by Lilly Wilde
*****
Standing over the kitchen island, my elbows rested on the counter as I massaged my temples, trying to persuade the headache to leave and go bother someone else.
“So your head’s still hurting?” Aiden asked, catching me by surprise as he stepped into the kitchen.
“Yes, but not much.”
“That’s three days, Aria,” he warned.
“I know. I know. But it’s better,” I assured him.
Aiden moved behind me and caressed my shoulders. “You have some serious knots. Why is that?” He very well knew the cause, just as he knew I didn’t want to admit it. “Are you planning to answer my question?”
“No,” I replied.
“Call someone,” he said, and walked out of the kitchen.
I knew what that meant. For days, he’d been chiding me for not hiring someone to help me out, but I’d refused. If I didn’t go along with his demand, he would soon take the decision out of my hands and do it his way. Damn. He frustrated the hell out of me. He was like an impatient child. If someone didn’t give him what he wanted, he just pushed until he got it.
As much as I tried to appear as though I had the Mrs. Aiden Raine thing under control, I didn’t, and I was quickly coming apart at the seams. And since Aiden had been watching me—like a freaking hawk—he knew I’d overcommitted myself and he didn’t like it. He’d started with a casual suggestion that I hire someone to help make things easier for me. Each day, his suggestion sounded more and more like an expectation, so thanks to his not-so-gentle prodding, I’d already met with Tristan Roberts for the positions of my publicist and personal assistant. He’d come highly recommended from Aiden’s publicist Benjamin. Not sure why Aiden and I didn’t both use, Benjamin; it all seemed too excessive, but oh well. I hadn’t offered Tristan a position yet, but I had his name locked and loaded for the next time Aiden pushed too hard in that direction.
As I was placing the last of Lyric’s food in the refrigerator, Aiden strolled back into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and poured some water and then stepped toward me with an open hand.
“Take these.”
He always looked out for me. Even when he knew I didn’t want him to. I reluctantly took the aspirin and then returned to the dishes. “Thank you,” I said.
“Come. Lie down with me.”
“I can’t right now,” I said. “I have too much to do.”
“It can wait.”
“Aiden, stop. I need to finish this, start the laundry, clean Lyric’s bathroom and start a grocery list … unless you want to starve.”
He looked at me and let out an impatient sigh. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
He was agitated, which meant it would be a lot easier to appease him than to continue with my own agenda. “Fine, but only for a little while.”
“Whatever you say,” he replied as he grasped my hand and tugged me behind him. Several minutes later, I was lying on Aiden’s chest as he toyed with my hair. “Is your headache gone?” he asked.
“For the most part,” I said.
“You can’t continue at this pace. You need someone to help you.”
“No, I can do it.”
“I don’t doubt that, but it’s not reasonable.”
“I can take care of my family, Aiden.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not disputing that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“The same thing I’ve always had to hammer in your head, you need time to enjoy your family.”
“I do that. Very much.”
“You’re stressing over things you shouldn’t,” he said.
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one failing.”
“Is that what you think? It’s impossible for you to fail at anything. Wait, I take that back. The only thing you’ve failed to do is listen.”
“I guess,” I said.
He kissed my hair. “Do you know how proud I am of you?”
“No.”
“Well, I am. This isn’t easy and you could have bowed out by now. Instead, you’re up extra early, going to bed late, running yourself ragged. It’s unnecessary.”
“You make it look so easy,” I said.
“I’ve been at this all my life. It’s the only frequency I know.”
I didn’t want to admit it aloud, but the realization that I couldn’t do it all on my own hit me hard. I wanted to be the dutiful wife and mother. I wanted to cook dinners and keep a clean house—things Mom used to do, but that was impossible with a house as large as ours and with schedules as full as ours. I actually did need the help, which is where Tristan would come in. I really liked him and since it was obvious I’d run out of stall tactics—and energy—I’d be reaching out to him … but not just yet.
My fingers trailed along Aiden’s chest as I took in his words. The more I watched him manage the demands on his time, the more I wondered how he ever kept it all straight, but then again, I had no idea of the amount of delegating his lifestyle required. He’d never really told me that much. He grasped my hand and toyed with my fingers, intertwining them with his.
“Why are you so quiet?” he asked.
“Just considering everything I need to keep straight,” I said.
He kissed my hair again. “You can do it. As soon as you stop being stubborn, you’ll have an entire team at your disposal,” he said, and then he fell silent.
“Why are you quiet now?” I asked.
“Can you believe we’re married?”
“Sometimes, yes. Most times, absolutely not.”
“Same here,” he said. “Do you still like your ring?”
“Of course,” I said, as we both stared at our linked fingers. “It’s beautiful.”
“Come here, you,” he said, pulling my body over his.
“Sweetie, I’m tired.”
He stared at me in shock. “But you’re never too tired for me.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” I said, and rolled over to the other side of the bed. “I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“Okay, that’s it.”
“What?”
He grabbed his phone and tapped a message.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Something I should have done long ago. Getting help for you.”
