge Aiden’s shoulder and waggle my brows. “It’s an all-around good time.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Usually, I’m all for sugar, but you should steer clear of that particular candy.”

“I’m more of a sampler, anyway. Just a lick here or there will hold me over. I don’t have a sweet tooth like you.”

Aiden sucks in a sharp inhale and proceeds to choke on his sandwich. Face turning red, he coughs and pounds his chest. “You cannot,” he says, gasping, “hook up with the guys on my team.”

Nerves skitter through me at the demand. “What?”

“By eye candy, you mean the guys in the building, right? They’re all players.”

I break out in a wicked grin. “I know. They play for the Bolts.”

“Lennox,” he groans, his face still red, beads of sweat forming at his hairline.

“Wow, pulling out the full name.”

Aiden sets his sandwich down on its bag and runs a palm over his face. “Unless you want me to beat up every single guy I play with, you have to promise me that you won’t go near them.”

“Aiden,” I laugh, even as a thread of unease curls through me. Why does he sound like he’s jealous? Why does the thought that he would be make me dizzy?

“Lex,” he says, his expression more serious than I’ve ever seen. “Promise me.”

I glance away. Shit. If we continue down this path, I’m liable to mount him. “I don’t sleep around, Aiden. I won’t go near your players, promise.”

“That’s not—” He sighs. “I wasn’t saying that you do.”

I plaster on a fake smile, ready to move on from this conversation. “I forgot to tell you—I signed you and Jill up for dance classes. The first one is tomorrow.”

Aiden frowns, his brows pulling together. “Lex, I’m sorry if?—”

Dammit. Why can’t he just let it go? With a hand on his arm, I give it a slight squeeze. “It’s fine. I know. This is a little awkward, huh?”

Aiden’s focus lowers to my hand, and I immediately let go.

His voice comes out a bit raspy when he replies. “Not awkward, just different.”

“It’s been over ten years. It’d be weird if it wasn’t a little strange, right?” I say lightly. At least I hope it comes out lightly. Nothing feels all that light right now.

As we sit side by side like this, it’s like time is unraveling. The years apart are revealing themselves through every word spoken.

When his brown eyes settle on me, I’m eighteen again.

Aiden angles closer and swipes a thumb over my bottom lip, his skin warm and rough. “You had a little chocolate,” he murmurs. With his attention fixed on me, he brings that thumb to his mouth and slides his tongue against it.

My entire body warms in a way that surely has my face and chest burning as pink as my hair.

“So you were saying something about dance lessons?”

“This one is incredible.” Aiden stabs the small piece of chocolate cake in front of him with his fork and brings it to my lips. “Here, try.”

Without thought, I open. When the flavor registers, there’s no stopping the moan I release. That cake is fucking orgasmic. Aiden’s left dimple pops again, and then he’s sliding my coffee toward me.

“God, that’s incredible.” I bring my coffee to my lips and take a slow sip to wash down the cake. “But so were the last four. Seriously, how are you going to pick one?”

He leans back in his chair, posture relaxed. “Already know what the bride wants, so we’re all good.”

The cake I was sure was already clear of my throat makes a reappearance and chokes me. Because we’re planning Aiden’s wedding. To Jill. This is not a date, Lennox . We’re not getting to know one another again. I’m planning my ex-boyfriend’s wedding to another woman.

Fortunately, before I have a breakdown right here in the middle of this bakery, a woman with a hot pink bow in her hair walks by, snagging my attention. The pop of color reminds me of my other assignment for today. “Oh, I need to see if they can make a cake for Josie.”

Aiden straightens, his eyes brightening. “Ava’s Josie?”

Relief floods me at the successful change of topic. “Yes. Her birthday is coming up, so Ava asked me to plan a little party.”

“How’d you end up in this job anyway? I know I asked at our first appointment, but I was a bit distracted, and I’m not sure if I ever got an answer.” The way he says it, in an almost flirtatious way, his eyebrows raising as if we’re sharing some unspoken secret, leaves me thoroughly confused.

