26. Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Six
Aidan
The gravel on the pathway leading to Maeve’s cottage crunches underneath my boots, the sound mingling with the chirping notes from the birds on this mild evening in June.
I’ve started looking forward to our Tuesday afternoons way too much, but I can’t seem to stop them, even though the rope she has wrapped around me grows tighter the longer we keep doing this.
Sometimes, I feel as if I’m a character from a romance novel set in the Middle Ages when the hero climbs through the window of his betrothed, or the woman he can’t seem to stop wanting, to have his wicked way with her.
Or maybe he’s the villain of the story instead of the hero.
Either way, I’m not done with being wicked with her.
I raise my hand to knock on her door, but just as I have the other times, I hesitate. The thrumming in my blood urges me to take the last step, and I knock on the heavy door.
You’re so fucked.
I ignore the gentle breeze whispering in my ear.
Then I wait.
But this time, there’s no Maeve opening, inviting me inside. No maiden that welcomes me with her soft smile and rosy cheeks.
I frown and knock again, this time louder.
I’m not worried that anyone is going to find me up here. The cottage is so far away from the main road that only someone visiting would take the road here. When Maeve still doesn’t open the door for me, I take a step back and look underneath the doormat for a key but there isn’t one.
I should’ve known Maeve would be the only person in Cloonmara who won’t leave a key under her doormat.
The woman is too practical for her own good.
I straighten my back and pull out my phone from my pocket.
I sigh and swipe the screen to find her name in my contacts to phone her.
A kernel of worry settles in my gut because this isn’t like her.
I stare off into the distance, listening to the incessant ringing, not really seeing anything.
When it goes to voicemail, I put it back into my pocket and walk around the side of the house, peering into her windows.
If anyone could see me now, lurking and peering through her windows, they’d either come running to ask me questions or phone the Garda station.
Both would be bad for me, but even so, it’d be better than worrying about a woman I’m not supposed to feel so strongly about. Then again…Maeve and I are friends, and friends worry about each other, especially when one of them doesn’t answer their phone and isn’t where they’re supposed to be.
Finally, I reach a window all the way at the back of the cottage that’s slightly ajar, and I wiggle a finger through the opening to lift off the latch.
Triumph mingles with determination as I open it, and I swing a leg over the side and slip inside.
My eyes sweep up and down the dark-brown shelves that look a lot like my pantry, and I walk briskly to the door at the opposite end and open it.
“Maeve? Are you here?” I call out, then turn in a circle to take in the large kitchen. A kitchen that’s as quiet as a tomb, and I don’t like it.
“Who is it?”
I walk towards the hallway at the sound of her voice. I round the curve of the stairs and look up, stopping with my foot on the first step. I freeze at the sight of her.
“Aidan?” she croaks, then coughs into the side of her elbow. She blinks rapidly and runs a hand through her messy hair. “What are you doing here?”
I ignore her question and swallow the sudden dryness in my throat. She’s only wearing a long, pink T-shirt and fuzzy, light-purple knee socks.
Fuck. Me.
She reaches out her hand to the wall and sways on her feet, and that’s all it takes for my limbs to get unstuck. I run up the stairs and grab her waist the moment I reach her side.
“Mae?”
She blinks and frowns up at me.
“What are you…” She shakes her head. “I’m not…” She coughs and makes a feeble attempt to dash my hand off her forehead. “I’m not feeling so good.”
“I can see that.” I frown at her glassy eyes. “You’re burning up. Do you have a thermometer?”
She sighs and leans into me, nuzzling her nose into my chest. “No.”
I curl my hand underneath her mass of hair and pull it to the side to blow softly on her clammy skin on the nape of her neck the same way I did when Katie was little and had a fever. My stomach does a long-forgotten sweep when her arms wrap around my waist.
“Let’s get you into bed. Just lean on me.” I kiss the top of her head. “I’ll get you some water and stay with you.”
“No, you need to get home to Katie,” she groans. She stumbles into me when I turn her around, taking most of her weight as we shuffle down the hallway to her bedroom.
“I’ll phone her or my parents, let them know I’m with you. Don’t you worry about her.”
“But…”
“Shh, come now. Just a little more.”
She coughs into my shirt, and I frown at the nasty rattling in her chest. In one easy move, I bend and lift her underneath her knees and up into my arms.
