Chapter Ten
Gage
“You and Sophie shouldn't be alone in here with the door shut,” I said, ignoring the look of surprise on Aiden's face.
It wasn't what I'd planned to say. I wasn't there to talk about Sophie. But they’d looked far too cozy behind that closed door, smiling at each other as if they shared an inside joke.
I didn't want Aiden alone in a room with Sophie, laughing with her, and sharing jokes with her. Aiden was all wrong for Sophie. He was too cold, too controlled.
“I was having a private meeting with an employee,” Aiden said, dryly. “You should know that I would never engage in inappropriate behavior with a woman who worked for me, especially one who works in this house.”
I knew what he was getting at. What he was implying. I wasn't taking the bait. Just in case I'd missed his point, Aiden went on, “Please tell me you're not bothering Sophie.”
I didn't answer. Anything I said would either be a lie or start a fight. Aiden's eyes narrowed on me, his expression icy. “Sophie is a valuable member of our staff. Aunt Amelia considers her a friend. We are not going to do anything to jeopardize her position in this household. Do you understand?”
“So she's just an employee? Then what were you two laughing about in here?” I asked, knowing I sounded both jealous and a little unhinged.
I couldn't help myself.
Impulse control had been just one of my problems since I'd gotten home. Normally, I could match Aiden's icy stare with one of my own. Not now, and not when it was about Sophie. The memory of their shared laughter grated on my nerves.
“Our conversation is none of your business,” Aiden said, flatly. “Now, what did you need to see me about?”
I wasn't ready to drop the topic of Sophie.
“If you're going to have meetings with Sophie, you should do it with the door open,” I insisted, knowing I sounded ridiculous.
Aiden visibly gritted his teeth. “There is nothing going on between me and Sophie.
She is an employee, and I was getting an update on Amelia which necessitated a closed-door because Amelia is nosy.
Everyone in this house knows that, and the only one who thinks it's suspicious or inappropriate is you.
Which makes me wonder exactly what's going on between you and Sophie.”
My hands dropped to my sides, my fingers curling into fists. I couldn't bring myself to lie, not to Aiden, but I wasn't going to reveal any information that might compromise Sophie. I settled for saying, “Sophie hasn't done anything wrong.”
“I never thought she had. Stay away from her, Gage.
We can't afford to lose her. Amelia would never forgive you.” Sitting back, he flipped his pen over in his fingers.
In a low voice, he said, “I haven't looked into the details, but my understanding is that she had a very bad marriage before her husband died.
According to Amelia, she hasn't dated since.
The last thing she needs is to get involved with a man she can't depend on. Leave her alone.”
Between the mention of Sophie's bad marriage, the direct order to stay away from her, and the very thinly veiled accusation that I couldn't be depended on, I was ready to launch myself across Aiden's desk and start swinging my tightly clenched fists.
Impulse control.
I wanted to hit him so badly I could feel the impact of his cheekbones on my knuckles. Feel the crash as I took him from his oversized desk chair to the floor.
I don't think I ever wanted to hit someone in my entire life as much as I wanted to hit Aiden right then.
It took every ounce of willpower I had to stay where I was, my fisted hands at my sides, my jaw tight.
I didn't like hearing that Sophie had suffered through a bad marriage.
I really didn't like Aiden ordering me around.
But the worst, the hardest to swallow, was Aiden implying that I was undependable. Because he was fucking right.
I wasn't myself. It had nothing to do with Sophie. I knew I shouldn't have kissed her in the kitchen, but I wouldn't take that back for a million dollars.
One kiss.
It couldn't have lasted more than a few minutes. I could still taste her in my mouth, feel her sweetly curved body under my hands. I could've kissed her for hours.
But Aiden was right; I was undependable. I didn't know if he was referring to my running out on the family twelve years before, or the fact that I'd come home a fucked up mess, but either way he had a point.
And it burned even more that he was right about her being an employee in our home. She didn't work for me. I hadn't hired her. But I was a Winters, and we signed her paycheck.
This had never been a house where a woman at work felt vulnerable. Never.
My grandfather, my father, my mother, Uncle Hugh, Aunt Olivia—all of them had made it clear that our staff was to be respected and treated as professionals at all times. There was no chasing after the maids when I was a teenage boy, no matter how pretty they might be.
