Chapter 26 Aidan
AIDAN
For the rest of the day, I ignore Iris. Not because I want to, but because I don’t. Because if I let myself do what I want to do to her, not only will we not get any work done, John will fire us both.
I was so impressed by the way she stood up to him today.
I know it wasn’t easy for her, and I wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to tell her how freaking proud I was.
Instead, I watched her translate her ideas for the lighthouse into rough sketches, knowing I’d made the right call by putting her on this project.
I’m pretty sure Thomas Waterman and the people of Wetherly Cove will think so too.
John will just have to damn well get used to it.
I knew you could handle it.
His patronizing words from this morning haunt me.
I can’t tell if he’s treating me differently because I’m defending Iris, or if he’s always been that condescending and I’m only just noticing, but either way, I don’t like it.
Yes, he’s my boss, but that doesn’t give him carte blanche to be a jerk.
To make promises he has no intention of keeping.
He’s been holding partnership over me for almost a decade, and I’m starting to wonder if he has any intention of giving it to me. If he ever did.
Iris is quiet as she finally steps away from her drafting table at 3 p.m. She’s been sketching all day, breaking only for lunch because I reminded her, and I’m eager to see what she’s produced, but more than that, I want to check in with her.
Make sure she’s okay after the altercation with John this morning.
I’ve got another meeting with David Lancaster at the Bushwick site to check on progress with the studios before heading home, and I wasn’t planning to take Iris with me when she was so in the zone, but now I’m desperate for a moment alone with her.
“Want to finish up?” I ask, pulling on my coat.
She nods, stretching. “Yeah, sorry. You probably want your office back.”
I frown. That’s the last thing I want.
“I’m heading out to the Bushwick site to check on progress. You should come.”
Her brows pop up. “Oh. Sure.”
Not quite the enthusiastic response I was hoping for.
“If you’d rather stay here…”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I’ll come. Let me grab my things.”
I scratch my chin as I watch her gather her bag and coat from her desk.
Something’s off with her, but I’m not sure what.
Is she having second thoughts about us? It seems unlikely, given how much she pushed for it, but maybe the reality of things has hit now that we’re back in the office, especially with her father watching her every move.
There’s a twist in my chest as I think about having to step back from this.
No longer kissing her, touching her. All the things that could have been.
If that’s what she wants, I’ll do it, of course.
But it would fucking crush me.
She gives me a faint smile as we head outside to my car. I decide not to ask, not yet. Maybe she just needs to get out of the office. Away from John. I’m sure she’ll perk up when we get to the studios.
But as we climb the stairs in the Bushwick building, her usual sparkle is still AWOL. I expect her to be excited about seeing her design come to life, but she can barely muster a smile as we meet with David. I’m the one who steps forward with an enthusiastic handshake.
“Looking good, isn’t it?” I ask, and he nods. The kitchens are in—cabinetry fitted, countertops gleaming in the afternoon light—so we can finally see how the studios will come together. They’re small, but with Iris’s smart design, they’ll make great places to live.
I walk the floor with David, iPad in hand, checking that the installations match the plans; cabinet heights, appliance clearances, counter overhangs.
It’s common for builders to cut corners on projects like this, so I take a moment to look closely.
Are the joints tight, the lines clean, the finishes consistent?
I take photos for my records as I do, and Iris quietly scrawls details in her notebook.
Once I’m satisfied the project is up to scratch, I slide my iPad into my briefcase and turn back to her.
“What do you think?”
“Looks great,” she murmurs, but the flatness in her tone tells me she’s not really here.
Whatever was bothering her at the office is still on her mind, and I want to get to the bottom of it.
This morning she was so excited when I asked her to work on the lighthouse project—so excited I almost said something I couldn’t take back—but ever since John stepped into my office, she’s changed.
I glance at David, wanting a moment alone with Iris. “Mind if we stay a little longer? If I can get a few last checks done tonight, I’ll send you the site observation report first thing tomorrow and we’ll be clear for fixings and finishes.”
He nods. “Sure thing. Just lock up on your way out.”
I shake his hand again, thanking him, watching as he leaves.
Iris flips her notebook open again with a sigh. “What checks do we need to do?”
“None.” I take the notebook gently from her hand and set it on the counter behind me, taking her hands in mine. “Look at me, Iris.”
