Falling for the Fling

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Falling for the Fling Page 11

by Lili Valente


  Aria stops me with a hand in the air, rolls her shoulders back and sashays into the backyard. A moment later, I hear her introducing Melody and Nash, then telling Nash how to light the torches and thanking him for sticking around to enjoy the evening.

  “She really is going to kill me,” I mumble as I set my wine down and go to check the simmering marinade.

  “Why?” Mason asks. “How do they know each other?”

  “I have no idea.” I shrug and shake my head.

  “You don’t think they dated, do you?”

  I arch a brow his way. “You think?”

  He chuckles softly. “Yeah, that wasn’t ‘used to be friends’ tension.”

  “Or ‘used to be enemies’ tension,” I agree. “They definitely were a thing at some point, but I have no idea when. I know I’ve joked about not remembering the names of all her boyfriends, but I would have remembered a name like Nash. And I have no idea what Daddy has to do with anything. He usually did his best not to interact with the guys Aria dated, at least not until it was clear she was going to keep one around for a while.”

  “In denial,” Mason says with a smile.

  “Totally in denial.” I laugh as I give the basting sauce one last stir before declaring it ready and turning off the heat. “He’s like that with Melody’s boyfriends, too. You were the only one he ever really liked.”

  Mason comes closer, putting his arms around my waist. “Think he’ll be happy to see us back together when he gets home?”

  I turn to him, unable to resist running my fingertips down his scruffy jaw. “Maybe not at first, but once he sees how happy I am, he’ll come around. Don’t worry about Daddy.”

  “I’ll prove to him that I won’t screw up again. Just like I’ll prove it to you,” Mason says, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead that makes my entire body light up. “Now, what can I do to help? Chop the salad?”

  “No, Melody did the sides this afternoon. I just need to get the steaks started. Why don’t you go rescue Nash from my sisters, talk manly stuff, and I’ll be out in a second.”

  Mason nods and ambles toward the backdoor. “I’ll do my best, but I’ll never be as manly as Nash. He’s even bigger than he used to be. Enough to intimidate we lesser specimens.”

  I shoot him an amused look. “As if.”

  Mason grins. “I get intimidated.”

  “You’re no ‘lesser specimen.’ You’re the best looking man I’ve ever seen,” I say, propping a hand on one hip. “If you were any better looking, I’d have to beat other women off of you with a stick. A big, heavy, spiky stick.”

  “I’d like to watch that,” Mason says, making me laugh as I shoo him out the door.

  “Get out,” I say. “Or we won’t be eating until eight o’clock.”

  I bustle about the kitchen, taking the avocado sauce out to warm up to room temperature and getting everything ready to bring out to the grill, smiling to myself the entire time. I can’t help it. Even knowing Aria is going to unleash her crankiness upon me as soon as the boys leave tonight isn’t enough to dampen my spirits.

  Ten minutes later, I join the party in progress in the backyard, shocked to see Nash down on the grass on his hands and knees with Felicity, playing with a big red ball, making the baby squeal with laughter. I shoot Aria a look as I cross to the grill, but she only shrugs and takes a long drink of her Chardonnay.

  “They look like puppies,” Melody whispers as Nash crawls across the grass to fetch the ball and Felicity follows with an excited burble. “They’re so cute!”

  “Shush,” Aria says beneath her breath.

  “But they are, Ra,” Melody says. “I wish Brian had been able to come tonight. He thinks little babies are boring, but I’ve never seen—”

  “All right, time for a diaper change,” Aria calls out brightly, setting her empty glass down and hurrying to scoop Felicity off the grass. The baby fusses for a minute, but then Aria lifts her up to blow onto her bare belly and Felicity begins to giggle and squeal once more.

  She really is the happiest baby.

  Too bad Aria is so miserable.

  As the evening wears on and we all settle down to eat, things only get worse. I know no one else realizes what’s going on—not even Melody, who is clearly enjoying the food and company—but it’s obvious to me that Aria is dying a little inside every time Felicity reaches for Nash.

