by Lizzie Shane
It was a love song and though he ostensibly sang it to honor the bride and groom, his eyes never left Candy as he strummed the guitar. At Aiden’s side, Candy’s expression was raw, almost dazzled, and he felt like he was watching something he shouldn’t be, a moment too intimate for outside eyes.
Ren sang of being trapped in a cage of his own making until love set him free—and Aiden found himself relating to the lyrics more than he cared to admit.
Had he let his own life become a prison of other people’s expectations? But even if Samira was the one who gave him purpose again and pulled him out of his past, like the song suggested, how was he supposed to convince her of that?
When Ren finished the final chorus, there was a moment of silence as the last notes hung in the air. Regina murmured, “Oh, how lovely,” and the spell was broken as she applauded, and the rest of the group followed suit.
Ren nodded modestly and handed off the guitar, making a beeline for his wife as Tug, predictably, began bragging about his own musical prowess. Aiden cringed. He was loath to interrupt the private moment between Candy and Ren, but it would be even more awkward if he just walked off the terrace without complimenting Ren on his performance.
“I don’t think I know that one,” Aiden said, drawing Candy and Ren’s attention.
“Not many people do,” Ren commented, his arms still looped around his wife. “But it’s always been one of my favorites.”
“I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere before,” the maid of honor commented as she joined them. “Who originally performed it?”
“Who can remember band names?” Candy cut in—too quickly—before Ren could answer. “I’m terrible at things like that. Half the time I think I’m listening to the Rolling Stones when it’s Queen or The Beatles or someone else entirely.”
“That’s because you have a tin ear,” Aiden commented, eyeing his sister who suddenly seemed jumpy.
“At least I know better than to try to sing in public. I leave that to Ren. He has enough talent for both of us.”
Ren grinned. “Don’t sell yourself short, babe. You have other talents.”
She shot him an arch look. “Oh?”
The look Ren shot her was definitely not meant for public eyes. Aiden coughed. “On that note, I believe Alicia and I are going to make ourselves scarce.” He linked his arm with the maid of honor’s. “Have fun, newlyweds.”
Candy’s head jerked around—again too fast. “We’ve been married for years.”
“Sure you have.” He didn’t know why he said it—some unformed suspicion in the back of his mind whispering, but the flare of worry in Candy’s eyes made him think he was onto something. Everything wasn’t as it seemed between Ren and Candy. He just didn’t know what they were lying about because it was obvious they were together and crazy about each other.
He turned away, taking Alicia with him, and moved toward Charlotte and Tug. “I know that I know that song,” Alicia grumbled.
“It was pretty,” Aiden agreed, thinking back to the lyrics. Sadly he had about as much musical talent as Candy so he didn’t think he was going to have any luck convincing Samira to give him a chance with a serenade.
But he had to come up with something. He wasn’t giving up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
A soft knock on her door in the middle of the night pulled Samira’s gaze away from her phone.
She’d tried to read after putting the girls to bed, but after re-reading the same paragraph five times without processing a word of it, she’d given the book up as a lost cause. The cottage didn’t have a television—not that she could have focused on a show anyway—so she’d curled up in bed with her phone, idly scrolling through Facebook, clicking on random articles until she found the one about the actor and his dirty-little-secret nanny. She’d been sucked into the world of celebrity gossip, but that soft knock jarred her back to the reality of her own scandal-in-progress.
“Samira.” Aiden’s voice was soft on the other side of the door, but no less insistent. “I’m not going away until you talk to me.”
It was a bluff. She knew she could call it. If she played the employee card and told him he was crossing a line, he would back off so fast he’d leave skid marks, but she couldn’t do that to him. Not when she knew he was as miserable as she was with the way they’d left things.
She slipped out of bed, padding barefoot to the door, and opened it a crack. “I really don’t think anything we say is going to make a difference,” she whispered, keeping her voice low since they were only steps from the girls’ room.
“I was an ass the other night. Don’t you think we should at least talk about this?”
“Aiden…What good is it going to do?” She needed to get him thinking about all the reasons why she was being smart. Doing the right thing. “There’s no future here. You have to see that.”
“Come downstairs,” he urged. “Please.”
He seemed so reasonable… and she couldn’t say no. She nodded and he stepped back, letting her precede him down to the main room below. When they reached the lower level, he moved straight to the kitchen and reached above the fridge to a cabinet she hadn’t even realized was there, plucking a bottle out of its recesses. “Would you like one?” He tipped the bottle in her direction, reaching for a glass.
Samira frowned at the whiskey—was he stashing liquor now or had the bottle been stocked by their hosts and he just happened to know where it was? “You don’t need to—”
“Drink myself stupid?” he finished for her. “I might not need to, but it doesn’t sound like a bad idea at the moment.” He poured himself a glass and resealed the bottle, but didn’t reach for the drink. “I wish someone would explain to me why I keep falling in love with women who are determined to push me away.”
Her mouth went dry. In love?
“First Chloe, then you.”
