Chapter 13Aiden
Chapter Thirteen
Aiden
Leaning against the weathered marina gate, my hands were fidgety, a stark contrast to the languid sway of the boats moored in their slips. It was almost five and my pulse thrummed in an anxious rhythm. Beside me, the water shimmered like spilled mercury in the golden light, and every ripple felt like it echoed in my chest.
When I turned back to the parking lot, my lungs froze. Stella walked toward me, her strides confident, her glossy dark hair catching sunbeams that slipped through the palm fronds. Dressed in a simple lavender shirt and denim shorts, she was the epitome of understated elegance. My heart skipped, lodged somewhere in my throat as she approached.
“Hey there,” Stella greeted with a casualness that belied the electricity sparking through the air.
“G-good evening.” At least my mouth only stumbled a little when I greeted her. “Glad you could make it.”
We started down the dock, our footsteps making rhythmic thuds on the seasoned planks. Boat by boat, we passed the small community of fishermen and sea lovers, each vessel tethered to its own little piece of the marina’s world. Though it was a near-empty world as the day wound down.
“Here she is,” I announced, coming to a halt beside my beauty.
“She’s really nice.” Her experienced eye skipped over the boat and the admittedly roughhewn deck.
“Thanks.” Warmth and pride bloomed in my chest. “I want her to feel like new, you know? She’s a classic Gulfstar 37, and I’m refinishing the teak decking.” As we stepped aboard, I pointed out the sanded wood beneath our feet. “It’s taking forever, but I enjoy the work. She’s got great character, and I’m trying to preserve that.”
“Character’s important.” Stella traced her fingers along the curved railing I’d sanded down to perfection.
“Each plank has its story. Like us, I guess.” I smiled, but now that she was here, my insides were a tangled mess of hope and history. I gestured toward the stern where the setting sun painted everything with hues of tangerine and rose. “And see here? I reinforced the rudder mount. No shortcuts, all craftsmanship.”
Oh my God. I’m babbling!
“Looks solid.” She leaned slightly over the edge to peer at the structure. Her proximity sent a fresh wave of awareness coursing through me, the subtle scent of her roaring through my senses.
“Doesn’t she deserve a name?” Stella asked, peering at the blank space where the name should be.
“Well, that’s a work in progress.” I rubbed the back of my neck with a sheepish grin. “I have a few ideas, but nothing concrete yet. It’ll come to me.” Nothing seemed to encapsulate all the dreams I had for this boat.
“Fair enough. She looks seaworthy, that’s for sure.”
“Seaworthy and ready for adventure. Just like her new crew member,” I said with a teasing lilt, waiting to see if she’d respond in kind or be pissed at me.
“New crew member?” Stella’s eyes sparkled, and my stomach unclenched. “I just got done working two jobs. I had to give notice at Blue Nirvana in Key West in addition to starting at Orchid. So I’ll stick with chef for now.”
“Chef, then. The part you were made to play.” Part of me yearned to see her on this boat beside me, wind in her hair, the way I often pictured in those quiet moments alone with my thoughts.
“Still, you’ve got to give her a name,” Stella pressed, a playful challenge in her voice as she leaned against the stern wall. “You’re not superstitious about it? Renaming a boat?”
“Superstitions be damned.” I laughed, shaking my head. “The stern was so weathered when I got her, any name that was there is long gone. I picked her up at an auction in Key West right after I arrived.” I stroked the freshly sanded railing, feeling the smooth wood under my hand. “Besides, I like to think she’s getting a fresh start with me.”
“Fresh starts.” Stella’s words held weight—a shared understanding that resonated deep within me.
“Exactly,” I replied, and our gazes locked for a long moment. She was so beautiful, with a hint of something… maybe vulnerability, hiding in her gaze.
Breaking the trance, my eyes dropped to her bandaged hand. “Let’s have a look at that.” We sat on the padded bench near the stern. Gently taking her hand in mine, I unwrapped the gauze and examined the healing cut, the black stitches neat and even.
“Looks like it’s healing well.” I unconsciously traced the lines of her palm with my thumb before I caught myself. “You should come by the clinic on Friday, and I’ll take the stitches out.”
“Thanks. I’ll do that,” she said softly, her hand warm in mine.
After rewrapping the gauze, I lingered a moment longer than necessary, reacquainting myself with the feel of her skin. I released her hand with reluctance, and the absence left a cold void. To cover my discomfort, I pushed to my feet and picked up a hand sander.
Stella rose to stand by me. “What do you need help with?” Her voice was eager, and she was already rolling up her sleeves.
“The two current tasks are varnishing and sanding the deck up here,” I said as if presenting the two tasks like choices on a menu. With her cut being on her left hand, neither should present much difficulty for her. “Take your pick.”
“Varnishing,” she decided with a decisive nod and twirled her hair into a messy bun with a casual, efficient grace I found extremely sexy. It would be so easy to undo that knot of hair and rush my hands through her tresses.
“Here you go.” I handed her a paintbrush. As she took it from me, her fingers grazed mine, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm. Stirrings and emotions were definitely waking up in me, and I wasn’t sure yet if that was good or bad. Masking the sensation with a smile, I moved to continue my work on a rough patch I had been tackling earlier.
