Finally More: The Evermore Series Book 5

by De Lune, Rachel

  “I’m often asked to travel for valuations. When I get the opportunity, I stay a little longer in whatever city or country I’m in. My way to escape and explore. The south of France is one of my favourite places to visit.” Part of me wished I could jet off for a few days. With Aiden.

  “Sounds great. I wouldn’t mind visiting France. Somewhere off the beaten track. Remote and quite with no one to disturb us.”

  I look at him, and he realises his slip. Pink colours his cheeks, and I roll my lips together in delight.

  “I haven’t been able to do much travelling, unfortunately.” Aiden moves the conversation on.

  “I thought everyone takes a gap year to travel before uni these days?”

  “Not for me. I did an art foundation course before my degree. And then I’ve been there for Gran and Grandad.”

  “Gran?”

  “She died nearly two years ago. A few months later we moved Pete to The Pines. They hid his Alzheimer’s from me for a while, and when they finally told me, Granny was sick. She had been caring for the both of them. She died of cancer, and Grandad took a turn for the worse. We’ve been here ever since.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” I slide my hand over his and am surprised when he twists his wrist to capture my fingers. The low pulse of energy from our connection is hard not to miss, but I try and concentrate on something other than the growing connection between us. Every time I look into his eyes, I fear I’ll get lost in them.

  “They raised me. To me, they’re my parents.” Aiden’s statement grabs my attention.

  “You don’t know your mum or dad?”

  “The story is, Mum left when I was about four. I’ve never heard anything from my dad. I don’t think my grandparents knew him. I’ve never needed either of my biological parents. My grandparents were everything. I want to make sure I’m here for Grandad, like he’s always been there for me.”

  “Is that why you’re here so often?” I can’t help the question, but it seems like there’s an obvious answer.

  “Mostly. It helps that Grandad has a regime and he knows that I’ll be here to see him. When things flux, he gets confused, and he slips. He’s all I have left, so I’m happy to spend my time with him if it means it does some good.”

  If it hadn’t been clear to me before just how important Aiden’s grandad is to him, he’s just laid it all out for me. The warmth and love he has for what’s left of his family is obvious. He holds my hand tighter, and I let him seek comfort from our connection.

  “You still haven’t answered my question about food.”

  “Tell you what, I’ll give it some thought and have an answer for you tomorrow.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  I turn my head, and our eyes lock. For a moment, I see a sweet, lost boy, desperate for love. He breaks the trance by smiling, and the man who Aiden became is back with me.

  I glance at my watch and realise that our time is nearly up. I plan on popping into the office this afternoon and going back to work after the weekend. My work and independence have always been important, but now being here for Mum matters the most. Aiden’s words about his grandad still reverberate around in my chest, worming into my heart. “I’m going to drop in and say hi to Mum before I leave. I’ve got some errands to run.”

  “Cool. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh, and George mentioned something about more coffee?”

  “Yes, I thought he might. Tell him he’ll have a new stock tomorrow.” I appear to have turned George into a fellow addict.

  I head to the office in the centre of Bath and slide into the chair behind my desk. The familiar surroundings of the room settle me. I turn the laptop on and check for important messages. I’d made arrangement for all the valuation requests to go to a colleague while I was off. I still had a few specialist requests, which I’d rescheduled for next week. I couldn’t put them off any longer, or they’d take their business elsewhere. Bonhams had a reputation, and I was one of the best in my field. Jewellery valuation didn’t ever feel like a chore, more of a privilege.

  Luckily, most of my work is by appointment only, which had made the last few weeks much easier to juggle.

  As well as arranging my diary for the next week, I check my personal emails and see two from Sarah. Courteous but enquiring. She wants to know when I’ll be back at Solace. My talks with her don’t seem to sink in. I make a note to reach out to Andrew to see how he got on with her and if they’ve arranged to see any more of each other.

  I stop in to pick up the next supply of coffee for my own stash and George before heading home for the day.

