The Aubrey Rules (11 page)

Chapter 16

The Aubrey Rules To Live By, Rule #16:
If he’s not a good kisser, it doesn’t go past one date. You need chemistry, and you won’t have chemistry if he can’t kiss.

**Note**
OH. MY. CAPTAIN. This is the hottest, sexiest kiss I’ve
ever
had.

**Note #2**
Note #1 needs to be emphasized more. BECKETT IS THE BEST KISSER EVER. EVER!!!!

His lips are warm and soft and simply lingering on mine in the most whisper-like kiss I’ve ever received. My body explodes from that simple contact. I want more. I need more. I need to drink him in.

Beckett then eases my mouth open with a slow, deliberate, teasing kiss. Heat flashes through me the second I feel his tongue moving against mine. I instinctively run my hands through his hair as we explore each other with this sexy kiss. His mouth is warm and tastes of mint and, oh, my captain knows how to work his lips against mine.

I drink him up, every part of his kiss, his lips, his tongue, needing this kiss like I need air. His hair is thick and soft and glides through my fingers. Beckett increases the intensity of the kiss, and we shift from slow and sensual to heated and passionate.

My heart is racing. My pulse is beyond measure. His hands are down my back, in my hair, at my waist, all over me. I’m tugging at his hair, feeling his chest, exploring him just as he is me. This is the kiss I’ve been waiting for my whole life, but never knew it until this moment.

Beckett breaks the kiss, and I stare up at him as I try to catch my breath.

He stares seriously at me, his brown eyes deep with intensity. “I need to do that again.”

Then his mouth descends on mine, kissing me hungrily. I moan against his lips, and he deepens the kiss. I’m going to kiss this man all night. I’m going to kiss Beckett until my lips are numb. I never want to stop kissing this man.

Finally Beckett stops kissing me, and we both come up for air. He strokes his hands through my hair again and presses his forehead to mine in the sweetest of gestures.

“It’s going to be hard for me to stop that,” Beckett says.

“Who says you have to?” I reply, laughing.

Beckett stands up, a huge smile spread across his face. “Come on now. You didn’t say your ideal date would be one big make-out session,” he teases.

“That’s before I knew you’d be such a great kisser,” I blurt out.

As soon as the words escape my lips, I feel my face grow hot. Beckett laughs, and I know my face is on fire now.

“So I’m a great kisser, eh?” he asks.

Okay, time to turn the tables on him.

“Why yes, you are,” I say, my hands dancing around his waist. I cock my head to the side and study him. “In fact, your kisses are scorching, Captain. I practically imploded from them.”

That does it. He begins to blush, and I die laughing.

“You’re so cute when you get embarrassed,” I say.

“Stop it,” Beckett demands.

“I’d better be careful. I’d hate to implode just as I’m getting to know you.”

Now Beckett is turning blood red. He rubs his hand across his face, his uncomfortable move, and my heart melts in response.

“If I kiss you again, will you stop?” he asks.

I burst out laughing. “You’re adorable. And sexy. I know why I checked yes, Beckett.”

He draws me into his arms and hugs me. “Come on, let me get you a glass of wine,” he says, kissing the top of my head.

Oooooooooh, I like him. I really, really, like him.

I sit down on the couch and Beckett pours two glasses of wine. He hands me one and sits down next to me. I snuggle into him and never has anything felt so right to me as this moment does.

“You should be safe from meltdown now,” Beckett cracks.

I burst out laughing and park my wine on the coffee table. “Yes, I am.”

“So normally I’d start by asking how your day was,” Beckett says, taking a sip of his wine before placing it on the table, “but I already know it sucked.”

“Ugrh,” I groan. “No work talk. Unless we talk about hockey. That I approve of.”

“Nah, no hockey talk,” Beckett says, winding his fingers through my hair in an affectionate way. “I want to talk about you. That’s what interests me tonight.”

“What if I’m more interested in talking about
you?
” I flirt back.

Beckett laughs. “Okay, we’ll take turns. But I get to go first.”

Although he can’t see me, I’m beaming that he insists on asking the first question.

“Go ahead caller, you’re on the air,” I joke.

