Page 11 of His to Cherish
I pressed my lips together to hold back my smile. His pain rolled off him in thick, slow waves. I could feel it from the other side of the table, and it took my breath away.
“I’m sorry.” I swallowed.
“I couldn’t take it tonight. The looks, the smiles…so I didn’t go home when I saw Ashley’s mom on my front stoop, bottle of wine and chocolate cake box from the bakery in hand. Saw you and stopped before I knew what I was doing.”
“I’m glad you did.” I kept talking, wishing I could shut up, but my brain didn’t get the message in time. “Next time get the cake before you come, though.”
He snorted. I thought it might be a laugh, or almost one. Or maybe he thought I was ridiculous for thinking he was ever going to stop by again.
I was a distraction. One he clearly needed, but that didn’t mean he was going to become a regular at my dinner table.
“Yeah. I bet it was good. Kate’s Kakes are amazing.”
He looked at me then and his lips twitched. Slowly they pulled into a small, sad smile.
It still took my breath away. I had always thought Aidan was incredibly handsome. He wasn’t just attractive, but he carried himself in a confident way without seeming cocky. He simply knew who he was, worked hard to be a good man, and it showed in everything he did and said. I’d harbored a crush on him for years and my entire circle of friends knew it.
Not that I was going to be telling any of them about this visit. If Aidan had stopped by my house to see me, I figured it meant he didn’t want to spend time with his own friends or go see Declan at work.
Yeah, I was okay with being his distraction.
I returned his smile, and then jumped when his chair scraped against my cement patio. “I should go.”
He reached for his plate, but my hand moved quickly, covering his, stilling him.
Oh…he was so warm. My palm burned from the touch and I pulled my hand back, but it was too late. A fiery, tingly sensation shot up my arm and straight to my lower stomach.
“I’ll do it,” I said.
He arched an eyebrow, stared at his hand and then at my eyes. I looked down to my own plate before he saw the obvious attraction and desire burning in my eyes and on my cheeks.
This wasn’t the time for an attraction. I knew it.
“I want to help.”
So did I. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to help this sad, lonely man. Nothing I’d ever experienced, nothing I’d ever lost, compared at all to the magnitude of his grief.
I stood up, forcing away the inappropriate feelings coursing through my veins, and grabbed his plate before he could. “You cooked, I clean. It’s a rule.”
I turned and headed inside, only to hear him quietly mutter, “I’ve never been much of a rule follower.”
Aidan stayed out on the patio, staring off into the now-setting sun while I quickly brought everything back inside. When I carried in the last of the dishes and condiment bottles, he followed me, closing the sliding door behind him.
I stopped at the kitchen island, bracing myself against it when I felt him walk up next to me.
He set his beer on the counter before stepping back.
I stared at the speckled pattern in my granite as if I was seeing it for the first time. I couldn’t move, and I couldn’t look at him. Who knew what he’d see in my expression?
The last thing I wanted was for him to see me as what he’d called a vulture.
I just wanted to help.
I felt a bond because of what I saw, and who he was. We had mutual friends—it was okay for us to spend time together.
It was completely innocent.
Or entirely inappropriate.
