glanced at her watch, though she knew it was just after seven o’clock. “Ah…hey, Pete,” she said, looking over his shoulder and hoping to see Aidan.
But she didn’t.
Pete stepped back, inviting her inside. “Hey, Miss Caldwell. I was closer to the door, so Mr. Kendrick asked me to answer it.”
She adjusted the grocery bag on her hip. “Oh.”
She was so insignificant as a date that not only was he not ready for her arrival, he also had his handyman playing butler? Why did she always manage to find the insensitive—
“Sorry, I’m not ready,” Aidan said, walking quickly toward her from the other end of the hall and wiping his hands on a cloth. “Pete and I were finishing up and lost track of time.” He took the bag from her hands.
His face glistened with sweat; his dark hair curled across his forehead. Stubble shadowed his jaw. He looked, as always, alluring, strong and delicious.
Her annoyance vanished.
Was that weak? Probably.
“I’m going,” Pete said. “I’ll get my stuff.” He grinned. “I have a hot date myself.”
When he wandered into the parlor, Sloan asked Aidan, “Between us, am I the hot date, or are you?”
“Definitely you. I’m sweaty.”
“I could start making the salad while you shower.”
Leaning toward her, he smiled that amazing smile, his eyes lighting with sensual sparks. “Or you could join me.”
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