Page 14 of Lust & Lies
“Right,” he replied.
“I promise,” I whispered.
“I promise, too, baby.”
Right there, in front of our wedding photo, Aiden and I vowed to get through this together. But the mood was ruined when my stomach growled. And not a little growl. It was a roar.
Aiden’s gaze dropped, landing squarely on my midsection. His eyebrows lifted just slightly, and for the first time all day, I felt truly embarrassed.
He looked back up at me. “Someone’s hungry.”
I pressed a hand to my stomach, cheeks heating. “I guess I am.”
The corner of his mouth tugged into a smile. “Come on. I’ll cook us something.”
I blinked. “You can cook?”
“If I didn’t, we’d starve to death,” he said with a smirk.
Then he reached for my hand. I didn’t even think twice before placing my palm against his. His fingers wrapped around mine, and as we walked, I realized he’d just revealed something else about our life together.
Apparently, I didn’t cook. He did. I looked over at him. This man was just too good to be true. That nagging feeling crept back in, the one that made me want to question everything. I tapped it down.
I couldn’t get suspicious of him for treating me right. I wasn’t going to pick apart the good just because I didn’t know how to accept it yet. One day at a time. One moment at a time.Eventually, I’d get used to being next to Aiden Park.
He led me to the kitchen, which was far larger than I’d expected. Cabinets lined the walls, every one of them a deep charcoal color with brass handles that caught the light. The backsplash was done in this clean herringbone tile, soft white and gray.
A long island sat in the middle of the room, topped with a pale stone counter. The brass faucet matched the drawer handles. Even the range hood was gold. The lighting overhead added a gold glow to the room, unlike the white bulbs that had been in the other rooms.
Though this was Aiden’s domain, I’m pretty sure I was the one who designed it. I couldn’t remember ever using the word herringbone tile, but I’d recognized it as soon as I saw it.
So, maybe I had decorated this entire place. Maybe I did like this type of décor. I mean, it was beautiful. I liked it. But it was a tad bit showy, just like the main room. Aiden pulled out a stool at the island.
“Sit. I’ll cook.”
I sat, resting my elbows on the counter, chin in my palm. He moved easily around the kitchen, pulling out vegetables, a cutting board, and a wok. The wok hit the stove with a soft clink.
“Want me to wash the vegetables?” I asked.
“No, Mrs. Park. I want you to sit there, rest, and look beautiful.”
I chuckled. “Yes, sir, Mr. Park.”
He looked up at me and winked, then started washing the vegetables. His flirty behavior had my heart doing a little jig in my chest. I swear my emotions were all over the place when it came to this man.
I didn’t say anything as he worked. I just watched. His sleeves were already pushed back, and I found myself staring at his arms as he chopped the veggies. The soft thud of blade on board filled the room.
He was talking to me, saying something about how stir fry was a quick and easy meal and how I used to request it once a week. I should’ve been listening. But I was too focused on the way his muscles flexed as he chopped.
Aiden smiled while he worked. I hadn’t seen him this relaxed before. There was something about it that pulled me in. Something that made me feel like I’d sat here before, watching him do this exact same thing.
Something flickered in the back of my mind. Not a full memory. Just a moment. Quick. Blurry. But definitely there. I could almost feel the emotions I’d felt that day. I could hear my laughter.
I could smell the food being cooked. I could hear the chopping as he cut up vegetables. See his lips as he smiled at me while he cooked. I closed my eyes, trying to hold on to the memory, trying to focus harder on it.
The image clung to the edges of my mind. We were in a different kitchen. A smaller one. In my memory, Aiden turned to me and handed me a glass of wine. I stared up into his face.Wait. My breath caught in my throat as my eyes popped open. The man in that memory, the man smiling at me, cooking for me...
He wasn’t Aiden.
