“Thanks,” she murmured, looking at him a little differently now. “Taste yours.”
Aaron swirled the cream with his cinnamon stick, watching it melt into the chocolate.
“Cheater,” she teased.
He laughed and took a sip. Chocolate decadence swirled over his tongue. Not too rich, but perfection, and a hint of cinnamon that gave it an air of comfort. “Wow,” he mused. “That has to be the best hot cocoa I’ve ever had.”
She raised her brows.
“So hands down the best across two nations?”
“The best.”
“Welcome to New York.” She grinned triumphantly.
“Couldn’t have asked for a better introduction to the city.
Lady Liberty has nothing on hot cocoa,” he teased.
“Oh, come on, you’ve already done all that sight-seeing
, haven’t you?” Darla picked up one of the scones and took a bite, her eyes rolling with pleasure again.
Aaron was pretty damn sure he’d never look at chocolate the same way again. “Some,
” he murmured.
“Name the ones you haven’t seen.”
“Well, all the cliché movie stuff my father passed up for more cultural adventures. I’ve been to Broadway, The Met, museums, other galleries, the Empire State building.”
“So, no ice-skating
at Rockefeller Center or horse drawn carriage rides in the snow at Central Park?”
“Exactly, I missed out on all the fun stuff.”
He smiled and took her offer of a bite of the scone. “Damn, that’s good!”
She laughed.
“Yay! Winner. Well, maybe I can lead you on a cliché movie stuff tour.”
“I’d like that.” And scary thing was
, he would.
After finishing their sweet treats, they walked back out onto
Broome Street.
“Can I walk you home?”
She gave him a skeptical look, then nodded. “Yes. I like your company.” She squeezed her arm around his elbow. “And it’s cold out here after that warm cocoa.”
“I’ll gladly provide you a shield against the wind. Lead the way.”
“Okay, but let’s play a game.” She looked up at him, a devilish curl to her lips.
“What?”
“It’s a fun people-watching game, I promise.”
“Rules?”
“You find a person, couple or group of people across the street and predict either what they just did, or what they’re about to do.”
Aaron laughed. “I can see this game being very interesting.”
Darla nodded. “I’ll start. See that guy in the yellow down jacket with his dog, right by that group of Santas? Look at his expression. Angry! I’m guessing his dog got loose and he’s finally caught her.”
“Weak,” Aaron said, with a little nudge with his elbow. “I say, it’s not his dog. He found it tied up near a sto
refront and has always wanted a yippee dog, so he’s making his getaway. He’s nervous because the Santas have all witnessed his bad behavior and he’s definitely going to be on the naughty list.”
“Oh! That is better!”
They played the game until they arrived at a building a few blocks down—and across the street from his own place. His belly ached from laughing so hard.
“Here we are,” she said.
“Funny. I live right there,” he said, pointing.
“That is funny.”
She gazed up at his building for a moment, a small smile on her lips.
They turned to face one another, and he couldn’t help staring at her rosy cheeks, lit up by the street light. Darla was a classic beauty.
Chocolate-colored brown hair, blue-eyes, creamy skin. Sweet, sassy and sexy. The last thing he’d wanted when moving to the city was a relationship. But hot cocoa and a deep attraction didn’t mean marriage.
“I’d invite you up, but…
” She chewed her lower lip. “I don’t want to ruin what seems like a good thing.”
He couldn’t help but smile.
She’d taken the words right out of his mind. “Very good.” Aaron lifted her gloved hand, running a thumb over her knuckles. Then he brought her hand to his lips, smelling the soft floral scent of her perfume, and kissed it. “Sweet dreams.”
Chapter Three
T
he walk up three flights of stairs to her apartment was nothing tonight. Despite working on her feet all day, Darla fairly floated.
She changed into her pajamas, brushed her teeth and washed her face, all the while
humming,
All I Want for Christmas is You,
pretending Aaron stood in front of her as she pointed.
Silly for certain, but she
begrudgingly admitted to herself that she had a major crush on the Scottish hottie.
Tingles still permeated up her arm from when he’d kissed her hand.
So chivalrous.
Almost unreal.
Like the little Santa in her deli had gifted her with a kilted Christmas wish. Too good to be true.
Darla flopped
on her bed all aglow. Who cared about too good to be true? If she never saw him again, she’d still measure all first dates up to this one. She couldn’t believe the awesome evening spent with hunky Aaron of all people…
Nothing really that remarkable
even happened. But his charisma, the way it was so easy to talk to him, his sense of humor, the way he’d touched her sending her body into overdrive… All of it added up to something wonderful.
S
he pulled her covers up over her shoulders and stared at the big moon out her window and snowflakes falling tranquilly. “Thanks, Santa.”
The next morning
, Darla was still floating high. She practically skipped her way to the café.