“So now you take it upon yourself to get involved.”
“I was already involved, but I was hoping I wouldn’t have to make this decision for you.”
I sat up in bed. “But because I’m too tired for sex, you’ve changed your mind?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s because you’re not yourself. And because I already know who you were planning to hire—Benjamin filled me in. I’ve checked him out, and he’s a solid choice.”
Why wasn’t I surprised? I didn’t have the energy to pitch a fit and, quite frankly, I was secretly relieved. I’d been so pre-occupied with getting it all right that I was going to bed exhausted every night. Today had been the record low, though—too tired to have sex with the only man I could never get enough of.
After a response to Aiden’s text, we were lying in bed again. I was content—my head resting on his chest as I traced my fingertips along the taut skin of his abs.
“How was the ballet?” I asked.
“I’m always amazed at Allie’s giftedness,” Aiden said of his sister. “She’s a natural. It was great. She was pretty bummed you weren’t there.”
“I know. I spoke with her afterwards,” I said. “But she understood one of us needed to be here for Dianna. Was Lyric a good boy?”
“For me, yes. As for my assistant Brooklyn—I think he tested her patience,” Aiden said. “His personality is starting to reveal itself more and more.”
“Yes, it is. And I can see the Aiden temperament in him,” I said, shaking my head.
“Like that’s a bad thing,” Aiden said.
“I think one of Tristan’s first assignments will be starting a search for another nanny. I understand better
now why you had two.”
“And here you thought it was because I was too much to handle.”
“Oh, I still think that. But not in Lyric’s case,” I said. “He’s the most perfect baby ever.”
“He is, huh?”
“Of course. But we may be a tad bit biased.”
“Yeah, just a tad.”
Not soon after Aiden and I settled in for the night, the shuffling and intermittent cries drifting from the baby monitor captured our attention. Hoping Lyric would settle back into a quiet sleep, we lay silently wrapped in a warm embrace. And when the sounds finally muted, Aiden kissed my forehead and said goodnight. Seconds later, the ear-piercing cries flying from the monitor had us both flipping back the sheets and hopping out of bed.
Reaching Lyric’s nursery, we found him standing in the crib, his chubby fingers curved over the thick wooden edge of his bed, and crying at the top of his lungs.
“Was he like this all evening?” I asked Aiden as I lifted the baby to my shoulder.
“Off and on,” Aiden said.
Fifteen minutes and a new headache later, Lyric was still fussy. Aiden had been right. My little guy was Mr. Cranky Pants. No matter what I did, he wouldn’t stop crying. We thought maybe he had a tummy ache. Aiden checked him out as well as he could, but he wasn’t concerned that anything was truly wrong. Just a cranky baby.
“Maybe I should take him for a drive,” Aiden suggested. “It seemed to work a few hours ago.”
“I’ll take him, or maybe we both can go.”
“No. You get some rest,” Aiden said. “Your day was just as bad as his.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?”
“Yeah. It’s more father-son time. I’ll never get enough of this guy,” Aiden said, taking Lyric from my arms.
“Well, okay. But if you need back-up, you know where to find me,” I said, turning to leave Aiden alone with his mini-him. Hopping back in bed, I slid beneath the covers. Sleep pulled me under in next to no time.
The next morning, I awoke to find both Aiden and Lyric asleep in the kitchen—Aiden at the table and Lyric in his booster seat.
*****
After only a few days, I saw the benefits of having hired Tristan. And never had I been more thankful for assistance. He worked with Andrea to coordinate my schedule, and we had meetings every other day. He was even working with Sienna and me on birthday plans for Lyric. It was almost incomprehensible that my little guy was turning one in a little over a month.
I was enjoying passing some things off to Tristan. It allowed me to avoid the almost daily contact with Aiden’s mother. Yes, she was still hard at it—trying to pull me over to her side of things. As if that would ever happen. But we were still getting along and it was feeling more and more like a family I wanted to be a part of.
As for my personal life, it seemed I needed staff for everyday things that I didn’t have the time to do. I didn’t know how I felt about that. Aiden was accustomed to having butlers and maids, but I wanted my privacy and I wanted to do things on my own—something I was finally learning was impossible. When I’d told Aiden I’d decided to add to the staff, he was very pleased, while I on the other hand saw it as something else I couldn’t get a handle on.
“Tristan’s already narrowed down the list,” I said, frowning at my tablet.
“Good. And don’t think of this as a failure.”
“I don’t. It’s just a little disheartening that I can’t be the wife and mother I want to be.”
“But you are,” he said. “You know that. Cooking and cleaning don’t make you any less in either area. You’re delegating, which is something I’ve had to do for as long as I can remember. Otherwise, I’d have no life at all.”
Chapter Two
“Blow out the candle, Lyric,” Aiden encouraged.
Much to the amusement of dozens of guests, for the last ten minutes, Aiden and I had been coaxing the most spoiled one-year-old in the world to blow out a single candle on his birthday cake. And after having demonstrated—at least ten times—how to extinguish the flame, I was losing my patience.
