by Carrie Elks
She looked scared. But why? Did she think he was going to say anything about their past to this Nick guy?
A young boy ran up to her. Fresh faced and with a dark mop of hair covering his brow. Aiden could tell from the way he leaned against Brooke, his hand curled into hers, that the child was bashful.
“Hello, Brooke.” Aiden nodded. There wasn’t a cell in his body that didn’t feel awkward. Even his stance felt wrong, as though he was standing on a ship and could stumble to the side and fall into the ocean at any moment. He looked down at the kid again. He had her features, soft and expressive. Her hand fluttered up to her neck, and he noticed it was shaking.
“Aiden.” She was breathless. “It’s good to see you again.” Her free hand tightened around the boy’s palm. “This is Nick. Nick, this is Aiden, an old friend.”
The boy let go of his mother’s hand, and reached out for Aiden. “Hello, sir, it’s good to meet you.” His smile, when it appeared, was as expressive as Brooke’s.
“He’s your son?” he asked her.
Brooke nodded but said nothing.
“I didn’t know you had a son. You didn’t mention him at the resort.”
“I was too busy trying to save the dog,” she said, her voice low.
Aiden shook the little boy’s proferred hand, and the kid’s touch sent a shiver through him. “How old are you?” For one crazy moment, he imagined what he’d do if Nick was ten. The urge to laugh came over him. There was no possible way this kid could be his son.
But what if he was? What if?
“He’s eight.”
That was that. No possibility at all, even if his hair was as dark as Aiden’s. He tried to swallow down the feeling of disappointment he knew shouldn’t be there. It’s not as though he needed more complications in his life. Brooke had clearly moved on since he’d left, and so had he. “Is your husband here too?” he asked her, looking behind her shoulder.
“I don’t have a husband,” she said quickly, her gaze dropping to look at Nick’s head. Aiden got the message – don’t ask questions.
“Well, it’s good to see you both.” He breathed in, feeling the rush of air force its way past his tight chest. It really was good to see her. She was wearing her hair down, the silver-gold waves hanging past her shoulders. Though she’d applied light makeup, he could still see the line of freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose. God, he remembered those freckles, remembered tracing them with his finger. Not just the ones on her face, either.
“Okay, I think it’s time to put the steaks on the grill,” Lucas said, as the flames in the grill died down, leaving a shimmering heat in their wake. “Babe, can you bring the meat out from the refrigerator?” he asked his girlfriend, his eyes soft as he looked at her.
“Sure.” She glanced at Ally and Brooke. “You guys want to help me make the salads?” she asked them. “Nick, come in and grab a drink,” she suggested. “I have some sodas in here too.”
The three women headed into the house, closely followed by Brooke’s son. As Aiden watched them disappear through a door on the far side of the home, he lifted his bottle and took a big mouthful of beer.
For the second time in his life, it felt as though he’d been hit by a hurricane, threatening to break up everything he’d ever worked for.
Like last time, it’s name was Brooke Newton.
“Are you going to tell him about Nick?” Ember asked when the little boy had taken his soda and headed back outside to join the men. She was chopping up salad ingredients on the wooden counter in her small cottage kitchen, scraping them from the board into a huge glass bowl.
Ally reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of wine, pouring it into three glasses.
“Not for me,” Brooke said when she tried to pass one over. “I’m driving, remember?”
“I thought you might need it.” Ally’s eyes met hers. Her sympathetic look twisted Brooke’s gut.
“I do. But I can’t.” Brooke leaned on the counter, watching her friend work. “And yes, I guess I’ll have to tell him some time. First I need to figure out what to say.” She took a ragged breath in. “I’m scared,” she told her friends. “About what he’ll do if he knows the truth.”
Ally reached out and wrapped her hand around Brooke’s. “Of course you’re scared. It’s natural.” She twisted her lips, thinking for a moment. “Are you sure he needs to know?”
“Yeah, I really think he does. Even if he walks away, at least I’ll know I did the right thing. Part of me regrets never telling his mom when I had the chance. Did you know she died?”
“She did?” Ally was wide-eyed.
“Yeah. I didn’t know either until Aiden told me the other day.”
Ally squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, I know you were close to her for a while.”
“She was like a second mother.” More of a mother than her real one, truth be told. When she’d left town with her sons, it had been devastating. “I wish she’d met Nick before she died.” Brooke bit her lip. “I guess Aiden deserves to know.”
“Okay, so when are you going to do it?” Ember asked, whisking up a salad dressing in a small jug. “You want to talk to him now?”
“No!” Brooke replied. “Not today. Not with Nick here.” She swallowed hard, though her mouth was dry. “I’ll do it next week.”
“You’re so brave.”
“I don’t feel it.” Brooke took another sip of her coffee. “I feel scared and frightened. What if he freaks out at me?”
“You think he will?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him for ten years, I don’t know anything about him anymore.”
“Aiden was always one of the good ones,” Ally said softly. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Ember?” Lucas called into the cottage. “The steaks are ready. Can you bring out some plates.”