Being Saturday, they were sure to have
a flurry of morning activity. They always served up a nice selection of breakfast paninis and coffee. She pushed through the door, hung her things on the hook and slipped on another holiday themed apron.
“Wow, boss, you’re flitting ar
ound like a woman who just got laid,” teased Amanda, who’d finally showed up to work, as they put together breakfast orders.
“Classy, very classy,” Darla said with a roll of her eyes.
“So, who’s the guy?”
“I did not have…sex,” she whispered.
“Well, you did something. Spill!”
“I had some hot cocoa.
And played a game.” She smiled. “With a pretty amazing guy.”
“Wow, amazing enough to change your no dating ever again rule?”
Amanda wiggled her brows.
“I think so.”
Darla closed the bag she was putting together and took the orders of several people in line.
“When are you guys going out again?”
Darla’s smile fell, her stomach did a little twist. “I don’t know. I just realized I never got his number.”
Amanda bit her lip and looked away. “Oh.”
Darla rolled her eyes and gave Jorge several sandwich orders. “Don’t give me a pity,
oh
. I’m sure he’ll call.”
“Well at least you gave him your number.
Right?”
“Yeah…”
Darla bit her lip and stacked a pile of to-go boxes.
“What does that mean?” Amanda asked
, packing a half dozen paninis into a bag.
“I didn’t give him my number either. He has the café card though.”
She glanced at her friend, ready for the onslaught of mockery about how she’d sabotaged herself from ever breaking free of her chastity belt.
Amanda’s eyes
widened, her mouth opening.
“Don’t say it,” Darla stopped her.
Amanda held up her hands in surrender. “Not saying a word.”
“Seriously, let’s stop talking about him altogether.”
Darla greeted the next customer.
A sinking feeling in her stomach had her questioning the entire night. He’d never said he would call her.
Didn’t even suggest that they go out again. He’d randomly run into her the night before and she’d invited him out. She’d even said she thought they had a start to something good. Oh, God. Had she jumped the gun again?
Darla felt like pounding her head into the counter. Every time the door dinged open, she expected to see Aaron walking
through. But the reality was, he didn’t. He didn’t come into the café, and he didn’t call the café. Two days passed with Darla wound up tighter than a jack-in-a-box and feeling pretty damn dumb for having assumed that there could be anything between them.
She needed to forget about him. Thank goodness, Amanda hadn’t brought him up again. It was time Darla forgot about him, too. Move on.
Back to her never-dating-again existence. Obviously, she did not read men very well.
Oh, how mortified she was to have imagined them riding in a carriage through the park.
Even though she lived in the city, she’d never done that either. It would have been a first for them both.
The door dinged, and she didn’t even bother to glance up.
“Hello.”
Her head
lifted in a torturously slow pace toward the sound of Aaron’s voice. He stood before her in all his Highland glory. Tall, broad, muscular. Even in his dark dress pants, maroon dress shirt and dark wool coat, he was built like a god. The way the top button of his dress shirt was undone made it seem like he’d tugged off his tie and yanked it open. So damn sexy.
“Hi,” she said, her voice coming out just above a whisper. No. No. No. She needed to act casual. Normal.
Thank God she’d been praying for days that he’d show up, and she’d worn her good jeans, a sexy, black, low-cut sweater that hugged her breasts and her knee-length fuck-me boots.
“How have you been?” His eyes implored her, toying with her emotions.
“Great. Can I get you a sandwich?” It was after three o’clock, but maybe he was hungry.
He shook his head. Glanced around,
then met her gaze again. “See, the thing is, I had a really good time with you the other night. And…” He cleared his throat, stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I wanted to know if you were free later today?”
Darla chewed her lip, her brain shouting to say she was busy, but her heart leaping out and yanking him in for a hug.
She tapped her pencil against her order pad. “Well, we’re kind of—”
“She’s free now,” Amanda interjected, coming out of nowhere and bumping against Darla’s side. “Aren’t ya, boss?”
Darla’s eyes widened, and if Aaron weren’t staring right at her, she would have glared daggers at her friend.
“What do you say, Darla?”
he asked.
She wanted to tell him to say her name
again. To hear the way it rolled off his tongue with that sexy brogue. Instead, she said, “Sure. What did you have in mind?”
“Something cliché,” he said with a wink.
Dammit, but she wanted to strip her clothes off and ask him if making love on the counter of her café was cliché enough.
“Ice skating?” she asked, her heart skipping a beat.
“Perfect.”
“Have fun! Jorge and I have everything under control
.” Amanda grabbed Darla’s jacket and purse from the hook behind the door and tossed it to her. “See you tomorrow.”
Darla felt rushed as Amanda practically pushed them both out the door.
Once on the street, Aaron hailed them a cab. He may have only just returned to the city, but already he was a natural. Whistle, waving arm and all. Darla found herself smiling at him, giddy anticipation for an afternoon of fun with the exceedingly charming Scotsman making her blood fire erratically.
