He reaches out and grips my arm. “Let me walk you in. I don’t want your parents to think I just dumped you and took off.”
I laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as forced as it feels. There is no way I want him running into my parents. I don’t want them accidentally blurting something out, even though there’s no reason they would. You have to worry about that kind of stuff when you’re living a lie, though. Little things tripping you up. “We’re not in high school, babe. You don’t have to shake my father’s hand and promise him that you didn’t go past first base last night.” Wiggling my brows, I add, “Because we both know you hit a homer to right field and slid into the plate.”
He throws back his head and chuckles. God, I love this Aidan. He’s so flipping sexy like this. I feel ridiculously pleased with myself that I’m the one who’s managed to chase some of the shadows from those beautiful blue eyes. I can’t stand the thought of them returning, as they inevitably will. After all, he just buried his mother yesterday. He’s a long way from carefree. “I like the dirty baseball references, princess. They make my dick hard.” Shaking his head, he murmurs, “Of course, just being in the same zip code with you makes me that way.”
I put my hand over his zipper and feel the truth in his words. “You’ve certainly got a problem there, slugger. Maybe we can get in some batting practice later. You know—help you improve that swing and all.” I giggle at his indignant expression. Men and their fragile egos. One word about their performance and they’re sulking.
I have my door open, and I’m giving him my best angelic smile when he says, “You’d better take it easy today, sweetheart. Tonight, I’ll hit a fastball right down the centerline. I can’t be responsible for what happens if you fail to field it.” My knees squeeze together as his words have their desired effect on me. Naturally, he doesn’t miss it, and I swear his ego is so damn big I’m surprised it fits in the car. “If you’re a good girl, princess, I’ll take care of that for you later on. Now close the door and your mouth so I can leave. Otherwise, I’m walking you to the door and telling your daddy what a bad girl you’ve been.”
I slam the door so hard the car rocks. Then I move quickly down the walkway and ring the doorbell since I don’t have my house key with me. A quick glance over my shoulder has me sagging in relief when I see Aidan pulling back out onto the main road. I swear the bastard loves to see me squirm. I can only imagine how uncomfortable he may feel spending just five minutes with my parents. Tons of double-entendre might fly over my mother’s head but would likely register with my father eventually. He prides himself on maintaining his street lingo for some reason. I know that he and my uncle Lee basically raised themselves and lived a life that he’ll never fully reveal to his children. I don’t know if my mother even knows the whole story. I’ve heard enough rumors to know that my uncle is a powerful man on both sides of the law. There’s no way I’d be working for him now, though, if my father thought for a minute anything illegal was happening at Falco Industries.
My father opens the door with a frown on his face. “Hey, baby, why’re you ringing the bell? Last time I checked, you still lived here.”
“Hey, Daddy.” I smile before throwing myself into his muscular arms. I’m close to both of my parents, but my father and I share so many similar traits that we can often finish each other’s sentences. There has always been a special bond between us, and I’m so thankful for him. I’ve had him wrapped around my finger from the moment I knew it was possible, and that’s never changed.
He enfolds me in a strong embrace, nearly squeezing the breath out of me. “God, I’ve missed my girl so much.” He sighs against the top of my hair. When I pull back, he studies my face as if looking for answers before he asks the first questions. “How’ve you been, baby? I was on the verge of begging your uncle to evict you so you’d come home. You know how your mother worries.” I bite back a smile because we both know my father is the one who stresses over his family.
“I’m doing great, Daddy,” I assure him. “It’s good to be home, though. Where are Mom and Kyle?”
“Your brother is on some trip with his fraternity.” Cringing, he adds, “The less I know about that, the better. When he needs bail money, I’m sure I’ll hear from him. And your mom is in the kitchen having coffee. I’ll go ahead and warn you that one of her friends told her about you and Aidan Spencer being affectionate toward each other. She barely slept a wink last night. What’s going on there—”
“Pete, who was at the door?” my mother calls from the other room.
