Chapter Nineteen
Aiden
Turns out Alice wanted to wait until I saw Pops for myself before we told the girls that he is close to the end.
They didn’t take it well. Celia went straight into denial, the same way I did, she asked about new medications or admitting him to a hospital somewhere to make him better.
It made me sick to watch her break down.
Eden went straight for rage. She yelled, mainly at Alice, about us keeping it from them.
She was mad that Alice has known for weeks and I have known for a few days and kept them out of the loop.
She hates that we still treat them like kids but it’s hard to see them as grown-ups when, every time I look at them, I see those crying girls at our parents’ funeral.
Alice let her yell, we both knew she needed to get it out before she could engage in a rational conversation.
Eventually Eden got tired from yelling and flopped onto the couch where Cece sat quietly sobbing.
She took our youngest sister into her arms as they cried together.
I had no joke or comment that could make this better.
I felt so useless and with Lyndsey waiting upstairs because she said we needed to do this as a family, I wanted nothing more than to hide with her.
Instead I had to take charge, I moved over to the sofa and wrapped my arms around them as their sobs turned to sniffles.
As much as they hate it, they know we wouldn’t lie to them and that we would have done everything in our power to help Pops if we could.
Since then we have all clung to each other and spent most nights together talking or watching TV as we all work through our thoughts.
Lyndsey has been here for all of that. Cece has clutched on to her a lot.
Eden is still a little mad at Alice so she has been mainly by my side as Alice has spent all of her free time snapping photographs of the sunsets around our childhood home.
That’s why finding a minute alone in a house with four women, three of which are my sisters, is a difficult task.
Basically impossible. Unless I’m in the bathroom there is always someone around.
When it’s Lyndsey I don’t mind the company, but Alice wants to talk about what happens when Pops dies and that’s too much for me right now.
Eden wants to talk about the kids she teaches in her first-grade class, I think she is trying to do the opposite to Alice but there are only so many kid stories I can listen to, especially when it makes me a little homesick for Jack and Charlotte – those kids have a place in my heart that Eden’s students don’t.
Celia is quieter than normal but that’s because she is researching for an interview, every second she is typing away and the click-clack of her laptop keys is driving me slowly crazy.
Earlier today the three girls went to visit Pops themselves.
Now that we know he really is close to the end every minute with him is precious.
Cece is still in denial, thinking some miracle drug is going to come out at the last minute and save him.
Alice and Eden are more resigned to the truth now.
We are about to lose the final parental figure in our lives.
The only thing I was looking forward to was getting time alone with Lyndsey, but she keeps managing to escape me.
If she is alone watching TV and I walk in suddenly her phone will chime and she’ll excuse herself.
When she was sitting on the porch swing alone and I brought her some iced tea she swung her legs up to take up the whole bench, leaving me nowhere to sit.
I left her alone only because I was confused.
I thought things were shifting between us somehow.
Between meeting Pops and our almost kiss in the parking lot I convinced myself we might be able to pull this off.
She must be an amazing actress because, when the girls are around, Lyndsey reminds me of how she was when things were more familiar between us.
Back when Ellis was on bed rest and I did my best to convince Lyndsey to go on a date with me.
That was until I was told to back off. I did and yet we still ended up here anyway.
Each morning as we eat breakfast, I make Lynds her coffee – no sugars because she is sweet enough – and she plates up my food from whatever selection Alice has made.
Every time, Alice smirks at me knowingly but I pay her no mind.
I’m too happy with the domestic flow between me and my temporary wife.
Whenever the girls are around, I take the opportunity to have my hands on her.
Whether it’s a hand on her back or a light kiss to her forehead, I love giving her physical affection.
I tell her it’s just because I’m a physical guy and it’s true but still I have never been around a woman long enough to have an excuse to touch them.
Now I’m taking what I can while I can. Because as soon as we are alone, she demands space between us.
Time where she doesn’t have to pretend to enjoy being my wife.
I have to remember that, even if there is growing tension between us, we are not going to be husband and wife forever.
I never pictured marrying the girl. Hell, I don’t think I ever seriously considered marriage in the distant future.
But being married hasn’t been quite as terrible as I imagined it.
I pictured arguing and a very dry sex life and I only have half of those things.
I haven’t slept with my wife but I don’t think it would be a bad thing if we did.
We could both scratch that itch and release the tension that has been between us for over a year.
Though it will be hard to convince her to give in with my sisters right down the hall.
Right now, though, I have found a slight reprieve from the tension.
I had to offer to make dinner for it to happen, but small wins.
There are a few dishes I have mastered: my beef roast is one of my best, and I know it is Celia’s favourite too.
When I offered to cook, the girls basically dragged Lyndsey outside to drink some wine while they gave her all the small-town gossip about people she will probably never meet.
She looks like she is having fun, when she isn’t staring at her phone with a frown.
I can see them all through the big picture window in the kitchen.
The setting sun bounces off Lyndsey’s hair, making her glow as she throws her head back in laughter.
Despite the fake romance we’re putting on, my chest feels settled seeing her fitting in like this.
I knew they would approve of her, there is nothing they wouldn’t approve of.
I know she was worried about her sexuality, but that was just her old southern prejudice that was causing her anxiety.
There is nothing to worry about, of course.
But no matter how much I told her she would be fine, she had to see it to believe it.
More than that, she just fits in. Fake wife or not. Her jabs and teasing smiles, the way she can calm me with one touch is unlike anything I have experienced before.
On top of it all, I can see how free she seems here.
Whenever she puts her phone down, that is.
Her phone fills her with tension and I’m not sure why but if I try to bring it up she changes the subject.
I thought at first it might have been because of the online backlash that came when our marriage was announced, there were a few overzealous female fans who were picking her apart.