The comparison caught her off guard and she froze, at a loss for how to respond. “I…”
“I know, this is different, but you have to admit, it does seem a little bit like the universe is out to screw me.” He lifted the drink, but set it down again, his eyes going distant.
“I killed myself trying to be everything Chloe needed when she got sick. To provide for her financially, to be a father to our girls, to be husband and caretaker. I didn’t sleep. I barely ate. Everything I did was for her and the more I did, the angrier she seemed to get with me. I would have done anything for her and she hated me for it. Just like the more I want you, the more you push me away.”
Samira didn’t know what to say about their situation, so she focused on Chloe. “She was scared,” Samira whispered, approaching him, though she kept the granite peninsula between them as a buffer. She remembered those days toward the end of Chloe’s battle—the rages that always seemed to find Aiden as their target. Fear translated into anger. “It’s easier to scream at the world than it is to admit you’re living every second of your life in terror. She was angry at fate and God and the cancer and she took it out on anyone in her line of fire because it wasn’t fair, she shouldn’t have had to be so scared. But she loved you, Aiden. I think she would have made you stop loving her if she could, but she always loved you. If I know anything, I know that.”
*
Aiden met the certainty in Samira’s eyes and felt something deep inside him begin to unknot. He’d almost forgotten that Samira knew Chloe. That she’d been there, a witness to the unraveling of his world. She’d known Chloe, perhaps better than he had toward the end. His wife had let Samira near her even when she used to curse at him and send him away.
Could Samira be right? Had Chloe loved him behind those rages? Had it been fear talking? Fear screaming at him to get away from her?
He hadn’t talked to anyone about the way she hated him in the end. His family knew her illness had been hard on them, but they didn’t know the details. The secret of her hatred had eaten away at him. A corrosive poison that corrupted even the good memories he’d once had.
He’d started to doubt everything about their relationship, even the dreams they’d once had together. But somehow Samira—not even her words, but the absolute conviction behind them—lanced the boil and he felt the poison leaking out.
Chloe had stopped saying she loved him back when he said it to her, but old memories flickered in his mind now—her “I know, Aiden,” hadn’t always been sarcastic and dismissive. Sometimes it had been so sad his throat had closed off and the pressure had been so great he couldn’t breathe. Sometimes after she had yelled at him to just get away from her and he’d refused she would let him hold her and the rage would break into tears and she would cling to him so tight, as if she could hold onto their forever if she just held tight enough. She would sit and watch the girls sleep, even when she refused to hold them and play with them anymore.
She’d tried to cut herself out of her own life—so it would be easier for them to let her go?
Aiden’s chest ached and he pressed a fist against his sternum, looking down at the counter but blind to the sight. All he saw was Chloe. The wry, wicked twist of her lips when she was teasing him. The sharp, intelligent light in her eyes when they debated, and she always won. Her laugh—the real one that she only brought out with him, that always had the slightest edge of naughty delight like it was their little secret that she was so bad. The smug way she bragged about having him wrapped around her little finger—and for once the memories didn’t taste bitter on his tongue.
Like he’d finally figured out how to forgive her for all the things he’d been holding deep inside.
He’d resented her—even when he’d hated himself for his anger at her, he’d been angry and frustrated when she’d pushed him away. He’d pushed down his anger, absorbing all of hers without complaint, but his heart had stashed away those feelings, hoarding them like a miser, and he hadn’t been able to let them go.
Something loosened in his ribcage and he looked up at Samira—who had somehow found a way to open up the vault on all those old hurts, releasing them and giving him back the memory of his wife.
The two loves of his life couldn’t have been more different. Chloe had been a sharp, bright shining thing. Looking at her had been like looking at a diamond—facets and hard edges and brilliance. So much brilliance.
Samira was softer, warmer, but no less beautiful. A pearl, but a rare and magnificent one. A woman with an unending well of understanding and compassion, but who could be just as stubborn as he was, who could dig in her heels and match him, toe to toe, when she believed in something.
“I love you.”
*
The second time he said it, Samira closed her eyes against the sound. When she opened them again he was rounding the counter, reaching for her, she took a step back but his hand still brushed her arm and her entire body woke up from just that glancing contact. She was tuned to him. “Aiden…”
“Please don’t push me away. I love you, Samira.”
She shook her head, not looking at him, because she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist if she did. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? Because you’re scared?”
“Of course I am.” But she stopped retreating, and he came closer, until they were separated only by inches, his warmth so close she could feel it through her pajamas.
“Are you going to let fear get in the way of us?” He gently cupped her cheek. “You know we’re good together.”
She knew no one had ever made her feel the way he did—but that feeling was an illusion. “There are so many reasons this is a bad idea,” she whispered.
“And just as many reasons it’s a good one.”
“I can’t be what you need,” she said, her voice inexplicably hoarse.
“Why don’t you let me worry about figuring out what I need?” He lowered his head, giving her plenty of time to stop him if she wanted to, but she lifted her chin toward him. “What about your needs?” he asked, just before his lips settled over hers, gently, persuasively.
“Aiden…”
“Let me be what you need. Please,” he whispered against her lips, the words little more than an exhalation, and her reply came, just as soft, but undeniable.
