Chapter 17
seventeen
LUCY
What if it’s weird?
That’s the question looping in my head as I pace around my flat, my hiking boots squeaking against the laminate floor. What if it’s awkward? Stilted? What if we run out of things to say halfway up the trail and end up spending the rest of the day pretending not to notice?
I’m good with people. I’ve built a career out of smiling and small talk and knowing when someone needs an extra drizzle of honey in their tea. But this isn’t that. This is him.
A rumble of tires on gravel cuts through my spiral. I dart to the window just as Aidan’s truck pulls up outside. My stomach gives one of those traitorous little flips that makes me question if I’ve eaten or just swallowed a live bird.
Bag. Door. Go.
I force myself to move before I can start overthinking again.
When I step outside, he’s already out of the truck. Sunlight catches the edges of his broad frame, haloing him in gold like some blue-collar god.
He gives me a nod—his version of a greeting—and I can’t help but notice the slight softness in his expression today.
“Morning,” Aidan says, his voice a low rumble that slides easily into the quiet hush of the morning.
“Morning!” I chirp back, my nerves buzzing just under my skin. I’m just stepping up to the truck when a high-pitched voice bursts through the glass.
“Miss Lucy!”
Isla’s face appears in the back window. “We’re going hiking!”
Aidan moves to open the door for me, and I catch the ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth. He’s probably been up since sunrise, wrestled his kid into socks, and still remembered to hold the door open. Chivalrous. Unfairly attractive.
I climb in, turning in my seat to look at Isla. “You’re going to love it. There’s this little spot by the loch where the view will knock your socks off.”
Her eyes go wide. “Will there be fish? What about birds? Will there be bears? Do you have snacks?”
The questions tumble out of her in a joyful stream, and I answer as best I can, smiling so hard it makes my cheeks ache. She’s a little firework in a booster seat, and something about the way she looks at me like I know every secret in the world makes something in my chest pinch, then bloom.
“Ready?” Aidan asks.
“Absolutely.”
We ease onto the road and Isla’s voice bubbles up again immediately.
She doesn’t leave space for nerves with the way she chatters about everything and nothing.
Asking if I like peanut butter on toast—yes.
If I’ve ever seen a deer up close—once. And whether flowers grow better when you sing to them—jury’s still out, but I say yes to keep the magic alive.
She’s a one girl welcome wagon, barreling through any potential uncomfortable silence with enough enthusiasm that makes it impossible not to smile.
Every few minutes, I catch Aidan sneaking a look my way. It’s like he’s waiting to see if I’ll get tired of the noise, or if the nonstop chatter will wear thin.
As if. I’m soaking up every second.
He doesn’t say much, but I can tell he’s listening. His hands firm on the wheel, his jaw a little less tight than usual. Isla’s energy seems to settle something in him, too.
Then she launches into an animated tale about a rainbow-feathered bird she swears she saw once “in real life, not in a book,” complete with hand gestures and dramatic reenactments.
I glance over just in time to catch another pull at the corner of Aidan’s mouth. Still not a full-blown smile exactly, but I’m starting to think I might see it soon.
None of this is awkward like I feared it might be. Not even close. It’s…easy. Natural.
The road snakes through the hills, the morning light casting golden highlights over the endless stretch of heather. The view never fails to catch me off guard, no matter how many times I drive through.
“Wow,” Isla whispers from the backseat, her nose pressed against the window. “It’s so pretty.”
I turn just enough to catch her expression—wide-eyed wonder, pure and unfiltered. “Just wait until you see the loch,” I say, smiling. “On days like today, you can see the sky in it.”
As we pull into a gravel turnout at the edge of the trailhead, Isla’s excitement ramps up to near combustible levels.
Aidan catches her eyes in the rearview mirror, lifting a brow in that dad way of his, but there’s nothing stern in his expression. If anything, it’s soft. Playful. The version of Aidan that isn’t all guarded silence and protective walls.
I want to see more of that version. I want to be the reason it surfaces, but rather than stew on that thought, I unbuckle and pretend like my heart isn’t doing stupid things just from watching him parent his kid.
“Remember the rules, Isla,” he says. “Stay where we can see you, and no running off.”
“I know, Da,” she sasses back, her enthusiasm undimmed. “Can we go now? Please?”
