26. Aaron
26
AARON
I cursed myself for blowing it. I had less than two weeks, and Daisy was busy building a moat around her panties.
It should have been so easy. I had tried to be charming while still keeping some edge. Daisy was already off-kilter thanks to Aurora. All I had to do was twist the knife in her ego then flip her over on a pillow, pull those ridiculously short shorts and the panties down, hold her face in the pillow so she didn’t wake up the house with her screams of pleasure, then use some of the lube in the basket her crazy grandmother left in the room to fill her ass with my cock and fuck her until she felt my cum. Done.
Yet somehow, I’d blown it.
Wasn’t how it always was with Daisy? Somehow I always fucked up, said the wrong thing, made the wrong move.
I heard Natalie’s and Thomas’s kids chattering as I racked the weights in the home gym of Bill and Michelle’s house.
Toweling my face, I headed to the kitchen to grab a bottled water before my run.
There was giggling from the pantry. The kids were trying to climb up the shelves for the cereal when I switched on the light.
“Busted!” the little boy said dramatically.
“Where are your parents?” I asked them.
The two little kids giggled. “Asleep!”
I looked around, wishing Michelle or Bill or Natalie would appear and do something. The little girl kept climbing determinedly up the shelving for the cereal.
I watched, guarded.
The old wood shelves cracked ominously. Heavy appliances were stored on the top shelf. I knew the mortality statistics for children climbing on unsecured furniture.
Biting back a growl of frustration, I picked up Mya around the waist and grabbed the cereal.
“You can’t climb the shelving. You’ll get hurt.”
“Put her down,” Michelle said sharply from the door to the pantry as I was setting the little girl on the floor.
Michelle watched me warily and waved the kids to her.
“Grandma!” my cousins shouted.
“They just wanted…” I held out the cereal.
“Just don’t, Aaron.” She snatched the container from me. “Come on, you two. I’ll fix you some breakfast.”
The morning sun was ruthless as I dragged myself back from a brutal run and an ocean swim.
I hate this place.
I was starving and exhausted. Swimming in the Atlantic wasn’t the same as the pool in my house, fed by one of the underground springs. That had a current, but it wasn’t like the ocean.
I was usually too on edge to eat much when I was in the Hamptons with Emily’s family. I should have packed protein bars, though. I’d rather starve than eat breakfast with the Ragnors, especially after this morning.
Still, I forced myself to jog up the boardwalk.
“See, Mom?” Drew called from the back patio, where the Colemans were taking breakfast. “I told you he was coming for breakfast.”
“That’s what you all were doing this morning, eh?” Granny Madge elbowed Daisy, who glared at me and stuffed a piece of bacon in her mouth.
“Come eat breakfast,” Mrs. Coleman urged me.
“I—”
“Dude, you can’t abandon us. Deep-fried French toast. Please, man? Alex’s fiancé never requests it. Help a brother-in-law out,” Drew begged.
The Colemans applauded when I acquiesced and climbed the steps up to the deck.
“Mom was about to bake the French toast.”
“Just in time!” Each of Daisy’s little sisters grabbed one of my arms and dragged me over to sit next to my resentful wife.
Daisy took one look at me, her eyes sliding down my shirtless chest, then she abruptly stood up.
“I’ll have to check and see if they used the basket,” Granny Madge whispered to Alex, who rolled her eyes.
“I hope you’re going to bring Aaron a drink. Daisy made everyone fancy coffees.” Mrs. Coleman sipped her latte, which had one of Daisy’s signature foam designs. “Daisy, Aaron doesn’t like milk in his coffee. Can you make him an espresso, a triple?”
“I know how my own husband wants his coffee,” Daisy grumbled. “I only make him coffee five times a day.”
She started battering the triangles of stuffed French toast, likely so she didn’t have to sit next to me.
“How’s the water?” Wyatt asked as Daisy’s parents set plates of food in front of me—grilled vegetables, steak, sausages, potatoes, mounds of eggs.
