Home Sweet Home: A Sweet, Texas Novella (8 page)

In a repeat of last night, she opened the window and leaned out, buck-naked for any possible invading aliens and especially Aiden to see.

“How about a cup of coffee?” she called out to be heard about the motorized hum.

His head whipped around, and as soon as he saw her, a huge grin spread across his face. “Stay right there. I’ve got a better idea.”

By the time she closed the window and turned around, the thumps of his boots were coming up the stairs. When he entered the bedroom, he executed a softer version of one of the tackles he used to exhibit playing football in high school, and they ended up on the bed again.

And then he kissed her.

When they came up for air, he pulled off his clothes and climbed beneath the sheets with her. Tucked her beneath his warm body and kissed her neck.

She laughed. “You smell like apples.”

“You smell like I’m about to get lucky.”

“As long as you know your place in the universe.”

“I don’t know about the universe. But I promise, with you, I definitely know where I fit.”

With one smooth stroke, he made good on his promise. So good in fact, she had no choice but to sigh out loud.

IT HAD TAKEN days for Aiden to pick the rest of Paige’s apples. Sure, it might not have taken quite as long if she hadn’t kept distracting him by leaning naked out the window. Or bringing him glasses of sweet tea in that nothing little tank top and cutoff jeans. Or tempting him with warm, fresh-baked cookies—in bed.

In fact, it hadn’t taken half as long as picking the apples did to realize he’d spent nearly every waking hour either by her side, on top of her, or inside her.

In the mornings, they shared long conversations over coffee. At night, they moved those meaningful chats out to the back patio. And between the times they made love, they’d talk some more. Aiden wondered now how he’d survived all those months without Paige to talk to. Somehow, she managed to get him to open up. To share. And it felt good. Just like his PTSD counselor said it would.

In Afghanistan, he’d transferred his devotion to Rennie. Although the dog would often just cock his head at some of the things Aiden would say, he’d been a good friend and a great listener.

Aiden missed the hell out of him.

Having Rennie back in his life would make everything complete. But that would never happen. The military wouldn’t bring his dog back. No matter how much Aiden had begged, bargained, and pleaded, the answer had been a resounding no.

The knowledge that he’d never see his friend again just made his damn heart start to ache all over. And it was that missing piece of the puzzle that made him realize that no matter how hard he tried, he’d never feel whole. Never feel complete. Not even when he was lucky enough to have the love of a good woman.

While Aiden strolled through the Touch and Go Market with a cartful of groceries to replace the ones he’d devoured at Paige’s house, he realized that being with her was a hell of a way to feel good. To forget. It was the only time he actually allowed himself that privilege. But not a moment went by when he didn’t battle the demons that reminded him that he needed to let her go. Trouble was, he didn’t know if he was strong enough to make it happen.

“There you are!”

Aiden turned away from studying the ice-cream section of the freezer for just the right flavor to smear all over Paige’s body so he could lick it off. With orthopedic shoes squeaking and in all their flowered muumuu glory, Gladys Lewis and Arlene Potter, president and copresident of the Sweet Apple Butter Festival committee, came toward him at full speed.

“Ladies.”

“Aren’t you just a sight for my eyes,” Arlene said, running a wrinkled hand across his biceps.

“That’s not the right saying, Arlene.” Gladys frowned at her lifelong friend in a way that made the red smear of her lipstick look slightly scary.

“I don’t care what the saying is supposed to be.” Arlene scoffed. “I’m too busy looking at the pretty package.”

Aiden had never felt like a piece of meat before, but Arlene’s disconcerting once-over definitely pushed him in that direction.

Maybe he was just imagining things.

After all, Gladys and Arlene were beyond their golden years and heading into ancient status. They weren’t your typical sweet old ladies. Most folks in town said the BFFs leaned more toward the “looking for trouble” type. Still, he supposed he could just be blowing things out of proportion. Most likely they were just … spirited.

Even as Arlene continued to feel up his biceps, spirited was the expression he chose to use for them. Because God help him if there was anything more.

“We came here for a purpose,” Gladys insisted. “Quit yer pussfootin’ around.”

