her limbs were aching, and she could have slept another hundred years.
That man had stamina.
She sat up, and sleepily looked around. Now that she wasn’t caught up in a mad, passionate clinch, she could see that his bedroom was just as sparse and minimal as the rest of the house. No photos, no knick-knacks, just a massive king-sized bed, white linens, and dark wood.
Because it was only temporary…
Stella ignored the whisper in the back of her mind. It was way too early – in the morning, and in whatever relationship this was – to be worrying about that. Not when she had a palatial spa waiting in the next room, and time to enjoy it.
She set the shower jets on full, and soon the bathroom was a steamy paradise. No tip-toing across frozen floors to jump, shivering, under the flow. No, it seemed like every square inch of this place was heated; there were even built-in speakers, to play a sultry morning jazz playlist as she soaped up and let the jets massage every inch of her tired body.
Yes, this shower definitely had possibilities…
She’d been luxuriating under the water for an indulgently long time when she heard footsteps in the bedroom. “Stella?” Aidan’s voice came.
“In here!” she called back, and a moment later, Aidan appeared in the doorway, looking sweaty, his cheeks flushed from the morning chill.
“I can’t believe you went for a run,” she said. “I’ll have to work harder next time, if you still had the strength to work out.”
Aidan chuckled, “Are you trying to kill me?”
He had barely stripped off his clothes before he’d joined her in the shower, leaning Stella back against the cool tile wall and claiming her mouth in a sizzling kiss. “Good morning,” he murmured, running his hands appreciatively over her naked, soapy body.
“It is, isn’t it?” she answered breathlessly. And just like that, she was wide awake.
“I stopped by the bakery on my way back,” he said, casually turning her around and pressing her face-first against the tile.
“You know how to talk dirty to a woman,” Stella quipped, and he laughed.
“Oh, you have no idea.” Aidan’s breath was hot against the back of her neck, as his hands slowly, leisurely stroked over her breasts. “I got you coffee…”
Stella gasped.
“And pastries…” he continued, low and seductive in her ear, as one hand slid lower, between her thighs.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or moan. “What kind?”
Aidan’s fingertips dipped lightly inside her. “Cinnamon rolls,” he breathed, delving deeper, and this time, Stella couldn’t bite back her whimper of pleasure.
Then Aidan’s hand was suddenly gone. He stepped back, leaving a shiver of cold air where his body had been cloaking her. She turned, confused. “So, breakfast?” he asked, with a smirk. “I wouldn’t want your coffee to get cold.”
Stella laughed. And this man must have really gone to her head, because then she uttered the words she had never imagined saying in her life before:
“The coffee can wait.”
The coffee was stone-cold by the time they finally dried off, but Stella didn’t care. They ate breakfast together in the warmth of the sunroom, then she left Aidan studying his boat blueprints, while she dropped home to change, then hit the road to go collect Matty.
Usually, she hated this drive to Boston, back towards her old life, but today, she barely noticed the miles flying past outside the windscreen. She was still wrapped up in Aidan’s arms, reliving every sensual touch and heart-stopping kiss.
Was this really what she’d been missing out on all these years, playing it so safe?
No, she answered her own question immediately. She could have dated plenty of guys, but she knew without a doubt that none of them would have made her feel like this.
Aidan was different. His controlled exterior hid a playful, sexy side, and under the weight of responsibility he always seemed to bear, there was a surprising lightness. An irresistible smile…
Lost in daydreams, it wasn’t long before Stella reached Boston, and made her way to the Johansson’s house. They lived in Brookline, in a quiet, tony neighborhood, lined with old oak trees, already ablaze with fall colors. Mr. Johansson was an architect, and Rita worked as a corporate lawyer, and they spent summers on the Cape at a stunning beach house a few miles from Sweetbriar Cove. Matty had been friends with Bryce and Laurie since they were all in diapers, and unlike some of the other ‘summer folk’ who liked to pretend the locals didn’t exist, the Johanssons had