Finally More: The Evermore Series Book 5
Page 9
I arrive at The Pines as lunch is being served, but head to Grandad’s room to see if he’s still there. He’s sitting in the padded chair next the window.
“Hi, are you ready for lunch?” I ask in my best attempt at a happy voice.
He looks around at me, but his eyes pass right through me. He doesn’t answer and turns his head away. My heart sinks, and the frustration from earlier returns ten-fold. “Grandad?”
I’m greeted by silence and take a few deep breaths to gain control of my burning emotions. “Grandad?” I try again. I walk toward him and kneel by his side. “Hi, Grandad. Do you want me to take you to get some lunch?”
“Lunch?”
“Yes, lunch.”
“I’ve just had lunch. I don’t want more.”
“Are you sure? I think they were getting ready to serve as I came in.”
“I don’t want lunch again. Leave me in peace. All these people fussing. Leave me alone.”
“Grandad…”
“Who am I? I’m not a Grandad, and I don’t remember your name. Have you been here long?”
“I’m your grandson, Aiden. I visit you here every day.”
“Nonsense. I’ve not seen you here. There was a nice young lady here before you. Never seen her before, either. Don’t know why you don’t just keep to your own business and leave me.”
I stand and walk out of his room. He’s much calmer than he was yesterday, but his memory certainly hasn’t improved.
Natasha’s words from this morning seep in, but I find it hard to take comfort in them. This morning I would have made sure I’d see Natasha again today. But I know my mood will be just as bad as it was yesterday. I have an appointment with Kassey later this evening for another sitting. I’d concentrate on that and ignore everything else. I can start again tomorrow.
Tomorrow will be better.
I am surprised not to see Aiden at The Pines. After we’d left this morning, I miss the closeness we shared last night. It’s new for me to feel this way. Usually, I’d focus on a particular scene, and once it ended, much of the emotions associated with it faded. Not this morning.
Aiden and I didn’t have a scene last night. I may have played with him and tested some of his initial thoughts on the idea of dominance, but I’d had no script or plan. It brought life to us and a spontaneity that I hadn’t felt in such a long time. I’m starting to realise something might have been missing for quite a while with my past partners.
I check in to see Peter before I leave, hoping that I may have just missed Aiden. His room is quiet, and Peter is in the identical chair to my mother’s, looking out the window. “Hi, Peter.” He doesn’t respond, so I step in and make myself visible. “Hi,” I try again. He bobs his head up from resting his chin on his chest to take a quick glance before dropping it back down. This isn’t the spritely man I’d met and played chess with in the past and can see why Aiden struggles with it.
I leave Peter in peace, not wanting to agitate him, and sign out.
Before I put the key in the ignition, I fire off a message to Aiden.
Missed you today. Catch up with you during the week?
I don’t hear back from Aiden for the rest of the day. It shouldn’t bother me. We’re not a couple, but his silence annoys me. I try to tap down the emotions that have snuck up on me with this man. My concerns aren’t solely personal though. Aiden must have come to visit his grandad and been affected by what he experienced, especially after how he’d already been feeling.
I want to help and be available for him. I run those words around in my head for a few minutes. It’s a natural reaction. He’s my friend. Before last night, I’d have wanted the same thing—to make sure he was all right. The sex clouds those feelings and makes them more complex. More potent.
I’m sorry I missed you. Not a great day, and I had an appointment to keep. I’ll see you on Tuesday. Aiden
* * *
On Tuesday, I arrive later than hoped to visit Mum. A valuation arrived late in the office, and the traffic leaving Bath wasn’t shifting. My impatience with the slow-moving car in front reached an all-time high, and even the fresh coffee in my hand couldn’t calm my frayed nerves. By the time I reach The Pines, I want to throttle someone. Not the best mood to be in to visit Mum.
I storm my way through the halls and check Mum’s room. She isn’t there, so I go in search. I find her in the main social room, chatting to the Franks. I hover at the entry, not wanting to disturb. Mum is smiling and talking like she would at any other time in her life.
Her visitors give me the time to collect my temper and see if Aiden is still here. I don’t see Peter in the social room, so head to the library. It’s empty, and I can’t mask the disappointment that snakes into the pit of my stomach at not seeing him again.
My mood takes another blow, and I go back to Mum. She’s still with the Franks, although Mr Frank doesn’t look entertained. I head over and perch on the small foot stool next to Mum’s chair. “Hi, nice to see you both.”
“You too, Natasha.” Mrs Frank gives me a warm, open smile.
“Hi, Mum. Sorry, I’m late.”
“No, bother, dear. I know you’re busy.”
“I’m not in the office on Thursday, so I’ll have more time.”
“Natasha, it’s fine. I’m not here on my own, and I know you visit as much as possible.” My mum is having a great few days. She seems like her old self again. Or at least she is with me. Guilt stabs me as the thought runs through my mind. Did I decide to move her here too soon?
“Mum, have you seen Aiden here today?”
“Aiden?”
“Yes, he’s Peter’s grandson. He’s here every day. You must remember?” I regret the words as soon as I utter them, but she doesn’t seem to have noticed my slip.