  I’m worried a blood vessel in my sister’s brain is going to burst when Felicity finishes her baby food and chunks of banana and insists on sitting on Nash’s lap, gumming tiny pieces of steak he places on the edge of his plate for her.

  “Are you sure that’s okay?” Aria asks. “I’m afraid she’s going to choke. She’s never eaten red meat before, only a little chicken I cut up in chunks.”

  “Aw, she’ll be fine,” Nash drawls. “She’s nine months, right?”

  Aria blinks in surprise. “Yes. Just about. Next week, actually.”

  Nash nods and grins at the baby who gurgles happily and drools onto the big hand he has wrapped around her tummy, holding her safe on his knee. “Yeah, she’ll be all right. My mom always said that after six months babies could eat just about anything, as long as the pieces were small enough.”

  “She should know,” Mason says. “Nash has, what, ten brothers and sisters?”

  “Eleven of us total,” Nash confirms, his eyes still on the baby. “I’m the oldest, so I’ve got lots of practice feeding rugrats. My mama and daddy both worked nights growing up. Most days I was in charge of dinner for the whole tribe and whatever cousins decided to drop by.”

  “Seems like you’d be sick of babies,” Aria says.

  “How could anyone ever get sick of babies?” Nash jogs his knee and Felicity grins up at him, that gummy grin that always makes me want to scoop my sweet niece up and squeeze her tight.

  “The waking up three times in the night part can get a little exhausting,” Aria says in a weary voice, making me feel terrible for not offering to get up with Felicity while I’ve been staying with them.

  Felicity is a great baby, but she still wants a bottle two or three times a night, and Aria doesn’t get much uninterrupted rest. It’s really no wonder my sister is cranky. She’s probably severely sleep deprived.

  “She should be sleepin’ through the night by now,” Nash says. “She’s just messing with you.”

  “She’s a baby,” Aria says.

  “Doesn’t mean she can’t mess with her mama.” Nash laughs softly. “They start young these days, don’t they, Skeeter?”

  “Skeeter?” Melody asks.

  “She kind of looks like a Skeeter, don’t you think?” Nash asks, summoning another happy burble from Felicity. He reaches for his water glass, smile slipping as he meets Aria’s eyes across the table. “I could give you some tips on how to get her trained to sleep better, if you want,” he says in a careful voice.

  Aria falters, looking torn, before she finally shakes her head. “Thank you, but that’s all right. It’s just a stage. I’m sure she’ll grow out of it sooner or later.”

  “She will.” Nash nods. “But you’d feel more rested, and be a better mama to her, if it was sooner.”

  “I’m doing fine, thanks,” Aria says, anger creeping into her tone.

  Nash shrugs and smiles his good-old-boy grin. “Just trying to help, Princess.”

  Aria clenches her jaw and turns her attention back to her plate, not saying a word. Mason jumps in to cover the awkward moment by asking Melody what she’s been up to during her week off, and soon the table is alive with comfortable chatter again.

  Chatter from everyone except Aria.

  She doesn’t speak again until over an hour later, when the boys have finished loading the dishwasher, while we cleaned up outside, and Nash and Mason are drifting toward the door.

  Aria passes through the living room with a sleepy-looking Felicity snuggled in her arms and pauses at the bottom of the stairs. “Good night, Mason. Good seeing you again, Nash.”
r />   Nash hesitates only a fraction of a second, but it’s enough for me to see surprise and a more mysterious emotion I can’t quite place flicker behind his eyes. “Good to see you, too,” he says. “And to meet Felicity. She’s a sweetheart.”

  “Thanks, and thank you for—” Aria breaks off mid-sentence.

  Nash is already out the door and halfway down the walk to his car.

  Aria glances down at the floor, looking so forlorn I want to run across the room and hug her. “Well, anyway…” She sighs. “Good night, everyone. I’ll see whoever’s here in the morning. Sleep well.”

  She turns and walks stiffly up the stairs, and I know right then that I won’t be dragging Mason off to my apartment tonight. It doesn’t matter that Melody promised to stay in her old room so Aria won’t be alone, there are times when a middle sister knows her unique, bridging-the-gap skills are needed, and this is definitely one of those times.

