And I was going to do it regardless of whether he tagged along or not, but he didn’t need to know that yet.
He simply looked back up at the non-existent Nevada stars and sighed. “Fine, but I need to get something to eat afterward.”
I might have bounced up to my toes. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Really-really?” I swear I might have been beaming.
Aiden gave me the most pained nod in the history of the world. “Yes. Sure. Let’s go buy the tickets.”
I’d never in my life wanted to pull a Dorothy and click my heels together, but the idea of not walking around Vegas by myself, and with this gigantaur who could have passed for a bodyguard, I found myself grinning at him and clapping. “Okay, let’s go.”
For the sake of his life, I decided to ignore the grimace on his face.
Off we went. The hotel was on the opposite side of the Strip, but we made it with time to spare, snagging the two best tickets possible, which I paid for since I felt guilty he’d been paying for everything, and they were third row seats, so I figured it would be worth every penny spent dipping into my savings.
As we got in line at the concession stand, I could feel myself shaking for the second time in the same day, but this time it was with excitement. Cirque du Lune had come to Dallas in the past, but I’d always talked myself out of shelling out the cash to go. Now that I wasn’t paying rent and business was steady, spending the money didn’t send me into heart palpitations, or falling over with guilt over the extravagance. Plus, I was so pumped, I even signed the receipt with a smile on my face.
“Do you want to share a popcorn?” I asked after we got into the super-long line at the concession stand, so overjoyed I didn’t care that the popcorn was going to cost an arm and a leg.
He started to dip his chin just as I spotted a finger reaching up to tap his arm from behind. Aiden hesitantly turned to come face-to-face with a woman in her forties and a man in the same age range. They were both smiling.
“Could we take a picture with you?” the woman blurted out, her cheeks coloring.
“We’re huge fans,” the man added, his face more red than pink.
“We’ve been following your career since Michigan,” the woman continued on in a rush.
Aiden did that tiny little half-assed smile he conjured up for fans as he nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” That big head turned to face me. “Take the picture?”
The woman smiled sheepishly at me before handing over her phone. I got the camera in focus as the older couple sandwiched Aiden between them—they looked so small in comparison!—and was taking a step back when I caught movement in the sliver of space between Aiden and the female fan. He never put his arm around people in pictures, I’d noticed from the beginning, but always kept his hands at his sides. It was because of that, that I almost missed the small hand motion, but I didn’t, and when Aiden scowled almost immediately, it took everything inside of me not to burst out laughing as I took the shot.
By the time I handed the phone over, we were next in line, and I left Aiden to finish listening to his handsy fans as I ordered popcorn with no butter, a medium soda, and a bottle of water.
“It was so nice meeting you!” the woman called out as Aiden headed toward me once I was out of line.
I barely managed to raise the bag of popcorn to face level when I lost it, peeking at him when I wasn’t blinking away tears.
The fact that Aiden’s ears turned red as he watched me crack up, said he knew what I was dying over. “Don’t say a word,” he gritted.
“Did she grab a handful?” I choked out.
The look he gave me was a mix of ‘you’re an idiot’ and ‘fuck off,’ which only made me laugh harder.
He’d gotten molested. By a fan. Right in front of me.
That split second look of surprise on his face when he got fondled would probably stay with me for the rest of my life.
“Shut up, Vanessa.”
I was dying. He usually just ignored me, but this was so much better. “I’m not saying anything!” I wheezed from behind the bag of popcorn.
Aiden narrowed his eyes, waiting patiently. “Are you done?” he asked after a few more seconds of me cracking up.
I had to wipe at the tears in my eyes with the back of my hand, shaking my head. “I—I—”
He gestured me toward the doors to the theater. “Get inside before they close the doors.” His tone was exasperated and maybe even a little embarrassed. Maybe. Why would getting his butt cheek squeezed rile him up?
I had to swallow raggedly as I wiped at my face one more time, picturing that epic look of shock once more. I lost it again. “Does that kind of thing happen often?”
“No. Would you stop laughing?”
It was almost two in the morning by the time we made it back to the hotel. I felt happier than I had in forever. The show had been amazing, and dinner at the restaurant in the same hotel as Cirque du Lune after the show had been great. The host had recognized Aiden and gave us the best and most secluded table so Aiden could be left in peace. It had seriously been nice, even if Aiden hadn’t talked much while we ate. I didn’t go out often, but deciding to explore instead of staying in to work that night seemed like one of the best ideas I’d had in forever.
So when we got inside the living area to the suite and started going in opposite directions toward our rooms, I stopped at the doorway to mine and turned to look at the man I’d signed papers with hours ago. He was visibly tired, after all, he usually went to bed by nine at the latest, and he looked beyond exhausted.
Why wouldn’t he though? He’d played a preseason game twelve hours ago and only managed to nap twice since then. Damn it. This sense of unwanted affection seeped its way into the place between my breasts.
“Thank you so much for staying up and coming with me,” I said, squeezing my hands at my sides as I smiled at him. “I had a really good time.”
Aiden nodded, one corner of his mouth moved a millimeter, but it was a millimeter that could have moved a mountain. “Me too.”
I was too soft to be excited by that sliver of a smile. “Good night.”
“Night.”
It wasn’t until after I showered and had snuggled under the covers that I finally let myself sink into reality. I was a married woman.
Chapter Eleven
“Where are you going?”
With one hand on the staircase handrail, I finished thrusting my heel into my tennis shoe and glanced up at the man standing in front of me with a wary look on his lightly bearded face. “I’m going for a run. Why?”
The big guy glanced down at the overpriced accessory on his wrist, an expensive workout watch I know he’d gotten for free because I’d been the one to open the box when he got it. “It’s five o’clock,” he said, as if I didn’t know how to read time.
I did, and I’d learned how to a long, long time ago.
He’d gotten home about an hour ago while I was upstairs going over the fifth draft of a paperback cover for an author I’d decided never to work with again. The guy was driving me nuts, changing his mind from one revision to the next, and if it wasn’t for my motto—never leave a client unhappy because they’ll tell everyone you suck—I would have told him to shove his money down his throat and find someone else.
Yeah, I was feeling on edge, and I knew I needed to get out of the house for a little while, even if it was already later than I normally would have liked to go for a run. So I’d been surprised when I first heard Aiden make his way from the kitchen into the foyer where I was trying to finish getting ready to leave.