“Is he the young one?”
“That’s him.”
“Not today. Although I may be wrong.”
I nod and look around the room to see if I missed him, even though I know I’d have spotted him the moment he appeared.
Half an hour later I finish what was left of my luke-warm coffee and say good-bye. I want to see Aiden and know there’s no point in denying it. I scan the sign-in register in reception for his name and notice he’s been absent for the last two days. It’s not like him. He always visits.
Worry flashes through me. It shouldn’t, and my mood flares back to life at my inappropriate thoughts. Aiden isn’t mine to worry over. Not yet.
Like Sunday, I send a message to Aiden before I head back home.
Hope you’re ok? I notice you haven’t been at the pines. Can I help?
And the same as Sunday, I don’t hear back from Aiden until much later.
I’m fine. I’ve had some work to take care of. Thursday. Aiden
His message has me curious. I hadn’t asked much about Aiden and what he did for a living. I’d assumed he must have some casual job of sorts to fit around taking care of Peter. Perhaps I was wrong.
I have a difficult time focusing my mind for the next couple of days. This is becoming more than a mere frustration. I am efficient and thorough at work, but not currently. I had the quarterly accounts for both Solace and The Opal House to review before the management meetings scheduled over the coming week.
The bottom line figures look good. Both businesses are solid, and show little dramatic variance from month to month other than expected seasonal changes with the hotel.
It takes twice as long as usual to review and make my summary comments. Aiden has been the source of my distraction, and he’s affected me more than I care to admit. I can’t help thinking back to Seb when he first pursued Izzy. Of course, he didn’t confide in me until he was truly in love with her. Izzy knew she was submissive. Aiden doesn’t, or at least that’s what I’ve observed.
It’s an intriguing prospect, enlightening Aiden to my world, but one that could backfire and end up hurting us both. That was the last thing I want to see. Pain, I can inflict with a submissive’s permiss
ion. Actual harm is a line I make sure I never cross. I’d need to take things slowly and ensure expectations are clear.
And I am back to being a million miles away from the task at hand.
As more time passes, I become comfortable with the idea of Aiden in my world. I’d set out on a path, and the more time I dedicate to the scenario, the more I want it to work. Last week wouldn’t be a one-time thing with Aiden.
When my mind arrives at the conclusion, my heart jolts and a sense of exhilaration surges through my veins. It’s exciting, and the expectancy potent. This is the right decision. I know it in my bones.
Thursday takes too long to arrive.
Since deciding to pursue Aiden fully, something inside of me has shifted. My intent is clear, and it feels good.
I arrive at The Pines and scan down the sign-in register. Relief hits me as I spot Aiden’s name. My mum is my first port of call though, and I head along to her room. She’s reading a book in the chair. The evening is mild, and I wonder if she’s been out to the courtyard today.
“Hi, Mum. I wondered if you wanted to get some fresh air?”
“Hello, dear. Yes, that sounds nice. Do I need a jacket?”
“Probably. Shall I get you one?”
“I have the, the… the colour one, with pockets. The pretty colour.”
“Lilac?”
“Yes. Can you get me that one?” She eases from the chair, and I grab the light jacket from her wardrobe. I take her arm in mine, and we walk through to the small courtyard. A few rays of sun still hit the far corner, and we go in search of the sun’s warmth.
“Did you have a nice day?”
“Yes, the Franks came to visit. It was lovely to see them. You remember them, don’t you?”
“They visited again today?”
“Again? No, I haven’t seen them for weeks. They came today. At lunchtime. I don’t think Arthur was very interested. Probably wanted to get back to the farm.” I listen to Mum talk and choose not to interrupt. If she has her days muddled, who was I to challenge her.
She talks away about her conversation with Annie. She repeats part of the conversation, but I don’t worry. She’s happy and content. And as long as that’s the case, I don’t need to worry.
The sun hides behind the gathering clouds, and so we retreat inside.
I leave mum to her book and go in search of Peter or Aiden. I find them in the library room. Aiden’s face is solemn, and he’s sporting a scratchy beard. It would look sexy on him, if he wasn’t so sad.
Peter sits across from him. A few pieces moved on the drafts set in between them. I take a minute before entering. “Hey, you beating Aiden at drafts today, Peter?” I go and take a seat on the sofa next to where they’re playing.
“What?” Peter looks around to me, but his whole demeanor has shifted.
“Grandad, you remember Natasha? She played you at chess a little while ago. Her mother is Agatha.” Aiden explains, but the tension in his voice is clear. He sounds frustrated.
“Natasha?” Peter looks at me, but there’s no recollection in his eyes.
“It’s all right. I won’t disturb you. Do you want to come find me when you’re done? I’m going to see George for a coffee.”
Aiden nods and turns back to the game. My heart breaks to see him so dejected. All my usual rules scatter like leaves blown away in an autumn storm. I want to take Aiden’s burden and help him through this time.
I walk through to the kitchen area and greet George who’s cleaning up after dinner. “Hey, George. I know it’s late, but I was hoping you could make me a coffee.”
