AARON WALLACE POV

She was hesitant to move, her ethereal eyes scanning the place like it intimidated her.

"Make yourself at home,"

She smiled politely, but her fingers kept twisting the ring around her finger. She was right next to me, within reach. I stepped behind her to help with her sweater.

Her slender fingers quickly closed over mine on her shoulders, out of reflex. I took in the scent of her hair. It was as seductive as she was. My eyes partly closed at the weird comfort she provides.

"You don't need it. We're alone now," I reminded her.

Her hands dropped to her sides, letting me take off the sweater, revealing the hickey I left on her neck.

She shivered, subtle enough to catch my attention.

"The thermostat's set to my preference. You can adjust it to your liking. The remote's on the coffee table," I told her, stepping away with her sweater folded in my hands.

I shut out the voice, urging me to take her to bed. I wasn't making that mistake again. God, I wanted her, but respecting her was above everything.

"I think it's fine," she said, with her eyes tracking me as I walked to the first set of seats and dropped her sweater.

"You didn't eat breakfast. What do you want now?" I asked. It had to be around 3 p.m. already. I rolled up my sleeves and headed for the kitchen.

"Umm," she sounded indecisive while she followed me.

Watching her only made the ache worse, so I busied myself pulling fresh groceries from the fridge. The boys had restocked it, just like I asked.

"I'll warn you. I'm a terrible cook. But I do steak better than most," I admitted, grabbing the meat from the freezer.

She giggled sweetly. I couldn't help but smile as I moved around the kitchen with my head down.

"Can I use the restroom, please?" she asked, and I paused, looking up.

"Yeah, my room's down there," I pointed behind her.

She gave a tiny smile and mouthed a thank-you before walking off.

I understood this was all too much for her. Getting a ring from someone who had failed her once, then enduring the harsh discrimination from my family. I knew it was bound to happen the instant I showed her off to them. I'd planned to be alone with her today, but I couldn't turn down Grandpa's request to meet her. He was the only one who approved of her in the family, and I needed his solidarity.

Seasoned two steaks and slid them into the oven. Easy enough. Cooking meat was a Wallace thing. We grew up hosting barbecues, so maybe that helped. With the steaks on low heat, I grabbed the tablet from the counter and scrolled through mashed potato and mushroom stew recipes.

Laid out the ingredients across the island for easy access, then I grabbed a bottle of red wine and two cups, pouring for both Lively and me. Something to sip on while I cooked.

"Peel two large potatoes," the woman instructed through the speaker. I cut them into chunks, dropped them into the pot, added salt, and turned on the stove. While they cooked, I moved on to the mushroom stew, slicing what I needed. Midway through, a notification banner popped up on the screen of my bathroom. I set the knife down.

Tempting. At least, it said no nudity, because guilt and desire were wrestling inside me.

My fingers itched to tap into the live feed just to see her.

"Don't do it," chanted in my head the whole time.

I rubbed my forehead. For God's sake, I still had garlic on my hands.

Screw it. I tapped the video.

Lively was standing in front of the mirror, feeling the red marks on her neck, so I guessed I wasn't crossing too far. Her lips parted as she exhaled, eyes fluttering shut, lashes brushing her cheeks.

I wondered what was going through her head, but all I could see was pure sensuality. Her flushed skin. Those plump lips. I wouldn't mind adding a few more love marks to the places hidden under that cute little summer dress.

Heat was spreading through my veins agonizingly. I knew I should tear my eyes from her before my tingling hardness releases in my pants right now, but I was locked in by her mesmerization. She bit her bottom lip, causing hell to break loose in the pit of my stomach. I grabbed the edges of the island for support, all my muscles tense.

"Okay," she mumbled to herself, and turned toward the door.

Shit.

Panic kicked in. My fingers scrambled on the screen, switching back to the mushroom stew video before she walked in and caught me being a psycho.

Look at me. Stalking a woman who is mine? What the hell was wrong with me?

I rubbed my eyes, took a sip of my wine, and turned around just in time to see smoke everywhere.

What the fuck?

I had followed everything step by step. No clue how this happened, except for the time I spent watching Lively on the screen.

Serves me right.

I grab the napkin, trying to clear the air.

"What is happening?" Lively's voice came from behind, and I turned to her, disheveled.

Way to impress a girl.

"In my defense, I did exactly what the video said." I pointed at the tablet.

"Maybe a little not paying attention," Lively's lips twitched, before she burst out laughing.

Perfect.

"Not the best feeling, being laughed at," I remarked as I walked out of the kitchen.

She threw up her hands, laughing harder still. "I'm not laughing, I promise,"

I walked to her and handed her the glass of wine.

"You are," I whispered when I leaned.

"I wasn't laughing at you. I was just—" She cracked, covering her face with her hand.

"Lively!"

"Mister Wallace," someone called out just as I was about to grab her and tickle her until she stopped making fun of me.

I look to the foyer. My men were alerted, definitely because of the smoke alarm.

"We're fine," I told them.

Greg headed off to set up the ventilation.

"I can cook," Lively offered as I faced her, resting a hand on the small of her back.

