28. He Saw Her Compassion
He Saw Her Compassion
Aiden
“I could’ve sworn…” Cocking my head, I lowered my book, listening.
Wind. Birds. Yeah, there it was again. A quiet knock tapped at the door.
I snapped my book shut and hopped off the couch. A glance at my watch, and my brows bunched together. A little after midday. Too early for Ruth. Her instructions had been very clear.
Ruth
Be ready to bring lunch at two… unless something pops up.
And the mystery visitor wouldn’t be Harry. He never bothered knocking. He just swung the door open and barged inside —usually with his boots still on, tramping dirt all over the hardwood floors.
My book slid across the dining table as I passed. The door eased open. I blinked.
I’m dreaming.
Lola stood on the veranda, her back to me, her eyes roaming the valley below. Blonde wisps escaped the high ponytail sweeping her hair back, and she was dressed simply in a loose white T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Pink sneakers.
I cleared my throat. That would wake me up. I had to be sleepwalking. “Lola?” I managed to croak.
She turned, her cheeks flushed almost as pink as her sneakers. “Hi!” A soft laugh. Was she nervous? “That view… It’s so beautiful up here.”
I stood there, my hand frozen on the door, my mouth hanging open. Words deserted me. Lola was at my house. It was like winning the lottery. No. What was better than that?
She was at my house .
Lola’s smile wavered. “Do I look like a wreck?” Self-conscious, she reached a hand to smooth her hair. “It’s windy this high up. And hillier. I’m not as fit as I could be.” Another of her laughs tingled over my skin. “Maybe I should have agreed to go to one of those classes with Brooke.”
Wait. Hold up, one second. “You walked here?”
She nodded. “It only took about forty minutes.”
Forty minutes! Panic surged to life in my chest. “Lola, that’s not safe! There’s no path. You have to walk along the road.” I speared a hand through my hair. “What if a car—”
“I’m fine.” Her fingertips grazed my forearm to reassure me she was okay. “You have the only house this way. So, unless you or Harry are burning a trail up the mountain, I’m perfectly fine. Nothing to worry about! Anyway, forget all that. Sorry I’m late.”
I frowned. “Late?”
“For lunch.” She held up a pink container. “Dessert, as requested.”
My frown didn’t budge. I stared at her, more confused than ever.
“It’s a brown butter cheesecake! Ruth said…” Lola trailed off, her shoulders sagging when she sighed. “You didn’t know I was coming…did you?”
I shook my head.
“Ruth set me up?”
“I think she set us both up. I’ve got a chicken and leek pot pie in the oven, which I have a suspicion might be one of your favourites.
The last time I baked a pie, Ruth accused me of being the reincarnation of Nana Wilks.
It’s old people’s food, apparently.” I shot Lola a wry smile.
“She told me to bring it down to her place at two… unless something popped up.”
And something had definitely popped up. The best thing.
Lola’s sigh was defeated. “Aiden, I’m sorry. I wish everyone would stop interfering.”
“I won’t lie and say I’m sad you’re here.
” I was damn near thrilled she was standing at my front door.
“I like spending time with you. But if you’d prefer not to spend time with me, I understand.
Let me drive you home, though. I’ll be a wreck worrying about you marching along the road to get back to town. ”
Lola leant forward, just enough to get her head in the doorway. She took a big sniff. “If that’s a chicken pie in the oven… And I’ve already baked this nice cheesecake…” The bite of her lip was all nerves. “It seems a shame not to enjoy them.”
Was this happening? “You’ll…stay?” Now I knew I had to be dreaming.
“If…you’d…like?”
I didn’t even pause to check my mouth. “I want that more than anything in the whole world.” A split second later, the stupidity of how desperate that sounded hit me, and I let out an awkward laugh. “Or, um… yeah. Sure. Stay.” I lifted a shoulder.
Lola smirked. “No big deal, huh?”
I shook it all off with a smile.
A few twirls, arms everywhere, and her bag hung on the rack by the door, her pink sneakers were off, and the cheesecake was safely deposited in the fridge.
“Oh!” Her tiny feet scurried across the wooden floor. “Look at all your books!”
“Uh, yeah… I enjoy reading.”
“It’s like a library! Oh!” Her hand shot out for The Count of Monte Cristo , but when her fingers brushed the spine, she quickly pulled her hand back. “S-sorry. I shouldn’t—”
“Of course you should. Here.” I slid the book off the shelf and handed it to her. “Would you like to borrow it?”
Her eyes swept over the cover. “Can I?”
“Yeah, of course. If you want, you can take the antique set—”
“Oh no! Not your special editions. This one will do. I just want to read it.” Smiling, she hugged the book to her chest. “We’ve talked about it so many times. I’d love to be able to add my thoughts to our conversations.”
