15. Aiden
Aiden
Paige is two minutes early, and I have already been waiting outside for ten.
Josie stands beside me on the front walk, hugging a library book to her chest while she watches Paige’s SUV turn into my parents’ driveway. Mom has twice called us inside. Josie refuses because she wants to greet Paige first.
I stayed, understanding the impulse.
Paige parks beside my truck and steps out wearing dark jeans, a green blouse, and the cautious expression of a woman approaching a house that may contain thirty hidden relatives.
She lifts the canvas bag on her shoulder. “One book, one bottle of wine, and a fully charged phone.”
“Planning an escape?”
“Documenting the first known small Slade dinner.”
I take the wine from her and lean down to kiss her. She fists a handful of my shirt, holding me there for a long beat, her knuckles pressing into my chest.
Josie heaves an exaggerated sigh. “You can do that after dinner.”
Paige releases me and looks at her. “I think you inherited your father’s scheduling problem.”
“Dad likes plans.”
“I’ve noticed.”
Her smile eases the watchfulness in her eyes. I want to walk her inside with my arm around her and let everyone see that she chose to come. That would turn her decision into a performance before she reaches the door.
I settle for taking her bag. “The guest list is exactly what I promised. Mom, Dad, the three of us, Axel, Sadie, Poppy, Adrienne, Scotty, and Silas.”
“No cousins waiting behind the curtains?”
“Dad suggested one uncle might stop by. I threatened to move dinner to my house.”
“Effective.”
“Mom will try to feed you twice and Dad will tease you. Axel and Adrienne team up when they sense weakness.”
“I learned that at the library.”
“Sadie will help unless she thinks watching is funnier. Scotty stays quiet until he can do the most damage. Silas throws food. Poppy will ask what you’re reading.”
“Useful. What will Josie do?”
“I’m right here,” Josie says.
Paige glances at her. “That answers my question.”
We start toward the house, but I stop before the porch steps. “What do you need from me?”
Paige studies me. “You practiced that question.”
“I considered several versions.”
“Of course you did.” She shifts closer. “Please don’t hover.”
“I don’t hover.”
“You’re standing close enough to catch me if I trip over a blade of grass.”
I take half a step away. “Better?”
She catches my wrist, places my hand against the small of her back, and leaves it there. “This is fine. Just don’t start steering.”
Her permission sends a low thrum of heat through my veins. I keep my palm still. “Understood.”
Josie takes Paige’s free hand as we climb the steps. Paige looks down at their joined fingers, then at me, and I fight the urge to build a future out of a single walk into my parents’ house.
Paige chose tonight. I keep my attention there instead of trying to turn one dinner into proof of anything beyond it.
Mom opens the door before we reach it.
“There’s my girl.” She crouches, and Josie releases Paige to throw both arms around her grandmother’s neck. Mom hugs her tight, kissing her hair before leaning back to examine the glittery clip above her ear. “Did your dad manage that?”
“I did it myself,” Josie says. “Daddy said it was too dangerous.”
“It has teeth,” I remind her.
Mom stands and turns to Paige. “I’m glad you came, Paige.”
She says her name, and her welcome is just that—a welcome. Not a claim, not an expectation. I see it in the directness of her gaze.
Paige’s shoulders ease beneath my hand. “Thank you for having me.”
Dad appears behind Mom with a dish towel over one shoulder. “You’ll be pleased to know I personally counted everyone in the house. Ten people plus one toddler. No cousins.”
Axel looks around the doorway. “We hid the cousins in the basement.”
“Ignore your uncle,” I tell Josie.
“Which one?” Paige asks.
Dad grins. “Aiden made me swear no one else would wander in.”
“He threatened to confiscate my phone,” Mom adds.
“I said I’d screen your calls,” I say.
Paige looks up at me. “Should I be worried that I find this level of enforcement reassuring?”
“No.” My thumb moves once against her back. “I promised you ten people plus a toddler.”
Josie lifts the book she has protected all evening and rushes into the living room.
She holds the book up. “Everybody look. Paige picked this one for me because she knows exactly which stories I like.”
Poppy lifts her head from the rug the instant Josie makes her announcement.
“Which book?”
Josie holds it out. “The princess one with the bunnies.”
“I told Uncle Aiden that one was good before he even met Paige.”
Paige looks at me. “You came with references?”
“I conducted extensive research.”
“You asked two children and still required professional assistance.”