My dad shakes his head ruefully and motions me forward. “I swear it’s like she knows,” he whispers as we make our way down the hall and into the bright and airy kitchen at the end of it. My mother is sitting at the kitchen table wearing her reading glasses while she flips through the morning paper. She’s a gorgeous woman who has maintained her slim build and has beautiful, long blond hair. She could easily pass for someone years younger than her forty-five. I’ve always been so proud to have such a beautiful mom. Other kids were embarrassed when their moms dropped by school, but I was the exact opposite.
Her face lights up when she sees me in the doorway. She gets to her feet and crosses the room at a near run. I’m once again hugged tightly. “Oh sweetheart, there you are. Your father has been just beside himself since you’ve been gone. I could barely keep him from going after you.” I turn my head sideways and smirk at my dad. He gives me a sheepish grin as if to acknowledge that he’s been busted but couldn’t care less. She takes my hand and pulls me toward the table. “Come sit down and tell us what you’ve been up to. Did you make any new friends while you were away?”
My father winks at me as he takes a seat next to my mother. We both know she’s dying to ask about Aidan but is hoping I’ll just volunteer the information. “I had a nice, relaxing vacation at the beach. I did a lot of walking and swimming. I made a few friends there. The bartender at the outdoor bar was awesome. We’re officially Facebook friends now, and I’m following him on Twitter. It’s too soon for Instagram, but I can’t rule it out.” I bite my lip to keep from laughing at my mother’s bemused expression. My dad is looking everywhere but at us, trying to keep his smile under control as well. We both know I’m screwing with her, but she still hasn't put it together yet.
“Er . . . I’m sure he’s a perfectly nice man. But what about Aidan Spencer?” she finally blurts out. “Catherine Sullivan said you were all up on him at his mother’s funeral yesterday.”
All up on him? I mouth to my father as he looks away with his shoulders shaking. Oh, dear Lord, my mother must be watching reality television again. When she was addicted to Jersey Shore, it was impossible to have a conversation with her that didn’t include some type of slang. She’s a member of two county clubs, for heaven’s sake. How have those blue bloods not shamed her out of that habit by now? “Aidan is a . . . friend of mine,” I finally say. “I was helping him through a difficult situation.”
This time, my father cuts in with, “But how do you even know him? I mean you’ve probably met in passing somewhere along the line, but that’s it, right?”
“Well, that’s actually an interesting story,” I say brightly. “Turns out he was also staying in Charleston while I was there. We met one night at the outdoor bar and recognized each other.”
My mother wrinkles her nose, looking perplexed as she asks, “So you what—became friends?”
Boy, what a tough crowd. Their eyes focus on me as if waiting for my answer anxiously. “Um . . . kind of,” I say evasively. “We had dinner together some evenings and hung out on the beach.”
Showing no sign of lightening up on the rapid-fire questions, my mom asks, “Is he your boyfriend now?” Then she makes quotation marks with her fingers and adds, “Or is this a casual hook up? I mean, if you were that close at the funeral, there must be a little more going on here than friends. From what I remember, he’s quite the hunk.” My father clears his throat as if voicing his objection of her description
, and she pats him on the hand. “Oh relax, babe, I’m just giving Kara some support.”
I get to my feet and grab a cup out of a nearby cabinet then pour myself some coffee. After a few sips, I settle back in my seat before admitting, “I don’t really know what Aidan is. We were kind of seeing each other in Charleston, but then he found out about his mom and had to come back. We didn’t stay in touch after that. That is partly my fault because he did text me a few times. Then Uncle Lee told me about his mother passing away, and I don’t know . . . I felt like I needed to be here.” Although I’m not planning to share every detail with my parents, it is actually really good to talk to someone about Aidan. During our weeks together, but especially during our weeks apart, I didn’t tell anyone. I don’t have many close girlfriends anymore, so speaking about him is in some ways cathartic. Necessary. A . . . relief.
