Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kate
W hen I yawned, Aiden said it was time for him to go.
“Thank you for helping me paint my room.” I walked him down the stairs.
“Seemed like the least I could do after I lost you your job.”
He looked so dejected, I patted his arm. “Not your fault. That was on me.”
At the bottom of the stairs, he drew me into his arms. I stilled at the touch of his lips on my neck.
He ran his mouth up to my ear. He nibbled the fleshy lobe before his warm tongue soothed the gentle bites, and I went limp.
His mouth was against my throat, one hand dragging down my back, the other holding my hip in place.
When he bit, my knees gave out. If he weren’t holding me up, I would have fallen into a puddle on the floor.
He dipped his head, his mouth brushing across mine, whisper soft, his kiss an entreaty. I leaned forward, mindlessly searching for more. His hand wrapped around my neck to tilt my head back. His tongue slid like velvet against my own. I gripped his biceps, pulling myself closer.
He was just dragging his hand down my back, fingers beginning to knead my butt, when his phone chimed, echoing through the still room.
He reluctantly let me go to check it. Aiden got himself back in control more quickly than I did.
He ran his hand through his hair, turned from me, and spoke into the phone.
I was barely able to aim myself toward the couch before my legs gave up the pretense of holding me vertical.
My whole body was still vibrating, his phantom kisses alive on my skin. Part of my brain registered Aiden’s low grumble as he spoke, but the rest was drowning in a swampy mire of lust, confusion, fear—and let’s not forget the lust.
Aiden ended his call but stood staring at the door a moment too long.
“Everything okay?”
He shook his head, still not looking at me. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” He reached for the doorknob. “I need to go.” His back still to me.
“What happened?”
“Heather—my dispatcher—her husband walked out on her.” He turned back, glaring.
“Kindest woman you’ll ever meet. Blindsided.
I need to go. See what I can do to help.
She was crying.” He shook his head. “I know a little something about getting my ass dumped.” He reached for the door again and stepped through.
Hesitating, he looked like he wanted to walk back in. “Goodbye.”
Oh, I guess not.
* * *
After a fitful night’s sleep, I dozed in the soft, early-morning light, the sun diffused by the new sheer drapes.
Snuggled in my feather bed, I opened my eyes to the soft twilight of my walls.
Chaucer padded over and nudged my elbow with his cold, wet nose.
“Quit it. I’m sleeping over here.” It was no use, though.
The damn dog could hear it when I opened my eyes.
He wanted food and his morning constitutional.
Faking sleep never worked. He just got more and more pushy until I got up.
“Fine, fine, fine,” I said as I threw back the covers. “But I’m coming back later for a nap.”
He gave me his best inscrutable look and waited for me to slip on my sweats and slippers.
“You’re a damn annoying dog, you know that?
” His response was a patient, long-suffering stare.
As soon as I opened the bedroom door, he rushed out, bumping me off my stride.
In his defense, he was almost twice my size, but would a little more delicacy be too much to ask?
When I got to the top of the stairs, his bushy tail was rounding the corner at the bottom on its way to the kitchen.
I’d found a wedding photo of Grandpa and Gran when I was cleaning a few weeks ago. I’d polished and hung it on the wall along the stairs so I could see it every day. I slowed now, as I often did, to say good morning.
They were married at Holy Redeemer, a beautiful stone church in town, the one we always attended when I visited.
In the photo, they’re standing on the steps, just having emerged from the huge open double doors.
They’re surrounded by cheering friends and family whose arms are raised, rice flying, appearing to be caught in an unseasonable snowstorm.
But even in the midst of that joy, your eye couldn’t help but be drawn to the young, incandescent couple at its center, clutching one another’s hands and running through the onslaught, ready to face whatever life threw at them. Together.
My wedding photos were staged and elegant. We looked perfect but lacked what my grandparents had. There was no room for the chaos of love and life in the facade of a perfect wedding, a perfect marriage. Perfection was a cold and lifeless thing.
By the time I got to the kitchen, Chaucer was sitting by the pantry door, his food bowl clamped in his mouth, just in case I was confused about what should happen first.
“Man, you’re a nag.” I took his bowl and nudged him away so I could open the pantry door to fill his dish.
He didn’t even wait for the dish to hit the floor before he started inhaling the kibble.
