My eyes zipped to his. “What?”
Aiden’s gaze was steady, searching. He didn’t repeat the question. Not to be rude or intimidating, but because we both knew that I’d understood him perfectly.
“I,” my voice faltered, and I shook my head. Try, Isabel. “Change is hard for me,” I forced out. Pushing aside all butterflies, all off-kilter feelings with a sweep of my hand, I dug past the embarrassment and found a kernel of truth. “I still don’t know what your presence here means,” I told him.
Handing him that piece of truth, even if I had no clue exactly what it meant, was like tugging out a part of my body. But his reaction … I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make it just a little less painful.
The way he watched me talk without ever rushing or pushing me helped loosen something tight and uncomfortable behind my ribs.
Aiden tucked his hands into the front pockets of his dark jeans. “How about this,” he said slowly. “I promise I won’t make any big changes without discussing it with you first. New name aside,” he added.
My heart hammered. He wasn’t required to do that. And his approach—the calm, the steady—wasn’t something I expected.
“You don’t have to do that,” I told him. “This is your place, not mine.”
A few people walked in—lawyers from a local firm—and effusively loud greetings came my way as they entered. I waved.
“You sure about that?” he asked dryly.
I hid a pleased smile. Just barely. It’d felt like my place since the first day I walked in.
“All the same.” I kept my reply even, professional. “It’s your name on the building, or it will be soon enough. You can make your mark on it without my say-so.”
After I said the words, I wanted to take them back. Or for a moment, I did. Because I’d known so many athletes, ego-driven, prideful, who preened obnoxiously under any spotlight they were given. And still, I wasn’t entirely sure how this particular former athlete would respond.
“All the same,” he responded. “I want you to trust me, Ward.”
My eyes could hardly meet his, not with the way he said my last name. If he looked hard enough, he’d see goosebumps rise along my bare arms. The impulse to smooth them down with the palm of my hand was almost impossible to ignore. Before I could react, Anya popped her head out of his office.
“Daddy, my iPad froze. Can you help me?”
With a slight lift of his chin, he walked toward his office, and I breathed out slowly, my cheeks puffing with the loaded exhale.
Back to work. It was the only way I’d survive it.
Soon enough, as I’d told him, the building would bear his name, and the thought had me wandering to the front area.
As I faced the shelves of merchandise by the desk, I thought about what the hell we were supposed to do with all the stuff labeled Wilson’s Gym when I knew Aiden had already ordered the new signage to make the switch to Hennessy’s. Fortunately, he wasn’t champing at the bit to slap his name over everything. He wanted to handle the transition publicly in a way that was smooth. Staring at the racks of T-shirts, sweatshirts, wraps, gloves, all of it, I started thinking through ways to clear the inventory as quickly as possible.
I took a seat at the front desk and yanked open the bottom right drawer.
“There you are,” I murmured, tugging on a clear container that held bright-colored round stickers. I eyed the racks of shirts and wondered if Aiden would have an opinion on starting with half off everything or maybe a BOGO sale to see how much we could move.
There it was again, the pause in my entire body when I thought about going to his office to ask him.
This was ridiculous.
I set my elbows on the desk and covered my face with a groan. While I sat in that dejected position, the gym phone rang. I picked it up, but before I could say anything, I heard Aiden’s voice coming through the handset in his office.
“Wilson’s Gym, this is Aiden.”
Gawd, his voice. I rolled my lips between my teeth and allowed, just for one moment, my eyes to fall closed so I could just … listen to him speak.
“Mr. Hennessy, this is Chandra at the Seattle Youth Sports Foundation. Thank you so much for your call. We were thrilled to receive it.”
Slowly, I started setting down the phone even though there was a nagging, naughty whisper in the back of my mind that wanted me to keep listening. Because the way he formed words, the way something simple and innocent came out of his mouth, had me picturing him behind me, whispering in my ear. Things I’d never imagined someone telling me to do.
If I were to text Amy where she was currently exploring Greece, I didn’t think this was the kind of trying she’d had in mind.
The front door opened just as I had the phone set back down on the receiver, revealing the smiling face of our newest college hire.
“Emily, how’s it going?”
When she sucked in a deep breath, I knew the answer was going to be very, very dramatic. The word vomit started immediately about her boyfriend and another girl, and I’m sure my eyes were so wide in my face that it looked like I’d just been smacked over the back of the head.
“So, you’re stressed then,” I said when she finally took a breath.
Emily plopped into the chair that I’d vacated behind the front desk. “I just know he’s cheating on me.”
Early arrivals for my six o’clock class started filtering through the front door, and I greeted them with a smile.
“But you can’t be sure,” I told her. “You just suspect based on a couple of … vibes, right?”
My sisters always came to me for no-nonsense relationship advice, and honestly, sometimes I thought my ability to be no-nonsense was because I’d never gotten myself tangled up in any of the dramatics. Or any body parts, really.
Vibes had never been my forte, or at least … not until Aiden walked through the door. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I was creating all sorts of those in my own imagination.
