Wedding Planner's Golden Rule: Don't fall in love with the groom.
Handsome, charming, billionaire playboy, Aiden Carlisle's wedding to beautiful, but demanding Caroline Baxter is set to be the event of the century.
Sweet, smart and talented, Rosalie...
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I watched Aiden as he stood shirtless in my kitchen, leaning against the counter, his back turned to me. He sipped coffee from the mug that he had told me was his mug as he read an article from Business Insider.
I looked at his back muscles flexing whenever he raised his mug to his mouth and I bit my lip, thinking of how good his muscles felt in my hands.
Grinning to myself, I typed out a text to him, seeing the empty countertops.
The severe lack of pancakes is just unbearable.
I heard his phone ding and he laughed.
Aiden turned, his bright hazel eyes finding me easily.
"Come over here and give me some sugar and then we'll talk about pancakes," he wagered.
I made a face, but went to him, anyway. "Give me some sugar?" I asked, "Are you from the seventies?"
Aiden pulled me in by the waist and pressed his lips to my forehead. "Pancakes?" he asked me.
I nodded, vigorously.
Aiden laughed. "Anything for you, Rosa."
Without a second thought, he walked around the kitchen, getting supplies and began making pancakes for me.
"One of these days," he said, "I might not make you pancakes."
"And that day I will know that you have been cloned and that your clone is evil," I told him and he laughed again, gloriously, pouring flour into a bowl.
Aiden never made pancakes with the pancake mix. He always did it from scratch. He told me that when you make it with the mix, you can't add in the love.
Aiden said asinine things like that sometimes and made me wonder how in the world he even became the business mogul he is.
He was never in a rush around me; he never tried to leave as soon as we had finished eating. When we sat down to have breakfast, we were actually able to have a conversation.
Aiden treated me like he wanted me to know that I was important to him.
After I got dressed, I wandered back into the kitchen and Aiden had already made a stack of pancakes.
Once we had eaten, Aiden kissed me softly and left to get back to his place to get ready for work.
We had only been together for about a month, so we hadn't moved in together. That didn't stop Aiden from spending every night in my apartment, though. He never even made it seem like something he had to do.
To Aiden, spending the night in my house and waking up with me was something he wanted to do. And I was happy to let him do it.