"No, at least not on an empty stomach." I wasn't about to let her move around the kitchen like this.

"Aaron, I'm fine. I can do it," she argued. I shut it down with a kiss on her temple.

"Allen, have the restaurant bring everything on the menu. Decorate the table too."

"Right away, Mister Wallace."

"Everything on the menu? Seriously? I can cook!" Lively protested.

I looked down at her and gently pinched her cheek. It was soft and already flushed before I added a notch.

"I brought you here so I could take care of you. Let me do that. Next time, you cook," I convinced her. She nodded then.

The air was clear now. Greg left the kitchen and joined Allen. I suddenly realized I hadn't introduced her properly.

"Greg, Allen, this is Lively Kelby. My fiancée," I told them.

"Congratulations, Miss Kelby. Mister Wallace," they both replied before introducing themselves. She smiled politely, snuggling into me with her nearly empty glass of wine. I figured she'd had enough.

I needed her sober for the rest of the day.

"I'll take a shower before the food gets here. Need anything?" I asked her and she shook her head with her lips folded.

Between getting turned on in the kitchen and battling smoke and garlic, a cold rinse felt necessary.

"You know where to find me," I told her, and she nodded before I headed toward the only bedroom on this floor.

The shower didn't take long. I wrapped a towel around my waist when I was done, took two capsules from the first aid box, and stepped out.

She was in my room.

Those leafy green eyes darted away from me the moment I caught them. Her face paled. She sprang up from the armchair, fingers twitching as she rushed to the doorway. "I, umm, I thought I'd stay in here. It was too quiet out there."

"Then why are you leaving?"

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She wouldn't look at me either.

"You've got to be comfortable around me, Liv. Eventually, we'll see each other naked. I wished for that to be today," I said without sugarcoating it.

She swallowed hard, lips pressed into a tight line. Watching her process it was the hottest thing.

She didn't reply, so I left her alone with it and headed into the dressing room.

I threw on some trousers and a white shirt, arranged my hair, added some cologne, and came out to find her still by the door. She was biting her bottom lip in that dangerous way she did.

Her eyes flicked up beneath her lashes, locking onto mine as I walked over. They had a way of enchanting a man. I didn't stop until her waist was in my hand.

She placed her hands gently over her chest and smiled shyly, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

"Stop teasing me, Lively. We're alone, and I'm trying so damn hard to be a gentleman and not rip this dress off you before I even feed you," I muttered against her face.

She looked up at me with wide eyes.

Fuck it.

"Come here." I grabbed her nape, holding her in place, and took that sweet bottom lip into my mouth. She tasted like something I would want for my last meal. I devoured her with hunger and a deep craving for more. Her tongue was warm and smooth, more confident than the last time I kissed her at the country club. Her hands' placement, too, moved around my face, my jaw, my ear, then into my hair, tugging just right.

My mind wrestled, but my body knew exactly what it wanted. I stepped forward, guiding Lively backward until we reached the bed. She let out a soft moan when I broke the kiss. I dipped, curled my hands under her thighs, and lifted her, settling on the bed with her straddling me.

She reclaimed my mouth, her hands on my face, breath trembling against my lips. Her body shivered lightly as she tried to stop herself from grinding down on my throbbing erection.

I tilted her head, exposing that perfect neck, and kissed it. She gasped, clutching my side. Every muscle in my body tightened at the sound she made.

God, I needed her naked. I needed to see what my touch could do to her.

"Mister Wallace, the table is set and ready." The alert came through the intercom. As much as I wanted to ignore it, because I was rock hard and breathing her in like air, I knew she needed to eat.

I let out a small laugh and nudged her forehead gently with mine.

"Let's feed you. We've got the rest of the day to finish this," I said. Her eyes closed, but she nodded.

Hand in hand, we left the room.

As I had requested, the fourteen-seater table was packed with food. Greg and Allen left upon our arrival.

I guided my fiancée, and God, I loved the sound of that, to the seat beside mine and pulled out her chair. I couldn't stand to have her sit any farther. I already hated not having her body against mine.

"Aaron, this is insane. We can't eat all this," she said, eyes confused as she scanned the table.

"But you'll find something you like. I don't know what your favorite food is."

She giggled and grabbed my hand, stopping me from serving. "Then we need to start getting to know each other. So this doesn't happen again," she said, cheeks flushed as she eased me into my seat. "I'll just start with whatever's in front of me. You don't have to worry."

I smiled and reached for a bottle of champagne instead. I poured lightly for her.

"What are these? I don't even recognize any of them. This could feed my entire neighborhood, you know," she half laughed.

That made me think I'd tell the guys to pack up the leftovers for the homeless when we were done.

"Believe me, you know some. They're just dressed up to look good," I explained.

She dug into the first tray, and her first impression was a seductive sound that nearly made me choke on my chicken.

"What is this? It's so good!" she gasped, already going in for another spoonful. She was too damn cute.

"From now on, Keenan will take you to and from the club," I informed her. I had been thinking about it ever since he mentioned she rides a bicycle. It wasn't safe, and I couldn't handle it. She was going to be a Wallace soon. Her life had to shift a little.

She slowed her chewing, tilted her head toward me. "That's not necessary."

