Page 28 of Falling for You Again

My heart pounds in my ears. “Were you serious about getting married?”

Aaron gestures for me to keep my voice down and joins me on the porch, closing the door behind him. I catch the warm notes of his Bottega Veneta cologne, the scent that has lingered in my memories. I saw the bottle on his bathroom counter this morning, the same brand he had with him in Maui.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” His gaze darts over my face anxiously. Concern darkens his expression.

I wipe my damp forehead. I feel flushed and my neck is sweaty, my hair tangled and windblown. I’m sure I look half wild. “Were you serious this morning? Because Bear won’t budge. I can’t change his mind. He won’t even consider an offer from me as long as your company is in the picture.”

Aaron stares at me, then opens the door. “Come inside.”

I follow him into the living room. His guests watch me curiously, nursing beers.

“She your date, Aaron?” the woman boldly asks, assessing my frazzled state. I can tell the woman is tall. She has the same dark hair as Aaron’s, trimmed in a blunt, chic cut that skims her shoulders. Her designer jeans and shirt are iron-crisp, her sneakers a pristine white.

“She’s a friend,” Aaron corrects her, and to me, says, “The rude one is my sister, Charlie.”

I look at him.That’s riiiiight.He has a sister. He adores her. I’ve wanted to meet her ever since he told me about all the fun scrapes he used to get into with her when they were kids. I wish I was here under different circumstances and had time to get to know her.

Aaron offers me a small smile. I’m sure he’s remembering our conversations about her five years ago in Maui. “That’s her husband, Murphy.” He points at the guy unfolding from the couch.

“Hi. I’m Meli.” I introduce myself to Charlie and shake Murphy’s hand.

“You should come with us,” Murphy says brightly. Red tinges his cheeks and I wonder how many beers he’s already had. “We have an extra ticket sincesomeoneisn’t joining us.”

Charlie makes a shushing noise at her husband. Aaron clears his throat. He faces me fully with a lifted brow. Is that a question? Does he want me to go with them?

“Thanks, but I have to get back to work. And we ...” I gesture at Aaron with a look. Does he have time to talk? “Maybe I should come back later.” I don’t know when the game starts. He said they were on their way out the door.

“Now’s good. You guys go ahead,” Aaron says to his sister and brother-in-law. “Meli and I have a ...” He looks wide-eyed at me.

“A pressing business matter to deal with,” I fill in for him. I crack my knuckle with a loud pop.

Charlie and Murphy exchange a look. “That’s okay, we’ll wait.” Murphy settles back on the couch with a smug grin. Charlie smacks his chest with the back of her hand, but she’s grinning too. I glance between them, wondering what I’m missing.

Aaron rolls his eyes. “Ignore them,” he says and leads me into his den.

“And here I was going to thank Charlie for the clothes,” I say, turning to him.

His ears redden and with a sharp laugh he shuts the door on his nosy family. Both Charlie and Murphy are leaning out of their seats to get a better look at us.

“Did you tell them about Fallon?” I wonder if the extra ticket belonged to her.

“Right before you arrived. They weren’t surprised.”

“Do your parents know?”

“Ah ... No, not yet.” He rubs his palms together, his expression clearly showing he isn’t eager for that conversation.

I continue to pull at my fingers, taking in the room. Smooth leathers and earthy colors juxtaposed with polished woods and natural textures tie his home office together. There’s a framed jersey on one wall and an electric guitar in the corner. A large oak desk squats in front of the window. Books fill the shelves on the opposite wall, and a sleek bar cart stocked with top-shelf liquors and vintage decanters occupies another corner. The room is warm, inviting, and full of personality, a space where I easily picture him relaxing and recharging. It’s casual, breezy, and unflappable, just like the man I met on the way to Vegas.

Aaron leans back against the desk, his hands curled around the edge, facing the room. Facing me as I pace, really. Twitchy apprehension and all that.

“Tell me what’s up,” he says.

I take a breath and recap my morning, running through the conversations I had with Mom in the elevator and with Uncle Bear and Dad at the shop. I stop in front of him when I finish. “Do you really think Savant will retract the offer if we marry?”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to try to talk to my people first?”

“Are you changing your mind?”

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