“Oh!” She wraps her arms around my neck. “Aidan, please…”
“Hush,” I grunt, eating up the distance to her bedroom in quick strides. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
“What does it look like?”
“Like I’m carrying you to bed like Mr. Darcy would his Miss Bennett.”
“Hm. I’ve always thought of you more like the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood.”
I wince. “Ouch.”
“I don’t mean that in a bad way.” She leans her head over my heart. “Or maybe you’re more like Mr. Rochester, who ought to know better than to sweep Jane off her feet. Poor girl.”
I bark out a laugh, toe the door open to her bedroom, and place her carefully on her bed. I toss a quilt on the floor, only tucking the duvet around her to make sure she doesn’t end up too warm.
“I thought you didn’t read the classics.” I sit on the side of her bed and grin down at her.
She rolls to her side, facing me, only her eyes are already closed.
“I don’t, but I remember the stories from when I was at school.
” She talks around a loud yawn. “I’d rather be eaten by the big, bad wolf.
Much more fun.” Sighing, she shifts, her mouth turning into an adorable pout. “I bet you’d like to eat me, too.”
I shake my head at her feverish nonsense and lean down, my lips close to her ear.
“I always love eating you. Go to sleep, Mae,” I whisper and swipe my fingers through the hair curling in a soft S across her lips. “Rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Hm.”
I pull out my phone and send a text to my mother but try not to give too much away.
ME: I ran into a sick Maeve, so I took her back to Rose Hill. I’ll stay here for a few hours, make sure she’s comfortable. I don’t like her being on her own like that. Tell Katie for me when she gets home?
I don’t have to wait long before she answers back.
MUM: Of course. Poor girl. We’ll take Katie home for the night. Let me know if you need me to bring her anything.
ME: Thank you. I will.
I put the phone on silent and look back at Maeve’s sleeping form.
The rise and fall of her deep breaths keep me company for a while.
In the end, though, I drag my eyes away and carefully get up from the bed.
I walk down the stairs to her kitchen and start looking in every cupboard, in search of her glasses.
It doesn't take me long to find them, and I pour two glasses of water and then make sure all the windows are closed and secured, then turn on the lights over the kitchen sink in case I have to come down later for something more for Maeve.
I don’t have the alarm code to Rose Hill cottage but make a mental note to ask for it when Maeve’s better, and after I’ve taken off my boots in the hall, I walk back upstairs.
Maeve hasn’t moved an inch since I left her.
I put the glasses on the dresser standing up against the wall on the opposite side of her bed and remove the rest of my clothes, but I keep my boxers on.
I glance back at Maeve before I head into her bathroom to relieve my bladder and wash my hands quickly.
I walk back into her bedroom and stop at the foot of it, once again captivated by her.
I curl my hands around the foot of her bed and take in her sleeping form.
Her knees are up to her chest, one of her hands underneath her chin, the other curled into a tight fist close to her chest. Her flushed skin and freckles kiss almost every inch of her face, her deep breaths, and the small frown marring her forehead…
everything about her screams at me to leave her alone.
To let her be just like most people have done all her life, and yet…
I can’t. I won’t walk away.
A wave of confusion passes through me. I don’t know what to make of it, and I know full well that I’m breaking one of her rules right now, but I can’t just leave her as she is.
Alone.
Vulnerable.
I’m stuck here, my body glued to her side, until she gets better.
I push away from the bars, move to her side, and tuck the duvet away before I slide in next to her, turning my front to her back.
Her skin still burns hotter than I’d like, so I put some distance between us.
I tug the duvet off her back and part of her legs, too, and because I can’t seem to stop touching her whenever she’s close, I wrap my hand around hers.
The sense of peace that washes over me when I hear her sigh sends alarm bells ringing, but I push them as far away as I can.
Instead, I put my other arm under my head, giving me the perfect view out of her floor-to-ceiling windows and watch as the sun begins to set.
Little by little, the daylight fades, the only company the steady breath of the woman asleep next to me, and the longer I listen to the monotone sound, the heavier my body grows.
She shifts her legs, her feet touching mine, and I can’t stop grinning when I feel her soft socks against my calves.
Fucking adorable.
And then I drift off to sleep.
“Don’t leave me.”
I jerk awake, my arm tightening automatically around Maeve, and attempt to blink the grogginess from my eyes.
“Please…” She lets out a sob, the sound so broken that it wrecks me.