19. Aiden #2
“No, look, you’re right. I . . . misread the situation. And I should have responded to your message.”
She let out a short, bitter laugh. “Oh, you should have? ” Her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Yeah, well, I should have known better. Should have remembered that you only ever show up when it’s convenient for you. Or aren’t distracted by more interesting things.”
Aiden stilled.
That shouldn’t have hurt. But it did.
He almost said something cutting, something about how she had no idea what his life was like—how much pressure he was under, how many fires he was constantly putting out. But he swallowed it down.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
He’d tried to amend that side of himself, of course, but his reputation with his family and old friends like Isla existed for a reason.
But I hoped Isla saw me differently.
“I tried to call you, Isla. I just...my life is in shambles at the moment, and a deal critical to the business is hanging by a thread. I’ve been from London to Texas to New York, all while trying to work fifteen hours a day.
But I’m here, aren’t I? Would I be here if I wanted to ignore you?
Being here isn’t convenient, and I still came. ”
Her arms settled to her sides. “I suppose.”
He held his breath. That’s it? He’d expected her to fight him more.
“You’re not mad?”
She let out a deep sigh. “No. I was hurt, I guess. I know you called; I just didn’t want to talk. But it’s stupid. You’re busy, and you don’t owe me text messages. Our last few interactions have just been confusing. I didn’t know you were with Lola again. It threw me off.”
A sardonic chuckle left him. “I’m not with Lola. I don’t know what she told you, but the only time I saw her was on Saturday at a business brunch. In fact, I went out of my way to avoid Lola last week.” Her comment about Lola was curious, though.
Why would that throw Isla off? He peered at her. “Then you purposely avoided my calls? I thought you might be busy filming.”
She hugged her arms to her chest. “I mean, I was. But . . .” She furrowed her brow, stepping closer as she scanned his face. “So, you and Lola aren’t back together again?”
He almost smiled. The fact that this mattered to her—that it had worried her . . . felt like an encouragement he hadn’t known he was looking for.
And then, a deep stab went through his gut. I have to tell her about Vegas.
“No, we’re not. I swear it. Ask Mason if you’d like—he’s spent the whole of last week in an office handling negotiations with Lola and was at that brunch.
I’m here because . . . I had to see you.
You wouldn’t answer my bloody calls, so I’m here.
To talk to you. At the first break I’ve had in work.
And I’m sorry that I didn’t text. Truly. ”
That hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth, the relaxing of her posture . . . why am I suddenly paying such close attention to her every mannerism?
“Now you really have me curious. You flew all the way here to talk to me?” A divot formed between her brows.
Admitting that made him feel suddenly exposed. He nodded.
She tore her gaze from him. “Okay . . . about what?”
How was he fumbling this conversation so badly already?
Shite.
He drew a quick breath. “Let’s start over. Hello, Isla. I made it to Paris, after all. Is there any good place to eat around here? I’m starved.”
She choked out a laugh. “Oh, there’s no. . .never mind now, Aiden Camden. You’ve got my curiosity burning. What is it you want to talk about? No good conversation has ever started with the words we need to talk. ”
He cringed. “Why don’t we go somewhere more private?”
Turning, she glanced around the mostly empty surroundings and probably thought he was a lunatic. But she didn’t press him any further.
“Do you have a car?”
He nodded.
“Would you be willing to drive me so we don’t have to wait for everyone?”
“I can do that.”
She reached into the waistband of her skirt and pulled off her battery pack. “Help me take this off, will you?” She teased the hem of her shirt up, turning her back to him.
Aiden stepped closer, his pulse hammering in his throat as he reached for her. When his fingertips skimmed the bare skin of her waist, he inhaled sharply. Isla shouldn’t be having this effect on him.
Yet it was undeniable.
Focusing on the wire to the camera and microphone, he tugged it, but found it threaded under her bra. Deftly, he unhooked the bra clasps. She gasped, hugging her arms to her chest. “What are you doing?”
“Untangling the damn wire.”
“By taking my bra off?” She threw a laughing glance back at him. “I swear, Aiden. Every time I’m around you lately, some article of clothing seems to magically fall off me.”
Don’t think about it.
But dammit. The image of her, gorgeous and half naked in his bed, wasn’t that easy to scrub from his memory.
Impossible, actually.
He tore his gaze from her and finished with the wire, then hooked her bra once again.
She turned and grinned. “Thank you.” Quickly, she wound the wire around the battery pack, then hurried toward the van. After opening the door, she set the pack on the passenger seat and closed the door. “I’m all yours.”
She sauntered back toward him, completely unaware of the weight of her own words.
He tilted his head toward the sedan he’d rented. “This way.” A knot formed in his stomach as they went toward it.
Telling her about their marriage was necessary, but he’d let the matter take on its own life at this point. I shouldn’t have waited so long to tell her. Too much time has passed.
He held the door open for her, then shut the door behind her after she’d slid into her seat.
