Hot Texas Nights. Janice Maynard
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said firmly. “My life is great.”
“Good. Good...” Holy hell. He sounded like a geriatric uncle.
Amanda arrived with Aria’s food. “Enjoy,” she said, giving Ethan an odd look before she walked away.
Aria fell on the sandwich and soup as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Her enthusiasm and the way she enjoyed the simple meal gave Ethan some seriously weird feelings. Was she that passionate in bed when a man was pleasuring her? His throat dried, and the front of his pants tightened.
Surely it was bizarre to be turned on by a woman eating soup.
His companion seemed oblivious to his consternation. She licked a smidge of cheese from the edge of her mouth and eyed him over the rim of her coffee cup. “What about you, Ethan? I hear great things about your job in Houston. Though I’m positive that working for Sterling Perry is no picnic.”
He laughed roughly, feeling the stress of the last ten weeks begin to lift. Steering the behemoth of a ship that was Perry Holdings consumed his life. “You could say that. But he and I get along reasonably well.”
“Probably because you aren’t related to him,” Aria said wryly.
“True.” Sterling’s four adult children had complicated relationships with their father.
“I heard some exciting news floating around the club today,” Aria said.
“It’s true. I found out just this afternoon that our construction division has been awarded the contract to renovate the new Texas Cattleman’s Club site in Houston. I’m pretty pumped.” An understatement, for sure.
For the first time, Aria gave him an open, uncomplicated smile. “That’s fabulous,” she said, beaming at him. “I’m so happy for you.”
Her genuine response and the wattage of her smile warmed him despite the lousy weather. “I wasn’t sure it was going to happen,” he admitted.
“So why are you here in Royal?”
“Well, I’ve had a few meetings with the TCC board members, making sure we have a vision for what they want. Going forward now, I’ll be in Houston mostly, but bouncing back and forth.”
“I was surprised to hear it’s a renovation. I’ve been out of town off and on and missed part of the debate. Why not build from scratch?”
“Ryder Currin found a stellar building on a prime downtown corner in Houston. It was a luxury boutique hotel that went under during the recession. The place fell into disrepair.”
“And now you’re going to give it a makeover.”
“From the ground up.”
Aria’s enthusiasm washed over him like a benediction. He’d be lying if he said the project was going to be smooth sailing. Though Sterling Perry had won the bid to do the reconstruction, his archrival, the much younger Ryder Currin, had actually been the driving force behind setting up a branch of Royal’s famous club in Houston.
Now both men wanted control. There was bad blood between them, and there would likely be plenty of collateral damage.
Ethan tapped his fingers on the table, still itchy from that pesky adrenaline...and something more elemental—an intense physical awareness that he had always experienced around Aria. “You should come,” he said suddenly. “When we begin to make progress, I’ll show you around.”
She blinked at him. “Come to Houston?”
He cocked his head. “It’s not all that far,” he drawled. “We have these newfangled things called jets.”
“Very funny.” Her cheeks turned pink again. “I’d enjoy that.”
Something in her gaze increased his discomfort. He liked to think of Aria as a childhood friend. Yet nothing about this woman was childlike. She was sexy and adorable in her complete femininity. He could think of at least a dozen ways he wanted to strip her naked and see what happened next.
She reached across the table and took his hand, surprising the hell out of him. “I’m so proud of you, Ethan. This is huge.”
The touch of her slender fingers on his larger, rougher hand sent a lightning bolt of lust to his sex. “I wanted to celebrate,” he admitted huskily. “But I’ve cut myself off from my friends for a long time.”
“Because you’re a workaholic.”
It wasn’t a question. He curled his hand around hers. “It’s all I have,” he said. “I’m ambitious. Nobody gets ahead in this world if they don’t give a hundred and ten percent.”
“And you don’t want anything else?”
Her quiet question stole his breath. Hell, yes. He wanted plenty. But Aria was off-limits. She was sweet and wholesome, and she wanted babies and a ring on her finger.
“Life is all about choices,” he said, stroking her palm. He couldn’t quite meet her gaze. He was concerned she would see his physical hunger and be put off by his response to her...and to their physical connection.
“Or maybe you’re just afraid.” She pulled her hand away, leaving him bereft. The tart, pointed attack startled him.
“I’m not afraid of anything,” he protested.
Aria crossed her arms, drawing attention to her softly rounded breasts. She was wearing a pale pink cashmere turtleneck. The color should have washed her out, but instead, she glowed like a winter rose.
Their hushed standoff lasted mere seconds, though it felt like forever. Amanda came to clear the table, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents that swirled about them.
When they were alone again, Aria gave him a wicked, mocking smile. “Prove it,” she said.
He felt befuddled, perhaps by the fact that all the blood in his body had rushed south. “Prove what?”
“That you’re not afraid.”
There was no avoiding her challenge. Had he ever known her at all, or had she changed? This was a sexual gauntlet, thrown down by the woman he had thought was passive...perhaps even repressed.
Her sharp-eyed gaze said otherwise. Beneath the fuzzy fabric of her sweater, her nipples budded tightly, signaling her response to their verbal foreplay. His forehead beaded with sweat. “Well, I—”
“I have champagne at my house,” she said quietly. “It was supposed to be for my parents’ anniversary, but they took off on a cruise, and we never had a party for them. The bottle has been collecting dust. I’d like to pop the cork in your honor tonight. What do you say?”
What he was supposed to say was no. Nothing had changed. He and Aria were longtime friends. Sex was not on the table.
Could he go to her house, drink a single glass of champagne to celebrate his big day and then go home?
Doubtful. But he was going to do it, anyway. Because he couldn’t resist her smile. Or the naughty twinkle in her eyes. Or the way she smelled—like vanilla and something darker, more sensual.
“Sure,” he croaked. “I guess I’ve got time for one glass. Are you still at the same address?”
“Still there,” she said. She slipped her arms into her coat and signed the credit-card slip Amanda had unobtrusively placed on the table.
Ethan frowned. “I should have bought your dinner,” he said. “I wasn’t paying attention.” The truth was, he’d been so focused on Aria that he never even noticed her taking her credit card out of her purse.
“Don’t be silly. This isn’t a date.” She slid out of the booth and stood, fluffing her hair out over the collar of her winter jacket. In addition to the sweater, she was wearing jeans and black leather, knee-high boots with three-inch heels that boosted her modest height. “I’ll meet you at my place.” And