“Okay, blindfold on,” he said, tossing the scrap of black silk into my lap. “Here, turn around and I’ll tie it.”
“You were actually serious about that?”
His mouth curved into a smile. “Completely. You trust me, don’t you?”
“Why, were you planning on abducting me or something? I thought we were just going to dinner.”
He leveled a stare in my direction. “Put it on, and perhaps you’ll find out.”
“Okay, okay.” I lifted it up to cover my eyes, surprised to find that the silk smelled pleasantly of lavender and vanilla. Turning in my seat, I held up the ties and waited for Aidan to secure it.
As soon as he finished, he reached over me to grab the seat belt and pull it across my lap. I heard the buckle click into place, and then we were moving, backing down the driveway.
“I hope this doesn’t make me queasy,” I said, only half joking. “The day won’t be so perfect if I puke all over the car, you know.”
“Oh, I know. Just sit tight, Vi,” came his disembodied voice.
Fifteen or so minutes later, I was convinced we were driving in circles. “Are you sure you know where you’re going?” I asked, clutching my little purse with sweaty palms.
“Hey, are you questioning my super Spidey senses?”
“I’m pretty sure Spider-Man isn’t a vampire,” I said with a laugh.
“But wouldn’t it be cool if he was? And just using the whole spider thing as a cover?”
“Hmm, I get the feeling you’ve actually thought this through.”
“Oh, you’ve no idea the extent of it.” He laid a hand on top of mine, gently stroking it. “We’re just about there, by the way.”
“Good, because I’m seriously feeling like I’m about to heave.”
We began to slow, eventually making a sharp turn to the left. Seconds later, we made another turn—into a parking spot, maybe? Finally, he shifted into park and cut the engine.
“Okay, hold tight,” he said. “Just let me come around and help you out.”
“Wait, I still have to keep the blindfold on?”
He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Just a minute or two longer, love.”
“Ugh, fine.” My carefully applied mascara was probably all smudged by now, anyway. What was a few more minutes?
Still, even though I knew I was safe with Aidan, I felt vulnerable. And . . . oh, my God, I hadn’t brought a stake. Not that I had any plans to use one, but still. Matthew would kill me if he knew I was traipsing around who knows where completely unarmed. But when I’d switched from my usual bag to the green silk clutch, I’d had to leave it behind. It’s not like I could wear it strapped to my calf, not in this dress.
Beside me, the door opened. The balmy air slipped over my skin, caressing it as Aidan’s hands reached for mine. “Careful, now,” he said, helping me out. “Okay, just hold my arm. That’s it, just a dozen steps or so, and then we’ve got some stairs to navigate. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
I nodded, stumbling along blindly beside him as best I could. “Couldn’t you just do that thing you do? You know, where I close my eyes and hold on, and we go from here to there in an instant?”
He laughed softly. “I could. But where would be the fun in that? Here’s the stairs I mentioned. Hmm, let’s try this.”
In an instant, he’d scooped me up into arms. “Hold on, love.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he sprinted effortlessly up the stairs. I suppose it was effortless to someone who possessed superhuman strength and agility.
“Okay, down you go.” He set me gently on my feet, steadying me with one arm wrapped around my middle. “Ready to take off the blindfold?”
I let out a sigh. “I thought you’d never ask.”
I felt his fingers working the ties at the back of my head, and then the silk fell away from my eyes. I blinked several times, trying to get my bearings as my eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. We were standing on a familiar white-columned porch lit by hanging brass lamps.
“The club?” I asked, surprised. “We’re having dinner here?”
“Your gran said it was nice,” Aidan answered with a shrug.
“It’s very nice.” Probably the most exclusive country club in the South—one of them, at least—and my family had been members for generations. I loved coming to the club, loved its formal elegance. I was suddenly glad Gran had suggested it. “But it’s only five minutes from Gran’s house. We were driving around for almost a half hour!”
He dipped his head closer to my ear. “Perhaps I wanted to keep you in that blindfold for as long as possible,” he whispered, his British accent more evident now. “I was enjoying imagining the possibilities. For later, perhaps?”
Heat flooded my cheeks, my pulse rocketing up to an alarming rate. I had the sudden urge to get this boy alone, and fast.
“Miss McKenna!” one of the tuxedo-clad hosts called out, interrupting my enjoyable train of thought. The man hurried over to us with a solicitous smile while I struggled to force my expression back to neutral. “Your grandmother told us to expect you. I’m afraid your table isn’t quite ready yet. If you’ll just follow me, I’ll find you a quiet place to wait.”
“That’d be great, thanks.” It was a little weird, actually, as my family had had a reserved table for as long as I could remember, but whatever. I glanced up at Aidan, who grinned at me with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.
I can hear your heart, he said inside my head. Beating awfully fast now, isn’t it?
Shut up. I nudged him in the ribs as we followed the host down the long hallway, past the main dining room on the right, and turned left instead. He opened a door and motioned for us to enter.
Only, something wasn’t right. Instinctively, I reached for my bag, wanting my stake. But then I remembered that I’d left it at home, that I had only my silly little clutch.
Crap.
Reluctantly, I took a step though the doorway and then froze, one hand gripping Aidan’s sleeve. My heart thrummed against my ribs, my breath coming faster as I noticed that the room—the ballroom, if I remembered correctly—was completely dark.
Dark room. No stake. I didn’t like this, not one bit. My panic ratcheted up a notch, and I struggled to tamp it down, to calm my breathing.
Aidan reached for my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Everything’s fine,” he said, dragging me forward now.
What the—
“Surprise!”
The crystal chandeliers flickered to life, the ballroom suddenly full of light—and people. Tons of people.
I let out my breath in a rush, relief washing over me as I glanced around the room, ticking off the familiar faces as they launched into an enthusiastic chorus of “Happy Birthday.”
Whitney, Sophie, Tyler. Cece and Joshua. Marissa and Max. Kate and Jack. A dozen or so of my old friends from Windsor Day, including a couple of guys from the fencing team. A few of Whitney’s ballet buddies whom I’d gotten friendly with over the years.
And there in the back, standing beside a cut-glass punch bowl, was Matthew, one hand resting on the back of Gran’s wheelchair. Beside them, Lupe and Melanie. Whitney’s parents, even.
Tears sprang to my eyes as I took it all in—the colorful decorations, a table piled high with presents, a DJ set up in the back, an enormous cake beside the punch bowl. Round tables were set with lavender and cream-colored linens; china place settings gleamed beside heavy silverware and crystal glasses. In the center of each table sat a floral arrangement. I could smell them, even from where I stood just inside the door—orange blossoms.