“You could do worse,” my mom adds helpfully. “From what I’ve gathered from your father and Google, he’s a very successful man. He’s the best friend and right hand of Lucian Quinn.”
Exasperated, I say, “Mom, I know who Lucian is. After all, my cousin is married to him. And why in the world would you be googling Aidan? Isn’t that some kind of invasion of privacy?”
“Not if he doesn’t know about it,” she argues. “Plus, you’re my only daughter. It’s my job to make sure you’re not dating some kind of pervert or convict. Did you know that almost all states have their criminal records online now? For a small fee, a parent can really have some peace of mind.”
I drop my head onto the table, barely resisting the urge to bang it a few times for good measure. Why in the world did my father ever buy her a computer? I swear the woman can tell you the address of every sex offender in the state. Now, she’s adding Aidan to her usual round of nosy detective work. Knowing him, he’ll be amused, but I don’t want to risk finding out. “Dad,” I mumble without raising my head, “can you please pull the plug on her Wi-Fi access?” He chuckles, and I’m afraid I hear them kissing like teenagers. I stay where I am for a few moments longer to miss their usual PDA before lifting my head and frowning at their flushed expressions. As much as I grumble about it, I love the fact that my parents are still so crazy about each other.
“Sorry, baby,” my dad says not looking in the least repentant. “You know your mother is a free spirit. Just be glad that I draw the line at letting her break into Aidan’s house or lift his fingerprints.”
“You can actually do that now, you know,” my mother pipes in. “Have someone use a glass and then mail it to this company that charges fifty dollars to run them through their nationwide system.”
My father and I both groan at the same time. “That’s great to know, Mom, I’ll keep that in mind,” I say sarcastically. I’m surprised I ever had a date growing up. Luckily, she’s able to keep some of her crazy under wraps when there are guests present.
Then comes the inevitable question that I always hate because it’s no longer just an innocent inquiry into my well-being. “So, honey, how have you been feeling?” my mom asks, looking me up and down as if hunting for defective parts.
“I’m good, Mom. Well rested from my vacation and ready to get back to work for Uncle Lee.”
“You remember you have an appointment with your oncologist in a few weeks, right?” my dad asks quietly. The mood in the kitchen is so damn somber now. Mentioning the dreaded cancer takes us all back to those days of chemo and surgery. Another thing I hate about this fucking disease is that we’ll never be a normal family again. It’s always there below the surface. The dread, the worry, the uncertainty.
Keeping my face carefully blank, I nod my head. “I know. I set a reminder on my phone. It’s routine, though, so there’s no need to worry you guys.”
My mom’s hands tremble on her cup as she asks, “You’re still doing your breast exams, right? Early detection is so important. I wish you’d had the double mastectomy. Why didn’t—”
“Mom,” I say sternly. “The doctor said it wasn’t necessary, and the cancer can come back somewhere else.”
“We’re not trying to upset you,” my dad says quietly. “We worry, that’s all.”
My shoulders droop, and I feel like an ungrateful bitch. I have a wonderfully, supportive family and lashing out at them is the last thing I should be doing. “I know, and I’m sorry.” I attempt a smile. “It would be great if we could all go back to the days when that wasn’t necessary, but we can’t. I promise I’m doing my self-exams, and if anything out of the ordinary comes up, I’ll call the doctor right away.”
My father, bless his heart, changes the subject for which I’m grateful. “So when are you coming back to Falco?”
My mother grabs his arm, saying excitedly, “Have you told Kara about Liza?”
My father rolls his eyes. “No, honey, this is the first time I’ve seen her as well. And we probably shouldn’t be gossiping about it. Lee hasn’t told us anything concrete.”
I sit up straighter, sensing a good story here. Liza has been Uncle Lee’s assistant for several years, and I absolutely adore her. She’s sweet but knows how to kick ass when need be. She’s also absolutely gorgeous and single. I’ve often wondered why my uncle doesn’t seem to notice those facts. “All right, well, someone is damn well going to talk now. You can’t leave me hanging like this.”
