Page 13 of His to Cherish
Aidan was in front of me, his own shovel in hand, biting the inside of his bottom lip.
He looked at me with some sort of question in his eyes but he didn’t say anything.
I didn’t, either. I nodded once, letting him know he was welcome to help if he wanted, since that was apparently what he came for. Then I gripped the handles on the wheelbarrow, moving it to where I needed to dump it.
When I returned to the mulch pile, Aidan was still standing in the same place, shovel ready, and he began scooping the mulch as soon as I let go of the wheelbarrow.
He seemed to need this. I quietly reminded myself that he was probably in a place similar to Shane when he visited me at lunch. He didn’t want to be alone. Didn’t want to be in a quiet place that reminded him of his loss.
I didn’t want to add to his pain, and I didn’t know how to take it away, but I could give him my company. Like I did with Shane, I let Aidan do what he needed to do.
All the while, I fought off a smile, because even in silence, I liked his company.
Probably too much, but for me, it was nice not to be alone anymore, either.
We worked all morning. By the time lunchtime hit, my back was aching and my knees and thighs burned from the hard work. As I took a step back to survey our progress, I rubbed the sweat off my forehead and smiled.
At some point, without any conversation, Aidan and I fell into a system where I transplanted the shrubs and spread the mulch while Aidan scooped it up and dumped it in piles around the landscaped area.
“Looks good.”
His voice surprised me and I jumped.
I nodded and my hands fell to my hips. “It does. Thanks for your help.”
I looked to my left where Aidan stood with his hand braced on top of the shovel, almost leaning against it as if the thin wood handle could actually support his muscular frame. He seemed lost as he stared at the newly planted evergreen shrubs and mums I planted for a splash of color.
The mulch was bright and clean and the front of my house looked absolutely beautiful. I sighed, trying to figure out what else to say, when a car pulled into my driveway. It had a sign on the top with a picture of a pizza and the number for delivery. I shot Aidan a confused look. He shrugged.
“Called last time I went in to the restroom. Thought you’d be hungry when we were done here.”
“That was…” Amazing…thoughtful…For some reason, the words lodged in my throat. “Nice. Thank you.”
He looked at the delivery boy getting out of the car carrying three large boxes and my eyes widened. Aidan began walking away from me, hand reaching to his back pocket, and said, “I don’t have to stay.”
I smiled even though he couldn’t see me. “Pretty sure I can’t eat all that.”
When the kid was paid and hopped back into his car, I met Aidan at the front door, hiding my smile.
“In the backyard again?” I asked, opening the door. I moved to the side, letting Aidan walk through, and he headed immediately to the kitchen at the back, dropping the pizza boxes onto the island like he’d been in my house a thousand times and was completely comfortable in it.
A strange flutter flickered through my chest.
“I need to get cleaned up first.” I turned to head down the hall to my room and bathroom, intent on scrubbing the dirt off me, when Aidan’s voice made me stop.
“Don’t…” I turned around to see him staring at me. His eyes dropped to my chest quickly before meeting my eyes again. “Please.”
I swallowed, fighting back the blush that was creeping up my neck and failing. Miserably. My entire body felt like it had just gotten set on fire with embarrassment.
Lifting my hands, I grinned, but my lips were trembling as I headed toward the half bath off the kitchen. “I meant scrub the dirt off my hands.”
As I walked away, he muttered something in a strained voice that sounded similar to “Thank Christ,” but that couldn’t be.
I probably had mud clogging my ears.
By the time I was done washing my hands, Aidan had the pizza boxes, two plates, and two glasses of water set up on my patio table outside. I joined him, sliding into the same chair I’d sat in last night.
“That’s a lot of pizza,” I told him when he flicked open the boxes. There were three large pizzas, but each of them had different toppings on each half. Six different types of pizza sat in front of me.