  “Are you going to take your move or stare at the board all day, sonny?”

  “Sorry.” I snap myself from my daydream and move my rook into position. “Check.” My mind wasn’t in the game but on Natasha. It has been since the day I first met her. Luckily, I didn’t need much concentration to win at chess.

  “No, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Come on, Grandad. You know I’ve got you.”

  “All right. I’ll give you this one game.”

  I pack up the chess set and take Grandad back to his room. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. I have a class later.”

  “I’ll be fine. Go. See you for a re-match tomorrow. Maybe Miss Natasha would give me a game?”

  “Why don’t you ask her tomorrow,” I call back as I leave his room. I sign out and head back home.

  I walk into my building on the edge of town and fight to concertina the metal cage door of the old-fashioned lift before winning and hitting the top floor button. It’s a regular occurrence and one I often bypassed by running the seven flights of stairs. My building would be worth a fortune if the owners decided to do a little renovation. Fortunately, rent is manageable, and my apartment boasts fantastic light. Just what I need.

  I flick on the entryway lights and walk through to the living space. My easels and canvases are stacked against the side wall, while floor to ceiling windows run along the back, opening out onto a tiny strip of balcony. My artist materials act as a natural divide to the open plan space. Painting to the right, living on the left. A small kitchen area is opposite the living section. My bedroom and a shoe box-sized room I use for storage are down the hall.

  I assess the piece I’d started a few weeks ago. The composition held no interest to me. The blonde curls I’d sketched out were the wrong colour. I wanted to paint raven hair, pale skin, and slender curves. Not the curvaceous blonde on the linen in front of me.

  Natasha is elegant and striking. Her grey eyes haunt me long after she leaves The Pines, and I find myself anticipating our next meeting. I crave our time together like she desires her dose of morning coffee. She holds me rapt. My eyes fall to her lips when she speaks, and I imagine all the crazy things I’d rather she do with them than talk. I am semi-hard from the moment I catch her perfume to the moment she says goodbye.

  “Get a grip.” I’m acting like a sap. I grab a microwave meal from the fridge and heat it up. I have a drawing class in town in an hour. I haven’t done any life sketching since the model in the current pieces I’m working on. I need something to snap my attention to my work rather than the woman distracting my every waking thought. I must deliver a six-piece collection to London in a little over three months. I don’t have time to be lusting after a new muse, no matter how fucking hot she is.

  I try to keep the routine of visiting Grandad the same over the weekend and arrive at The Pines at my usual time. I don’t see Natasha’s Alpha in the car park and ignore the disappointment that lurks in my gut.

  Over the year I’d been coming here, it was rare that family members visited every day. It wasn’t practical for some. I am fortunate that it fits in with my life. I don’t see it as giving up my time. Spending the morning chilling out and keeping my grandad company isn’t a chore.

  I sign in and go to sit with him. We go over some of the same conversations we had yesterday. The weather, what I was working on, the latest
gossip from the other residents. Joan has upset Iris by spending time with Agatha. It had been a source of conversation for the last few days.

  We head out into the garden for a little while making the most of the sunny weather. My attention is split between Grandad’s gossip and catching Natasha if she arrives. She’s become a prominent feature in my mind, and she’s totally easy on the eye. For the first time, I have someone I can talk with and spend time with who appreciates the sacrifice of what Alzheimer’s demands.

  “Are you even listening to me, Aiden?”

  “Of course, Grandad. You were telling me about Agatha.” I make an educated guess.

  “All right then. Are we going to go back in?”

  “Whenever you want.”

  “I’d like a cup of tea. Yes. Can you get me a cup of tea? A proper cup, and not that swill they try and pass as tea. I want my own.”

  “Let’s see what we can do.”

  I take Grandad back to his room before heading to see George. He’s not only good for coffee supplies, but when Grandad gets his mind set on tea, he won’t accept anything but the actual loose-leaf kind. It’s sad to think that he doesn’t ask as often as he used to. I can only guess that he is either content, or non-the-wiser, with the ‘swill’ the home delivers.

