Chapter 1
Rory
12 days before Christmas.
“Brrrrr.” Shivering, slamming the front door behind me, I yanked off one glove with my teeth and then the other, followed by my hat. It was freezing outside.
“Mum!?” I called out whilst unzipping my favourite Saint Laurent boots, which had cost me an arm and a leg—but so worth it. Shrugging off my coat, my head twisted to look past the hall into the sitting room.
“In here, honey.”
Ah, In the kitchen. I hoped she’d be baking something yummy.
I walked on through and wasn’t disappointed, to find her extracting a rack of delicious coma-inducing sugar treats. Hands down, my mum baked the best cookies. I bounced over in delight as my mum nudged the oven door closed with her foot.
Stupidly, I tried to grab one straight off the baking tray.
“Rory—” she swatted my hand away with her gloved one. “There’s a batch over there.” She flicked her head to the side. “That won’t melt your fingers.” Tossing me a chastising stare, which quickly morphed into a smile.
Spinning on heel, I saw a plate stacked high and skipped right on over, snatching up the biggest. My teeth sank into the chocolatey goodness and my eyes rolled back into my head.De-fucking-licious!
“Drink honey?”
Mouth half-full, I lifted my hand to catch crumbs. “Sure.”
“One of those fancy teas?” Tugging off the oven mitt, dropping it on the side, and picking up the kettle to fill up. “Mahjong is it?”
I laughed. “Mahjong is a Chinese game, Mum. I think you mean Oolong.” Whatever, I was over that phase. Coffee for life. I’d learned my lesson. “And no. Back to coffee. Black.”
“Ahh,” she hummed a sigh, popping the kettle on the stove.
I loved my mum. Since I’d hit my twenties, she was more like my best friend. And to look at her, she didn’t look a day over thirty. But then she did get caught with me when she was seventeen.
“Is Phil not around?”
My mum had been dating / half-living with Phil for three years. He was a top-notch guy and treated my mum exactly how she deserved.
“Oh, he’s travelling back from Birmingham.” She glanced at her watch. “He’ll be back around seven. You want to eat with us?”
I shook my head. “No. Not tonight. I’m meeting up with Zac.”
“Zac?” Her lips curved into a smile. “What’s that—two months?” She pushed a mug of coffee in front of me.
I shrugged, nonchalant. “Don’t go getting all broody on me—it’s not serious.” You couldn’t even call it dating. More along the lines of a fuck-buddy. Not that I’d share that with my mum.
“Oh—” She paused in thought. “A delivery came for you... he’s starting early this year!” The smile she now wore was a knowing one as her perfectly plucked eyebrows arched themselves. “I’ve set them on the small table.” She lifted her mug, blowing over the top. “I thought you might have spotted them.”
I was up off my stool practically flying out of the room and there, sat on the table, was a vase of twelve white stemmed roses—my favourite and an envelope perched in the middle. I scooped it out and flipped it over, almost tearing it in two.
“He spoils you.” I heard my mum shout.
I knew who she was talking about and even if it hadn’t clicked. Only one person called me his Firefly.
Aidan Caffrey.
Pulling out the card, it read:...One Night Only.
My heart stopped and my stomach free-fell. He was keeping his promise.
On the 22nd of December.
The day after my birthday.
A car will collect you at ten am and drive you to the airport.
This date and time are not negotiable. If you have made plans, then you will need to cancel or my promise is null and void. If you are late, the driver will not wait.
Standing there with a stupid grin on my face. Only a meteorite or asteroid would stop me from going.
And me, late? Did he not know me? Punctual was my middle name. It wasn’t, but you get my meaning.
Dress casual.
Got it.
Wax your cunt. Non-compliance is a deal breaker.
A burst of heat lanced down my spine.
His instructions didn’t surprise me. I’d been doing a little research on my own. And unlike him, who had staff at his beck and call and all that fancy tech equipment. I just needed a close friend with a membership to a club that I knew he frequented.
My heart was now beating so fast I thought I might have to be ready to catch it if it lurched from my chest.
Aidan was my mum’s best friend.
I shouldn’t want him.
But I did.
He’d been around my whole life. They were best friends before they could walk. He’d even given her away at her wedding to my dad...another close friend. But that fucker had run out on us within the first year and Aidan had stepped up to look out for us. It didn’t surprise me that people often thought he was my father.
But Aidan Caffrey looked anything but fatherly.
He was perfect and beyond gorgeous and I’d not met anyone else who even came close to his level of sex appeal. The man was the definition of sexy. Over six feet tall. Thick, dark brown hair that looked styled even when messy, with just a slight hint of silver at his temples. Dark grey eyes, with a sexy muscular build. He was the same age as my mum, thirty-nine, and his age and experience made him even more appealing.
I had always adored him but when puberty hit, most girls just got the period. Me, I claimed the world’s biggest crush. At first, it was your typical crush. Drawing hearts with our initials, perfecting my signature when he asked me to become Mrs Aidan Caffrey, dreaming of a house with 2.4 children.
But as I got older. Those dreams shifted into something else altogether, something bordering on infatuation, much dirtier and my hand spent way too much time between my clammy thighs, beating off to the things I wanted him to do to me.
So why had he never married, you ask? Because, as well as his good looks, he also came with a killer sense of humour, not to mention he was kind, considerate and super smart. Oh, and loaded. The guy ran a Fortune five hundred security firm.
Did I mention he was perfect?
