Chapter 8
My phone buzzed, and I looked down at the readout before hitting ignore. There was no reason for me to answer that call. Honestly, there was no reason even to send them to voicemail. They would know I ignored the call, and they would leave another ranting voicemail, just like the others. I would delete it like always because I didn’t want to hear their voices. They bothered me every once in a while and would continue to do so until our dying days, because they could, and no matter what I did, they’d keep doing it. I also didn’t want to fill up my mailbox when I needed to save space, because it was the only way I could hear her voice.
The sun had begun to set over the hills as I stood on the property, the day settling on my shoulders and my shift over.
I hadn’t expected to like living here. I had just needed a change when I went to my cousin Elliot and asked for a job. I needed a new place. Then I had gone to Trace and offered my services. Trace needed help with the security of the retreat, and I was damn good at my job.
It meant that I had to answer to others, but because my brothers and I had bought the property attached to the retreat, we were all in it. We all had our names on the deed and were part of this.
Even if it felt odd, as if this were only temporary. But it didn’t feel as temporary as it had before. How could it when we had put down roots? A literal foundation, in Wyatt’s case. He built an entire bar and distillery on the property. We had used the template from my cousins’ friend Roy, but we were making our own Texas-based vodka and selling it locally. With the way Wyatt planned, there would likely be Wilder Vodka and more in grocery stores around the country. I wasn’t quite sure we’d make it that far, but we’d try.
My cousin Eliza’s family was distantly connected to a whiskey distillery, and so Collins Whiskey from a town up in Pennsylvania had sent over one of the brothers and helped us set up. Between our family and Eliza’s, it seemed we had enough connections that we could pretty much build anything we wanted. Hence the winery, distillery, and so much more. We were a full multimillion-dollar operation, and it felt weird that it was my job to keep it safe.
Though sometimes it felt as if I wasn’t keeping my people safe.
I nodded at some guests who walked by, drinks in hand, on their way to one of the evening events. It was a retirement party of some sort, complete with a cake that looked damn delicious. I had tasted a few of Aurora’s goods, and I was glad that she had been hired. I was a man who liked cake. I liked baked goods. But the fact that it was Aurora making them? That might be a problem because I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
I looked at my phone again and pressed play on a recording that I had heard countless times.
“Hey, babe, just got back from the doctor, we have a new photo of the baby! I’ll see you soon. I know the parade tonight is going to be long and tedious, especially with two high school bands competing. But it’s a tradition and I’m so glad that you’re going to be there. I love you.”
I listened to it one more time, but the familiar sense of heartache and loss wasn’t as strong. That was Heather’s voice. I hadn’t been able to make it to that sonogram, though I had been there for the first one. I had been called in for an emergency where I had nearly come to blows with the owner of the building we were trying to protect.
I had missed the second sonogram of our child, but I had held the picture in my hand that afternoon.
It fell out of my hand at the first sound of gunshots. The screams confirmed that something was wrong and when the car had barreled towards us, I had dropped the photo of our child so I could try to protect Heather.
And it hadn’t been enough.
I had lost everything that day, and I was just now figuring out if I had anything left.
I didn’t know what was going to happen next, how long I would stay here, how long I would need to, but coming here was the best thing I could have done. Even if that meant I had to ignore phone calls. There was nothing they could say that I hadn’t already told myself.
“Ridge?”
I turned, my shoulders stiffening at the sound of her voice.
Aurora was wearing dove gray pants, comfortable shoes that looked like Crocs or like some form of clog. They weren’t the sexiest shoe ever, but she bounced in them. She had on this three-quarter-length white shirt over a gray tank top, and somehow that made her look younger and more carefree than I had ever seen her. In the days since she started working for the Wilders, she had brightened up. Even after her former sister-in-law had made a scene.
The only reason I had even stayed back and hadn’t said anything to that woman was because Aurora had asked me not to. And I hadn’t minded, because seeing Aurora stand up for herself had done something to me.
I knew she had pain from her past, but I hadn’t realized we had so much in common beyond loss.
We had the travesty and anger of others at our sides when we hadn’t asked for it.
I had wanted to ask her why. Why her sister-in-law hated her and what happened. But it wasn’t my place.
I needed to get away from her—because I wanted her.
And that was a problem. I wanted Aurora. Maybe it shouldn’t be a problem. We were both adults, as free as we were allowed to be with our pasts winding their spindly fingers around our necks.
“Aurora. How was the kitchen today?”
She put her hands on her hips, the action pushing her chest out so I could see more of her cleavage. I made sure my gaze was on her face and not anywhere below her neck. I couldn’t be that asshole. I shouldn’t want her.