  After several cups, I return the tea set to George. As I pass down the corridor, I catch Natasha’s voice. I can already tell it’s strained, and I detour toward her mum’s room.

  “Mother, calm down. It’s fine.” I hear her outside the room and stop to listen for a moment.

  “No, it’s not. You dump me in this place, and I never see you. You come in here and expect everything to be fine? Your father won’t stand for this. Where is he? Christopher?”

  “Mother, listen to me.”

  I peer around the corner and see Natasha crouched down next to her mother.

  “Dad died. It’s just you and me.”

  “Nonsense. Why would you be so cruel to say that to me?”

  “It’s the truth. You need to listen to me.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do! Go! You’re a spiteful girl. How did I raise you to be so spiteful? Go. I don’t want to see you again.”

  “Mum, please,” Natasha pleads. The anguish in her voice is painful.

  Her mother just turns away.

  “Natasha, fancy a coffee?” I knock on the door jam and put on a cheery voice, not wanting to give away that I’d heard most of the conversation.

  She rises from her position and smooths down her top. She turns and smiles, although it doesn’t lighten her face like usual. “Sure. Thank you, Aiden. Mum, I’ll be back later.”

  She walks right past me toward the door and heads for the kitchen. She enters the code, smiles at George, who has coffee in her hand in seconds. “Thank you. You’re a life saver.” She turns and heads back the way we came. I grab a cup and follow her out. Her route takes her toward the library room – the quietest area here.

  As she enters, she takes a seat, crosses her long legs, and takes a long sip of her hot drink.

  The frustration simmers from her in waves.

  From what I can tell, this is the first time her mother has been so harsh to her. “They don’t mean it. It’s hard to understand or accept, but you learn to let it wash over you.”

  She turns her beautiful grey eyes on me, and I feel her pain. I’ve experienced it with my grandad, and it’s like a stab of ice into your chest that spreads throughout your body. “It’s a symptom of the disease. Is this the first time she’s had an episode like this?”

  “Since we moved her in, yes. She’s been frustrated and forgetful before. I know she’s disheartened, but I’ve never seen her like that. So bitter.”

  Natasha doesn’t look at me, and I take the opportunity to study her profile. Her lashes fan out and rest just above her cheeks with her eyes cast down. Her straight nose, full lips. Her fucking lips. I approach and take a seat next to her. It’s stupid. I’m acting as if I were approaching a wounded animal.

  “Routine can only go so far in helping. Grandad has days when he doesn’t remember me. Seeing his anguish and confusion is like a train wreck right in front of me. Those days are increasing.”

  “A few weeks ago, she was all right. She was okay.”

  “Really?”

  Natasha doesn’t answer. She tips her coffee back and drains the cup.

  “Do you want to stay or head home? I only ask because Grandad mentioned playing chess with you.”

  She finally looks at me. “Did he now? I’d be happy to play him.” Those lips of hers curve into a slight grin, and it sets my nerves on fire. That smile is deadly, and I’m pretty sure I’d end up agreeing to whatever she asked if she gave me one of her sly expressions as encouragement.

  The chess game provides a useful distraction. Mum’s words have left a sting as if she’d verbally slapped me across the face. She is a soft, caring woman who hasn’t raised her voice to me since I was a child. I need to adopt a thicker skin. Rationally, I know she isn’t herself. I shouldn’t let her bother me, but seeing her over these last few weeks has weakened my usually tough shield.

  I move my knight and wait for Peter to counter. I can see he would have been a great player a few years ago.

  Aiden hasn’t said much, but I can feel his eyes on me. They set off a warmth in me that’s far too pleasant, especially when I’m having a shitty day.

  Carefully observing, I keep my eyes on the chess game and resist looking at him. Pity isn’t what I want. I’m a big girl and don’t need him to feel sorry for me.

