Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Dex
I checked my phone the second I opened my eyes. I turned off the annoyingly loud alarm and squinted at the bright screen. No calls from Angie, which was a good thing. No calls or texts from Aria, which was a bad thing. Was something wrong? Did she finally come to her senses and realize I wasn’t worth the effort?
I got cleaned up and dressed for work, assuming I still had a job. I opened a can of sardines for Gus and set them on the railing. He hopped down from the wheelhouse and started his breakfast. The fog seemed to be parting earlier than usual this morning for a change. I loved living near the ocean and the coast, but fog always made it hard to start the day.
I pulled on my coat and climbed up on the dock. A light was on in Oscar’s cabin. I could see him hunched over a newspaper with a cup of coffee in his hand. He’d been living out here on a boat for years. I’d been living on the boat for three months, but I was already getting tired of it. And the weather would only get worse from here on out.
I walked with heavy footsteps toward the café. Nothing was working out the way I hoped. Aria had been the one bright spot, but even that one bright spot had been found through a tangled web with my brother. He was right. I only knew how to make a mess of things. I spotted Aria walking from the other direction. I was amazed at how familiar she was already, the smooth sway of her hips as she strolled along on those long legs, that luster-filled copper hair that changed colors according to the light and the sure way she carried herself, always in charge.
I quickly told myself she hadn’t returned my call or text because she was busy last night. But those few moments of trying to make myself feel better were dashed the instant we met at the door. “Morning,” she said coldly without looking at me.
“Morning,” I said hesitantly.
She unlocked the door, and I followed her inside, even though I wasn’t entirely sure she wanted me to. She spun around before we got five feet into the café. She still couldn’t look me in the eye and instead glanced to the side and pretended to adjust a salt shaker on the counter. “I’m not sure this is going to work out.”
I let her words hang in the air for a second, mostly so I could absorb them. “May I ask why? Is it my cooking skills? Or is it us ?”
She started taking off her coat, and that was when I caught a quiver in her bottom lip.
“I think I should at least hear a reason,” I said.
“You’re right. It’s us. We shouldn’t have started this. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
I moved closer and was heartbroken when she took a step back as if I repelled her. “You were thinking the same thing as me—maybe this could be something.”
Aria turned away again. “I was wrong.”
“I guess so. I’ll be on my way then.” I turned to leave.
“Your family deserves better,” she said sharply.
I stopped and turned back to her. “My family? You mean Kellan?”
“Not that family. I mean your other family.”
I pulled the beanie off my head in case it was affecting my hearing. “My other family? I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”
She huffed loudly. “Oh, for goodness’ sake—I drove to the town of Fairview yesterday afternoon to buy some spices at a local shop, and lo and behold there you were on the sidewalk with your—your family.”
It was ill-timed, but I still couldn’t stop the laugh. “You mean Angie and Max.”
“I don’t need to hear names. He looks very sweet, by the way.”
“He is, and he is a hundred percent not mine.”
She blinked those big brown eyes at me. “Not yours?”
I shook my head. “Angie is Quinn’s wife, and Max is their little boy.”
“Quinn’s wife and son?” The confidence in her posture and tone shrank back … a lot.
“That’s right. Not my family. My best friend’s family.”
She dropped her face and walked to the back. I stood still in the front of the café, wondering if I should follow or just write this one off as another one of life’s failures. I’d had more than my share of them. But none that meant this much to me. Aria had already gotten that deep into my heart.
She was standing in the middle of her kitchen, again avoiding eye contact.
“It was an easy mistake,” I said.
She shook her head. “I jumped to wild conclusions, and I’m sorry.” Her eyes were glassy as she turned back to me. “How can I trust you?” she blurted.
I stared at her, trying to memorize everything about her because I knew this was it. I was going to walk out of here, and that would be the end of it. “I can’t expect you to. But I haven’t lied to you once.”
“I still can’t do this. I can’t lose my head. I’ve got a business to run.”
“Thought I was helping you do that.”
She rubbed her forehead and looked even more pained than when we first walked in. “You were, but I can’t lose my head.”
“You’ve said that. And why the hell not? I’m ready to do just that—to go forward, jumping with both feet, head spinning all the way. I think we’ve got something?—”
“I was a mess yesterday afternoon after I saw you in Fairview. I can’t be that way. I have a?—”
“Business to run. Right.”
“I have my sisters to take care of.” She waved her arm, and I sensed that she was working hard to hold back tears. Something told me she was skilled at stopping tears—the older sister who could never show vulnerability in front of her younger sisters.
“I’ve met them, and they all seem like perfectly rational, well-rounded adults. Maybe you’re hanging on to the idea that they need you, but in reality, some of those big sister chains should have fallen away years ago. You’re keeping them there because?—”
“You don’t know anything! My grandmother made me promise—” She dropped her face into her hands. Her shoulders shook.
“And you did a great job. You fulfilled that promise, Aria. But maybe it’s time to let that responsibility go.”
She sniffled and wiped abruptly at her tears. “You’ve never had a real sibling relationship. You don’t know anything about it.” She rolled in her bottom lip as if she wished she could take back the words. I couldn’t hide that it felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach.
“It wasn’t from lack of trying, Aria. But you’re wrong. I do have a sibling. He just didn’t grow up in the same household. And you’re right. This isn’t the right time or place for either of us. I have to help Quinn and his family. Then I’ll leave Whisper Cove, just like Kellan predicted.”
“That’s for the best,” she said weakly as I headed to the exit. “Then all these dangerous looking people can leave, too.”
I stopped at the door. My heart was in shreds, and that gut-punch feeling hadn’t left, but her words hit me from behind with force. I spun back. “What dangerous looking people?”
She seemed surprised by my reaction. “I figured you knew they were here. Two men, one as big as you. After I saw you”—she paused—“I was upset. I went to the cottage to be with my sisters. We were making s’mores, and we saw a flashlight down on the beach. I thought it was you, so I walked down—I was going to confront you and tell you this was over—but it was a scary looking man with a scar and a leering gaze.”
Every muscle in my body tensed. “Did he touch you?” I could barely get the words out from between my clenched jaw.
My reaction scared her. I chastised myself for having such an instant, profound response to the notion that someone might have hurt Aria.
“I ran back to the house, and we waited inside until we saw them leave the beach.”
Trouble, it stuck to me like bees on honey. “I’m sorry about that. I’m going to take care of it right now.” Our gazes locked in that charged way that had been happening almost since the first time we met. “I hope you find a decent cook soon, and I promise to get out of town as soon as I settle things for Quinn.”
This time I left without looking back. My steps were heavy, and it felt as if I’d just left my last bit of luck back in that café. I was an idiot. I knew damn well that Aria was too good for me, out of my league, but I let myself believe it could happen, that we could be together. I had to put all that behind me. I needed to find those jerks on the motorcycles and chase them the hell out of town.