“Iz!” Emmett yelled from the ring. He’d stuck his body between the ropes and had his knees balancing on the lower one.
“Yeah?”
“Is that the guy Molly was teasing you about because you had his picture on your wall when you were little?”
My eyelids slammed shut, my heart actually stopped beating in my chest, and at that moment, I imagined just how possible it was to travel back in time and not turn on that fucking microwave.
When I opened my eyes, I glared at him so mightily that his mouth popped open. “Ohhh, is that the kind of embarrassing thing you didn’t want me to say? Sorry, Iz.” He hopped off the ropes and went back to running.
Like he hadn’t just embarrassed the ever-loving shit out of me.
I covered my mouth with one hand when I heard a sound of choked amusement behind me.
I wanted to die.
When I turned, Aiden was still leaning up against the door, but oh, I couldn’t believe it.
He was smiling at me.
This was no wide smile that showed all his teeth or made a surprise dimple appear on either side of his mouth. But it was so, so much worse. Because this smile absolutely devastated me.
I dropped my hand, pointing a finger at him. “It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” he teased.
Instead of answering him, I strode to my office, head held as high as I could manage when I wanted to crawl under my desk and hide.
With his eyes on me, I unlocked my office and started searching in the corner cabinet where I shoved all the shit I never felt like organizing. My mental peptalk while I ripped through boxes was something like, it’s fine. It’ll be fine. A poster is not a big deal, and he won’t care because he was a world-class athlete, so he probably won’t even really remember.
“Which poster?” he asked.
I straightened slowly, clutching a small box in my hands. He was behind me, perched on the edge of my desk.
“I don’t even really remember,” I answered, very easy breezy, I don’t have sex fantasies about you every day of the week. I swept a lock of hair behind my ear before I turned to face him. “I had a lot of athletes on my wall when I was younger.”
“Okay.” He didn’t believe me, but I couldn’t have cared less as long as he didn’t push it. My heart rate slowed a bit when he lifted his chin, eyes on the box in my hands. “What are you looking for?”
“Umm, a box of fuses.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“I … sort of blew one out at the house. Didn’t really feel like waiting for an electrician.”
Emmett ran into the office. “She exploded it trying to make us breakfast.”
Remember how much you love him, I chanted in my head.
“Did she?” Aiden asked.
“Yeah,” Emmett said. “Isabel sucks at cooking.”
Aiden smothered another smile.
“Okay,” I interjected. “That’s enough out of you, or you don’t get your screen time later.”
He sighed heavily. “Can Anya come over and play? I told her about the treehouse in the backyard, and she wants to see it.”
“Oh, umm”—I glanced at Aiden—“I don’t know if today is a good day. I have to get this fixed, and Mr. Hennessy is working.”
Aiden stood from the desk. “You’ve replaced fuses before?”
I slicked my tongue over my teeth. “Not exactly, but I can figure it out.”
“You know how many amps that box is for?”
Glancing down, I caught sight of the edge of the box. “Twenty.”
“And that’s the kind you need? If you replace the bad one with something that’s got too many amps, you’ll do even more damage to the wiring.”
My eyes narrowed slightly, and immediately, Aiden returned the look.
Something dangerous kindled like a lit match under my skin.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“I have a bunch of stuff in my truck, including some fifteen amp fuses,” he said. “I’d be happy to come over and do it. If it’s not the right one, I’ll run to the store.”
“Please say yes,” Emmett whispered. “I don’t want the house to explode. Mom and Dad would be so pissed at you.”
The only reason I had to say no was my pride, not to borrow trouble. Inviting him to our house felt very, very troublesome.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t a reason to say no. Not with this.
“I would appreciate your help,” I told him. “I’ll text you the address.”
He wasn’t smiling anymore, and it had no less of an effect on me when he jerked his chin in assent.
All of my moments alone with Aiden had been accidental. Until now.
Chapter Sixteen
Isabel
Emmett eyed my hands tapping frantically on the steering wheel.
“Not a word, punk.”
He rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”
I turned the wheel and pulled the car into the driveway of the house. “You mean like you weren’t going to say anything about having a poster of Aiden on my wall? I should take my twenty bucks back.”
Emmett sighed. “I have a poster of Noah on my wall, and you don’t see me going around calling people names if they tell him about it.” Then he shrugged. “I don’t understand why you’d be embarrassed about it. I’ll fight him if he makes fun of you.”
I smiled because as much as he drove me crazy, moments like this reminded me why I’d die for him so fast.
“You’re going to fight Aiden Hennessy?”
“Yeah. It’s not like he actually won the heavyweight title.” He puffed up his skinny chest. “Besides, I hear Mom say all the time that one good fit of righteous rage makes you stronger than someone twice your size.”
“Why is she telling you that?”
He thought about that. “One of my friends was getting bullied at school.”
“And she told you to attack them in a fit of righteous rage?” I asked, smiling widely.
Emmett shook his head. “No. But the house rule is you ask them to stop. If they don’t stop, you tell a teacher. If they still don’t stop, you punch ’em, and even if I get in trouble at school, I’ll never, ever get in trouble at home.” His eyes got wide. “She has a violent streak, though, you know?”