Emily paused to swipe a member’s card as he struggled to check in with the scanner on the desk. He thanked her with a smile, nodding to me as he passed. I pulled my favorite black and pink wraps from the top drawer and unraveled the tightly wrapped ball.
“They were strong, though,” she said, leaning against the desk. “Heavy eye contact.”
Yeah. Heavy eye contact. I shifted uncomfortably. “What else?”
Emily hummed. “Really loaded subtext in the things they said.” Her face got serious. “They were saying one thing, but you knew they meant something else.”
“And that’s a sign of …?” My voice trailed off.
“Sex, for sure.”
Sweat popped along the back of my neck because check, check, and check. One-sided vibe, courtesy of me.
Someone else walked in, and I stifled a groan at the sight of him. I know, customer service and all, but this guy was the bane of every female trainer’s existence. He stood too close, talked too much, stayed after class too late, and had a seriously annoying tendency to stare at either our tits or ass through the entire class.
Talk about getting a vibe from someone. This guy was the absolute king of inspiring douchebag feelings.
“Mike,” I said politely. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
He slicked his tongue over his teeth. “Where’s Kelly? I didn’t know you were teaching tonight.”
Not surprising. Mike did not seem to stay too late or talk too close with me. He favored Kelly, probably because she was petite, and he could stare down at her chest from his lofty five-foot-six.
Also, Kelly was friendlier than me.
In her absence, he did a thorough examination of the bubbly blond behind the desk. The way he looked Emily up and down had me clearing my throat. I held his gaze steadily when his attention was back on me.
“She hurt her ankle.” I continued wrapping my knuckles, angling the wraps around my wrist, and then back around my palm. Flexing my fingers, I gave him a tiny smile. �
��You’re stuck with me tonight.”
“You’re new,” he told Emily.
She gave him a friendly smile, but not quite as friendly as the one she’d given everyone else. Emily, apparently, was a very good reader of vibes and heavy eye contact. “Started a couple of weeks ago.”
He nodded. “Sweet. Another reason to love Tuesday nights.”
Because he wasn’t looking, I rolled my eyes. “You better go stretch, Mike. I have my angry rock playlist, which means you need to be all warmed up and ready to get your ass kicked.”
He snorted as he walked past, and I had to grit my teeth.
Someone was going to get a lot of extra burpees tonight, and it wasn’t me. As the manager, I might not be able to be outright rude to him, but I could make him curse the day he was born.
Emily shook her head. “So creepy.”
I finished wrapping my other hand and sighed. “He is. Unfortunately, he’s never done anything blatant that would get him kicked out. Next week, if you’re here with Kelly, and he’s the only one left, don’t leave until she does. That’s one of our unspoken rules. No female trainer here alone with someone new, or someone like jackass over there who’s just kinda slimy. Got it?”
She nodded. “Got it. Thanks, Iz.”
I picked up my bottle of water and tipped it back to take a drink. That was when I saw her eyes widen again and her back straighten. Mid-swallow of cold water was when he decided to speak from right behind me.
“I hope that rule applies to you, too,” Aiden grumbled.
The choke came first, and I slapped a hand over my mouth, but in the process, I tried to exhale.
Which brought water right up my fucking nose.
The cringe on Emily’s face was more than enough for me to know just how mortifying I must have looked, but when she carefully handed me a towel to wipe my face, I knew it was bad.
“Sorry,” he said. “I seem to have a bad habit of taking you by surprise.”
No shit, Sherlock.
I finished wiping my face and glanced at Aiden. “It’s f-fine.”
He watched me set the bottle and the towel down, and when his gaze returned to my face, I saw the slightest hint of amusement.
And that did nothing to lessen my abject humiliation at how stupid and silly I felt around this man.
I took a deep breath and faced him. “Does what rule apply to me?”
He tilted his head to where Mike was stretching out his arms in front of his bag. “What you just told Emily.”
“Most of the time,” I answered honestly. “But Mike doesn’t bother me.”
“Yet.”
I nodded in concession. “Yet.”
“I can revoke his membership if the trainers are uncomfortable around him.”
My eyebrows lifted slowly. “Even if he hasn’t done anything other than being a creep?”
“Even if.”
His brusquely spoken words did nothing to soothe my feathers that seemed to naturally ruffle in his presence. If anything, they made it so much worse. Something about our exchange earlier, the bag, the daughter, the way he came at me head-on. Aiden made me feel like I was all raw, exposed edges, and there was nothing that I hated more. I turned away briefly to grab the microphone battery pack, hook it onto the back of my leggings, and then attach the earpiece around my ear so the mic was in front of my mouth. I made sure it was switched off before I spoke.
“I’ll let you know if it gets to that point.”
Aiden clenched his jaw. “Okay.”
Oh, look at that. I managed one whole conversation with him, and the worst thing that happened was spitting water out of my nose. Things were looking up.
“Did you need something?” I asked.
He glanced over at the racks of merchandise. “New merch should be here in about two weeks.”
“I can have Emily mark this stuff down to half off if you want to move it fast.”
But Aiden shook his head. “Just box it all up.”
“Don’t you want to try to sell it?”
