10. Kate
Ihave no clue how Aiden produced a warm washcloth, but he did, gently wiping me even as I brushed away his ministrations and got dressed, keeping one eye on the rattling windows.
I don’t regret what happened. It was good. Really good. Mind blowing, in fact. Which, in some ways, makes the fact we’re likely stuck together alone in this lifeguard tower overnight even more awkward than if the tension between us was still so thick you could cut it with a knife.
I tug on my boots and blow out a long breath. Although the atmosphere doesn’t quite crackle with friction, there are still so many things unsaid. Complicated further by the fact he referred to me as love while we were banging.
But it’s time for me to get to work. What happened changes nothing. And the endearment isn’t something I should read into. No doubt it simply slipped out in the heat of the moment, not because Aiden Landry actually loves me.
And even if he did, he had his chance. Although, as I glance over at him, tugging on his jeans and pulling that navy T-shirt over his rock-hard abs, a piece of my heart protests. A sizable chunk.
When I told him he’s the same and yet…different, I meant it. And, as far as I can tell, the man Aiden Landry turned out to be is even harder to resist than the boy I once loved.
His gaze flicks over in my direction, catching me watching him. I clear my throat and spin toward the stairs.
“Kate,” he starts, following me as I bound down them, “You can’t leave.”
That no nonsense tone is back but carries a hint of panic. If it were the Director of Lifeguard Services talking, that would be one thing, but it isn’t, at least not right now. And the tone, the right to issue a command of me, isn’t something Aiden’s earned back. Even after the incredible orgasm.
“I’m not leaving,” I respond, a little too sharply. “I’m getting my laptop.”
“Oh,” he replies. “Right. Good.”
Ten minutes later, we’re sitting side by side in the director’s chairs, watching as every few minutes there’s a break in the whistling wind and swirling clouds. While I’m pulling up the radar on my laptop, I say, “Donna tells me this tower was built to withstand a hundred-year storm.”
He glances over. “You wouldn’t be here now if that wasn’t true.”
There he goes again, acting like he’s in charge of my protection. But rather than annoyance, I feel…cherished.
But I dismiss the thought almost instantly and clear my throat, focusing on the screen and getting back to business.
“The storm’s likely to get downgraded now that it’s reached land.” I point out the eye of Hurricane Aiden on the screen. It’s almost fifty miles north of Love Beach.
“Why is that?”
“After a hurricane makes landfall, it loses access to the warm ocean waters which serve as its primary energy source. When that happens, the storm’s ability to draw heat from the ocean diminishes. Over land, the air is typically drier and contains more aerosol particles, which results in reduced moisture content being drawn into the system. As a result, cloud coverage declines, and the air cools before sinking. This disrupts the hurricane’s secondary circulation, impeding the formation of crucial thunderstorms within the system.”
When Aiden doesn’t respond, I glance over to find him watching me.
“What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.
“You—” he starts then stops and looks off into the gray clouds and runs a hand through his hair.
“What?”
“You’re brilliant.”
I scoff. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“No, really,” he insists, his head whipping back in my direction, “I always knew you were, but now… Now, there’s no denying it.”
There’s a melancholy in his words—or maybe in the way his brows furrow—but he means it. There’s no mistaking the authenticity of his insistence.
“Why did you become a lifeguard?” I ask, preferring to change the subject rather than discuss my IQ. Plus, I want to learn more about how he got to where he is.
But rather than answer, a muscle works in his jaw. “Do you love it?”
My stomach drops. “Love what?”
“Your work? Being a meteorologist?”
Something in my gut tells me there’s more to his question than pure curiosity. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m just curious.”
The instant reply, or maybe the tone, confirms there’s more under the surface than still water, but I’m unsure what. I pause and consider my response carefully, thinking about the drab office back in Miami and my boss, of course, who leaves something to be desired.
Do I love it? Sure, this job is what I always wanted, what I worked hard for eight years to obtain. And, especially, now that I’ve had the opportunity to get out in the field, my passion has, in some ways, been reignited. But there’s still something missing. A void I can’t quite put my finger on that’s leaving me unfulfilled, even though I’ve reached the goal I thought would make me happy.
“There are things about it I enjoy.”
He cocks an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Not a resounding yes, if you ask me.”
“What about you then?” I snap. “Do you love being the Director of Lifeguard Services?”
“I do.”
No hesitation. No consideration.
“Why? What do you love about it?”
He glances off, watching sheets of rain stream down the windows in thick rivulets. “I never saw myself as a leader, but here, I’m in service to others. The public, of course, but also my team. It’s rewarding. Plus, no two days are alike and I get to be outdoors. I was never good cooped up, you know.”
“I know.” I nod. “But what got you into this line of work? When I left, you were still valeting at the country club.”
“And making good money.”
“So why the change, then?”
“It,” he starts then huffs a little laugh and finishes, “was Donna.”
“Aunt Donna?”
She never mentioned anything.
“She didn’t know it at the time, but I got to talking with her right after my twenty-first birthday. You’d been gone close to three years by then, and I was still at the country club.”
The fact he denotes the year by how long I’d been gone doesn’t escape me, but I ignore the twinge of vindication. Maybe he did miss me even if he never reached out. “And?”
He lifts a shoulder and lets it drop, still not meeting my gaze. “It was late, and I was drunk. She mentioned you’d selected meteorology as a major, which made sense because you were always good in science and used to love watching storms roll in from the ocean, you remember?”
How could I forget?Aiden and I used to sit on the tailgate of his old, beat-up pickup and drink Sundrop and eat peach rings for hours and talk and laugh. I swallow hard at the memory, one I haven’t thought of in years.
“I do.”
“And, well, I was ready for a change. There was a lifeguard position open, so I applied.”
“But what does me majoring in meteorology have to do with your decision?”
He finally looks over, his eyes soft. “Being a lifeguard was an opportunity to prove I could do something with my life. Serve others and…” he trails off.
“And?” I press again, despite the pit opening in the bottom of my stomach.
“And it was a way for me to feel close to you when you were hundreds of miles away. You always loved the beach and the water, and whenever I looked up at the sky and studied the clouds, it made me think of you, Kate.”
Oh.
Anger quickly replaces the surprise. He doesn’t have the right to claim how much he missed me. He was the reason I left. “I only left because you made it clear there wasn’t a future between us, Aiden.”
He opens his mouth, but the ring of my cell phone cuts him off. I snatch it up and, with a glance at the screen, answer the call from my boss.