“Yes, she does.” I turned in his direction, carefully smoothing his hair back from his face. “Your hair is getting darker. Who said you’re allowed to start looking like a teenager?”
Emmett’s cheeks went pink. “How old do you think I look?”
“At least thirteen.”
He grinned widely, unbuckling his seat belt and tearing out of the car like I’d just handed him a check for a million dollars. “I’m gonna go make sure the treehouse is all cleaned up!” he yelled over his shoulder. I waved, slowly getting out of the car after he sprinted around the side of the house.
It was fine.
This was fine.
The kids would play outside while Aiden helped me fix the fuse. It would take two minutes, they’d be on their way, and I could go about my day relaxing with Emmett. I’d planned absolutely nothing, hence the pajama-chic look I’d thrown on.
I glanced down and groaned.
Without a bra.
If I hurried, I might have time. A glance down the street showed that it was empty, so I jogged into the house and fidgeted with the key in the front door. Just as I heard the turn of the deadbolt, the sound of Aiden’s truck came rumbling into the driveway. I allowed myself one brief fortifying exhale, then I slid the key out and turned, bracing my back against the door with a smile on my face.
Emmett must have heard the truck because he ran back around into the front yard, skidding to a halt when Aiden unfolded his great big body from the great big vehicle.
Would there ever be a time that seeing him wasn’t like a hole being punched through my chest?
He didn’t even have to do anything but get out of his truck, and I wanted to strip
naked, stretch over his body like a blanket, and kiss him until I saw stars. It was confusing. And annoying. And I was starting to have just a little sympathy for why my sisters had all been such headcases at one point over the past couple of years.
Aiden was wearing dark aviator frames that hid his eyes. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I knew he was staring at me as he waited for Anya to hop out of her booster seat. He opened the rear cab door of his truck and helped her down.
“Hi, Anya,” Emmett yelled like they hadn’t just seen each other.
“Hi!” She stopped in front of the house and stared up at the brick-front exterior. “You have a way bigger house than we do.”
Aiden rubbed the back of his neck, dropped his chin to his chest, and sighed audibly.
At least I wasn’t the only one with a filter-free chatterbox in this scenario.
I smiled at Anya. “Well, there were five of us when my brother bought the house. He had to have enough space for me and my three sisters. That’s a lot of bedrooms.”
Aiden lifted his head, and again, I got the feeling he was studying me.
Anya’s eyes got wide. “You lived with your brother? Cool.”
I nodded.
That was when my chatterbox nephew decided to interject. “Really, he’s her half-brother. They had the same dad. He had a heart attack. But when their mom left, my dad bought a bigger house so they could all live together.”
“Thank you, Emmett.” I sighed. Aiden’s mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “Anything else you want to share?” I asked the little person next to me.
“Yes.”
I gave him a look.
“Well, you asked!” He took a deep breath and turned to Aiden. “You shouldn’t feel too special that Iz had your picture on her wall when she was fifteen. She had a lot of people on her wall, and there was probably a whole section of athletes she didn’t like too, you know, just to remind her who they were.”
“Emmett,” I ground out, “stop talking.”
“Fine, geez,” he murmured.
I raked my fingers into my hair and blew out a breath. “Why don’t you show Anya either your video games or the backyard or … something.”
“The treehouse!” Anya yelled, then she looked up at Aiden. “Can I?”
He crouched down to her height, sliding off his sunglasses. “Yes, but you treat their things respectfully, and what’s the other rule?”
She sighed. “No climbing up too high.”
“Go ahead,” he said softly. He held out his fist, and she bumped it before running off with Emmett. They whooped and hollered like little savages, and I smiled as the sound disappeared into the backyard.
Aiden straightened.
And we were alone.
“I’ll grab the fuses I have,” he said. “Hopefully, one will work.”
With a nod, I watched him open a steel-plated toolbox in the bed of his truck. Watched the stretch of his back, the way the muscles in his arms bunched as he moved items that I couldn’t see. And his ass in the jeans he was wearing. I almost whimpered.
So yes, if I was guilty of anything, it was my complete physical objectification of this man. Yes, he was so much more than a beautiful body, but holy hell, his body was so, so nice to look at.
I wanted to do things to that body and let it do even more to me.
I opened the door when he reached the front step and followed him into the entryway. Head tipped, he took in the staircase curving up to the second floor, the wall of framed pictures that covered the wall leading to the kitchen, dining, and family room.
At the end of the display, there was one that made him pause—me, my sisters, and Emmett when Lia and Claire finished their undergrad. The twins in their cap and gown were flanked by Molly and me as Emmett stood front and center, sticking his tongue out at the camera.
“He’s your nephew, you said?”
“Yeah.” Then I laughed under my breath. “But sometimes it feels like he’s our little brother. We have a”—I paused—“unique family tree.”
He hummed. “All that teenage anger you mentioned.”
Slowly, I nodded. “Yeah.”