I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to do that either.
“It was good. I saw you sneak a piece of that chocolate cake.”
My face went expressionless. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I can neither confirm nor deny I was anywhere near that cake.”
She smirked. “I hear things. You might be the eyes of the operation, the all-seeing security specialist, but I know my cake.”
“It had fudge frosting. It was damn good cake.”
“Wasn’t it? Recently the cakes I have been doing were all planned by my predecessor, but soon the desserts will be all me. I love this job. Everything is so different. I get to work on a variety of little things that culminate into this amazing moment for someone. They’re making memories and I’m making cake and I love it.” She shook her head, laughing softly. “And I am apparently in need of something to eat I guess, because here I am, rambling about baked goods when you’re probably out here either working or needing some space. I’m sorry, Ridge. I just really love my job. And I didn’t think I was ever going to get that satisfaction again.”
“So, you had a good day then,” I said, a smile crawling across my face. “I did too. Didn’t have to break up a single fistfight or break a camera. No paparazzi, no drama, just a damn good day. And I had some fantastic cake.”
Her smile brightened her face, and I wanted to keep that smile on her face for as long as possible.
I wasn’t sure if I was the guy for that job, but part of me wanted to be.
“It really was damn good cake. And a great day. I was going to go get some of that cold fried chicken and potato salad that Kendall left for me. Do you want to join me? Unless you have other plans. I just don’t want to head home yet, because the traffic right now is going to be a nightmare.”
I frowned. “How far is the drive?”
“An hour, hour and a half with traffic. I can get it down to forty minutes though if I wait about an hour to leave. So I’m going to eat dinner here, and then head out.”
I shook my head. “That’s too far of a drive.”
“Not in Texas terms. It’s okay. My car gets good gas mileage, and if I have to stay too late because of a brioche or a design that’s going to take forever, I can stay in one of the cabins or at the inn. It’s not ideal, but this is worth it. Honestly, this is so much better than working out of my own kitchen at home.”
She bounced in those clogs of hers, and I shook my head. “We need to find a way to make that work better for you.”
“Yes well, with the housing market as it is, I’m going to be keeping my tiny little house for a while. There’s no way I can afford anything else right now. But anyway, I’m going to go get something to eat. You don’t have to join if you don’t want to, but I thought I’d offer. Mostly because my stomach is growling so loud, I’m pretty sure you can hear it.”
I had been able to, but I shrugged. “Kendall makes some really good fried chicken.”
“And it’s cold, which is the best fried chicken unless it’s directly out of the fryer. There’s just something about cold fried chicken outside on a blanket with the breeze in your hair after a hot Texas day.”
“I don’t know, have you ever had cold fried chicken on a beach?”
“I haven’t. Doesn’t sand get everywhere?”
We headed towards the employees’ area of the kitchen, walking side by side, our hands nearly brushing.
“Sand can be an issue, but if you eat it quick enough, it isn’t. And isn’t that protein or something?”
She threw her head back as she laughed, looking gorgeous as ever, and I swallowed hard, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.
Nobody was in the kitchen when we went in, and we grabbed a couple of sparkling waters, potato salad, fried chicken, and a small veggie tray that Aurora put together in no time.
“I figured I should probably eat my vegetables. You know, minerals and all.”
“And maybe vitamins too.”
I had no idea what I was doing, or why she’d even offered, but I wanted to. I’d deal with the consequences later.
On our way out, I picked up one of the outdoor blankets that were beside the door for guests and gestured towards the hill in front of us.
“Pick a seat, and let’s eat some dinner.”
“This place is beautiful. I hate the phrase ‘things happen for a reason,’ but maybe some things really do happen for a reason. Or maybe I’m finally living in the moment.”
I shook out the blanket, and then we were piling the food on top of it, both of us keeping far enough apart that we weren’t touching but could still eat in relative peace.
We were out of the way of any prying eyes from the inn and any of my family members. As soon as I sat down, I realized this felt like a date, and we weren’t date people. Were we?
No, this was just food while we waited for traffic to die down so she could go home. But I didn’t need any questions from my siblings. Especially when I wasn’t sure I had any answers to give.
“Okay, I have no idea what she puts in the breading, but I’m going to go beg her to make some more.”
“We can take turns begging. Because oh my God, I love it.” She smacked her lips together, and I grinned, shaking my head. “You know what would be good with this?”
“Chocolate cake,” we said at the same time, and she giggled.
“I ate too much cake today when I was prepping, plus I had two tastings today, and both of the clients wanted me to eat with them.”
“And I had two slices of cake earlier.”
Her eyes widened. “Two?”