Ember looked up at them both, her eyes soft. “We should go back outside,” she said, “If you’re ready for it.”
“I’m ready,” Brooke said, her voice more resolute than she felt. “You bring the salad and I’ll bring the plates.”
Ember smiled. “Okay.”
6
Aiden raked his fingers through his hair, surveying the construction site. Dust danced through the air, a thin coating lining his jacket and hard hat, coloring everything the mellowest of yellows.
This was the slowest project he’d ever overseen. The site was a historical location – rather than a parcel of land they were building on from scratch – and it gave an added layer of complications. Well, more like six added layers, if he was honest. In trying to keep the renovations as close to the original resort as possible, they were having to source materials from locations they wouldn’t normally use, and employ artisans who would usually have a long waitlist. Thank God money talked – and Carter Leisure had enough of it.
“Hey,” Brecken Miller greeted him as soon as he walked into the trailers they’d shipped in and placed on the edge of the site. “Can I have a quick word?”
“Sure.” Aiden took his hat off, shaking the dust from his body. He’d long since given up wearing the suits that were his normal uniform when he was working out of LA. Instead, he wore dark tailored pants and a white shirt – sleeves rolled to counteract the constant beating of the sun.
He’d forgotten how warm it was this far south. It was coming back, as well as a whole host of memories he’d hoped he’d forgotten.
“The Spanish rooftiles have arrived,” Breck was telling him. “But half of them are cracked. They’re sending another shipment, but they won’t be arriving until late Friday night. Either we lay on some overtime for the weekend or the schedule will be put back a week. I’m sorry, man.” Breck sighed. “I know it’s not what you want to hear.”
“How many men do you need?”
“I’m thinking twenty. Eight hours each day should work. I’ll be on site to supervise them.”
“Okay, do it. But see if we can charge the suppliers for some of it. I
t’s their fuck up.”
“I will.” Breck slid his hard hat back over his dark hair. “I’ll call them now.” With a nod he was gone, and Aiden made his way across the main lobby of the office trailer to his office. His laptop was loaded with emails and messages he’d ignored while he’d been out on the site. He opened them up as he slid into his seat. It was already six o’clock – late enough that the rest of the office staff had left for the day. Even the construction vehicles were silent. As always, he would spend another hour or so here trying to play catch-up, replying to the accountants and marketing teams, and updating Old Man Carter on the progress they’d been making.
Avoiding going home where his mind would be too free to wander. Because there were some thoughts he’d been avoiding all week.
In the main lobby the buzzer vibrated, signaling somebody waiting at the site gate. Aiden frowned. They weren’t expecting any deliveries this late in the day, and any visitors had long since left for the evening. Pushing himself off his chair, he made his way in, leaning over to press the intercom.
“Hello?”
“My name’s Brooke Newton. I’m here to see Aiden Black.”
Aiden’s head snapped up as though she was standing in front of him. For a moment he considered telling her he wasn’t here. She wouldn’t know it was him, after all. But curiosity got the better of him. She hadn’t been far from his thoughts all week – at least when he’d allowed himself to acknowledge them. At night when he’d closed his eyes he’d pictured her standing against the backdrop of the beach, her silken blonde hair contrasted against the deep blue of the ocean, her eyes soft as she watched her son play.
Her son.
That had been a shock he hadn’t expected at all. In all his thoughts about returning home for the first time in a decade he’d imagined she might be married, but never that she’d have a kid. And yet a part of him had always known she’d make the perfect mother. She was always so caring, so protective, even as a child. The number of animals she’d saved from starving or nursed until they’d overcome an injury – they all added up to show her nurturing personality.
His mom had described her as steel wrapped in wool, and it was as good a description as any. She didn’t like hurting people, but if somebody else hurt them – she’d go in fighting.
Aiden pressed the intercom again, moistening his dry lips with the tip of his tongue. “Wait there. I’ll come and let you in.”
“Thank you.”
If she’d recognized his voice she didn’t let on. Grabbing his hard hat plus an extra for his visitor, Aiden glanced at himself in the rusty mirror affixed beside the door. His shirt was covered in dust, his pants wrinkled from a day working hard on the construction site. He had a fighter’s body, like his brother’s. Strong bones and even stronger muscles, bred from generations of men who punched their way through life.
It was a short walk from the construction offices to the gate. Keying the number into the pad, Aiden released the lock, pulling it open to see her standing right in front of the gate. Like the first time she came to the construction site, she was wearing scrubs – the green shapeless ones which somehow made her look more attractive than ever. He held the yellow hat to her and she took it, pulling it down firmly on her head.
“Sorry if I’m disturbing you. I probably should have called.” She shifted her feet and looked down. “But I stopped by on the off chance you’d still be here.
He stifled the urge to lift her face up so his eyes could catch hers. “You want to come over to the office? I can make you a cup of coffee. It’s not Déjà Brew standards,” he said, referring to the coffee shop on the beach, “but it’s passable.”
“Coffee sounds good. Thank you.”