We figured Lyric didn’t quite understand the concept, so his father and I tried blowing air in his face, figuring he would do the same with the candle. Lyric just laughed and fanned his fingers over his eyes each time, and when presented with the cake, he did nothing but stare or grab at it. Even after several more repeated displays of blowing out the wick, our son still refused to mimic our actions. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He blew air—just not toward the candle.
“Let’s just help him,” I suggested, knowing full well Aiden wouldn’t agree, but still hoping he would.
“No. He can do it himself,” Aiden insisted.
I quietly surrendered to Aiden’s determination and joined in with the others, watching with hopeful eyes as father and son repeated the same scenario over and over. Three candles later, though, my impatience reared its ugly head again, but just as I was about to take the honor myself, our amazing little boy blew out his candle without any help from his parents.
His not-so-small feat was met with a round of applause. I wasn’t sure if the cheers were because they were thankful the wait was finally over, or because it was so cool to see Lyric’s success. And then there was Aiden—the picture of the proud dad. If he’d smiled any wider, his cheeks would have popped.
“I told you he could do it,” Aiden said, watching Lyric as the cake fell prey to his chubby little fingers.
“He’s a Raine. He can do anything,” Connor chimed in with an air of superiority.
“Oh, brother,” I said. “I’ll leave you three brilliant Raine men to yourselves.”
“Make that four brilliant Raine men,” Nicholas said, as he joined his father, brother and nephew.
Shaking my head and laughing, I rolled my eyes at Nicholas and headed to the kitchen to check on cake number two—the one Lyric wasn’t allowed to play with.
*****
The rear of our property had been transformed into a world of make-believe. It was a magical land of fictional characters and daydreams—complete with a petting zoo, amusement rides, a disc jockey, over-sized toys, and an endless array of games and laughter … a lot of laughter. Photographers had become one of the unwanted accessories to my life, but today I didn’t mind posing for the countless family photographs that would add yet another page to the beautiful story which my life had become. I couldn’t take all of the credit—hell, I could hardly take any of it. Sienna and Tristan had spearheaded the effort; the majority of my input had been a nod of approval here and there.
A smile touched my heart as I scanned the gathering of family and friends. The warm air surrounded us, and rays of sunlight spilled from the spaces between the puffy clouds of the sapphire blue sky. Sighing happily, I watched the group of kids on the merry-go-round as a light breeze fluttered the leaves of the two large elms beside it. Two birds that had been perched in one of the trees took flight, their figures casting dark silhouettes against the picture-perfect horizon.
The party was in full swing. I couldn’t tell who was enjoying themselves more—the kids or the adults. My best friend April, her boyfriend Blaine, and my sort-of ex-boyfriend Kellan had arrived before most of the guests. I’d known early on that Kellan was expected, but I hadn’t bothered to mention it to Aiden. Who needed that type of tension on a day as special as this one?
Aiden’s older siblings Sloan and Nicholas arrived together, having just returned from a week-long business trip in Japan. Sloan, who was now dating Kellan, immediately rushed to his side and they greeted each other, both smiling and both lit up like Christmas trees.
My twin sisters Lia and Bianca were also in attendance; they’d actually slept over the night before. Raina, my former executive assistant, and her family had arrived about the same time as Bianca’s boyfriend Landon. I’d even invited my assistant Andrea, since her sister had three younger children who I knew would get a kick out of such a grand party.
I wondered if this party resembled the birthdays of Aiden’s youth. Based on the stories he’d previously shared with me, I could already determine the answer. I wouldn’t ask him about that today … maybe not even tomorrow. I smiled as I looked at the child-like expression on my husband’s face. He was sitting at one of the booths having his face painted. He was happily immersed in every part of the day. I made sure the photographer grabbed a few of those shots.
My own childhood parties certainly didn’t mirror this one. They were happy times, at least the ones I remembered before Dad left. But they were never on a scale as splendid as this. I hoped all of Lyric’s milestones were filled with the same abundance of love and happiness … and family.
A while later, a few of us were inside the house having cake when Aiden stepped into the room. I followed his gaze and squirmed when his eyes rested on his sister and Kellan. He started toward them, and so did I, hoping to cut him off, but I reached them just as he did.
“Sloan. A word.”
She turned toward her brother and Aiden ushered her away from the group.
I followed them into the hallway, hoping to squash anything before it started. “Aiden, don’t do this.”
“And if I do?”
“It will really hurt me, and I know you don’t choose to do that,” I said.
He held my gaze, the stubbornness in his expression morphing into a forced surrender. Breaking our standoff, he turned and walked down the hall—in the opposite direction of our guests.
“Now he’s going to come up with some other way to make me end it,” Sloan said.
“He won’t. I won’t let him.”
“Why does he behave this way?”
“He’s trying to protect you, Sloan.”
“From what? I don’t need his damn protection.”
“Go back and join the others while I talk him down.”
“Thanks, Aria,” she said and pulled me into a hug.
“No problem.”
