“I missed you.” The words pass my lips before I realize that they’re the truth. How is that possible? I barely even know her, but I missed getting to see her today.
“You… missed me?”
“Like a fucking limb.” My voice is calm and serious, but her laughter tells me she thinks otherwise.
“You always laugh at a man when he’s baring his soul to you?” I counter, with a hint of my own laughter in my tone.
“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” she volleys back.
My smile is huge, and I’m kicking myself in the ass for not calling her sooner. Fuck texting. I want her voice in my ear. “I’m on my knees,” I tell her. She laughs again, and I feel the sound deep in my chest. “How was your day?” I ask, settling back into the couch. It’s as if hearing her voice is all that I needed to relax.
“Good. We were busy again today.”
The smile in her voice is prominent. “That’s great, babe. Are you ready for our day together tomorrow?”
“All day?” she questions.
“Yep,” I say, popping the p. “You’re mine all day.”
She’s quiet for several beats of my heart and so am I. I give her the time she needs to work through whatever it is that’s plaguing her mind. “What are we doing?” she finally asks. Her inquiry is soft.
“I have some plans,” I tell her. “Is there anything specific you want to do? I know it’s your only day off. Is there anything that you need to get done tomorrow?” Whatever it is, we’re going to do it together. I want the entire day with her.
“I—” She starts and then immediately stops. I can picture her thinning her lips, as her hazel eyes wage a war of indecision. It’s a look I’ve seen on her every day this week when I mention tomorrow.
“Don’t censor yourself with me. I want to know what you think, what you’re feeling.” I wait for her to speak, and when she does, her words are softly spoken.
“I want real. Don’t pretend to be someone you’re not. I’ve had enough fake in my life. I don’t want or need more. If you can’t be you… if you can’t be real, then I don’t want you in my life.”
Damn. “Who hurt you?” My defenses are up. That’s not a speech from a woman who’s been cherished and told daily how amazing she is. Hell, I barely know her, and I already know that she’s incredible.
“We all have a past, Grant. Mine is just that, mine. I agreed to do this, and I’m not going to go back on my word. But I need you to just be you. I don’t need smoke and mirrors. I don’t want you to try to impress me. I want you to be you. Grant Riggins. Whatever that is. If it turns out we’re not into the same things, or compatible, then so be it. However, we will never really know unless we are both unapologetically who we are.”
No bullshit, that’s refreshing when it comes to women, and me and even my brothers. She’s new in town, so she doesn’t know who we are. She doesn’t realize my net worth, and she still agreed to spend the day with me tomorrow. Suddenly everything I had planned is tossed out of my mind, and a new plan takes place. I’ll give her me… something I’ve never done, but with Aurora, I want to.
“I’ll be there at nine to pick you up. Dress casual and wear comfortable shoes.”
“Casual? Jeans and a sweater?”
“Perfect. Maybe bring a change of clothes and different shoes for later.”
“I’m not spending the night with you.” Her words don’t sound convincing.
“That’s not why I mentioned it. We don’t know where the day is going to take us, and if you decide to have dinner with my family, I want you to feel comfortable.” I don’t exactly know what we’re going to be doing, but my original idea is not going to cut it. She wants the real me, that’s what she’s going to get.
“Grant, maybe this isn’t the best idea.”
“What? Of course, it is. I’ll be there at nine,” I say again.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Taking me out.”
“Because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on, and I want to get to know you better. I want to spend time with you.” Her sharp intake of breath tells me that she’s surprised by my answer. “I’ll be there at nine. Sweet dreams, baby,” I whisper before ending the call. I’m not giving her a chance to try and back out. She gave me her word, and I know she’ll be ready when I get there in the morning. Glancing at the time on my phone, I see it’s just before nine. I have twelve hours before I get to see her. That’s more than enough time to change the course of our day.
She wants the real me, that’s what she’s going to get.
I’m early, half an hour early, but I can’t seem to help it. I’m eager to see her and get this day started. I changed our plans last night, and I hope that the change is a good one. I had originally planned on taking her to breakfast, then a museum downtown, but something tells me Aurora isn’t really a museum kind of girl. I’m not a museum kind of guy. I was trying to impress her, and that was my mistake. Luckily for me, our phone call last night pushed some clarity into my mind, and I was able to get online and change our plans.
Climbing out of my SUV, I make my way to the back entrance of the bakery. There’s a buzzer just like Aspen assured me there would be. I press it and wait.
“Hello?”
“It’s Grant,” I tell the staticky voice. I can’t tell which sister it is, but the lock releases, and I’m quick to pull open the door. The frigid January air is starting to make my teeth chatter.
“Come on up!” a voice calls from the top of a set of stairs.
Not wasting any time, I take them two at a time. “Morning,” I greet Aspen.
“Good morning. She’s almost ready.” She steps back, allowing me to enter their apartment.
“Nice setup,” I say, my eyes scanning the small living room and kitchen area.
“Thanks. We got lucky that this apartment was fully renovated when Aurora found the building. We only had to focus on the bakery, and the commute to work is nice.” She grins.
“Definitely a perk,” I agree. Movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I turn to see Aurora. Her long brown hair is down for once and is falling over her shoulders in loose curls. She’s wearing a pair of jeans that mold to her curves, a long sweater covering her ass, which is a damn shame. She’s wearing a pair of black fuzzy boots with a flat heel. She’s a fucking vision.
“Is this okay?” she asks cautiously. I can hear the concern in her voice.
I open my mouth to speak, but the words are locked and won’t come. Instead, I move one foot in front of the other until I’m standing in front of her. Bending, I press my lips to her cheek and breathe her in. She’s not working today, but she still smells sugary sweet. “You’re perfect,” I whisper in her ear, finding my voice.
“Maybe I should change.” She takes a step back, but not far enough. Reaching out, I snake my arm around her waist, pulling her close.
“No. You’re dressed perfectly for where we’re going.”