“See? I see all and know all. Because you only know about the one piece.”
“Diabolical.”
Her voice trailed off as she watched the sun set. The fairy lights and walkway lanterns started lighting up so the place was still safe enough to walk around, but not bright enough to ruin the stars.
“I wanted to thank you, for before.”
I looked over at her. “For what?”
She met my gaze, a wry smile covering her face. “Don’t act coy. For yesterday. For backing me up when I needed it, and for being there when I needed the help. You somehow found the perfect balance of support and letting me handle it, and I didn’t even have to say a word.”
I shrugged, looking down at the blanket between us. “I’m curious though. Why didn’t you just punch her and tell her to leave you the fuck alone?”
Aurora let out a small laugh but sobered quickly. “Because that wouldn’t do anything. I’m trying to start over. Putting my fist in my former sister-in-law’s face wouldn’t help.”
I raised a brow. “It might help a little.”
“I met William when we were in high school,” she began, and I froze, knowing that she needed to tell the story, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear it. We had both experienced loss, but she didn’t know my story.
No one did.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I whispered.
“No, I don’t mind. After this many years I don’t mind. It actually helps to tell the story, you know.” She looked away, as if she were seeing into the past, and maybe that’s what we both needed. “We met in high school. Sort of fell in love, but mostly just bonded over teenage anger and angst. We eventually fell in real love. Got married, and I joined the family business. William was an accountant and a businessman. He ran the bakery, and three other businesses that his family owned. He and his father were really good at that. They had just finished opening up a car dealership as well. I worked with my mother-in-law and sister-in-law at the bakery. I was a cake decorator and did the small intricate details because I was best at it. Something that my sister-in-law Lauren hated.”
“She sounds like a peach.”
“She was always a little jealous of the fact that I was a little bit better than her at some things. But she was happily married and a mom and had her own life. And then William and I were in a car accident. A drunk driver went across the road and hit us. I was driving.”
I hadn’t even realized I had reached out to grip her hand until she looked down at where I touched her, but I didn’t let go.
“I was hurt, I broke my arm, which meant cake decorating was going to take some time to get back to. I was bruised and had a lacerated spleen. But William died. I lived and he died. It took me a few years to be able to breathe when I said that.”
“What about your family?”
“They came down to help. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything without my mother. My parents have lives and jobs up north, but they put everything on hold and came down to make sure I was safe. They wanted to take me home with them, but for some reason I thought that staying here and not upending my life when my life was already upended would be helpful. I thought I had a job here and that my in-laws needed me. But that wasn’t the case.”
“What happened?” I asked gently.
“When I was finally ready to go in and bake with one hand, and had enough energy to stand for hours even though I felt like I was dead inside, my sister-in-law took me aside and said that she couldn’t fire me but I wasn’t welcome there anymore. She couldn’t look at me anymore. I remember her speech word-for-word, and I still hate her for it even though I only feel pity now.”
“What did she say?” An uneasy feeling filled my gut.
“She said that every time she sees me, she’s reminded that she’s mourning. That her brother wasn’t there. That he spent his last years with me and not with them. He was theirs first. And she couldn’t look at me and not see her baby brother. The little boy who laughed when she played with him. And he was gone and I was there, and she couldn’t hate me but wanted to.”
Anger slammed into me, a familiar ache that made me want to lash out and shake those people for daring to hurt her. But it wasn’t my place. “How fucking selfish.”
“Yeah. It was. I had to start over from my house. Start over with everything. I had to move because I needed a new start, but I didn’t move far. My best friend and her family were there, and William was still there. At least the memories. I needed some of them, just not all of them. So, that’s my story and why my in-laws suck. And this is a new beginning for me. I feel like it’s a new beginning. I needed this. I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”
The sadness was gone from her gaze, replaced by a purpose, a light and a joy that I hadn’t seen in her before.
And even though she had just told me of her sadness, of her pain, it was that joy that brought me in. I leaned forward and cupped her face.
She paused and looked up at me before nodding ever so slightly, giving permission before I could even ask. I brushed my lips against hers, once, twice, and then deeper. My tongue darted out and tangled with hers as she moaned into me.
She tasted of our dinner, of cake, of Aurora. She tasted of sweetness.
When I pulled away and pressed my forehead to hers, we were both breathing heavily, just a kiss, with so much wound around it.
“Well.”
She looked up at me and tilted her head.
“Well.”
She sat back and drank a big gulp of her water. I did the same, wondering if I had made a mistake.
“So, what’s your cake for tomorrow?” I asked, changing the subject. She gave me a grateful look, and then we talked cake.
And nothing else. At least for now.