“Sounded like a fun job.” I shrug and scrape at the crumbs on my plate with my fork, going for nonchalant. “I still haven’t quite figured out what I want to do with my life, so I’ve been testing out one career after another. I figure that I’ll eventually like something enough to stick with it. Kind of like taste testing these cakes. I like to try a job or a city out for a bit, take a few bites.”

“What do you think of this one so far?” The smirk he gives me is knowing. Like it’s obvious that I both hate and love this job because of him.

I lift a shoulder, focusing on my plate. “It’s okay.”

Aiden swipes a hand across his face. “Come on, you get to hang out with me, eat copious amounts of sugar and—” He scans the bakery, humming. “Actually,” he says, grinning again, “I think that’s reason enough to make this job awesome.”

Laughing, I pick up my fork and stab it into the chocolate cake that I’d like to box up and bring home, since this is the closest I’ve come to an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced in over a year. Does this count as non-self-induced? Someone else made it…

Aiden leans in, his arms settling on the table. “What are you thinking about right now?”

“Orgasms,” I reply without doing any thinking at all.

Shit.

He rears back, and his eyes flare.

Shit, shit, shit. Choking on air and embarrassment, I snatch my coffee from the table and tip it back. Though maybe it’s better if I just choke to death right here.

“I’m just going to—” I point to the bathroom and then book it before I mortify myself further.

Me: I’m going to need you to come to the bakery and light it on fire so I can sneak out the bathroom window.

Sara: Wait. Did you lock yourself in the bathroom?

Me: I can hear your sarcasm and judgment from here.

Sara: Impossible.

Me: Okay, Judgy McJudge Pants. I need you to not be so smart right now and HELP ME.

Sara: tell Momma what’s wrong.

Me: I hate you.

Me: But really, I love you and I need you because I just told Aiden I was thinking about orgasms while we were eating cake.

Sara: Told you that place is awesome. Can you bring a piece of carrot cake home? It’s Brooks’s favorite, and I love it when he licks it off me.

Me: Sara.

Sara: What?

Me: I JUST TOLD MY EX-BOYFRIEND I WAS THINKING ABOUT ORGASMS WHILE I’M PLANNING HIS WEDDING TO SOMEONE ELSE. CAN YOU NOT TALK ABOUT YOUR AMAZING SEX LIFE FOR ONE MINUTE?

Sara: Wow, all caps. That takes a lot of work. Aiden probably thinks you’re having a lactose reaction to all that chocolate.

Me: I hate you.

Sara: Love you. Don’t forget the carrot cake!

Breathing deep, working to steady my pulse, I survey the bathroom door, then study the tiny window. I’m pretty positive my ass would not fit through it, but it may be worth trying if it means avoiding Aiden. Then again, if I get stuck in the window, that would only ratchet up the humiliation.

Dammit. I pull my shoulders back and don my I don’t give a shit face, then head back to the table, letting my hips sway the whole way.

Aiden’s got his face buried in his phone, so I make a quick stop by the counter to place an order for Josie’s cake. Once the pink musical perfection is ordered, I force myself back to the table so that we can place the order for his wedding cake and get the hell out of here before I make a bigger ass of myself.

“You almost ready?” Rather than sit, I collect my things, making it clear it’s time to go.

“Sara told me to remind you to get the carrot cake.” Aiden holds up his phone, shaking the screen a little, wearing an eager grin like he knows there’s a hidden message there.

I groan. “I ordered her stupid carrot cake. And don’t ask unless you want to know the kinky shit she and your brother get into.”

Aiden presses his lips together and looks off to one side, thoughtful. “What kind of kinky things involve carrot cake?” Then he shakes his head. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”

“Which flavor did you choose?” I ask as I follow him to the counter.

“Vanilla with peach filling.”

I have to hold in my resigned sigh. I was certain he would choose the chocolate. Clearly, I don’t know the adult version of Aiden even half as well as I thought.

He chose a venue I never would have imagined he’d like, and now he’s ordering a cake that I’m pretty sure he’s allergic to. Let’s not forget he’s marrying a woman who isn’t me.

And somehow, I’ll have to be okay with it.

As the owner boxes up Sara’s carrot cake, I lean over the counter and whisper, “Can you throw in a slice of chocolate cake too?”