“Oh, all right. Ya big old party pooper.” Arlene gave his arm a final squeeze with a wink. Then she did some kind of weird shoulder wiggle. “You ever need some … company, handsome. You come find me.”

Aiden had never been more curious. Appalled. Or afraid.

“We need your help, young man.” Gladys wrapped her arthritic hands around his cart and started to push it down the aisle. Arlene followed with her orthopedic shoes squeaking loudly above the Muzak version of the old nineties hit “I Wanna Sex You Up.”

No doubt life could be odd. And Aiden had to wonder if somehow he’d fallen into the Twilight Zone.

“Where are you going with my groceries?” he asked after he followed them around the aisle cap stocked with graham crackers, marshmallow cream, and supersized bars of chocolate.

“We got to talk business,” Gladys said, grabbing a jar of marshmallow cream and tossing it in his basket. What the hell was he going to do with marshmallow cream? “Can’t do it in the middle of the frozen-food aisle.”

“Pshaw.” Arlene looked up at her cohort and tossed a bottle of caramel sauce in for good measure. “I’ve done it in the middle of the frozen-food aisle before.”

Oh, dear God.

Fearing for his life, or at least his sanity, he followed them. Because the hell if his curiosity would allow him to stay put.

“MARSHMALLOW CREAM?” PAIGE cocked her head as he pulled the groceries from the bag.

“Wait. It gets better.”

As he set the container of ice cream on the counter, then the caramel sauce, Paige asked, “Are we having ice-cream sundaes?”

A jar of maraschino cherries followed up her question, and he looked up to catch the humor in her eyes.

“You are the ice-cream sundae,” he said. “And as much as I’d like to take credit for it, you can thank Gladys and Arlene for the idea.”

“I … don’t know what to say.”

“On second thought, scratch that.” He folded his arms across his chest. “They didn’t give me the idea, they just dumped everything except the ice cream in my cart and told me what to do with it.”

Paige giggled.

“I can only take credit for the ice cream.”

“I guess I should be aghast that those two told you what to do with all this.”

“I know. They kind of freaked me out a little.”

“Those two never fail to surprise me.” She came toward him and danced her fingertips up his chest. “However, I’m appalled they didn’t think you could come up with the idea all on your own.”

Her sweet, smiling mouth was so close he just had to kiss her.

“Maybe they think I have too much sand in my brain from being in Afghanistan too long.”

“Maybe they just don’t know you as well as I do.” She rose to her toes and took their brief kiss to another level. “Then again, maybe I just need a little reminder.”

Curling her fingers into the front of his shirt she started pulling him toward the stairs.

“Wait a minute!” He broke free long enough to grab the ingredients for a good time off the counter, then raced her to the bedroom.

ALL WAS RIGHT in the world when you had a half-empty container of ice cream melting on the nightstand and a completely empty bottle of caramel sauce on the floor.

In broad daylight.

Paige gave a happy sigh.

“We really can’t keep doing this, you know,” Aiden said. “It’s not good for you.”

“Not good for me?” The vibrations still humming through her body after that knock-your-eyes-to-the-back-of-her-head orgasm felt pretty damned good. “I don’t believe I ever mentioned being on a diet.”

His silence indicated that party time was over, and his tenacious demons had just entered the room.

“Oh. Wait. Are we back to your leaving again? Have we opened the door and let all your doubts in on our private moment?”

“I don’t mean to.”

She raised up on one elbow. “But you just can’t help yourself. Is that it?”

“I just get to thinking—”

“Then stop thinking.”

“I can’t, Paige.” He closed his eyes and laid his arm across his forehead.

“Aiden. You just licked ice cream and caramel sauce off my body. We just had amazing sex. Don’t you feel good about that?”

“Yes.” His jaw clenched.

“And that’s the problem, isn’t it?”

God, he just broke her heart.

“You’re too afraid to let yourself feel good.” She knew he wasn’t alone in the way he felt. There were thousands of soldiers who had returned from war broken in some way, whether physically, mentally, or emotionally. She knew it, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept that the man she loved was hurting so deeply, and there was little she could do about it.