Beckett laughs and kisses the top of my head. “You’re crazy.”

I prop myself up so I can see him. Beckett’s eyes are dancing.

“I am. But you
like
it,” I insist.

“I do. Now can I ask my question?” Beckett teases.

I laugh. “Boy, when you aren’t being the one interviewed you grab the opportunity with both hands, don’t you?”

“Yes. Now get serious, these are important.”

“I’m ready,” I say, putting on a straight face.

“Are you a morning or night person?”

“Night. Definitely night,” I say. “I stay up late reading—”

“Reading social media or a book?” Beckett interrupts.

“Both,” I admit. “What about you?”

“Definitely night,” Beckett says. “I’m up late with hockey, and it takes me time to wind down after a game.”

I nod. I can see that.

“My turn,” I say. “TV or movies?”

“TV,” Beckett says easily. “I can survive with the Discovery Channel, History Channel, and ESPN. You?”

“Movies,” I declare. “I love old romantic comedies.”

“That surprises me,” Beckett says. “With you being all about the latest social media, I thought you’d be into everything new.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” I say, shaking my head. “I love the romance of the old movies. My favorite movie of all time is
Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
”

We continue the light questions, and I can’t ever remember having this much fun on a date before. I learn so much about Beckett—what it was like to grow up in Toronto with three brothers, how the house was crazy with all of them playing hockey. The exact opposite of my quiet house, with me being an only child.

I learn he has a passion for the water and loves spending time near the ocean. In Hawaii. I love Hawaii as well, but I haven’t been to Kona, which is Beckett’s favorite off-season spot. I share the same love for the beaches of Hawaii, and we both get geeky about going to aquariums, too.

But with each question, I find myself falling more for him. How Beckett loves his family, how Landy is his best friend and makes him laugh, how he has a weakness with anything that has the flavor of birthday cake in it.

In turn, I share stories about things I’ve done with Livy. And, of course, he already guessed my food weakness was French fries. Followed by pastries.

Gradually our conversation shifts to more serious questions.

“What’s the most important value to you?” I ask. “I mean, the most important value for a woman to have?”

“That’s easy,” Beckett says. “She has to be genuine.”

I love that answer, that being genuine is the most important thing to Beckett.

“And why is that the most important value?”

“Ever since I started excelling at hockey,” Beckett says slowly, “girls pursued me. But I knew it was because I was a player. It wasn’t because of anything I said, or how I treated them, or if I could make them laugh. It wasn’t a genuine interest, you know?”

I nod. I can see that.

“I want to find someone who likes me for
Beckett,
” he explains. “Who genuinely doesn’t mind that I’m awkward in social situations. Who doesn’t care that I’ll watch a shark documentaries a million times over. That I want someone who likes all the pieces of me and would still like me if I wasn’t on the ice. I want a woman who will be herself with me. Who will act how she wants and not to impress me or be the woman she thinks I would want. I need genuine.”

I absolutely fall harder for him with this answer. It was so real, so honest, and so straight from his heart.

“What about you?” Beckett asks, linking my hand in his and interrupting my thoughts. “What is the quality you value most?”

“Acceptance,” I say. “I want a man who will accept me the way I am. That I ramble when I talk. That I get mad too easily, that I’m obsessed with rules. That’s the quality I want the most.”

Beckett gazes into my eyes. I see warmness in them. My heart flutters, and he brings my hands to his lips and kisses it gently.

“I like your answer.”

“I like yours, too.”

We’re silent for a moment. I know we’ve just grown in this conversation. We’re finding the things we’ve been looking for, and finding them in each other.

“So how many children do you want?” Beckett asks.

I grin at him. “Three,” I say. Beckett lifts up his hand and begins looping his fingers through my hair again, and I relish the feel of his touch. “What about you?”

“Eight.”

“What?
Eight?
”

“I can afford it,” Beckett says seriously.

I bite my lip. Okay, I see serious potential with Beckett and I’m falling for him at the speed of light, but eight kids?
Eight?

Then I see the crooked smile tug at the corner of his mouth, and I know he’s kidding.

“Beckett!” I cry, mock hitting him on the arm. “I thought you were serious.”