“Language, Kara.” My father clicks his tongue. Thank goodness my father hasn’t heard Aidan speak when we’re alone. Not that I mind . . .
My mother leans forward in her seat and drops her voice to a whisper for some strange reason. “Liza quit. She handed in her notice during a meeting. She called Lee a blind fool and said she wasn’t going to waste her whole life waiting on him. Apparently, he’s been frantic to get her back, but she’s not taking his calls. She’s also not staying at home because he’s been going by there trying to see her.”
I know my eyes are huge as I say, “Wow. I can’t believe Liza quit. She loves working at Falco. And what is Uncle Lee doing without her? She handled everything for him. I bet he’s chasing his ass all day long now.” When I see my father’s scowl, I realize I’ve let another curse word out. It’s hard to believe a man raised on the streets is so particular about that. “Sorry, Dad,” I toss in, and he winks.
“It’s been tough on Lee,” my father admits. “We’ve already gone through a string of temps, but he keeps finding fault with them. The office is a mess right now. No one stays long enough to get anything done. I’ve been spending my day answering the phones, if you can believe it.” He gives me a hopeful look. “Maybe you can take over for a while until we figure something out. At least Lee isn’t likely to fire you.”
“Of course, I will,” I readily agree. “Although don’t expect a miracle. I have no idea how Liza managed to run everything so seamlessly. I can answer the phones while I attempt to figure it out. In the meantime, he needs to step up his efforts to find her and grovel. He must have been a jerk for her to quit.”
“He claims he doesn’t know what caused it,” my dad says, not sounding convinced.
“Oh, he knows all right,” my mom murmurs. “Liza has been in love with that man for years. You’d have to be blind not to see it. She’s basically been the woman in his life, with none of the perks that come along with it.” Turning to Dad, she says, “Remember how excited she was when he asked her to accompany him to that charity ball last year? They made such a striking couple. I know she hoped it would be a turning point in their relationship, but nothing ever came of it. I just don’t understand your brother at all,” she finishes with a disgusted shake of her head.
We talk for a few more minutes before I go upstairs to unpack. My suitcases are still sitting where I left them in my bedroom. I really need to get my own place now. I hear my phone chime in my purse, and I pull it out to find a text from Aidan.
Luc wants me to meet him and Max for a drink tonight. Pick you up afterward?
It’s ridiculous how mushy a flipping text can make me feel. I’m supposed t
o be putting distance between us, not gushing like a teenager would over a text from her first boyfriend. But that’s what this feels like. New. Exciting. I should say that I’m staying home tonight and make some excuse not to see him. Instead, my fingers fly across the screen.
Text me when you leave the bar. I’ll drive to your place. Will need my car for work tomorrow.
I just manage to stop myself from adding a smiley emoticon. I’m so screwed. Would it be so bad, though? Does he really need to know my entire medical record to go out with me? Isn’t the STD talk the extent of what you share with someone? It’s not as if we’re getting married tomorrow or anything that serious. We’re simply spending time together, both in and out of bed. Perhaps I’ve been making this more complicated than it needs to be. After all, we may decide we can’t stand each other, and that will be that. No need to start blurting out stuff that doesn’t concern him. For the first time since my cancer diagnosis, I’m going to live in the moment and not worry about tomorrow. Don’t I deserve some measure of normalcy? I feel a wave of relief at my decision, along with a nagging sense of something akin to guilt that I’m somehow deceiving the man I’ve come to care about, but I push it aside. It’s just casual, right?
aidan
“Tell me why we keep coming here?” I wince as I see Misty waving from behind the bar. “I barely made it out of here with my clothes on the last time.”
Max Decker, Lucian’s attorney and our friend, laughs. “No kidding. She scares the hell out of me. I told her I was engaged, and she offered to have a threesome. Said to bring Rose in, she’d love to get to know her better.” Raising a brow, he adds, “I don’t think she has any idea who she’s dealing with there. I doubt Rose has left home without carrying a gun since she was five years old.”
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