Aiden studied the line of pictures, and I wondered what he was thinking. His gaze landed on one of me, Logan, and Paige when I was sixteen.
“Your mom left the four of you.”
He stated it so simply, without any inflection, that it didn’t knock the breath out of me. Again, I nodded.
When he turned, his eyes held a dangerous edge. “I’d be pretty fucking angry too.”
My smile was wide, my laughter unexpected. But it felt really good. Aiden’s expression softened.
I stood next to him and looked at the picture. “That’s the anger you caught”—I glanced sideways at him—“a couple of weeks ago. My sister invited her to their wedding, and I … didn’t handle it well,” I said wryly. “Maybe I’m still not handling it well.”
Aiden watched me with heavy-lidded eyes. Something about my honesty seemed to affect him the most.
“So I don’t need to expect attacks like that often?” he asked. “I’ll keep my guard up if I should.”
“No,” I answered around a small smile. “You don’t.” At his nod, I breathed just a little easier. “I’ll show you where the utility closet is.”
I brushed past Aiden, my arm grazing his where my shirt had slid off my shoulder, and I felt the small touch down to my toes because his skin was warm and firm. As he followed me, he was quiet, but I got the sense he was studying our home. Studying me.
We passed the guest room and a bathroom, turning by the doorway that led to Logan’s office. Aiden paused, glancing inside. Over my shoulder, I saw him peering at the Washington Wolves paraphernalia lining the walls. Two framed jerseys hung centered over the couch along the back wall from Logan’s professional career and college. Photos of him and Paige, the sisters, and Emmett adorned the wall behind his desk. On the dark wood surface were two massive computer monitors and neat stacks of books and binders.
“No trophies out,” Aiden commented.
I smiled. “I think they’re in a box in the closet.”
His eyebrows popped up briefly. “Mine will probably end up there too. I can never figure out how to display them without seeming pompous.”
“The burden of greatness?” I teased lightly.
One edge of his mouth hooked up in a wry smile. “Something like that. I haven’t set up my home office yet.”
“Probably because you never leave the one at the gym,” I said.
His gaze moved from the office to my face. “If that’s not the pot calling the kettle black.”
“Touche.” I lifted my chin at a nondescript door. “Fuse box is in there. I can go check on the kids so I’m not in your hair.”
“Oh no, you’re going to help.” He was so nonchalant as he said it, opening the door and setting his toolbox down to hold it in place.
One of my eyebrows rose at the evenly spoken command. “Am I?”
He hit me with the full force of those eyes when he turned. “Yeah. Because if this ever happens again, you’ll know what to do.” Aiden jerked his head for me to join him in the utility room.
The small, not at all spacious utility room. The fuse box was on the middle of the wall, flanked on one side by the furnace, the water heater was in the corner, and on the opposite wall was some floor-to-ceiling metal shelving Logan had stacked with tools, light bulbs, and a bunch of other shit I’d never looked at.
All I knew now, as I stood next to Aiden, was that that shelving took up a shit ton of space in that room, and we were forced to stand with our arms brushing as he flipped open the door.
“It’s that one,” I told him.
He nodded. “Can you grab those two boxes on the top of the bag, the small red-handled voltage check next to them, and a flathead screwdriver? Please,” he added when I shot him a look.
Bending over to find the items he asked for, I couldn’t help my grin.
; When I handed him the fuse boxes, he started explaining what he was doing, checking the part numbers, and where to check that the main breaker was shut off. Then he unscrewed the cover and set it on the ground by his feet.
“You still have power coming through,” he said, pointing for me to hold the gauge just beyond the wires to see how it lit up. “Now that we know the circuit breakers I had match up, we can replace the old one. But we have to turn off the main breaker first, so go ahead and turn on the flashlight on your phone. There’s not enough natural light in the hallway to be able to see.”
Yes, please, I thought. Just what I need. To stand side by side with Aiden in a dark closet. In a house by ourselves.
It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if he could hear my heart hammering behind my rib cage. After all, the only thing covering it was one thin layer of white cotton and the flimsy protection of my skin, which hummed like a live wire at his nearness.
If someone held that voltage checker in the scant space separating our bodies, it would have lit up like the Fourth of freaking July.
Aiden flipped the main power off, and we were plunged into darkness.
I let out an audible breath as he shifted slightly, the skin of his arm brushing my shoulder. He smelled like a soapy pine forest which sounded so much less sexy than it smelled. I wanted to crush that scent into crystals and snort it.
“Can you, uh”—he paused—“the flashlight?”
“Right,” I exhaled. I pulled my phone from where it was tucked into the pocket of my joggers, almost dropping it when my hands shook a little.
The light was garish and harsh, and when I glanced up at him, a muscle tightened ominously in his jaw as his eyes were straightforward on the fuse box.
“See that screw there on the far right of the blown fuse?”
I moved the flashlight but had to shift closer to get a clear view of it. “Mm-hmm.”
“That’s what you unscrew to remove the wire,” he explained. “Do you have the flathead?”
Forbidden: A Ward Sisters Sisters Novel Page 15