I didn't want to walk away from Sophie. Since I'd come home, she was the only person who made me feel like me. Ironic that the one human being in this house who made me feel at home was one who technically didn't belong here.
It killed me to admit that Aiden was right.
Sophie deserved better. I wasn't saying I wouldn't pursue her, but now was not the time.
I had to get my shit together. There was always the chance that once I was back to normal, this insane attraction would fade.
Maybe something in my subconscious was just grasping at Sophie because she felt safe.
Maybe. But I didn't think so. I wasn't myself, I knew that. But the way I was drawn to Sophie, it was more than a reaction to stress. I closed my eyes, remembering the scent of her skin, sultry and sweet. The sound of her laugh, joyful and clear.
Sophie was mine. I could give her space. I could wait until I was in better shape to pursue her, but she was mine.
Opening my eyes, I sent Aiden a level look as I took a seat opposite him and said “I'm not going to bother Sophie. But I'd better not find out you are behind my back.”
“Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” Aiden asked in a dismissive tone.
“No. I couldn't sleep last night, and I went to the kitchen. Sophie was up, and we were talking. We heard a noise, sounded like someone knocking something over. Were you awake?”
Aiden sat up straighter, dropping the pretense of disinterest. “No. I went to sleep around eleven and didn't wake up until five thirty. What time was this?”
“It was three twenty-seven when we heard the noise. I made sure Sophie was secure and then went to take a look around.”
“Did you find anything?” Aiden asked.
“Nothing conclusive. A stack of books was out of place in the library. So was a lamp, but nothing was broken. There was no sign of forced entry. But we did hear something fall over. If there was no one else in the house, we should have seen what it was. Instead, everything looked normal.”
“You're saying that someone was in the house and they put back whatever it was they knocked over?” Aiden asked.
“That would be my guess. But the alarm was on. It was armed when we heard the sound, and it never turned off. If you were in bed, Sophie and I were in the kitchen, and Amelia was asleep… It's possible it could have been Abel. Does the alarm for the house include his garage apartment?”
“It does. Theoretically, he could've been in the house. I'll check with him this morning. If it wasn't Abel, I'll ask Cooper to come out and go over the system again.”
“When was the last time Sinclair Security reviewed the system?” I asked.
Sinclair Security was the best private security company in the country, and it was run by the current generation of Sinclairs, who happened to be our closest friends.
Convenient when it came to things like having one of the best alarm systems known to man installed at Winters House.
Since the death of our parents, no one at Winters House took security lightly.
At my question, Aiden looked uncomfortable, and my nose for trouble went on high alert.
“What?” I demanded. Aiden shifted in his seat and shuffled the papers on his desk, not meeting my eyes.
“We've had a little trouble this year. We were under the impression it had been resolved but—”
“What kind of trouble?”
Aiden's explanation turned my blood to ice in my veins. It seemed that one of our parents’ old friends had gone completely insane and had been leaving crime scene photographs of our parents’ murders for the family to find.
First Jacob, with a picture of my parents’ murder.
Then Vance, with the doctored version of the same photograph.
Finally, she went to Charlie, where they caught her trying to leave another photograph.
The culprit, Marissa Archer, had been a crony of our parents’ and our uncle William.
She'd also, apparently, gone stark raving mad, ranting on Charlie's front porch about how only she knew the truth and it wasn't over, he was still out there.
We all assumed she was talking about the murders, but shortly after she'd been shut away in a mental health facility, she'd stopped talking completely.
Aiden said they were keeping a close eye on her, but since she'd fallen silent, there'd been nothing. It's not like she was a reliable witness, anyway.
“Were any of you planning to tell me about this?” I asked.
“There didn't seem to be much point in bothering you with it,” Aiden said, evenly. “You weren't here, and you weren't planning on coming home. It wasn't your problem.
“Of course it's my problem,” I burst out. “This is my fucking family.”
Aiden raised one cool eyebrow at me as if to ask—Is it?
“How sure are we that Marissa Archer was working alone?” I asked, ignoring Aiden's taunt.
He shrugged one shoulder. “We're not sure of anything. Nothing has happened since she's been locked up, but that isn't proof.”