“Pretty calm,” I said. “But I only swam from the pier to the marina. It might be rough past that.”
“You swam eight miles?” Drew’s eyes bugged out.
“I was swimming with the current,” I told him. “I ran down there then swam back.”
“I’m impressed.” Drew whistled.
“Give the man the rest of that omelet,” Granny Madge said as I scarfed down the sausage. “That pussy Daisy fed him this morning isn’t enough sustenance.”
Drew whacked me on the back as I choked.
Alex’s fiancé had a thousand-yard stare.
“How much did you have to drink, Gran?” Daisy asked.
The old woman hiccupped and reached for her mimosa. “Too much if I missed the sight of a half-naked man rising out of the ocean.”
“Coffee, Aaron.” Daisy set a tall insulated cup in front of me. I was greeted with a familiar smell.
I couldn’t stop the grin that spread over my face.
“You made my actual order.”
Daisy tried hard not to look pleased with herself.
“I didn’t want to listen to you complain.”
I took a sip of the strong coffee.
Her little sisters peered into the cup.
“It smells toxic.”
Daisy shooed them away.
“That’s how a man drinks his coffee!” Granny Madge declared.
Alex’s fiancé looked down at his latte.
“Aaron’s working on his collection of ulcers,” Daisy consoled him. “Don’t worry. Normal people appreciate latte foam art.”
“How did you even make this?” I marveled.
“My dad bought my mom an industrial espresso machine for her birthday.”
“I don’t have the faintest idea how to work it.” Mrs. Coleman laughed. “My daughter’s the only one who can. We drink coffee like it’s Rome when she’s around.”
“Other parents like to passive-aggressively ask me what Daisy’s doing with her life and tell me about their successful kids,” her dad bragged. “Sure, a lawyer in the family is nice, but Daisy tends bar and makes coffee. No one wants a lawyer or a financial adviser around on a Friday night, but someone who can make a killer old-fashioned?” He flashed a thumbs-up.
“I didn’t know you were a bartender.” I gazed across the table at her. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
“I just did private parties.” Daisy scooped the French-toast triangles out of the deep fryer.
“I call dibs!” her siblings yelled. Even Alex tried to fight off Drew for one as Daisy parceled them out.
“Let Aaron have one first,” her mom scolded.
“Daisy knows the recipe.” Her grandmother elbowed me. “She made these with very little supervision. If you decide you want to stay married to her, you could have breakfast in bed every day.”
“Gran, leave it.” Daisy set a steaming golden triangle on my plate and added a drizzle of syrup. “Aaron, if you want it later, I can wrap it up for you.”
Bring it back to the Ragnors’ and set off my mother?
I picked up the fork.
It was divine.
“You slept over there,” my mother stated when I tried to sneak in the back door of the Ragnors’ house.
Was that a trick question? Maybe. My father would always do that in the cellar—ask us a question that he knew the answer to, so he could trap us in a lie and punish us. My mother had picked up the same habit.
And honestly, so had I.
“I have to help them get ready for the party.”
“And that means you have to sleep over there to do it?” Emily trailed me through the mudroom, where Michelle was collecting beach towels.
She didn’t intervene.
“You’re running away from your problems, Aaron.” Emily wouldn’t let up. “You need to talk to me. We need to talk this out.”
“I don’t have time for a three-hour conversation with you.” I headed for the stairs.
Conversation? More like her yelling at me until she wore me down and I gave in and agreed to whatever she wanted.
“You need to tell me the truth.” Her voice rose.
Natalie paused at the top of the stair landing as Emily chased after me.
“I told you my boundaries regarding Daisy.”
“If it has to do with Daisy, Emily,” Natalie said sharply, “then Aaron has to do what he needs to do so that Coleman Mining doesn’t go tits up. The business has to come before your feelings.”
“You are such a horrible sister,” Emily screamed. “You’re the golden child. Mom and Dad always loved you more, and now you’re scapegoating me.”
“ I’m the golden child? Look in the fucking mirror, Emily.”