  “I know,” Mason whispers, when I stop by the door instead of grabbing my purse and racing him to his car. “Go take care of her. See what’s up.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I should be sorry. I should have mentioned your name. Maybe then Nash would have realized you and Aria were related and all the awkwardness could have been avoided.”

  I wince. “Our plan failed pretty miserably, didn’t it?”

  “Crashed and burned and caught the surrounding forest on fire,” he says with a wry smile.

  “Such a shame,” I say with a sigh. “Nash seemed so nice, and I think Felicity is in love.”

  “Aria handled that well,” Mason says. “I’m sure it was hard. Seeing a man she doesn’t care for connecting with her daughter.”

  I nod. “I’m sure. I should go check on her.”

  “Go. Tell her I appreciate her giving me a chance tonight, and that we’ll babysit for her soon so she can get some sleep. I bet we can rig up someplace for the baby to sleep at your apartment, right?”

  “Of course we can. I was thinking the same thing.” My chest suddenly feels tight. “You’re a good man, you know that?”

  Mason shrugs self-consciously. “I just know what it’s like to be sleep deprived. It’s hard enough when you’re getting paid to work ridiculous hours.”

  “You’re still a good man.” I stand on tiptoe, brushing my lips across his cheek, knowing I won’t be able to stop if I go for his lips, but needing to kiss him one last time. “See you tomorrow.”

  “I’ll pick you up at noon,” Mason says, brushing my hair over my shoulder, his fingers lingering deliciously at the back of my neck. “I can’t wait to spend another day with you.”

  “Me, too.” My breath rushes out. “But now you have to leave, before I forget how much I want to be a good sister.”

  He grins. “All right. Good night.”

  “Good night.” I lean against the doorframe, unable to resist taking a moment to enjoy watching him walk away. It doesn’t make me sad now. Because I know he’ll be walking right back to me as soon as he can.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lark

  Mom and Dad’s room is the largest bedroom in the house. When Aria came home, they moved into the guest room, shifting their old furniture around to fit Felicity’s crib and changing table in the corner behind a wicker screen. The screen gives Aria the illusion of privacy and keeps Felicity from being able to see her mama asleep in bed, but Felicity still ends up sleeping with Aria most nights, after she wakes up to have her milk and refuses to go back to her crib without putting up such a fuss Aria worries it will wake the rest of the house.

  So when I knock softly on the half-open door before pushing it in, I’m not surprised to find Aria lying on top of her bed fully clothed with an arm thrown over her face and Felicity asleep in a similar pose next to her on the king-size bed.

  “Aria,” I whisper. “Are you awake?”

  Aria doesn’t move a muscle, but whispers, “Yes.”

  “Can I talk to you?” I ask, tip-toeing into the room.

  Aria breathes slowly in and back out. “About what?”

  “You know what. Put Felicity in her bed and come downstairs. Let me make you a cup of cocoa.”

  “How about a shot of whiskey, instead?” Aria asks, still not moving or uncovering her eyes.

  I ponder that for a moment. “I don’t think Mom and Dad have any whiskey, but there’s still beer in the fridge.”

  Aria sighs. “It’s all right. I don’t really want whiskey. Or cocoa. I’m just going to get ready for bed. It’s been a long night.”

  “So you don’t want to kill me anymore?”

  “No. I don’t want to kill you.” Aria finally moves her arm from across her face and opens her eyes, but she doesn’t look my way. Her gaze remains fixed on the ceiling. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. Like usual. Like everything else.”

  “No, it isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have tried to surprise you,” I say, pushing on when Aria doesn’t respond. “How do you know Nash anyway?”

  “Oh, you know. From…around.”

  “Around where? He said he went to River Valley High School, not Bliss River.”

  Aria rubs the tops of her eyes. “It doesn’t matter, Lark, it was a long time ago. Before you were old enough to know about certain things that happened.”

  “Things like what?” I ask, my brow furrowing. This sounds more serious than a teenage romance gone awry.

  “Just…things,” Aria whispers. “Things I did. People I hurt without meaning to. All those kind of things.” Aria sighs again, and a tear slips quietly down her cheek.

