Page 83 of Winning the Nightcap

“You chose this spot because…you remembered that I…” I stumble over my words, unable to accept that he is this goddamn perfect.

“I told you; I remember everything about the weekend I met you, Bec. What you said about being in a place like this…how it would make you feel. I wanted to give you that. And I selfishly wanted to feel it with you.”

I turn over my shoulder to look at him. “How did I ever think you could be my perfect one-night stand?” I huff out a laugh of disbelief.

“I would have begged for more,” he says seriously. “One taste, and I was lost to you. Even the idea of you was enough to hook me forever.”

Being lost to Aiden feels like it might be the place I finally find myself. The man I was terrified of getting close to may just be everything I never dreamed could be mine. I run my hands over his arms, which are still wrapped tightly around my stomach, soaking in his affection like the sun’s rays on my skin warming me inside and out in this place that makes me feel invincible.

Chapter Fifty

Aiden

“Fuck. Shit. Ow,” I yell, dropping the pan with a loud clatter on the stove top. Then I hear the smoke detector go off. “Goddammit,” I mumble. I jog around waving a spare baking sheet in the air underneath the alarm until it falls silent. The only sound left is my heavy breathing.

“Uh, everything okay over there, chef?” Bec asks from the living room. I turn around to find her watching me, her arm draped over the back of the couch, which faces a wall of windows with a stunning view of the sun setting behind the mountains. I picked this cabin specifically because of how isolated it is and the view she’s supposed to be facing now. Instead, she’s watching me absolutely destroy dinner with a smirk on her face.

I run my hand through my hair roughly, tugging on the ends knowing I’m fucking up this meal and my dumbass didn’t bring a plan B. We’re a good distance from the closest grocery store, and since we opted for a late dinner so we could fuck over the rail of the balcony as soon as we got here, the store will be closed before we can make it in time to grab more food. Can’t say I regret a thing, though. Watching Bec’s ass in her tight leggings throughout the entire hike this morninghad me ready to rip her clothes off the second we were alone, and she was just as eager.

Every time I get a taste of Bec, she leaves me starving for more. Even now, all I want is to abandon my hopelessly shitty attempt at a meal, take her into the bedroom, and stay there for the rest of the night, tasting her instead. But she traveled all night and morning to be here and hike with me. I need to make sure she eats something. I stare down at the smoking pan abandoned on the stove top, not sure if the thing is even edible at this point.

“This might be a little…well done. Give me five minutes and it’ll be ready.”Jesus, what the fuck am I saying?

Knowing there’s nothing I can do in five minutes to fix this, I coat the dish in more sauce, hoping that will cover the burned edges and dry meat, set the pan on the table, and grab the bottle of wine. Hopefully, more wine will distract her from how awful this dinner is about to be.

I take a desperate swig out of my glass. “All done here. Ready when you are,” I say, not making eye contact with Bec.

“Oookay…” she draws out and walks over to join me at the table.

“More wine?” I immediately offer. She nods, so I top off her glass as she sits down across from me.

“So, what’d you make?” she asks.

“It’s, uh, a chicken and pasta dish Eves sent me. She’s always sharing new recipes. Figured this was a good time to give it a go.”

I’m going to kill Evie when I see her. She said this was one of her “easy, go-to, twenty-minute meals.” It took me forty-five minutes to annihilate these ingredients.

“Hmm…” she hums while she pokes and prods the solid mass of slop on the plate in front of her. “Looks…interesting. I’ll have to ask her to send me the recipe too,” she says with a smile, still not taking a bite.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” I say.

God, I look so fucking dumb right now.

Bec lifts a forkful to her mouth, and I stop breathing, knowing this is going to be horrible. Should I let her try this? Not alone, I guess.Fuck it.I take my own massive bite, because if she likes me enough to try this mess of a meal, then I like her enough to go down with her.

And fuck, it’s worse than I thought.

Shutting my eyes and dropping my head down while I muscle through the chewy bite, I hear Bec put down her fork and look up to see her wiping her mouth, humming again softly to herself.

“Yum, wow. That’s…um…well, that’s great. Really, uh, really different,” she says while nodding profusely, before lifting her wine glass to her lips and taking three large gulps.

I narrow my eyes at her.

“Did you just spit that bite into your napkin?”

“Huh? What? Nope, not me.Noooo,sir, you are mistaken,” she sing-songs to me, avoiding eye contact.

Well, damn, she’s cute when she’s trying to protect my feelings.

---