Sinful Ever After - Vivian Wood Page 0,21

between those two truths, especially when I realize that a fair amount of the paper is trash. Scrap paper, old gambling receipts, or unimportant ancient invoices for things like lawn services. Interestingly, at least two of the stacks have books of stamps at the bases.

Why stamps? Did this person think that they would someday be worth something eventually? I legitimately have a hard time getting into their headspace when I find stuff like this.

I’m all the way in the corner of the room, standing on a ladder and piling what looks like a bunch of forty-year-old mail into a pile. Aiden calls out to me from the doorway, although I can't see him.

“Hey Olive?” he calls. Then he stops and sneezes at all the dust I’m kicking up. My heart seizes up at the sound of his voice.

“Hold on!” I call back. “Let me come around to you.”

I climb down the ladder then shimmy around the very outskirts of the stacks of books. Pressing myself tight against the wall at one point, I manage to make it back without upsetting any of the stacks. Then I see him, unfortunately wearing his dark shirt once more. I step out into the hall and Aiden looks me up and down and grins.

When he speaks, the timbre of his deep voice makes the hairs on my arms stand up.

“I was going to ask if you want to ride to town with me, but now I don't know if I should,” he jokes.

I glance down at the ocean blue dress I’m wearing, a little distressed. I’m covered in dirt and grime, from the top of my head down to my once-white saddle shoes.

“I could look a little better,” I agree. Then I eye his equally grungy state. He’s clearly been working outside all day. “I don't think you can judge me, honestly.”

Aiden’s mouth kicks up at the corner, making my heart flutter. I remember suddenly why I’m infatuated with him. It’s moments just like this.

He looks over his shoulder. “That’s true. Do you want to come grab a burger with me?”

Like… a date? I know that’s not what he means, but I can’t help myself. My heart speeds up. My mouth goes dry, so I just nod.

“Ladies first,” he says, motioning toward the door.

Still tongue tied, I walk out of the house. Aiden is right behind me, touching my elbow to guide me toward where his Jeep is parked.

“My car is hidden on the other side of those woods,” he says with a nod in that direction. I slide him a glance as we head that way, trying to pinpoint my feelings about him at that moment.

I long for him to just look at me for a moment and then grab me and kiss me hard. I’m not sure that counts as a feeling, but…

He looks so damnably good right now, his dark hair in disarray so it falls just so over his forehead. Looking at the way his shirt is sticking to his skin a little makes me want to press my legs tightly together.

As we get into his Jeep, I bite my bottom lip. The whole cab smells like him, earthy clean male overlaid with traces of hard labor. It should repulse me, but instead it just makes me want him more.

God, why am I so hard up for him right now? I need to think of something else.

Anything else.

Rolling down my window as he starts driving the Jeep down the bumpy driveway, I stick my head out the window for a second. The warm summer breeze buffets my face. We drive like that for a while in silence before he says anything.

“What are you thinking about?” Aiden asks, looking at me idly.

You, I want to say. But I don’t. My cheeks start burning. The seat belt over my chest feels restrictive suddenly.

“Nothing. I was just… um… wondering what I’m going to find in the archives next,” I lie. It’s not the best lie. Not even a good one.

His brows rise a little, but thankfully he doesn’t press me. Instead, he teases me.

“Are you really that bored? Hmm? I take you away from your books and already you’re daydreaming about what you’ll find? Am I that uninteresting?”

God, of course he took it personally.

My cheeks go red. “No! I didn’t… I mean…”

Aiden grins at me. “I’m just kidding, Olive. You need to learn how to relax. Take up a hobby. Kitesurf, maybe. Me, I listen to records in my downtime.”

The image of him,