Josie drops beside Poppy, and they open the book between them. Poppy points out her favorite illustration, and Josie leans in to warn her, “But the cute bunnies eat everything.”
“I understand that struggle,” Axel says. “Poppy used to hide snacks under her bed.”
“I was saving them,” Poppy says.
“For winter?” Sadie asks.
Poppy considers it. “Maybe.”
Paige laughs, and the caution she carried through the door begins to dissolve.
Dinner is loud, but when I glance at her, Paige isn’t flinching from the chaos. Mom seats us around the dining table before anyone can suggest adding another leaf, then assigns Dad to the far end with Silas because he claims he has superior toddler negotiation skills.
Silas disproves that by throwing his spoon at him.
Dad catches it against his chest. “He respects me.”
“He’s testing your reflexes,” Scotty says.
“Same thing.”
Adrienne wipes Silas’s hand while Scotty retrieves the cup he shoved to the floor. Axel passes Poppy the potatoes without her asking. Sadie takes one look at the amount he served her and moves half onto his plate. Mom reaches for Josie’s empty milk glass, but I am already filling it.
Paige watches it all from beside me, her gaze moving around the table. No one asks for help. Food and napkins appear. A spill is handled, chicken is cut, rolls are remembered from the kitchen. This is family: a dozen small gestures that mean no one has to carry the weight alone.
Dad points his fork toward Paige. “You should know Aiden wasn’t always this organized.”
“I find that difficult to believe.”
“He used to make schedules for the three of them,” Mom says. “Adrienne ignored hers, Axel lost his, and Aiden followed everyone around explaining where they were supposed to be.”
“I was the only responsible one.”
“You were seven,” Adrienne says.
“And responsible.”
Axel reaches for his water at the same time I do. Adrienne picks up hers without looking, all three glasses lifting together.
Paige stares at us. “That was unsettling.”
Dad grins. “We stopped buying matching cups because they still fought over the same one.”
“Adrienne bit me over the blue cup,” Axel says.
“You tried to steal it.”
“It was mine.”
“It was plastic.” I drain my water glass. “And we had six.”
Adrienne points at me. “You cried.”
“You bit me too.”
Scotty looks across the table at his wife. “I’m learning a lot tonight.”
“You knew I had brothers.”
“I didn’t know you treated them as emergency food.”
Paige laughs hard enough to lean into my shoulder. I kiss her temple without weighing whether the affection is too public. She tilts her face toward mine, smiling, and her hand settles on my thigh beneath the table.
Dad notices because Dad notices everything.
He wisely turns his attention to Silas.
Conversation shifts to the library’s summer program when Poppy asks Paige whether the reading challenge includes graphic novels.
“Graphic novels count as reading,” Paige says. “Audiobooks count too.”
Poppy brightens. “Mom said they did.”
“Your mom is right.”
Sadie lifts her glass. “I’d like that entered into the official record.”
“Careful,” Adrienne says. “Agree with Sadie once and we’ll expect you at every family argument. You’re family now. You have voting responsibilities.”
Paige’s fingers still against my leg. The change is slight, but I catch it.
“She said yes to dinner,” I say. “Don’t assign her a position.”
Adrienne’s gaze moves between us, understanding arriving quickly. “Fair. Dinner guest with no voting obligations.”
“And veto power over future invitations,” Paige adds.
“Now you sound like legal counsel.”
“I work with the public. I understand the value of clear policies.”
The conversation moves on without anyone making the correction bigger than it needs to be. Paige’s hand relaxes against my thigh, and her fingers lace through mine.
After dinner, we move into the living room while Mom brings out brownies and insists she does not need help. Josie and Poppy sit together with their books. Silas toddles between Dad and Scotty, delivering the same wooden block to each of them as though they are stationed along an assembly line.
Paige sinks into the cushion beside me.
“You caught that,” she murmurs.
“I promised I wouldn’t steer.”
“You didn’t.” Her thumb moves over my knuckles. “Thank you.”
Her body eases against mine, warm and willing, with her hand still holding mine. She leans more fully into my side, and I let myself believe it means she wants to stay.
By the time the brownies are gone, Paige is still tucked against me with her legs angled toward mine.
Mom starts collecting dessert plates, and Paige lets go of me to stand.
“Tell me where these go.”
“You’re a guest,” Mom says.
“I’m capable of carrying dishes while visiting.”
“She’s going to win,” I tell Mom.