“If you bring me in some new beans next week, you know I’ll have you set.”
“It’s a deal. I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ll be just outside.”
“Sure.”
I go and find a spot on one of the sofa chairs next to the redundant drinks machine in the cafeteria area. Aiden trudges up and takes a seat next to me. He weaves his hand through mine and holds it in his lap. I let him.
“It’s been a shitty week.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?”
“No. I spoke to Maggie, and she said his behaviour isn’t unusual, it’s just we haven’t seen it in him before. It’s like he’s had a shift in his personality as well as his memory taking a hit.” He rubs the back of my hand with his thumb as he explains.
“What are you doing after here? Do you have a work thing again or plans?”
“Nothing.”
“I want you to come back to my house.” My request is earlier than I had originally thought. I take my hand from Aiden’s and go to retrieve my coffee from George. “Want a coffee?”
“Um, no thanks.” The stunned expression on Aiden’s face is a vast improvement from the grieved one a moment ago.
I grab the coffee, thank George, and return to Aiden. The rich aroma is like my own form of endorphins. I take a sip and make a silent sigh to myself. I don’t sit back down but stand over Aiden as he watches me stride toward him. His eyes hold a fraction of spark back in them. It feels like the weekend on repeat. Only this time I know Aiden will say yes to what I proposition. “No drinks tonight. Just my place.”
“What time?”
“You can follow me from here. You won’t need anything. Trust me.” Hell, he probably has no clue as to what he would or wouldn’t need for a night at my house. My conscience pipes up just as Aiden’s brows draw together. Not a good sign.
“Listen, I appreciate the offer, Natasha, but I don’t want to be a pity fuck. I’ve had a bad week. I don’t want you to feel like it’s your duty to cheer me up. I’m not your responsibility.”
“So, you don’t want to come back to my house?”
“Not if it’s because you feel sorry for me.”
“I do feel sorry for you, but that’s not the reason I invited you back.”
“Really? It’s a little hard to believe.” Aiden isn’t sitting anymore. His frown holds anger and frustration. Both I can work with.
“I enjoyed our time together. I alluded that there would be other times, but I also need to explain a few things to you first. This isn’t the place. My house is the place. If you want to come back, then do. But I’d never fuck someone out of pity. Whoever they are.” I square up to Aiden and make sure he can see just how serious I am.
He’s hurting now, so I won’t take his comment as a slight against me.
His eyes drift from my face down my body before jumping back up to hold my stare for a moment. They lower. He’s conflicted. I can read his eyes, and he’s fighting his desire and attraction versus his pride.
I close the distance between us and run my palm through his scratchy beard. “It suits you.” I kiss him. A full-hearted, passionate kiss to banish any thought that I’d only be interested in sleeping with him to make him feel better. I do want him to feel better, but that’s not my primary motive.
The kiss is over too soon. This isn’t the place to get locked in an embrace. I want privacy and time to explain some ground rules.
“Do you trust me?”
“Trust you? Yes. Why?”
“People toss the word trust around easily. Think hard about it. Do you believe you really trust me? Would you put yourself in a situation where you were cautious, but follow through because you knew I would never do anything to harm you?”
His eyebrows draw together, like he’s assessing the question. He takes a few moments to respond.
“Yes. I do.”
“Good. Trust is very important to me. I need you to put your trust in me.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“I can trust you, and I’ll come with you. What do you need to explain?”
“Not here.” I step away and take a mouthful of coffee. “I’ll go and say goodbye to Mum. Meet me in the car park in ten minutes.”
I start planning how much to tell Aiden as I walk out to meet him. The basics would be enough. For now. I wanted to nurture thi
s… relationship. The word jumbles around my head. I could classify my past partners. We entered a relationship that already had the elements defined. With Aiden, nothing is, and it’s both exciting and scary in equal measure.
“Okay, this isn’t how I had pictured your house.” Aiden follows me into the sitting room and through to the kitchen. The granite topped breakfast bar served as a natural partition.
“Weren’t expecting anything small and cosy?” I raise an arched brow at him.
“Honestly, no.”
“Don’t worry. Most people don’t either. Come.” I take his hand and lead him to the wooden staircase and upstairs. My bedroom is large—it had to be to fit my king-sized four poster bed. It’s one of my favourite pieces of furniture in the whole house. The warm cherry wood sets the tone of the entire room. Each corner of the bed is carved into a plinth shape that proves to be incredibly sturdy and useful. The arched headboard made the piece more masculine, but the light tones of the rest of the décor lift the room.
I focus on the words I need to make Aiden understand and put a halt on my rising lust. The kiss we share is all the spark I need.
“You may have picked up that I like things a certain way when we’re together. I like to be in charge. In control. I really like it when you do as I tell you.”
“Okay. You’re in charge. Worked for me the other night.” He’s eager to get back to the kissing, but I put the brakes on his keenness. Communication is crucial between a sub and Dominant. The quicker I ensure that foundation, the better.
“Good. I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t feel comfortable or happy with. That’s not the aim. I want you to enjoy being with me and what we do together.”