“Slow down! If you choke, I have no idea how to give a dog the Heimlich.” I opened the back door for him.
“Seriously, are you under the impression that if you eat it quickly enough, I’ll just forget I’ve fed you and fill your bowl again?
It’s never going to happen, bud. Give up the dream. ”
I walked out onto the porch. The morning was chillier than yesterday. Burnished leaves swirled in the wind; waves pounded the nearby cliff. Chaucer brushed past me on his way to the little boy’s room in the forest.
I was just turning around to start the coffeemaker when I heard his deep, anxious bark.
I jogged out to the porch again, looking for him, listening to the increasingly insistent howling.
“Chaucer, where are you?” I ran out and found him crouched by the storm cellar doors, growling, then whining as he scratched at the door.
I went to him, weaving my fingers into his ruff. “What is it, baby? What’s down there?”
It better not be another fawn. Just in case it was, I took out my phone and called the first person I thought of.
It went straight to voicemail. “Hi, Connor. That growling and barking you’re probably hearing is Chaucer, pawing at the cellar door.
I could totally do this on my own, because I am not the least bit afraid of dark, cobweb-ridden, rodent-filled cellars.
At all. I just thought you might be bored and interested in going down there first. I didn’t want to cheat you out of a manly experience.
” I took a deep breath and braced myself.
“Okay, I’ve probably stalled long enough.
I’ll keep you on the phone, so to speak, just so you don’t miss a bit of the action.
Here goes.” I heaved the door open and the biggest rat I’d ever seen came running out, scampering over my slippers, heading for the trees.
I screamed. I’m not proud, but, holy hell, that thing was huge!
“Sorry, sorry,” I said into the phone. “I’m fine.
Chaucer! Get back here! Right now, mister.
That thing probably has rabies. At the very least, it’s been irradiated.
I mean, that rat must have been two feet long.
What the hell is with Maine rats—oh, wait, was that an opossum?
I’ve never seen one, only heard their squeaky conversations with those damn snarky marmosets. Huh. Okay, never mind.” I hung up.
Two hours later, I was on my knees in the garden, weeding. Chaucer had flopped down under a nearby tree. Suddenly he sat up, giving a soft woof. When I looked around, I found Connor watching me, a tender expression on his face.
“Hello, honey. It sounded like you had a big morning. Any more irradiated rodents come looking for you?” He enjoyed a good laugh at my expense.
I rolled my eyes and stood, brushing off the knees of my jeans.
“Whatever. How the heck am I supposed to know what an opossum looks like? For all you know, you do have radioactive varmints running around in these woods. You’ll be sorry you mocked me when one bites you in the butt and you mutate into some creepy rat man. ”
He continued chuckling while I put away the gardening tools. “Not that you deserve my hospitality, but would you like a drink, Connor?”
“I’d love one; thanks.” His eyes twinkled.
He strolled up to the porch while I went in for refreshments. I filled a tray with two glasses of iced tea and a plate of cookies.
He looked surprised when I returned to him. “Mmm, what are these?”
“Blueberry snickerdoodles. It seemed like a good idea. Let me know what you think.”
He bit into one and his eyes fluttered closed. My pride swelled.
“Delicious! So, word is you went on a date with Bear a couple of weeks ago.”
“I guess nothing’s secret in this town.” I took a cookie and said, “I realize I barely know him, but I love that guy.”
The smile fell off Connor’s face. “Oh, is that so?”
“What?” Shit. Was he a serial killer after all?
Connor recovered himself. “Nothing. I just didn’t expect you to fall for him so quickly.”
I could feel my cheeks heat. “No, no. That’s not what I meant. We had a great time, and he was totally fun. I just really like him is all.” I took a cookie. “He seemed annoyed when Aiden showed up.”
Connor choked a little on his iced tea. “Aiden showed up on your date?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. He said he saw my car in the parking lot of the Chart Room, so he came in to say hi. He ended up sitting down and eating with us.” I jumped up. “Which reminds me.”
I ran in the house and retrieved Aiden’s hat from the table by the stairs.
I didn’t want to keep his hat, especially since he was acting so strange before he left.
That goodbye of his felt more final than was warranted.
I brought the hat out to the porch and handed it to Connor.
“Could you return this to Aiden for me? He loaned me his hat.”