We fell into a rhythm, the sound of my sanding block scraping against the boat’s deck pairing with the gentle swish of Stella’s brush. The sharp tang of varnish filled my nostrils, mingling with the salty breeze. Waves lapped against the hull in a soothing cadence, underscoring the quiet that settled between us, a comfortable silence punctuated by our shared task.
I stole glances at Stella as we worked, studying the way her brow furrowed in concentration, or how a loose strand of hair would occasionally dance across her face before she’d blow it away with a huff. Being here with her, doing something so simple, made me feel like I was finding pieces of myself I hadn’t even realized were missing.
“Looks good, if I do say so myself,” she said after a while, standing back to admire our handiwork. She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a faint streak of varnish.
“You’re a natural.” I gave her a lazy smile and returned to my sanding, deciding we were on solid enough footing to fish for some updates on her life. “Blue Nirvana,” I said between long strokes. “That’s always been one of the hottest restaurants around. Did you like working there?”
Stella set down her brush and stretched, rolling her shoulders back. I took a deep breath as her shirt stretched over the full curve of her breasts. “It was the best apprenticeship I could’ve asked for. Taught me more about cooking than any class ever did.” Her eyes caught the last flicker of light, and I saw a glimmer there that hadn’t been present earlier.
“Life lessons in Key West, huh?” I laughed, imagining a younger, carefree Stella navigating through throngs of tourists and sea-salted adventures.
“Something like that. And what about you? Medical school must have been interesting.”
I paused, the memory surfacing like a buoyant thought. “Well, there was this one time during my OB rotation…”
The story slipped out effortlessly, an anecdote involving a fellow student prank and a doll that had Stella laughing, her head thrown back and the sound mingling with the waves. As our laughter subsided, the evening settled around us. The moon rose, casting a silver path across the water, guiding us into the night.
“I’m starving,” Stella said, staring at the stairs leading into the cabin. “Do you have a working galley on this thing?”
“Yeah, but I don’t have much in the way of gourmet food on board. The marina market doesn’t exactly scream haute cuisine.”
She shrugged, the marina’s lights playing off her sly smile. “I can make a meal out of anything. Trust me.”
I grinned back. “If anyone can, it’s you. But you might be stuck with macaroni and cheese along with a can of pork and beans.”
“Challenge accepted.”
I shook my head, amused by her confidence, and we made our way to the small store nestled at the edge of the marina. The shelves were half-stocked, the produce less than perfect. But Stella moved through the aisles with purpose, selecting ingredients with a magician’s flair.
“Are you sure about this?” I eyed the eclectic assortment in our basket as we headed toward the front of the store. “We could pick up something from Conch Republic. ”
“Positive,” she replied, not missing a beat. “I’ve got everything I need.”
At the checkout, I slid my card before she could protest. “In that case, dinner’s on me.”
The galley below deck was tight but serviceable. With deft hands and a concentration that drew me in, she maneuvered around the small stove like it was her own gourmet setup at Orchid. The sizzle of vegetables hitting the pan mixed with the tangy scent of a lone orange she’d found and savory herbs, creating an aroma that was downright seductive.
“Can I help with anything?” I leaned against the bulkhead that separated the galley from the bedroom, captivated by her ease in this culinary dance. Even as a teenager, her love for cooking had been evident. But what I saw now was a seasoned professional, at home in her element.
“Sure. You want to set the table?” she replied without looking up, her focus never wavering from the task at hand.
“I can do that. We’ll eat upstairs.” After tossing a blanket down on a section of varnished deck, I laid out the plates and cutlery. The wood gleamed under the soft glow of lights lining the dock.
Dinner was a simple affair but nothing short of spectacular. We sat opposite each other, sharing stories between bites of the delectable meal she conjured from the market’s humble offerings. A late fisherman had brought in a snook that had made Stella light up, and she found a bag of salad greens that were still in date. The rest was a mix of crackers, scraggly vegetables, and herbs that somehow melded into perfection. Her laughter was warm, spilling over us in waves, and I found myself drawn into the comfort of her presence. How naturally she fit into this setting. With me.
“Did you learn to cook like this from the resort chefs?”
“Partly.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But mostly afterward. First culinary school, and then Blue Nirvana.”
“You were always meant to be a chef. This proves it even more.”
After dinner, we cleared the plates and settled back with the rest of the bottle of wine we’d opened. Also her choice—a rich, surprisingly good blend considering the dusty bottle came from the market. The ruby-colored wine complemented the lingering flavors of our meal. As the stars above us glinted, we reclined on the blanket, the bottle passing smoothly between us as we refilled our glasses. Every brush of her fingers against mine sent a current through my body, and I fought to keep my longing in check. Her hands were both strong and feminine—an incredibly sexy combination that only made me want to discover the rest of her even more.
Rediscover her.
“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Stella’s gaze followed the path of a shooting star, exposing the length of her supple neck.
“Stunning,” I replied softly.
