Page 51 of Some Like It Hot

I smile as I bend to kiss her, my lips hovering just above hers as I say, “I have all kinds of good things in store for you.”

And when I do kiss her, with a cocky Brit, and a smug firefighter looking on, the only thing I can think is damn, this was a really good idea.

CHAPTER 13

Simon

I might be laying it on a bit too thick, I think as I look around the restaurant I’ve bought out for my date with Aidan.

My thirteen-year-old niece Portia likes to call me a “try hard,” meaning I put a lot of effort into getting people to like me. Granted, the cheeky little minx never objects when it involves me showering her with spa days and trips to St. Tropez. But as I eye the servers standing at the ready and the piano player tickling the ivories in the corner, she’s not wrong.

I might be trying too hard.

But when I locked eyes with Aidan Burke as he competently and yet gently placed a blanket around my freezing fucking shoulders this morning, I damn near drowned in his blue eyes.

I’m a bit of a romantic.

Am I physically attracted to him?

Fuck yes.

He is big and muscular and I’m guessing hard in all the right places.

But it’s more than that. There’s also something utterly charming about him. He seems protective and caring. His voice is deep and filled with self-assurance.

He has a crooked smile, for fuck’s sake.

I can’t be expected to stand strong against that.

Which is why I’m standing in the middle of this hushed and dim restaurant in a suit, impatiently waiting for him.

All while realizing this is probably a bit over-the-top for a working class firefighter from Chicago. As the third generation of a wealthy family, I take money for granted and don’t always realize how spending it so freely might come across to those who weren’t born with my privileges.

Too late to worry about that now.

In spite of what Portia claims, it’s not to buy affection. I just want people I like to enjoy themselves. In turn, that makes me happy.

Aidan strolls through the door, in khakis and a button-up shirt, and immediately draws up short. He runs his hand through his short, dark hair, an Apple watch on his wrist.

I walk over to him and pause three feet in front of him and give him a smile.

“Where is everyone?” he asks.

“Private dining event tonight.”

“There’s thirty tables in here.” He looks a little baffled, and his voice has dropped to a hushed tone.

“And they’ll be empty all night. I thought it might be easier to get to know each other if we can actually hear what the other is saying.”

“I think I’m underdressed.”

“I think you’re overdressed, but we can get to that later.” I give him a grin.

Aidan chuckles softly. “You didn’t have to do this,” he says, as he jams his fists into his pockets.

“I don’t have to do anything. I do things because I want to.”

The moment doesn’t feel right to kiss him, even though I’m aching to. With his hands in his pockets, I can’t even embrace him in greeting, and I can sense he’s a little uncomfortable.

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