Moving around to the driver’s side, the smell of new leather and car cleaning soap reached him. Yet, somehow, he swore he could still find the trace of her perfume or scent it was that she wore that made her smell so incredible.
God, I sound like a man obsessed.
“Where are we headed?”
Isla laughed lightly. “Back to the glamorous motel. Make a right out of the parking lot. It’s only a couple of minutes down the road.
Turns out this is an itty-bitty town, hence that scene you saw outside the bar.
Boyd is trying to put a bit more filler material into this episode since there isn’t much to see in town.
Today, we spent most of the day hiking at Mount Magazine.
We visited a monastery yesterday, and did the town spring festival on Saturday. ”
“So, a fight in a pub is filler material?” Aiden gave her a curious look.
“Yeah. Tomas and I are having a fight.” Isla leaned back in the seat. “And we’re going to make up at Callum and Liddy’s elopement party. They’ll film a short segment with us happy once again and then move on.”
What on earth?
“And Callum is all right with this?”
She grimaced. “I haven’t quite worked up the nerve to tell him yet.”
“Isla—”
“I know. I’m going to. Soon. And if I can’t, I’ll just figure out a way to firmly tell Boyd no.”
“But you’ve already agreed to it?”
“Just a verbal agreement. Nothing in writing. Boyd was furious with Davy for falling short with this location. He felt as though we could have explored a different city instead. This kept him happy. Actually, that’s what I had called about on Saturday—to get your opinion.
But I handled it on my own.” She pointed to the left. “That’s the motel up there.”
He slowed, then turned into the car park, a sinking feeling going through him as he caught sight of the No Availability sign. And he hadn’t booked a hotel yet because he’d been counting on checking in to wherever the crew was staying. “Are there other hotels close to this?”
Isla laughed and shook her head. “Well, I think there’s a bed-and-breakfast closer to Mount Magazine. Maybe.” She gave him a closer look as he parked. “Do you not have a place to stay?”
“Not exactly, no.”
Isla bit her lower lip.
Dammit.
She had to stop doing things that called attention to that luscious mouth of hers.
“You can stay with me if you want,” she said with a shrug. “We have slept in the same bed before, with considerably less clothes on.”
That’s precisely why this isn’t a good idea.
But he could have self-control. If Isla could handle it, he should be able to also.
“Yeah, all right. Thanks,” he said instead. He popped the boot of the car, then pulled his bag from it and followed her toward the motel room.
They slipped inside, and Isla flipped the light on.
Aiden closed the door behind him, scanning the small but tidy space.
One queen-sized bed.
Brilliant. Just brilliant.
Aiden forced his face into neutrality, but for a second—just a second—her eyes flickered over him, like she’d caught something in his expression.
Isla kicked off her shoes, replacing them with slippers. “You okay?” she asked.
If she only knew the absolute war raging in his head.
“Fine.” He adjusted his collar, like that would do anything to loosen the knot of tension forming in his chest.
“Do you mind if I grab a quick shower before we talk? I feel gross.”
Another reprieve from the inevitable?
“Of course. I honestly wouldn’t mind changing either.” He still had his work suit on.
“Good. Give me five minutes. I won’t even blow-dry my hair.” She grabbed a few things from her suitcase, then disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
Aiden stared at the door, a heavy feeling settling on his chest.
I shouldn’t be this nervous.
But how did one tell a woman he’d known forever that they were legally wed?
And not just a woman. How had she gone from his best friend’s little sister to someone he thought about constantly?
He set his bag on the floor and opened it, his head pounding. Changing, he sat on the end of the bed and closed his eyes, listening to the soft stream of water from the shower, counting the seconds with dread.
He didn’t need to be so worried. He’d tell her, and they’d face and fix the problem together. Then move on.
But that was it, wasn’t it?
Move on to what?
What in the hell was he moving toward?
No one. Nothing.
The soulless existence of making money. Being a businessman. Coming home to an empty house and takeaway.
“What’s home to you, Aiden? What does it look like? More importantly, who’s there waiting for you?”
John’s words might have been a tad presumptuous, but they had been on his mind since Aiden heard them. Who’s waiting for you?
The water shut off and the slide of a shower curtain told him that Isla was getting out.
Time crawled as he waited for her to dress and open that door. And as he stared at it, he felt himself losing the will to tell her—put it off just a little longer. He’d keep coming back here, telling himself that he’d just get it over with next time . Give himself another excuse to see her.
The door opened, and Aiden jerked his chin up as she sauntered out, her hair wet and combed, wearing a nightshirt and matching shorts.
God, she’s beautiful. How did I never see it before?
Or maybe he had and he’d ignored it because that would be crossing the line. Of course, they’d torpedoed that line in Vegas.
Aiden drew a sharp breath and held her gaze. “I need to tell you something and it can’t wait.”
He hesitated for one last, useless second.
Then he forced the words out.
“We’re married, Isla.”