Chasing Paris by Stephanie Street

Author:Stephanie Street [Street, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-19T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Paris

As much as I hated my mother’s little gatherings, I had to admit to having an enjoyable time at this one. Mostly because of Aaron. Alright, all because of Aaron. I’d about swallowed my tongue when I opened my door this evening to Aaron dressed to the nines in Armani. Who even knew ex-military firefighters wore Armani?

Between the suit and his model-like features and body- he’s lucky I didn’t swoon at his feet or drag him to my bedroom. He’d been enough of a distraction that I didn’t even get worked up into a ball of nerves on the drive over. There was something so calm and steadying about his presence. Even walking into the snake pit hadn’t been as terrifying as usual.

I’ve begun to realize Aaron is pretty much the perfect man. Not only was he mouth-wateringly handsome, he knew how to work. I’ve seen it firsthand after his seventy-two-hour shift, the sweat and dirt from hours of exertion. Not to mention the weary expression in his blue eyes after witnessing the destruction and devastation from a fire. No, Aaron isn’t just a pretty face, he is as beautiful on the inside as he is on the outside. Even now, sitting across the patio, his whole attention is focused on the elderly woman in front of him. Mrs. Chambers is a pistol. I didn’t miss the way she patted his rear end as she led him to a table along the edge of the patio. His shocked gaze flew to the little woman beside him before flickering to mine. I shrugged and winked and then laughed when his eyes narrowed threateningly. I had a feeling I’d pay for allowing Sylvia to get her claws into him.

“What do we have here?” an achingly familiar voice sang in my ear.

Gasping, I turned, joy filling my chest as my gaze clashed with that of none other than Nicholas Trevisan.

“Nicky?” I held out my arms to accept his hug, overwhelmed by the familiarity of his arms and scent. Where I was likely to smell of vanilla and cinnamon, Nick was a walking Italian blend. Basil. Oregano. Parmesan.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, pulling away just enough to get a look at his face. His very handsome, very smug face.

“You mean since you didn’t send me an invitation?” His tone was dry, one brow quirked.

“I- I,” I stuttered. He was right, I hadn’t send him an invitation. Hence, my surprise at seeing him here. And then, I saw it, the twinkle in his caramel brown eyes. I dropped my arms and stomped my foot. “You are the busiest man on the planet! Of course, I didn’t bother you with my mother’s silly party.”

Nick just laughed at my display of temper and pulled me back into his arms for an affectionate hug. “Oh, I’ve missed you, cara.”

I returned his friendly squeeze and kissed his cheek, welcoming the presence of another friendly face. “So, really, how did you get here?”

“By plane.”

“Nick!” I giggled and slapped his arm.

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