“You’re an amazing woman, Paige.” He rolled to his side, cupped her face in his hand, and stroked his thumb across her cheek. “Your patience is beyond comprehension. Being with you is the only place I feel at home. Your smile and your laughter take away all the pain. Temporarily. And that’s the problem. It’s not a slight on you. You’re not the problem. I am.”

So often in a troubled relationship, those words rang empty. But with Aiden, she knew they were true. Everyone had baggage. Aiden’s had just been overpacked.

“When I close my eyes … when I’m not looking right at you,” he said. “When I’m not touching you … it all comes crashing back. The sight of my friends being blown into the air. The sound of their screams. The smell of their blood. I miss my friends, Paige. I miss my dog. I miss feeling … normal. And I’m so damned afraid I’m never going to feel that way again. I don’t want to drag you into my own personal hell. It’s not fair to you.”

Paige let go of the breath that clogged her chest. She kissed his forehead, then his lips. “You’ll find your way back. I know you will. And I’ll be right here whenever you need me.”

“I don’t want to just use you,” he said. “That’s the problem. It can’t be all about me. If we’re together, it’s an us. But … I just don’t know if I can carry that weight right now.”

She chuckled to break the tension in the air. “Are you calling me fat?”

“No. I’m calling you wonderful. Amazing. Perfect. But I need to be someone you can count on. Someone you know will be there for you when you need someone.”

“I understand.”

He kissed her again, then got up off the bed. “I should probably grab a shower and get out of here. I know you’ve got things to do.”

“There’s nothing more important than you.”

“You’re wrong, baby.” He leaned down and kissed her again. “There’s nothing more important than you.”

When he turned toward the bathroom, she somehow managed to keep her tears at bay. “Aiden?”

He stopped and looked over his shoulder.

“I’ll be right here. Always.”

A WEEK LATER, Aiden stepped from the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, and went in search of something decent to wear that wasn’t camo or threadbare cotton.

After he’d been cornered at the Touch and Go Market by Gladys and Arlene and shocked to his toes over the whole ice-cream-sundae bit, they’d asked him to be a judge in the festival’s apple-butter competition. Apparently, the prior year there had been a controversy due to favoritism.

How could he refuse the passion behind their request? At least it momentarily diverted Arlene’s passion for his biceps.

But now, when he’d rather be enjoying the festivities from where he could blend into the background, he’d be thrust in the spotlight. With respect, he would listen to all the nice things people had to say about his serving in the military, while deep inside he thought of himself as a total screwup. He’d failed his best friends. He’d abandoned his dog. And he’d disappointed Paige.

Jesus. He was batting a thousand.

With a long groan, he turned his attention back to matters he could control. There were two sets of clothing choices in his closet. Military and ultracasual. Not much in between. He grabbed a freshly laundered button-down shirt off a hanger, then went to raid his brother’s closet for a pair of khakis.

Ben came around the corner in the hall and stopped in his tracks. “I don’t mind sharing a house with you as long as you don’t run around in your underwear.”

Aiden laughed. “I was just on my way to steal a pair of pants from you.”

“Got a hot date?” Eyes dark like his own assessed his face, looking for a clue behind Aiden’s getting dressed up in the middle of the day.

“Judging the apple-butter contest at the festival.”

Ben crossed his arms. “How do you rate?”

“Arlene Potter likes my biceps.”

“Arlene Potter likes everyone’s biceps.

“Yeah. She and Gladys kind of take crazy old lady to another level.”

“Ah, they’re harmless.” Ben walked into his room, grabbed a pair of khakis from his closet, and tossed them to Aiden.

“Easy for you to say,” Aiden said. “Arlene wasn’t feeling you up in the ice-cream aisle.”

“Thank God. You taking Paige to the festival?”

“No.”

“Meeting her there?”

“Nope.”

“Why the hell not?”

“None of your business.”

“You’re living in my house. That gives me the right to be nosy. So why the hell aren’t you taking Paige to the festival?”

“Because …” Aiden poked his legs through the pants and looked down to zip them up. “I’m trying to let her go.”

A whack upside the head knocked him off balance.

“What the hell did you do that for?” Aiden put a hand to the area of attack.

“Knocking some damned sense into that thick frickin’ skull of yours.”