He led the way back to the trailer. Brooke followed close behind him, her breathing soft as she trailed him up the metal steps. Once inside, he closed the door behind her and took off his hard hat, watching as she did the same. He hung them both up as she patted her hair absentmindedly.
“Sorry about the hat.” He gestured at her. “And for messing your hair up.”
“My hair’s already messed up. Dig in deep enough and you might find a few stray animals. I spend my life either washing it or tying it up. It drives my mom mad.”
He could imagine. Lillian Newton’s hair was never anything but immaculate. It never seemed to grow or change color, either. He couldn’t imagine her ever agreeing to wear a hard hat – not if it might push a strand out of place.
Thinking of Brooke’s parents left a bad taste in his mouth. He walked over to the coffee machine and poured them each a mug, topping it with cream and carrying them back to her. “White no sugar,” he said.
“You remembered.” She smiled.
Damn. He’d forgotten to ask.
“You want to sit down?” He gestured at the conference table in the middle of the room. It was covered with blueprints and delivery papers. Brooke nodded and slid into one of the chairs, cradling her coffee cup with her hands.
“How’s the dog you saved?” he asked her. “I meant to check with you over the weekend, but the party got so busy.”
“She’s fine. Not quite ready to be adopted out yet, but we’re working on her. She needs training first.” Brooke took a sip of coffee, her deep green eyes fixed on his.
“What happens if she doesn’t respond to training? Will you euthanize her?”
“No.” Brooke shook her head. “Definitely not. We don’t kill animals at the shelter. We save them.”
He should have known she would say that. “I feel like it’s our fault she’s homeless. Do you have a card? I’ll speak to the director about paying for the dog’s accommodation and vet bills.”
“You will?”
Aiden shrugged. “It’s the least I can do.”
Her gaze softened. “That’s very kind of you. The shelter always needs donations. Thank you.”
“No problem.”
She took another mouthful of coffee and swallowed it down hastily, before putting the cup on a small portion of the table not covered in paper. “Um, but that’s not why I came to speak with you.”
“It isn’t?”
She shook her head and took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. It reminded him of when she was a kid and went up against her parents. “There’s something else I need to talk with you about.”
This was the third time she’d been in his presence in ten days, and the impact he was having on her hadn’t lessened any. It only seemed to grow, coating her skin and pulling at her muscles, making her heart beat faster than was physically comfortable. She was a grown woman, a mother of an eight year old boy, and yet every time she saw him she felt like the seventeen-year-old girl she’d once been. Besotted and aching, wanting him to notice her. Hanging on to his every word.
He was silent as he sat on the plastic chair opposite hers, his long legs stretching beneath the table. Though his clothes were covered in construction dust, she could still tell from their cut how expensive they were. But it was his face that drew her in. The chiseled beauty of his youth had been replaced by a masculinity which made her chest tight. There was a strength to his roman nose and square jaw that she hadn’t seen a decade before. The teenager who had captured her thoughts as a young girl had become a man she couldn’t take her eyes off.
“I don’t know where to start,” she said softly. She’d been practicing this for days, thinking of the right words – the ones to explain everything and not cause him to hate her. But they didn’t exist. All that was left was the truth and it cut like a knife.
She wasn’t sure who was going to bleed more.
“The beginning is usually the best place.”
Looking up, her eyes met his again. Her stupid heart did a flutter. “You’re right,” she said, nodding her head. “But I’m not even sure where it began.” Dropping her face into the palm of her hands, she let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, this is so stupid. I’ve been thinking about talking to you all week, and here I am, behaving like a du
mbass.” She lifted her face up. “And I know you’re so busy. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
She sighed. “That’s what I do. Apologize to everybody. I guess that’s the way I was brought up.”
Aiden shifted in his seat again. “We’re all products of our childhood.” He put his own cup down on the table. “But sometimes we have to break out of it.”
“It’s hard to break out when everything you do is scrutinized. And every move you make is watched like a hawk.”
Aiden frowned. “Scrutinized by who?”
“My parents.”
“Are you still living at home?” he asked her. “You and Nick never moved out?”
She felt almost relieved at his question. At least she didn’t have to search around for her words. “We live in the bungalow out behind my parents’ place. The one beyond the pool. Do you remember it?”
Three lines appeared across his forehead, as though he was thinking hard. “The one they used for staff?”
She nodded. “It’s perfect for us. Once I finish my schooling, we’ll be able to stand on our own two feet.” Maybe if she talked for long enough she could ignore the elephant in the room.
“Are you studying to be a vet?” Aiden asked.
“Not quite. I’m training to be a veterinary technician. Like a nurse for animals. I couldn’t afford the schooling to be a real vet.”
“Your parents wouldn’t help you?”
She shook her head. “Not with the tuition fees, no. They don’t really want me to work with animals.” Her eyes met his again. It was crazy how often it was happening. And each time it did her whole body heated up. “It’s not their idea of what a Newton should do.”
Aiden’s face was impassive. “I guess not.”
“And there’s Nick. I want to finish up school sooner rather than later so I can get a job and we can move out and get on our own two feet. I don’t want to live at home forever.”
“He’s a nice kid. You must be very proud of him.”
