Alana clenched her hands on her lap and barely resisted kicking his shin under the table. What a disgusting little troll. “I’d actually prefer to pay for the entire meal, Trey.” She lifted her finger toward the waitress for the check.
“Really? In that case, I’m getting two desserts.”
Alana unexpectedly giggled. She composed her face, but it fell apart again when she laughed louder. She started laughing so hard she covered her face. When she finally settled, she peeked through her spread fingers.
Trey was all mussed brown hair, dopey eyes, and a slight grin like he thought she was laughing at something funny he had said. “What?”
Alana gestured to Trey and shook her head. “It’s just…you! Trey, you can pay for your own desserts. Fifty-fifty and all. Is this really what you talk about on first dates? Finances? You called me a gold digger! Sir, I own my own business and don’t need your money. I accepted your offer of a date because you seemed nice when we talked online and on the phone. But it’s clear as crystal we aren’t compatible. I wish you huge luck finding a woman to put up with”—she circled her finger at him—“all of that.” She thanked Belinda for the check the waitress slipped onto the table, tipped her twenty-five percent, then slid into her cardigan and shouldered her purse. “It was nice to meet you, Trey.”
“Well it wasn’t nice to meet you. Your loss!” Trey yelled as she made her way down the sidewalk. “Good luck finding someone to accept all of you. Your scar looks hideous!”
What an asshole. The humor fell from her face as all her old securities came flooding back. She wrapped her arms around her middle to keep from falling apart. Don’t let him get to you like that. She was stronger now. She loved herself. It had been a long road getting here, and Trey the Troll was not going to make her backpedal. Someone was out there who would accept all of her. He had to be. She believed there was a person out there for her, just like Lissa had found Todd and her dad had found her stepmom. It just hadn’t happened for her yet, but it would. Someday.
Stupid Trey for bringing up her scar. It was a low blow meant to hurt her. And it had. Her eyes burned with tears, but she blinked hard and kept them at bay because he wasn’t worth the emotional effort. Determined to avoid the fire station, she stayed on the opposite side of the street as she headed back to the coffee shop, or more specifically to her small one-bedroom apartment at the back of the building where she could regroup and again convince herself the scar didn’t matter.
“Hey!” Aaron’s voice echoed down the street, and Alana jumped.
Quick as a flash of lightning, she dashed her fingertips under her eyes just to make sure she hadn’t shed any of the moisture. “H-hey,” she greeted him.
He stood inside the garage with a heavy-looking box balanced on the palm of his hand. His blond brows were furrowed with a frown. Aaron set down the box with a massive thud, then strode out of the station until only the two-lane street separated them. He dragged his gaze down her deep pink dress, fitted to her boobs and fuller from waist to hem. “You look pretty.”
And then she lost it, eyes burning, lip trembling. Mortification swept over her. Her face fell, and she couldn’t meet his gaze. Trey had been awful, and Aaron had just picked up all the pieces that were breaking apart and put them back together with those three words. You. Look. Pretty. Damn straight, and screw Trey for making her forget that for a moment.
She could hear Aaron’s boots pounding on the pavement, and then he was there, hugging her shoulders. And holy mushrooms, he smelled divine. Masculine soap and body spray. Even his deodorant smelled good and, hell yeah, she was sniffing his armpit and crying and she would remember to be embarrassed in the morning when he wasn’t hugging her and making her feel all warm and safe inside.
“The date?”
She nodded. “You called it. He was a total doucheface.”
“Was he rude?”
Another nod.
A low, feral sound vibrated through Aaron’s chest, and when she looked up, his eyes were on the man scarfing dessert at Dante’s. “You want me to kill him?”
“Are you serious?”
Aaron’s eyes locked with hers, and a tremor of terror zinged up her spine. They were so light, glowing almost, reflecting oddly like an animal in headlights.
“Yes or no?”
“No,” she whispered through an accidental huff of laughter. “No, I don’t want you to become a murderer because my date was an idiot.” Her entire body was pressed against his, but she arched her neck all the way back to meet his eyes better. “You’re really tall.”
“Maybe you’re just short,” he said, the hint of a smile at the corners of his lips.
She giggled and sighed, thankful that Aaron had the ability to erase Trey with a little teasing.
Aaron rubbed her shoulders gently and cocked an eyebrow. “You’re a very aggressive hugger, woman. I think you wrinkled my shirt.”
“Passionate, not aggressive, and your shirt is weak if it is going to wrinkle so easily.”
“I think you scratched me with your claws.” Now she could see the white of his straight teeth as he drew her hand up and studied her nails. She wouldn’t admit it, but she’d told the woman who did her manicure today she wanted sparkly gold. It was the same shade as his eyes when he got riled up. She’d imagined those pretty gold-green eyes in a big brown bear, and secretly hoped she would get to see his inner animal someday.