“I know. I raised one just like her.” Mom hands Paige two more plates and points toward the kitchen. “Aiden can show you where everything goes.”
Dad snorts from his chair. “Subtle, Deven.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
Paige looks at me. “Does your mother usually arrange private kitchen assignments?”
“Only when she likes someone.”
Mom gives me a warning look. “I arrange help where I need it.”
“With an empty dishwasher?”
“Go away, Aiden.”
Paige carries the plates into the kitchen, laughing. I set the brownie pan on the island while she opens the wrong cabinet.
“Plates are on the other side.”
“Your mother said you were showing me.”
“I got distracted.”
She glances over her shoulder. “By the deeply erotic sight of me loading a dishwasher?”
“By you in my parents’ kitchen.”
The amusement in her expression softens.
I take the plates from her and put them away, then catch her hand before she can reach for anything else.
“Thank you for coming tonight.”
“You thanked me outside.”
“That was for accepting the invitation.” I draw her closer. “This is for staying after Adrienne attempted to give you voting rights.”
“I survived.”
“You did better than survive.”
“I like them.” She slides her hands over my chest. “Your family makes more sense now.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It explains why you treat love like a group project.”
I narrow my eyes at the accuracy. “I protected you from the group.”
“You did.” Her fingers curl into my shirt. “I noticed.”
“Wanting you here and deciding for you are separate things. I’m learning the difference.”
Her gaze holds mine. “You’re getting very good at saying the right thing.”
“I’m better at showing you.”
“I’ve noticed that too.”
I kiss her with one hand at her waist and the other cupping the side of her neck. Paige rises into me immediately, opening beneath my mouth as I back her against the counter.
The kiss deepens, turning desperate.
Her fingers slide into my hair, and her tongue meets mine with enough intent to erase that my family is twenty feet away. I press in between her thighs, my hand tightening on her hip.
Paige bites my lower lip.
“Careful,” I murmur.
“Why?”
“Because I have to walk back into that living room.”
Her smile brushes my mouth. “Sounds like a personal problem.”
She kisses me again, slower this time, then drags one hand down my stomach. A sharp, immediate heat coils in my gut at her touch.
“Paige.”
“What?” Her fingertips skim the top of my belt. “You said you were better at showing me.”
I catch her wrist, stilling her hand on my belt. Her eyes darken.
“You want me to show you here?”
Her lips part.
“Dad,” Josie calls from the doorway. “Grandma says the ice cream is in the freezer right above you.”
Paige drops her forehead against my chest, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
I look over my shoulder. Josie stands with two empty bowls, one hip jutted out.
“Tell Grandma we found it.”
“She said you forgot it.”
“I was busy.”
“Living room, Josie,” I say.
She disappears with the bowls.
Paige lifts her face. “Your daughter is going to tell everyone.”
“They already know exactly why Mom sent us in here.”
“That’s horrifying.”
“You started it.”
“And I regret nothing.”
I kiss her once more, a quick brush of lips, then take the ice cream from the freezer.
Twenty minutes later, I walk Paige outside. The noise of the house, and of Josie saying goodnight for the third time, follows us through the open door into the yellow wash of the porch light.
Paige stops beside her SUV. “I had a good time.”
“I know.”
“You sound pleased with yourself.”
“I’m pleased with you.”
Her brows lift.
“With your choice,” I clarify. “I’m keeping the distinction clear.”
“Good recovery.”
“I’ve had a demanding teacher.”
She runs her thumb along my jaw. “Are you and Josie busy next Friday?”
“We can be free.”
“That answer was suspiciously fast.”
“I know our schedule.”
“Of course you do.” She takes a breath. “Come to my cabin for the night. Both of you. We can make dinner, take the easy trail if Josie wants, and read on the porch. I have a spare room for her.”
I clamp down on every plan already forming in my head. “We’d like that.”
“You’re speaking for her.”
“You’re right. I’ll ask her.” I glance toward the house. “I’m confident she’ll say yes to the cabin, the trail, and unlimited access to your books.”
“Confident is acceptable. Deciding isn’t.”
“Understood.”
Paige smiles. “Next Friday, then.”
After one last kiss, she gets into her SUV.
I stand in the driveway until her taillights disappear. Paige has protected her cabin from every expectation I brought to her door. Now she has invited my daughter into the quietest, most private part of her life.
Next Friday, I’ll bring Josie to Paige’s cabin. One chosen night. It will be enough.