Reaching over, I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, wanting to see more of her face. "It is for me."

She calmly studied my eyes for longer than most would consider normal before simply replying, "Okay," and taking a contented sip of water.

She radiated a kind of serenity no one ever wanted to lose.

I looked away and returned to eating.

"How did you learn to fly?" she asked.

"I studied aviation,"

"Really?" Her eyes widened as she set down her utensils. "I always thought... what happened to football? If I remember right, you were good at it. Or was it just a hobby like golf?" she curiously asks, but one thing she said piqued my mind.

"You always thought?"

Her gaze slipped from mine as she let her hair fall forward to hide the blush spreading across her face.

"If you'd gone pro, the whole town would have been talking about it. That's all," she said, but the lie was too obvious.

I let it pass.

"When you're a Wallace, there are certain duties you are born into. Since day one, I was chosen to handle the aviation arm of the family business, so..." I paused, and she quietly finished my sentence. "You didn't get to choose your major."

It was barely audible, but I caught it.

I nodded, and she frowned.

"Are you okay with that?" She asked with concern.

What I knew was that Wallace men did not compete with ambitious dreamers from the middle class. Benard, Dad, and Grandpa had made that clear.

"I love to fly," I said honestly.

Her expression softened.

"You fly commercial?" Her eyes lit up.

I held back a smile. "No, but I'll be your pilot pretty often," I told her, kissing the hand that wore the ring.

She smiled, satisfied.

We had been sitting at the dining table for almost two hours. It was past five, and we were having dessert.

"So you already planned the engagement when you invited me to the lake house?" She rested her chin in her palms, amusedly watching me.

"No. It was a surprise, even for me," I said honestly, catching the flicker of something sad in her eyes. "Not the part about wanting to be engaged to you. That's always been clear to me for a while now. It was the unexpected go-ahead from my grandpa that caught me off guard."

She listened silently.

"The truth is, until a few days ago, I had crossed off the idea of ever having a life partner. But the second I saw you again, I knew. If I ever wanted forever with someone, it was going to be you."

Her eyes softened, and I glanced down at our hands.

"Even if we hadn't gotten Grandma's ring, I would have still asked you."

She smiled lopsidedly.

When Grandpa handed me the ring, I realized there was no such thing as too fast with Lively. The immediate fear of losing her flashed before my eyes, and I knew she was the best thing I would ever have.

Her smile is replaced with a creased forehead. "You didn't want to get married before?"

"I had nothing to offer anyone."

"Why would you think that? Look at you. Who wouldn't want you?" she laughed softly, as if the idea were absurd.

"You only know what's easy to see."

"Then why do you think you have something to offer me?"

"Because you've already seen the worst of me... and you're still here," I paused, lacing our fingers. "You're the only one I need to make things right with. And it's not just because it feels right, which it does, but because I need you to keep me going."

She stared at me, distant. "Aaron..." her voice cracked. "I never wanted anyone," she breathed, and I swallowed hard.

"Why?"

Her smile was faint, and she ran her tongue over her lips. "Because I couldn't find you in anyone else. And no one could find me in me. You drowned me in imperfection."

Part of me liked that, but my throat closed at her last line.

"I didn't know I had that kind of power over you."

I looked down, then back at her. "You didn't deserve to be left with pieces, but I swear, I see you. All of you. You pulled yourself out. There is nothing imperfect about what you became."

"You don't know," she laughed, a tear falling down her cheek. She wiped it away before I could reach, so I took her other hand.

"I know you're the strongest woman I've ever known. What you've endured.. and somehow, you're still more put together than I've ever been."

She shook her head in denial, and I tugged her gently, pulling her from the chair and up to between my legs.

"You have no idea what it feels like inside to have you, what you mean to me. You're everything, I promise," I swallowed. She let go of my hands and cupped my face, kissing me harder. I tasted her tears.

"I want you, but," she lowered her head.

"But what?" I let out desperately, dipping my eyes to find her.

"It has to be in the dark. At night."

I didn't understand.

"Why?"

She swallowed. "I don't want you to see me."

Okay?

"Okay, but why not?"

"Please, Aaron, don't push," she said, looking into my eyes.

Right then, I knew I would give her whatever she needed. If she wanted privacy, she could have it until she said otherwise.

An idea formed in my head. "If I offer an alternative, will you take it?"

"It depends on the kind of alternative." Her smile resurfaced.

I stood and took her hand. "Come with me."

"Aaron, we are heading to your bedroom," she laughed nervously.

She didn't have to worry.

"Lively, I would never pressure you into anything," I said, stopping us in the hallway toward the bedroom. She nodded once. I saw the trust in her eyes. It meant everything. "Let me show you something."

When we stepped into the room, I closed the door and heard her sharply inhale next to me.

I tapped dark mode on the wall screen. The blinds rolled down over the windows, followed by thick curtains. As they sealed the room in, I turned off the lights. And suddenly, darkness swallowed the space.

"What about now? Will you let me have you?" I whispered, taking her waist.

She gasped softly. I felt a hand slide under my T-shirt.

My torso flinched at her touch.

"Please do, Aaron."