He closes his hand over my wrist and places it over his chest. “No. I’m one of four. Four is good. I was teasing you.”

“You’re so mean,” I say, laughing.

“I’m sorry,” Beckett says, lifting his other hand underneath my hair. “Let me make it up to you.”

As Beckett presses his lips against mine, I know this is the best first date I’ve ever had. Filled with conversation and laughter and kissing. It’s perfect for me.

And I’m beginning to think Beckett is perfect for me, too.

“I don’t want this to end,” I murmur against Beckett’s full lips.

The whole evening has been beyond what I’d hoped. We drank wine and laughed and talked about everything under the sun. Sometimes it was serious, other times it was anything but. And of course, loads of kissing and caressing in between.

“You can stay,” Beckett murmurs back before kissing me again.

I’m lying on his sofa, wrapped in his arms, and we’ve been kissing for
hours.
My lips are deliciously numb. And right now Beckett is kissing the side of my neck, which makes it incredibly hard to even entertain the idea of leaving.

“Mmmmmm,” I moan as his warm mouth reaches my collarbone, and I shiver from his touch. I rake my fingers through his hair and close my eyes, wanting to stay in his arms forever.

“You smell so good,” Beckett whispers against my skin. “I love the scent of your skin. Have I mentioned that?”

I giggle. “Maybe once or twice. Or five times.”

He finds my lips and we kiss again, this time slowly and sweetly as we both know the evening is coming to an end.

I break the kiss and put my hand to his face. “I need to go. I don’t want to, but I should.”

Beckett gazes down at me. “I know. It’s late.”

“And you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Yeah, this whole hockey thing,” Beckett teases. “Gotta do it.”

He pushes himself up, and I sit up, too. I retrieve my shoes from underneath the coffee table and slip them back on. Then I turn to Beckett and smile at him.

“Thank you for tonight,” I say, my heart feeling full with joy. “It was the perfect evening.”

Beckett reaches for my hand and kisses it. “It was for me, too.”

He stands up and brings me with him.

“Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

I laugh, and he does, too.

We hold hands as we leave his condo and head down the hall to the elevator.

“You still good for brunch on Sunday?” Beckett asks as we wait for the elevator.

“I want to do something for you,” I say, squeezing his hand in mine. “I’m going to cook for you.”

“You are, eh?” Beckett says as the doors open.

I nod happily. “I am. Except it has to be at your place because Sunday is a show day, and I can’t make a mess.”

Then I mentally will everyone who views the condo on Sunday to hate it so I don’t have to worry about moving away from Beckett.

Beckett laughs. “Okay, I can agree to that.”

As the doors close, Beckett pulls me into his arms and I feel the butterflies swirl happily in my stomach. Funny. I’ve run out of red flags for Mallory but have an endless supply of butterflies for Beckett.

“We can do a Connectivity video chat tomorrow if you want,” Beckett says, dropping another kiss on the top of my forehead.

“I do,” I say, thinking he hasn’t even left and I’m already starting to miss him.

The elevator chimes on my floor. We step out, hand in hand, and he walks me all the way to my door.

“Thank you for coming over,” Beckett says, caressing my face with his hand.

Oh, I like him, I like him, I so like him.

“Thank you for making it perfect,” I say truthfully.

I take a moment to unlock the door, and then I turn back to him. Beckett wraps me in his huge arms and gazes down at me.

“I’m glad you thought it was, Aubrey.”

He drops his head down and presses his lips against mine. We share a sweet kiss, and Beckett breaks the kiss.

“Okay, if I don’t leave now, I won’t,” Beckett says, framing my face in his hands. He gently brushes his lips against my forehead. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” I say, smiling at him. I step inside and shut the door behind me, collapsing against the solid surface.

I know I have the stupidest smile on my face. My heart is pounding, my lips can hardly work anymore, and I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow. My rules have been ripped up and for all intents and purposes, been thrown down Lake Shore Drive. I don’t care if I’m not professional. I don’t care if I should be proceeding with caution.

All I know is one truth.

I’m crazy about Beckett.

And I can’t wait to see him on Sunday morning.