Holy shit, it’s a long way down from this thing.

Aidan rolls his eyes and steps forward, wrapping his arm around my waist. I squeak and grab his neck, holding him tightly as he lifts me smoothly from the truck. He sets me down on the ground, and with his right arm still firmly around me, he swings the door shut and presses the button on his key to lock it.

The lights flash, illuminating a sleek black car in orange as it pulls into the lot. Aidan ushers me toward the door of the restaurant a little faster than I can manage in these shoes. Maybe he didn’t understand my sarcasm about the marathon.

“What are you doing?”

“Trust me,” he repeats, looking at me with a smile that might just make my stomach flip. I purse my lips as the door is opened and he ushers me inside. “Wait here.”

My lips part as he leaves me standing by the host and disappears toward the bar in the back corner. The dimly lit restaurant obscures my view of him, meaning I definitely can’t try and lip-read the conversation he’s having with a suited man I assume is the manager. They nod their heads and shake hands, and I glare as Aidan comes back to me.

That smile is back on his face—the stomach-flipping one. The little spine-shivery one. The one I’m hating that I like. “Come on.”

“To where?”

He shrugs. “Somewhere you can wear your Spanx and no shoes.”

I frown, and he takes my hand when I don’t move. “Are we supposed to be here?” I ask when he pulls me through the door marked STAFF.

“I told you to trust me. I promise I ain’t gonna kill you and bury you in the woods.”

“Oh, now I’m convinced to trust you.” I roll my eyes. “Just so you know, the heels on my shoes are real sharp, and I’m not afraid to use them as a weapon.”

His eyes glimmer with laughter. “Noted, sunshine.”

“That nickname really pisses me off.”

“I know,” Aidan whispers, leaning in so his breath flutters across my cheek. “But I have to admit, I love the irony of it.”

“Because I’m such a ragey bitch?”

He pushes open the back door of the restaurant, where a car is waiting. A tall, built guy is holding the door for us, his hair trimmed short and the sharp planes of his face illuminated by the restaurant’s security light.

Aidan grins, walking backward toward the car. “You call it ragey, I call it sexy. It’s all in the eye of the beholder, baby.”

“You’re crazy.” I shake my head, fighting my smile, because his is just so damn infectious.

“Ajax,” Aidan greets the man. “That was quick.”

“It’s why you pay me,” he replies with a quirk of his lips.

“Jessie, this is Ajax, the head of our security. And the guy inside the car is Carlos,” Aidan says, handing Ajax his truck keys.

“Miss Jessie,” Ajax takes my hand and kisses it softly.

“Hey,” Aidan says. “You’re gonna show me up in the gentleman department.”

“Yeah?” Ajax drawls. “How’s that workin’ out for him?” he asks, looking at me.

“Kind of rough. He might need some etiquette lessons,” I reply, cutting my eyes to Aidan. “On second thought, he definitely needs some. A real gentleman would never look at a lady like he wants to haul her off over his shoulder caveman-style.”

Ajax laughs as I get into the car. Aidan follows, sliding across the seat until his side is pressed against mine, and he slips his hand between my thighs. “On the contrary,” he murmurs into my ear, the low husky tone of his voice making my heart thump loudly. “A real gentleman absolutely would haul his lady off over his shoulder—and he’d smack her ass for good measure, too.”

“Are you threatening me?” I turn my face to his and inhale when his breath ghosts over my lips.

“Promising.”

“There’s a difference?”

“A real big difference.” He creeps his fingers up the inside of my thigh.

I shiver at his touch. The tremors that creep across my skin slowly are white hot, and I can almost feel my body being smothered at his insinuation—and damn it all, my body wants to know exactly what the difference between a threat and a promise is. What his difference is.

“Did you just call me your lady?” I raise an eyebrow, removing his hand from its all-too-warm-and-comfortable resting place.

“Fuck no. I don’t have to be in Mensa to know you belong to no one but yourself, sunshine.” He brushes his fingertips across my jaw and turns me to face him. My eyes flutter shut, but I force them open and make myself meet his unwavering gaze. “But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a part of me that kind of wants to make you mine. Just to see if you’ll break.”

“Theoretically, of course.” My words are whispers, so I clear my throat. “Right?”

“Absolutely,” he agrees. “Theoretically. If there were a single part of me that wanted this relationship to be real.”

“It’s always a pleasure to know we’re on the same wavelength.”

“So we’re agreed that sex is on the table tonight?”

“Wait, what? I don’t remember agreeing to sex. Ever.”

“Ever, huh?” His eyebrow curves slowly. Sexily.

“Except that one time. One time, Aidan.” I hold my finger up between us as his lips move to the side in a knowing smirk. “I agreed to be your girlfriend in public, and that didn’t include your fuck buddy in private.”

“Can we put sex on the table?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because in case it escaped your notice, I was drunk when I had sex with you. More drunk than I should have been.” I sniff and fold my arms. “So the only way you’re getting me to have sex with you is by getting me drunker than I was then.”

The car comes to a stop and Aidan leans over me, pushing my door open. He unbuckles the seat belt from my hip and I take it from him before he can remove it from across my body, because, you know, I can do that. And maybe because I feel bad for telling him I’d never sleep with him unless I’m drunk.

Who the hell am I kidding? I’m female. All he’s gotta do is slip his hand between my legs again and tickle my thigh like he just was and there’s a 90 percent chance I’m going to mount him.

Apparently hormones are stronger than common sense.

He gets out of the car, cutting a dull figure as he does. Guilt slithers through me, so I swing my legs out after him, tug my dress down, and hesitate.

“Wait,” I say as he walks in front of me, illuminating the bitty ground of the woods with his phone screen. The harshness of my words really do hit me, and I bend down to pull off my heels so they don’t sink, like the simple act of covering my stomach will absorb the impact of my own bitchiness.

He turns, flashing his light at my feet. “You want my shoes?”

“What for?”

“To get to my truck.”

I’m not even going to ask how that got here. “I’m a country girl, Ads. I’d rather have mud between my toes than a stiletto blister on my heel any day of the week.”

I can’t see his grin in the dark as he walks to the truck cab and turns his key so the light comes on, but I can feel it. Hear it. I don’t know how it’s possible, but it’s almost as if the upturn of his lips is a jingle—like the ones in Christmas commercials. The cheesy, dumb ones that you always want to turn off but find yourself humming when you’re in the shower.

That’s it.

His smile is a Christmas jingle. No matter how hard you try to ignore it, you just can’t get it out of your head.

“Here.” Aidan pulls the tailgate down and pats it.

I set my heels down on the truck bed and narrow my eyes. Pillows, blankets, all thrown in haphazardly, like Sof’s daughter Mila tried to make a blanket fort but gave up after hauling everything up here. “What is this?”

He sighs. “This is our first ‘date.’ ” He grasps my waist, his fingers stroking my sides as he gets his grip right and lifts me until I’m sitting on the tailgate, my legs swinging beneath me.

“I don’t understand,” I say softly, pushing my bangs from my eyes and looking at him.