  It’s the first time I’ve seen Aria cry since she and Felicity moved back to Bliss River.

  The very first, and it shouldn’t be, I suddenly realize.

  When your marriage falls apart and you’re suddenly a single mother, living with your parents, trying to support yourself and your baby on a pastry chef’s salary, you should be able to cry about it. At least once or twice. You should feel safe to break down in front of the people who understand how miserable you are to have seen your dreams die and the forever love someone promised you betrayed.

  I don’t know what drove Aria and Liam apart, but I’m willing to bet serious money it was Liam’s doing.

  Liam was the kind of guy who erected barriers between Aria and anything he feared would distract her focus from their relationship—including her work, friends, and family. He was selfish with her love, the total opposite of Mason.

  Mason was always an inclusive kind of boyfriend, the type my friends loved hanging out with and my parents flat out loved. When I’d come home, giddy with excitement over our engagement, my mom had burst into happy tears and my dad had been thrilled to finally, in his words, “have a son.”

  Aria deserves someone like that, a man who will make her life fuller and richer, not harder and lonelier. I hope someday I can help her find someone like that. Someone like Mason.

  And yes, Mason screwed up, too, but not like Liam. He wasn’t a serial liar or a cheat. He was a damaged soul who was afraid he didn’t have what it took to be a good husband. But instead of letting that fear drag him down, he’d fought back, getting the help he needed to learn to have faith in himself.

  And then he’d come home to fight for me. For us.

  I’m so proud of him, and so grateful we’re together again, that all the pain from the past feels like it happened in another lifetime.

  That’s the thing about being in love: it feels so good, you want everyone to have the same blissful experience, to soar on the wings of happiness and anticipation into the fluffy, pink clouds of happily ever after.

  Even after only a few days, you tend to forget the heartbreak, to block out the misery of being left alone and betrayed.

  You forget, until something—or someone—forces you to remember.

  “I guess I deserve this,” Aria says, more tears spilling from her eyes. “And Nash deserved a chance to kick me while I was down.”

  “No, Ra.�
� I sit down next to my sister, careful not to disturb the baby as I brush her hair from her face. “Whatever happened between you and Nash, you were only a kid. And as far as Liam is concerned, I don’t know what he did to make you leave, but I have no doubt that you did not deserve it.”

  Aria’s face crumples. “He was with someone else,” she whispers, swiping at her damp cheeks as she sits up. “While I was pregnant with Felicity.”

  “That bastard.” I curse softly. “You were always too good for him.”

  Aria was so in love with him, in a way she’s never been with anyone else. From the day they met three years ago, Aria hasn’t glanced at another guy. Her serial dating days were behind her the second she and Liam slam-danced into each other at a Violent Femmes tribute band show in Atlanta.

  He was her English, rock-n-roll dream come true.

  She was so gone on him that my parents, Melody, and I all did our best to put aside our distaste for the douchebag. Yes, the fact that he seemed to believe being a record producer and former member of a British boy band made him better than the hicks in Bliss River, Georgia, was annoying. But we believed he loved Aria, and that was enough to excuse a multitude of sins.

  But honestly no one is sad that Liam won’t be joining us for Christmas dinner this year.

  No one, except Aria.

  I grit my teeth and shake my head, holding back the much more colorful things I’d like to call Liam, wishing Nashville was closer so I could go punch the jerk in his pompous face.

  Or somewhere else…

  Somewhere more befitting his crime.

  “He promised he was going to end it, and I think he did,” Aria says. “But right after Felicity was born, he started up again. With someone else.”

  “I’m going to kill him,” I say, rubbing Aria’s back. “Slowly. With whatever weapon will hurt the most. A fork. Or a toothpick. Ten thousand paper cuts.”

  “He’s not worth it.” Aria lets out a bitter laugh-sniff. “After I found out about the second woman, I did a little snooping… He’d been cheating the entire time we were together. With Becky who worked publicity at the record label, and then with some barely legal girl in that British girl band he was helping put together when we first met.” Her head bows and her shoulders shudder. “He was making a fool of me the whole time.”

 

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