“You are gaslighting me. Both of you are gaslighting me.” My mother slammed her palm on the plaster wall.
I looked away from Natalie, feeling guilty as I darted past her and up the stairs.
I should have jumped in, kept the heat off her, should have protected my aunt, but I was a coward. That was why Grayson had to take down our father, right? Because I couldn’t protect anyone, even myself.
I sped into the small blue bedroom, closed the door, and leaned against it. Downstairs, Emily screamed at Natalie, and Bill begged Emily to calm down.
I hate the Hamptons.
“There’s the big strong man!” Granny Madge toasted me when I showed up at the Colemans’ to help set up the beach party.
Workers were already down on the packed sand, setting up a tent with tables and chairs, the white linen bright in the afternoon sun.
Between the black flower bouquet and the general stress of the ceremony, it had been easy to ignore the sight of Daisy in virginal white on our wedding day.
This afternoon, as she walked to me in sparky sandals, tugging self-consciously at the lacy hem of her skintight romper, something in me threatened to snap. I wanted to drag her away, away from all this, rip the white lace off her, fuck her on the beach in time to the waves.
“Go change your clothes,” I said abruptly.
“No,” she snapped, kicking at me. “My shoulders are covered, and so is all my cleavage. You can’t complain about my outfit.”
“Look, Princess.” I grabbed her knee. “For someone who was so sure she didn’t want my cock up her ass last night, you sure are doing a lot to persuade me that it should just say fuck your feelings, drag you up to that bedroom, rip you out of this outfit, and fuck you hard enough that everyone at the party knows just how you take your cock.”
Her nostrils flared.
“The clock is ticking.” My hands rested on her hips, fitting against her like an antique puzzle. “You were reading that contract. You want it. Want me. We have to do it. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you feel good. Make sure you come.” I inhaled the sweet summer scent of her. “That what you want? Because I’m not playing games with you anymore. We are two weeks into this contract. You haven’t fulfilled your end of the terms. I’ve poured half a billion dollars into this. You’re officially fucking with my money, Princess.” I squeezed her hips briefly, letting her feel the strength of my hands.
Daisy swallowed. Hard.
“I don’t have any other nice outfits.”
“I knew you’d say that.” I smirked. “I had Betty buy one for you.”
“I’ll be right back,” Daisy said, voice a little shakier, when her mother glided over.
I took the heavy bucket of champagne she was carrying. “Let me help you with that, Mrs. Coleman.”
“Where’s the bride?”
“This isn’t a wedding party,” I told my brother.
Daisy was talking to her grandmother’s second cousin, who was now free to travel and seemed to be miming the act of robbing a bank.
My wife made eye contact with me.
I jerked my head, signaling her over.
She gave me the finger.
‘Don’t look, Connor.” Spencer covered our youngest brother’s eyes. “That is not how you have a successful, long-lasting marriage.”
“The egg timer on this one is going off in two weeks, so…”
Daisy tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear as she maneuvered through the high-society crowd, her white dress swishing as she walked.
Someone was fucking with me.
The white dress was what I guess you’d call baby-doll style. I’d have taken the romper over it, what with the way the short skirt flared out around her hips, barely brushing halfway down her curvy thighs.
I was firing Betty. That was for damn sure.
“Aaron’s brothers!” Daisy cried, spreading her arms, the dress riding even higher up her thighs. “And they’re all better-looking than him.”
“I thought you were supposed to be a perfect hostess,” I glowered, hating that her comment annoyed me.
“You’re not a guest. You’re a burden.”
“Behold, the sexual tension,” Spencer murmured.
Fuck him.
“Welcome, welcome, thank you for coming.” Daisy reached up on her toes and kissed each of my brothers on the cheek.
I slapped Connor when he rested a hand low on her waist.
Daisy glared at me.
“This is Grayson’s girlfriend ,” I told her before she could kiss him.
“Kiss him!” Lexi demanded. “He doesn’t like to feel left out.”