Her blue eyes lift to mine, swimming with hesitation, and a knot tightens in my chest.
“What’s going on, sweetheart? You’ve been off all day.”
“I’m sorry. I just…” She swallows, and it sends a nervous ripple through me. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” she whispers at last.
My heart plunges.
Fuck. She’s ending it?
I drop her hands, stepping back against the counter.
Forcing myself to give her space, even if it’s the last thing I want.
She cringes, and unease swirls through me.
I have to remember I’m her boss and considerably older than her.
My pulse accelerates as I think over our weekend, searching for places I might have misstepped.
I bought her clothes, kissed her in that boutique, then there’s what we did in that motel room…
I thought she wanted those things, but was I wrong?
Did I cross a line without realizing it?
“If I’ve done anything to make you uncomfortable,” I begin, and she gives a vehement shake of her head, stepping forward to take my hands again.
“No, Aidan. Come on. You could never do that.”
Relief trickles through me, but it’s not enough. Not with that deep groove in her brow.
“Are you sure?”
She looks at me as if I’m crazy. “You’re the first person to ever make me feel comfortable.” She hesitates. “I like you so, so much,” she adds, exhaling audibly.
Oh. Shit.
I lift her hand to my lips, brushing a kiss over the back of it. “Then what’s going on? Is it John?”
She gives a tiny nod. I knew it. She’s rattled after the confrontation with her father. After he made her feel like shit for taking on the lighthouse project.
“You’re risking too much for me,” she whispers, and I pause.
Wait. What?
“Every time you stand up for me, or give me a project… Dad’s never going to make you partner. And I just…” Her voice shakes as she looks down at our joined hands. “I don’t know if I’m worth it.”
I blink in shock. That’s what she’s worried about?
“Iris… you don’t have to worry about that, okay?”
“But I am worried about it,” she says, her eyes fierce. “I can’t ask you to give that up for me. I can’t—”
“Hey. Hey.” I lift a hand to her cheek, stroking softly. I think about what I shared on the drive to Wetherly, about my father and sacrifice. Of course she took that personally. “You’re not asking me to give anything up. Got that? This isn’t your problem.”
“It is,” she insists. “I want you to have the career you want.”
Oh. God.
Emotion floods my chest, and I pull her tight against me. What she doesn’t realize is that she’s what I want. I was convinced Iris was a distraction from my career, but maybe she’s not a distraction at all.
Maybe she’s the main event.
When I think about her contribution at work, she’s a fucking star. With her help, we’ve completed a studio project I didn’t want to go near, and we’re tackling plans for a lighthouse that otherwise would’ve had me stumped.
But more than any of that is her heart. The way she cares. She’s prepared to end this to protect me. Putting my needs first. Something my job—something John—has never done.
“You are what I want,” I say softly, drawing back to meet Iris’s gaze. I need her to see how serious I am.
“Are you sure?” she presses, fingers tightening on my lapels. “Are you sure this is worth it?”
“I’m so fucking sure.” I turn to grab my briefcase and pop it open, pulling out the tiny paper bag. “And in case you need reminding…” I tug the silver chain from the bag and hold it up for Iris to see. A tiny cupcake dangles between us, and she gasps.
“What’s this?”
“I picked it up from that boutique at the weekend,” I say, smiling. It’s only cheap silver, nothing fancy, and I hesitate, wishing I’d taken the time to go to a jeweler, find something beautiful and expensive like she deserves.
Iris’s eyes fill as she gazes at the necklace.
“Oh my God, Aidan. I love it. I can’t believe…
” she cuts herself off, dropping her gaze as she tries to pull herself together, and I take her chin gently in my hand.
She tries so hard to keep it together with everyone else, but I don’t want her to feel that way with me. I want her to be real.
“You don’t have to hide your emotions with me, okay?”
Her eyes are so blue as they come back to mine, shimmering with unshed tears.
I unclasp the necklace, stepping behind her.
Sweeping her hair out the way, I gently clasp it against the soft skin of her neck, then lower my lips there.
Iris sighs, leaning forward slightly to place her hands on the kitchen counter, her ass nudging into my groin.
My dick responds instantly, thickening in my slacks, and I press it to her soft curves.