She said it wasn’t that though, and I believe her, she actually laughed at some of those comments – apparently, if these women knew me in real life they wouldn’t like me as much.
At least that’s what Lyndsey thinks, that knowing that I’m not the growly man I am on the ice in real life would burst their bubble.
She is probably right, those fans don’t know me.
They see the way I act on the ice, protective of my team.
They see what I want them to see off the ice, the funny, happy guy releasing the tension even after a loss.
But Lyndsey sees more, and she is with me basically twenty-four-seven, so I’ll let her keep her secrets for now but only because, when she does put her phone down, she is so fully indulging in life.
She is wearing her hair down more and wearing the sexiest little sundresses – don’t get me wrong, she would look beautiful in a potato sack, but seeing her wearing dresses instead of skintight jeans is a change I’m enjoying.
I’m so distracted by the thought of my wife’s creamy-white skin fanned by flowing fabric that I don’t hear her walk in. It’s not until she is right beside me rubbing a hand up my spine that I notice her.
“Smells yummy, you need any help?” Her hair smells like coconut and that alone makes her more delicious than whatever food I’m making.
“No, I’m good, darlin’. You enjoying yourself?” I ask, dropping the knife and turning my attention to her.
“Your sisters are a hoot, are you sure they are related to you?” She nudges my ribs. I can see redness on her cheeks – caused by either the wine or the sun, I’m not sure.
“You found my secret.” I roll my eyes, making her laugh brightly.
“I knew it, you’re lucky Alice looks so much like you.” She goes to walk away but I’m not ready to lose her yet so I move to stand in front of her, forcing her back against the edge of the countertop.
“Aiden, what are you doing?” I see her throat work as she swallows.
“I’m thanking you.” I pick up a piece of her rose-gold hair, curling it around my finger. The strands are soft and shiny, perfectly her.
“For what?” Our voices have dropped low and I love it. There is tension in her voice but I see the way her pupils blow wide as she looks up at me.
“I haven’t decided yet, I just wanted to look at you.” I bring my face closer to her, almost whispering against her ear.
“Aiden…” Her voice is weak. I know the feeling.
“Fuck, darlin’, you smell like heaven and hell combined.” I bury my face into her shoulder. Smelling the mix of coconut in her hair and sunshine on her skin makes me weak in the knees.
“Maybe we should…” Her protest falls away as my lips find her pulse; it hammers against my lips, causing me to smile.
“I need more of it, Lynds.” My hand comes up to grip the hair at the back of her head, tipping her head back so there is more skin available to me.
“Aiden, we are blurring the lines, it’s not smart.” Yet she doesn’t tell me to stop. She can’t, she wants this too. Lyndsey wants my hands on her, wants my lips on her skin, and it drives me crazy.
“I think we should erase the lines altogether, wife,” I tease.
“That would be complicated.” Her throat works under my lips and she gulps down air.
“Maybe, but it would be good too. We don’t have to make it complicated, we do what we want now and then leave it in Texas when the time comes to leave.” My nose slides up and down her neck from the join of her shoulder right to the soft skin behind her ear.
“This is fake. We need boundaries.” Her hands come up to my chest and, if she pushes me away, I’ll go. But that’s not what she does. She grips the plaid fabric, tightly holding me right there against her.
“Fuck boundaries.’” I kiss her skin again, smirking at the low moan that escapes her. “Is our marriage legal? Yes. Is my ring on your finger? Yes. We just need to give in.”
“Fuck! I can’t, Aiden.” Her voice is a high whine but she doesn’t let me go.
“Admit it. There is tension here, darlin’.” I pull away then, to look in her eye. I want to see her lie to me, want her to know I’m seeing through whatever bullshit she is going to try to spin.
“Yes, okay, there is tension.” She never fails to shock me. “But we are getting divorced in a few months, tension or not. Then we will be going home and we will be around our friends again and it will just be too hard.”
“I’m pretty hard already. Who cares about when we get back, we should enjoy it now.
” I grind my hips into her then, my jeans are tented as I rub against the softness of her stomach.
Lyndsey blinks up at me, biting her lip as a beautiful flush paints over her chest and neck.
“Imagine what it would be like, you and me. It would be fireworks.” Letting go of the hair at the back of her head, my hand moves around to hold her jaw, the callousness of my hands are a polar opposite to her supple skin.
“I have imagined it, okay! It would be explosive and explosive is dangerous.” Well, well, well, my beautiful wife is not as indifferent as she might want me to believe.
Before I have a chance to reply her phone pings loudly from her bra.
Using the distraction to push space between us she pulls it out even though we both know it won’t be important.
If it was important, whoever it is would have called not texted.
She can run but now I know. My wife wants me and she is going to get me, soon.
When she reads the text, I see the colour that was just there drain before my eyes.
Whoever is texting her has fully pulled her away from the moment we had.
I’m pissed at them not just for that but because there is fear in her eyes.
It isn’t fear of the feelings between us but I don’t know what type of fear it is.
“Lyndsey? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Excuse me, I, erm, I need to use the restroom.” Then she is off.
All but running away towards the stairs.
I would like to think she needs to cool down because of the heat between us but I’m not delusional.
She is running because of her phone. And she is going to put a wall up between us now.
I had one moment where I thought she would fall with me, but she is holding me at arm’s length.
I may have pushed her too far. I know I was coming on strong but that, mixed with whatever is happening on that damn phone, is going to cause a rift between us.
That ping gave Lyndsey an excuse to get out of my arms but there is no way that will work forever.
Eventually she is going to have to decide if she is ready to try and see what could happen if we slipped beneath the sheets or if she wants to keep those damn lines clear.
At least now she knows which one I want, there is no hiding it now.
I want my wife in my bed and she knows it. The ball is in her court.
I’m a stupid, stupid man.