My eyes lifted to study her profile, the way her lips curved ever so slightly, the gentle rise and fall of her chest with each breath. She turned to stare at me, her eyes dark pools of desire, and I didn’t drop my gaze. As her full lips parted slightly, I leaned closer, helpless to resist her magnetic pull. Her breath caught audibly as I reached out, my fingertips softly grazing her flushed cheek. Desire roared through me, pent-up longing that had been building for over a decade.
I closed the distance between us, my lips hovering a hairsbreadth from hers. Her soft, warm breaths danced tantalizingly over my mouth. When our lips finally met, our kiss was a joining of past regrets and present desire. Her hand came to rest against my chest, fingers splaying over my pounding heart as she stroked in long, sweeping motions. And the control I’d been fighting so hard to maintain crumbled. With a deep groan, I finally reached up and pulled out her hairband, sending that glossy dark mane tumbling over her shoulders.
“Yes, Stella.”
My words came out deep and gruff, hoarse with passion. I slanted my mouth to capture her lips more fully. Our mouths melded together seamlessly, hungrily. Her plump lips were impossibly soft yet insistent against mine, and I coaxed them open. She breathed a soft moan as our tongues met, tasting, exploring, stoking the flames higher. The electrifying heat was overwhelming, she was far more intoxicating than the wine we’d shared.
We kissed under the starlit sky, lost in the moment, and in each other, until there was only the avalanche of sensations. It was a remembrance of deep, pure intimacy from another lifetime, and a discovery of something entirely new. This was what I’d been missing. What I’d let go of and spent years regretting with every fiber of my being.
Then, with a gentle sigh, Stella’s lips stilled, remaining against mine as she pressed a single word against them. “Why?”
I knew what she was asking, and my heart plunged. She had every right to ask that question. The inevitable one. And looking back with the benefit of experience, my answer seemed so childish, so… ordinary.
So unworthy of the love we’d thought would last forever.
I pulled back to look her in the eye. “Because my parents were hell-bent on me being with the daughter of their friends. And I was too young and too scared to stand up to them. They moved back to Michigan for the sole reason of me attending college there, then medical school. I owed them everything.” The admission came out more vulnerable than I intended, but this was not the time for pride. I sat back and took another sip of wine. “I was afraid. Afraid of their expectations, of failing them. But in the end, I failed you.”
Her gaze held mine, unwavering and intense.
I rubbed a hand through my hair, trying to ground myself. “Mom and her best friend started pushing Ainsley and me together right away. At first, I was resistant. Of course I was. But Mom kept pointing out that a relationship between you and me couldn’t work. Our lives were going in such different directions. I read every one of your texts, your emails. But I was such a mess I couldn’t respond. And eventually, you stopped sending them.”
Stella shifted her position on the blanket but didn’t interrupt me. So I continued. “Ainsley and I began dating when I started college. We were in the same dorm.” I took a deep breath, not sure how she’d take this part. “We got married our senior year. I felt like I was on a train, but it was moving too fast to get off. Then I was consumed by medical school. During my second year, she told me she wanted to have a baby. I was flabbergasted—we could barely make ends meet, and she wanted to add another mouth? Things only grew more acrimonious as I continued through med school, then residency. We got divorced as soon as I started my internal medicine residency. The strife our marriage created caused a rift between me and my parents, my mother especially. I went two years without speaking to them. It’s only been in the past year or so that we’ve made up.”
I dared a glance at Stella, and her eyes held something I wasn’t expecting—compassion. “That’s not a happy story. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“You’re not the one who needs to apologize. I’m sorry for being a coward.” The words spilled from my mouth in a rush now. “I just felt like I was… trapped. Trapped by obligation to my parents who sacrificed so much. And obligation to Ainsley too, once we were together. That period after we moved seems so stupid now, and it caused so much pain. All because I didn’t have the balls to stand up for myself. You didn’t deserve that. Ending our relationship how I did is the biggest regret of my life.”
She took a deep breath, the seriousness etching deeper lines around her eyes. “It’s the biggest regret of mine too, Aiden.” Her voice was steady, but I could hear the tremor of old wounds beneath it. “I thought we were on the same page, were looking toward the same future. But all I got back was silence. You nearly destroyed me.”
Guilt twisted in my gut. Carefully, I reached out and took her hand, my thumb tracing the lines of her bandage. “I know I did. And I want to earn your forgiveness. Can we move forward?”
Stella stared at our entwined hands, her expression unreadable. “I’m not sure. I don’t have time for a serious relationship. My career comes first. It always has, and now I’ve finally got what I’ve spent years working for. Orchid. And you don’t exactly have a casual job either.”
I nodded, understanding the gravity of her words, but desperate to make a chink in that armor of hers. “No, but that doesn’t have to stop us.”
“I can see that you’re not the same boy who left. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to forgive and forget, Aiden.”
“I understand. Whatever you’re willing to give, I’ll take. I want… No, I need to make it up to you.” I cupped her cheek, and she didn’t pull back. “I need you to understand this. Whatever we do together, it will be on your terms. I owe you that. But I want you to know, I’m not giving up on us. Not this time. I will win you back, Stella.”