  Peter fidgets with a couple of his pieces before playing his bishop. I move to check and sit back in the chair to give him time. Aiden smiles and shows a dimple on his left cheek, buried behind a layer of beard scruff. It reminds me of how young he looks. I hit my fortieth last month. Age has never featured in my preferences too heavily, but there weren’t too many youngsters at Solace. Most were at least in their mid to late twenties or older. Aiden has a boyish charm, and it’s annoyingly appealing.

  “You got me,” Peter grumbles.

  “You put up a good game. How about we have a re-match soon?” I don’t mention the move that would have countered my check.

  He looks up, resigned to his loss. A dimmed version of Aiden’s sea blue eyes stare at me.

  “I’d like that. You give me some competition. Not like ol’ laddy here.” He tips his head in Aiden’s direction who just chuckles to himself.

  “Right, then Grandad. Time to call it a day. I’ll take you back.” Aiden is careful as he assists Peter out of the library. I clear up the chess board and put it back on the chest of draws in the corner.

  I linger in the room, unsure if I should return to my mother’s room or not. I don’t want to have a repeat of earlier, but I also resist leaving her on such bad terms. Anger wells inside of me at her complete change of personality. I can’t control this situation, and it infuriates me as nothing else has.

  Before my mind is decided, Aiden appears back in the library. He smiles shyly at me. “I’d really like to grab a drink with you.”

  His proposition, even with the attraction that’s clearly between us, isn’t want I was anticipating so quickly.

  I look up into his blue eyes and see hope mixed with desire. It is a familiar look I often see from a new submissive. That thought catches my breath in my throat, and I avoid Aiden’s lips. “I’m not sure a drink is such a good idea.” I speak the words robotically as my mind plays out a completely different scenario.

  “Oh, why not?”

  His grin increases his dimple, and I stow the gut reaction to pin him against the wall and kiss his mouth. Despite my blaring internal warning that he’s too young and too innocent, I desire his company tonight. I want to know someone else who’s been subjected to the evil that this disease has created. Against all my better judgement I can’t help accepting. “There’s a bar on the outskirts of town. Maddison’s. It’s part of The Opal House Hotel.”

 
“I’ve not heard of it.”

  “No, I doubt you have. We can meet for a drink there. Eight tonight.” I turn to leave before I make any further concessions to him. Dating outside of Solace isn’t my thing.

  My feet pause at the edge of Mum’s room. It’s been a couple of hours since I left her, and my hope that she’s calmed from her earlier aggression sings in my veins. I peek around the door and see her dozing in her chair. My heart sinks. I wanted to talk with Mum and not the woman who invaded her body this morning.

  “We can speak tomorrow, Mum.” I take the blanket from the foot of her bed and drape it across her lap. It feels wrong to leave with such bad feelings between us. Then again, would she even remember our argument, or what she said to me?

  I sign out of The Pines and leave.

  I am still of two minds about going to meet Aiden. After a little space, I can visualize the trouble it could cause. I didn’t date, and I couldn’t remember the last time I went on a vanilla date. I’d lived my social and personal life in a very set way for a long time. It had been safe and ensured both my expectations and appetite were met. But perhaps I need a change. My buttery-soft black leather trousers are certainly a sexier choice than what Aiden had seen me in at The Pines. They are one of my favourites, so I pair them with a plum red shirt and heels. Perfectly presentable for a drink between friends.

  I grab my bag and drive the twenty minutes to the other side of town, ensuring an easy out if this doesn’t go well. If it does, I’d stay and drive in the morning. I already didn’t want to stop at one drink.

  After parking, I go and take a seat at the bar and wait for Aiden. It’s my habit to arrive early. I like to assess my submissives when we meet for the first few times. It gives me an opportunity to read them before they see me. Something about those early nerves sends excitement thrumming through my veins. Of course, Aiden isn’t my submissive. Something that conveniently keeps slipping my mind.