CHAPTER9
Rose
Aiden’s side of the bed is empty when I wake up.
Thank god.
Moving quietly and cautiously, I slip out of bed and tug on the dress I wore to dinner last night, then slip out into the hallway. I poke around a bit first to make sure Aiden is truly gone, despite the fact that I can practicallyfeelhis absence in the house. Once I’m certain he’s not here, I start to snoop around a bit.
I don’t know what I’m looking for. Aiden wouldn’t have left me alone if there was really anything scandalous for me to find. If he thought I could get into shit while he was gone, I’d probably be shadowed by some scary bodyguard acting like a jailer right now.
Some of the doors are locked. I try an ornate brass doorknob and find it doesn’t budge, then push against a wood door just to find it firmly shut.
The rooms I do find my way into are the ones Aiden showed me when I first arrived. Nothing holds interest for me in the sitting room. There aren’t even any family pictures. It’s all strangely impersonal for a man that seems to value his family over everything else.
I know the O’Reilly family is close-knit. The brothers are tight, and it wasn’t hard to tell that their restaurant ambush was something they’re used to. They work as a unit, like a pack of wolves.
So it’s odd that I don’t see pictures of Lachlan or Finn, or even Connor. There aren’t any little personal touches in the living room. No receipts, no tickets to movies, not even spare change. There’s nothing.
It’s like no one lives here.
Somehow it makes me feel even more uneasy than I already do. It’s like I can’t find a window into Aiden’s mind.
I don’t know him anymore, and this place makes it even harder to know him.
Despite the nerves twisting in my stomach, it growls with hunger, so I pad into the kitchen and root around in the fridge and pantry for something to eat.
I’m just finishing up my makeshift breakfast when the sound of the front door opening reaches my ears. I jump up, my heart lurching in my chest as I stride out of the kitchen.
I step into the foyer just as a dark-haired man closes the front door behind him, and the two of us lock gazes.
Jamie.
I recognize him immediately, and I have vivid memories of hearing the girls—and some guys—back in high school sigh and whisper over him.
He’s the same as he was then, lean and tall. His jet-black hair has a bluish tint in the light and his eyes are gray, looking like storm clouds set in his face.
Handsome isn’t quite the word for Jamie. He has long lashes, chiseled features, and dark eyebrows that make his eyes seem even lighter. He looks more like a model than an average man, like someone worth painting.
He’s not my type, but I always knew why my girlfriends would stare at him. It was just too bad for them that he was taken.
“Rose,” Jamie says, breaking the silence. “Sorry to bother you.”
“No. Um, not at all. Come in.”
I feel like I’m in some bizarre parody of my own life. This isn’t my house and he isn’t my friend, yet I’m inviting him in like we’re about to talk over lunch and drinks.
Jamie nods. “Excuse me.”
I realize as he starts to move that he has things with him. Suitcases.
My suitcases.
I stare as Jamie rolls in a few things, carefully bringing everything inside. I don’t even know how to ask him how the fuck he has my things or even why.
But I know why.
“I have your things,” he explains belatedly. “I would have called ahead to make sure I didn’t miss anything, but I didn’t want to wake you.”