“I love you too.”
“Thank God,” he whispered and his arms firmed around her, lifting her against him. She moaned softly into his mouth, giving in—though nothing had felt less like a defeat. No. This was finally letting herself come home.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Samira woke up with a hard arm wrapped around her waist, tucking her backside against a firm male body. She sighed and snuggled deeper into the crook of his body, still too drowsy for reality to intrude on the lovely warmth of the morning. He was so strong. His weapon of choice was a fountain pen instead of a sword, but beneath that suit was an old fashioned knight, with the honor—and the muscles—to match. Or maybe she’d been reading too much romance again.
His breathing changed and she knew he was awake, but he didn’t move other than to tighten his arm ever so slightly, pulling her fractionally closer.
“Good morning,” she whispered, stretching against him. He released a satisfied rumble and pressed a kiss into the side of her neck, nosing her hair out of the way where it tangled over her shoulder.
She must look a mess. If she didn’t sleep with her hair braided, it was always a rat’s nest by morning, but Aiden’s fingers had worked the braid loose when he’d woken her up in the middle of the night for round three. There was probably a crease on her cheek from the pillow and she undoubtedly had morning breath, but none of that mattered when he mumbled, “Good morning,” in a scratchy voice that sent shivers down her spine.
It was the first time they’d woken up together. When they were together at the townhouse, she’d always snuck up to her own room in the middle of the night, using the girls as an excuse to keep him at a distance, but things were different here. They were less cautious.
In more ways than one.
“We need to be better about protection,” she said, trying to ignore the way he was kissing along her shoulder. He hummed something that could have been an acknowledgement against her skin. “Aiden. I’m serious. I could be pregnant.”
He didn’t stop kissing, moving down her spine. “Don’t you want kids?”
She twisted to frown over her shoulder at him. “That isn’t the point and you know it.”
“Mm?” he mumbled, still focused on his task, which now involved cataloguing her ribcage with his mouth.
“We’re still figuring out what this is and you think it’s time for a baby? We haven’t even told anyone about…this.” She waved a hand at the bed. Just last night she’d still been trying to break up with him.
He moved quickly, rolling her onto her back and looming over her with his arms braced on either side of her. “Firstly—I know what this is. I love you. And I don’t take that lightly. That isn’t going away. No matter how much you question it. Secondly—this…” He rolled his hips where he’d settled between her thighs and she realized all of him was awake and ready to play. “…is not something I was planning to tell people about, but you’re right that we do probably need to tell the girls and our families before we start having children. Luckily, we’d have nine months to figure out how to explain the concept of a little brother or sister to Stella and Maddie. And thirdly—” He lowered his upper body until his lips barely brushed hers in a fleeting kiss. “Did I mention I love you?”
“You’re impossible,” she complained, but she ruined the effect by twining her arms around his neck and drawing him back for a deeper kiss.
It was much later when he rolled out of bed to take a shower, and as soon as the bathroom door clicked shut behind him, reality began buzzing around her brain like flies.
He wasn’t taking this seriously. Aiden seemed to think all they needed to do was decide they wanted to be together and declare their undying love and then love would conquer all—but clearly he’d never seen Scandal. Or read Romeo & Juliet. There were still obstac
les—and she felt like she was the only one in the relationship willing to acknowledge them. And how could they possibly overcome them if he was busy pretending they weren’t there?
Last night had been heaven—but it hadn’t magically solved everything. She probably should have held strong, should have stuck to her guns and kept him at arm’s length… but she couldn’t regret being with him, even if it was a mistake. When he’d told her he loved her, she’d felt something detach inside her—like the tether holding her to caution had released and not even gravity could keep her from floating off the floor.
He loved her and she loved him. They would work out the rest.
But still she worried. All the more because he didn’t seem to remember how to worry.
Sunlight peeked through the window, prodding her out of bed. The girls could be awake already, wondering where she was, but when she dressed quickly in last night’s discarded clothes and crept into the hallway she saw that the twin’s door was still shut and no sound came from within. Since Maddie was constitutionally incapable of being quiet, they must still be asleep.
Samira washed her face, brushed her teeth, and changed into fresh clothes, catching herself humming as she trotted down the stairs to start the coffee. Even her doubts and worries couldn’t entirely smother the little bubble of happiness in her chest. She’d stopped believing in happily ever afters for herself, but in this moment, with the sunshine streaming through the cottage windows and a man she loved who loved her back showering upstairs, maybe it was possible.
She heard the shower shut off upstairs as she was pulling eggs out of the refrigerator for omelets. They’d burned some serious calories last night and Aiden was probably as famished as she was. She couldn’t seem to stop humming as she puttered around the kitchen, setting a skillet on the stove and dropping a pat of butter to melt in the pan.
Heavy male footsteps on the stairs a few minutes later announced the arrival of her lover, but she didn’t turn to face him, determined not to be a fawning idiot. She caught the scent of his soap a fraction of a second before strong arms wrapped around her from behind and he nuzzled her neck.