“Thanks for agreeing to go out
with me today.” He flashed a grin that made her legs go all wobbly.
T
he sun made his dark hair shine, like he really was some sort of hunky god. “Thanks for asking. It’s fun to play hooky every once in a while.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
He pressed a hand to the small of her back and led her toward the waiting yellow cab.
The
y jumped into the backseat, and Aaron told the driver to take them to Rockefeller Center. Aaron’s head nearly touched the ceiling of the cab, and his muscular thigh pressed hotly to hers. Darla found herself sinking closer to the middle of the seat rather than the window, wanting to be closer to him. He smelled so delicious. No Old Spice or Polo, something more exotic like Armani. God, it was delicious. She wanted to lean against him, peel open his gray wool jacket, unbutton his maroon dress shirt and press her face to his wide chest and breathe him in.
“Why are
you
playing hooky?” she asked, realizing she didn’t even know what he did for a living. The man could be unemployed for all she knew—though the building where he lived was not cheap, but rather high-end. Like the ones with views of the city lights at night and an entire wall of windows.
“Technically,
I’m not.” He smiled down at her, his gray eyes twinkling. “I’ve been working since five this morning.”
Her eyes widened a little
, imagining what time he’d had to wake up to get to work at five. “Wow, that early?”
He nodded
and stretched his arm around the back of her head rest, making it extremely hard for her not to lean her head back, though she managed to control herself.
“We work early at my company.”
“And what company is that?”
Sexy Scots for any girl?
She smiled to herself, imagining how a company like that would work a whole lot of women up into a lather.
“Sutherland Productions.”
Darla reached into her hand bag for some lip gloss. “What do you do there?”
“Run a lot of boring meetings,” he said with a laugh.
“Corporate life?” she teased, opening the tube and dabbing it on her lips.
His eyes were
riveted to her lips. Not her angle with putting on the lip gloss…or was it? Blatant attention seeking wasn’t her thing.
“You have no idea
,” he said, a notable lowering in his tone.
God, his voice was hotter than hot.
She pressed her lips together, smoothing the lip gloss. Her breath hitched at how intently he watched her. “That’s why I chose food. Everyone has to eat, and I love to come up with tasty recipes.”
Aaron nodded, flicking h
is tongue over his lower lip. A move not designed to catch her attention, she was sure, but damn it
did
. Seems they were both subconsciously drawing each other’s attention to their lips.
“And that they are.
I’ve enjoyed every bite,” he said.
“Thank you.”
She felt heat rushing to her face.
“Here we are.” Aaron paid the driver and climbed out, reaching out his hand to help her.
Darla slipped her hand in his, shocked at the spark that tingled up her arm. If just touching his hand was this electrifying what would kissing him, or…
Stop!
This is just a date. Nothing more, nothing less. If she kept it up at this rate she’d be climbing into his bed tonight and planning their wedding tomorrow. And then he’d leave her with a broken heart by the weekend.
Fifth Avenue
was a jostle of activity. A myriad of New Yorkers from all walks of life rushing to and fro. The skating rink was filled with people, laughing and calling out with glee.
Holly Jolly Christmas
played over the speaker system. The Center had a huge two-story high Christmas tree, decked out with giant gold and red globe ornaments and colored lights. It was mesmerizing.
Aaron pulled
a pair of red woven gloves from his pocket. “Might seem presumptuous of me, but…”
“You brought me gloves?”
He nodded, looking a little sheepish.
“Pretty confident aren’t you?”
She winked.
He gave her a boyish grin that had her melting.
“Pretty hopeful.”
Darla held out her hands and wiggled her fingers. “Well, I accept your gloves with much appreciation.”
Aaron grinned and slipped the soft cotton onto her fingers and then over her palms. “A perfect fit.”
“I’d hoped.”
He pulled on his own pair of black gloves and then offered his hand. She slipped hers into his grip, feeling the strength in his larger hand. A strength that both comforted her and sent ripples of need through her.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“To be embarrassed?” she joked.
“I was going to say
to have fun, but if we’re going there, I’m slightly prepared for the embarrassment factor.”
Darla’s head fell back as she laughed. Was it completely unfair that the man seemed to be cut from her dreams?
Aaron led them through the Channel Gardens and then down the stairs toward the rink.
“Mr. Sutherland,” an attendant called, waving them over toward the VIP Access entrance.
“I thought you’d never been here before?” Darla said.
“Not until this morning.” He winked.
She tried not to be too impressed with how much trouble he’d gone to, how awesome it felt to be swept off her feet. But how could she not be? Aaron had pulled all the stops to show her a good time on the ice. They picked out and changed into skates, teasing each other as they both stood, wobbling, for a good thirty seconds or more before falling wasn’t an imminent issue.