He handed me a slip of paper, and along the top, I saw the logo for the Seattle Youth Sports Foundation. “I’d rather just donate it. They’ll disperse it to various foundations across the state for underprivileged kids. They need the equipment more than I need the money.”
For a moment, I stared at him. The hard line of his profile and the slight bunching of smile lines that fanned along his eyes. Honestly, screw Aiden Hennessy and his big heart and protective gestures and cute daughter and biceps that were the size of my head. This was about to get ridiculous.
“If that’s okay with you,” he said lightly.
Holding his eyes to gauge his sincerity, I found nothing to make me doubt what he was saying. Finally, I nodded.
As I took the paper from his outstretched hand and he walked away after a murmured thanks, I knew if I stayed in this headspace for another week, I’d be head over heels in love with my boss.
I couldn’t predict what he was going to do, what he was going to say, and I found myself waiting with bated breath for whatever came next.
He was locked away in a box of his own, and for the first time, I was the one wanting to dig my fingers in and pry off the top.
Chapter Six
Aiden
“What’s your problem?”
I blinked, glancing over at Clark. He was sitting at my desk, sketching out an idea for adding an open loft space over the main workout area.
“I don’t have a problem.”
Which wasn’t a lie because it wasn’t the right word.
“You look like you have a problem,” he said, pencil flying steadily over his graph paper.
“Why do my little brothers always ask me that when I’m trying to think?”
Clark didn’t hesitate. “Maybe because you look perpetually pissed off when you’re thinking too hard.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I turned my attention back toward the middle of the gym where Isabel was leading a class.
She moved in and out of the bags, shouting encouragement and occasionally stopping to help someone. Her hair, as always, was slicked off her face, and when she dropped to the floor to demonstrate something she wanted, it was long enough over her shoulder that it almost brushed the floor.
Wonder Woman, Anya had called her. And she’d asked her if she liked to sing. I knew she was thinking about that fucking list the moment she said that.
“You’re doing it again.”
This time, I didn’t look at Clark. “Can’t figure out my manager.”
In my peripheral vision, I saw his pencil slow, stop, and then start again. He always thought best when he was either drawing or building. “Why not?”
“I can’t get a read on her,” I said slowly. “But I feel like she’s … uncomfortable around me.”
Clark stopped drawing, spinning in my desk chair until he faced me. “She do a good job?”
“Yeah.”
As it always seemed to, without my permission and without any approval or forethought, my attention strayed to her. She was an irritation under my skin, not because of anything particularly vexing but simply because I felt like she was hiding something. Hiding herself.
And I didn’t like how that felt.
Because it lit the fuse on an urge that I’d long since buried.
Interest.
Everyone else at the gym had made a concerted effort to seek me out and get to know me. And it was the exact opposite with her. Maybe that was why I found my gaze drawn to her.
The softness she’d shown my daughter was the most disconcerting of all. Before that, all I’d seen of Isabel were shifting pieces that I couldn’t pinpoint, like she was standing in front of a fun-house mirror.
Clumsy one moment, graceful the next.
Impenetrable with a client, blushing in the next interaction.
Kind with the employees, refusing my kindness in turn.
Warm with those who knew her, candidly wary with me.
&nbs
p; She was beautiful, as my daughter had said. Rarely smiled, rarely laughed. Not that I’d seen yet.
And I hated, more than I could’ve put into words, that I wanted to figure her out.
Hated that I’d checked her employee file, musing uncomfortably over the fact that she was a decade younger than I was yet seemed so much older than her age.
None of those things would I verbalize to my brother, who was already watching me with that analytical brain of his. I’d probably said too much as it was.
Because the second I saw her making Anya laugh, the second I watched them interact, the very first thing in my mind was absolutely terrifying:
Not this one. It can’t be her.
For a host of reasons. Too many to count.
Before I knew what Anya had asked her, I’d mentally cataloged each piece of Isabel that I knew. When she came up as the opposite of each thing Beth had listed to our daughter a million hours earlier, I felt the impact of it like a blow.
Disappointment.
“Aiden?” Clark asked.
“Forget I said anything,” I murmured. “I’ll get over it.”
I had to.
Chapter Seven
Isabel
“Could you possibly be more of a bitch?”
Not a single person at the table blinked when Molly glared at me. I smiled because surrounded by the sheer chaos of our family, I was in my happy place.
“Because of this?” I lifted my fork, each tine loaded to the edge with rotini noodles. My gaze stayed right on Molly as I sniffed deeply. “Mmmm, the sauce smells so good, doesn’t it?”
Her eyes narrowed. I shoved the entire bite in my mouth and groaned. Molly picked up her own fork and stabbed her salad like it was a teeny tiny Isabel voodoo doll.
My sister’s fiance, Noah, rubbed her back and set a small piece of bread onto her plate. “You can have some carbs, Molly.”
“Yeah, Molly,” I said, “you can have carbs.”
She threw the bread at me, and I caught it with a laugh.
Paige sighed. “Isabel, don’t poke the carb-deprived bear.”
Forbidden: A Ward Sisters Sisters Novel Page 6