Then the petite redhead hugged Daisy like a long-lost sister.
“Aaron told me all about your big family and the deep-fried French toast and your bedroom and your cat and the secret cheese! Your life is amazeballs!” Lexi gushed.
I shook my head slowly. “I barely mentioned it.”
“Okay, so, full disclosure, I used binoculars to spy from Aaron’s room,” Lexi said in a rush, “and some of that was from stalking your family’s Instagram, but your parents’ house is gorge, and your mom is such an amazing cook. Her voice is so soothing. I just love her pesto recipe. I have copies of her cookbooks. Do you think she can sign one? I have them in my bag. We’re flying back tonight. Grayson doesn’t want to sleep on the yacht.”
“No, you’re not. A helicopter is dangerous enough,” I interjected. “Flying in one at night is not happening.” I nodded to the horizon. “Especially not with those clouds.”
Spencer made a heart shape with his hands.
I ground my teeth as Graham and Finn leaned against each other.
“Aaron cares about you, Grayson!”
“Awww!”
My older brother gave me a small smile.
“Did you take the yacht? It’s so nice, right?” Lexi asked Daisy excitedly.
“Did you show her the Pokémon master bedroom?” Spencer waggled his eyebrows.
“He’s healing his inner child,” I said flatly.
“You can stay at my parents’ house. We have room,” Daisy told Lexi. “You can even have the bed.”
“Grayson’s not going to fit.” I couldn’t tell what was wrong with me, except that the idea of another man in Daisy’s bed made me want to douse something expensive in gasoline and light a match.
“Sleepover!” Lexi squealed.
Sleep in the same room as my brother? “Absolutely not.”
“Ooh, I see. Aaron’s trying to get some,” Lexi teased.
“I am not. I—”
“It’s so romantic, Aaron! I need a house like this,” Lexi declared, swooning.
“I’ll buy one for you,” my brother said abruptly.
“That’s not what I mean, but I love the enthusiasm, Grayson.” Lexi squeezed his hand.
“I have to admit, I lived for the drama at your wedding,” Lexi confessed to Daisy. “I hope Aaron’s being a good husband.”
“Why are you worried about me? She’s the one who threw a cake and ruined my suit,” I argued.
“My only regret is wasting perfectly good cake on you.” Daisy grabbed Lexi’s hand. “Come on, Lexi. Did you want to meet my mom? Looks like she needs to be rescued from Aunt Gigi.”
“Love you! New favorite person!” Lexi said.
Grayson gave me an assessing look before he and my brothers drifted off to network with the rich people. Connor had friends from Harvard whose parents had houses in the Hamptons, and those friends asked him about school.
I put on my business persona and talked to clients and potential clients. They were too polite to ask about my wife. When a couple of the more inebriated guests asked about her as the evening wore on, their wives redirected them.
“Looking out over your future?” Aurora asked, handing me a fresh glass of wine.
“Just drown me if it is.”
She laughed.
“Aaron!” Becca, my mom’s best friend, who she’d always talked about when we were trapped, gave me a one-armed hug.
“A married man!” Becca looked me up and down. “I think marriage suits you very well.”
“Not for long,” Aurora said, sipping her drink.
“Yes, your mom’s already planning the next wedding,” Becca said, too brightly. “She’s so excited. We spent hours the other day planning it over drinks.”
“Be careful,” Aurora teased, grabbing my arm briefly. “A wedding ring on a man’s finger brings out all the girls.”
I scanned the crowd after Aurora and her mom blended back into the sea of well-dressed, carefree people.
“It’s like The Great Gatsby , isn’t it?” Grayson said over my shoulder.
“I can never get used to it.”
“She’s no Daisy Buchanan, though.” He inclined his head to where Daisy stood conversing with my mother.
Dammit.
“Your wife seems…” Grayson began.
“Upset and unhappy?” Graham appeared beside me, eating a lobster roll. “Can’t imagine why, married to you.”
Daisy turned to look right at me, and she was fucking pissed.