She could add her thoughts about cement to our conversations, and I’d still listen. I just liked hearing her voice. And those laughs…
“Lunch will be ready soon,” I said. “Can I get you something to drink? I don’t have anything homemade to offer you, but I have some wine… Red… White…”
“White? If you have a Pinot…” Longing eyes drifted to the deck overlooking the valley. “Can we sit outside?”
“To answer your first question, I have a local Pinot Grigio you can try. As for the second, I’ll leave it up to you to pick a nice spot for us… I’ll only be a minute.”
That minute ended up being five. I bent over the sink, sucking in air, trying to calm my nerves enough to get the bottle of wine open. It was only a damn screw top, but the sweat on my palms made getting the lid off almost impossible.
It wasn’t my cock talking—although that appendage wasn’t helping the situation.
My heart thumped in my chest, pounding faster seeing Lola’s things in my space, watching her fingers skim the wooden table I’d made, and hearing her contented hum when she flopped on the outdoor lounge. I loved her being there.
Don’t screw this up, idiot. This can’t end like last time.
After grabbing the bottle of wine, two glasses, and a rushed platter of cheese and crackers in my hands, I wrestled enough control back to head outside.
“Ruth sent me three pictures of potential locations for the Games Night trophy,” Lola said, reaching for the wine glass when I offered it to her.
“Yeah? Which spot did you choose?”
“The shelf above her potted herbs. You?”
“The entry table. That way she can crow about it whenever someone stops by for a visit.”
Lola grinned. “A solid suggestion.” Her eyes darted to the side. “And, um… not to become the next church lady or anything, but…”
I sank onto the lounge beside her. Not right beside. A gap. A respectable gap. But close enough to smell her familiar coconut shampoo and whatever new perfume she wore.
“But?” I prompted.
“I may have spotted a hat on her dining table in one of the photos.”
“A hat, huh?”
“Mmhmm. A hat that looks suspiciously like the one Ryan Hollyoak wears sometimes.”
“You don’t say.”
“I don’t. I’m only thinking I saw it there.” She zipped her lips. “I won’t be telling a single soul other than you.” Her eyes drifted back over the valley. “I’m happy for them.”
“Me too.”
A comfortable silence settled between the two of us. There was never any pressure to fill the quiet with too many words. With a faint smile on her lips, Lola sipped her wine, twirling the glass in her fingers as she gazed over the rolling grass and tufted treetops.
Being with her was so effortless. Too easy. Dangerously familiar.
I ruined it all.
“It was my fault,” I said.
Lola’s head turned, a crease between her pale brows.
“Ruth’s accident was my fault.”
Staring at the mole dotted on my thumb seemed easier than looking at Lola after blurting out my darkest secret. She set her wine glass down with a clumsy clink, but she didn’t bolt for the door. She edged closer on the lounge until her jeans pressed against mine.
My gut clenched in a tight knot. Why was Lola still sitting here? I slid a wary glance to her. Why did she push up her glasses and smile at me so sweetly instead of storming off in disgust? She should storm off. That was the reaction I was waiting for. That was the one I deserved.
Lola’s hand squeezed my knee. “Lost in your thoughts again?”
I hid the surprise of her touch by shrugging.
“Do you want to talk more about what you said?” she asked. “If you want to try… I want to listen.”
“I’ve, um… Yeah.” I let out a slow breath, but my chest still felt too tight. “I’ve never really talked about this stuff with anyone before.”
“Ruth’s accident was such a long time ago. You’ve been carrying this on your shoulders all these years without talking to anyone?”
“Some things are better left unsaid.”
I wanted to laugh at myself. Some things? More like… everything .
In the months since I’d screwed up with Lola, I’d only existed by floating from one of her smiles to the next. Before her, I’d barely existed at all. Ruth and Harry were all that had kept me going most days, and for a long time, that was enough. They were both important to me.
But honestly… I was tired . And, selfishly, I wanted more.
I wanted to cuddle Lola on my couch. I wanted to bring her eggs and milk because she always forgot to stock up. I wanted to hold her hand and kiss her on the cheek and tell her I’d missed her when she came home from work.
I loved that girl right down to her adorable pink toenails, and if I had any hope of ever being with her, I needed to be honest. That was what we’d promised each other, wasn’t it?
But where did you start when you needed to tell someone everything ? The beginning? Maybe not the very beginning—like how I was born in the back of a Mitsubishi Sigma on the way to my aunt’s barbecue—but to the beginning that mattered.
“You, um…” I swallowed heavily. “You said you spent some time with Ruth while I was away?”