He nods, and we climb out of the truck. The air is cool and clean, laced with pine and damp earth. I open Isla’s door, reaching in just as she wriggles out of her seatbelt, all uncoordinated limbs and boundless energy.
“Hold on, I’ve got you.” I scoop her up before she can launch herself into the air. She giggles the second her boots hit the ground.
I crouch instinctively, tugging her jacket straight and brushing her hair out of her face like I’ve done it a hundred times before. It’s only when I rise that I notice Aidan standing a few steps away, motionless.
His gaze is fixed on me, brows drawn, lips parted. He looks…surprised.
Crap. I didn’t think. I just moved. Did I step over some invisible line?
“I—” I start, but he shakes his head almost immediately, the tension draining from his shoulders. And then it happens.
A smile. Not wide, but real. It’s like the sun breaking through clouds.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. His gaze lingers for a moment, taking in what I just did in a way that feels more profound than I anticipated.
I try to hold his gaze, but it’s too much. Too tender. I look down, not because I’m unsure, but because I’m too sure.
Don’t read into it, I tell myself.
Ha.
Too late.
Before either of us can say another word, a small hand slips into mine.
“Come on!” Isla chirps, tugging me toward the trailhead. “Are there birds here? What about squirrels? Do you think we’ll see a fox?”
Her sweet voice is full of wonder, and just like that, the moment passes, tucked away between heartbeats.
I let her lead me forward, the warmth of her hand still in mine. Aidan falls into step beside us, his usual stoic expression absent as he watches his daughter eventually skip ahead, pointing out every interesting rock and flower she spots.
“Isla, remember what I said,” he calls out as she starts to veer off the path.
“I know!” she shouts back.
There’s something so endearing about witnessing this gruff, guarded man transform into a patient, attentive father. I’ve had glimpses, but it’s a side of him I hadn’t fully grasped until now.
“She’s got a lot of energy,” I say, casting a sidelong glance at Aidan.
He nods, eyes trained on her. “Aye, that she does.”
His hands stay tucked in his pockets, broad shoulders slightly hunched against the morning chill.
I keep pace beside him, all too aware of the space between us.
It isn’t much, just a few inches of cool air, but it might as well be a canyon.
I want to close it. I want to feel the brush of his knuckles against mine. His fingers curling around my hand.
He doesn’t reach for me, though, so I tuck my own hands deeper into my coat, pretending I’m not hoping. Pretending my chest doesn’t ache a little.
I sneak another glance at him, and it’s silly how much I wish he’d look back. Just to meet my eyes and let me believe, for one second, that maybe he wants to reach for me, too.
Isla’s chatter floats ahead of us, her voice bright against the backdrop of the wind. I do my best to focus on her excitement, laughing as she asks if bears roam around here. “No bears, just the occasional sheep!” I reply, but my thoughts keep drifting back to the space between Aidan and me.
I stifle a sigh. Maybe I’m overthinking it. I’m fairly certain this is just who Aidan is. Very careful, quiet, always keeping his cards tucked close.
That tiny flutter of hope beneath my skin won’t settle, and yet…I get it.
We’re here with Isla. That’s the priority.
She’s Aidan’s whole world wrapped up in tiny legs scrambling over roots and endless questions.
I don’t want to pull focus or tilt the delicate balance he’s worked so hard to protect.
Today should be carefree and untouched by the complicated tangle of adult feelings.
So I keep my smile in place and my steps light, even as my fingers itch with the need to reach for something that isn’t mine to take.
The trees begin to thin ahead of us, the trail opening just enough to reveal glints of water shimmering in the morning sun. Isla lets out a delighted gasp, skipping ahead to press closer to the view.
“I can see it!” Isla’s eyes are wide with wonder as she inches toward the water lapping gently at the rocky shore. “Can we go closer?”
“We can, but you’ve got to hold my hand,” Aidan replies. He extends his arm, and Isla grabs onto him, her tiny fingers disappearing into his larger grip.
I hang back for a moment, letting the distance stretch so I can take them in.
Isla’s tugging him toward the edge of the loch with all her might. Aidan’s as alert as ever, watching the ground and every step she takes, a silent sentry in jeans and worn boots.
It’s not just protective—it’s instinctive, and it unravels me a little more every time I see it.
The way he moves beside her. The way he crouches without hesitation to steady her as she leans toward the water.
The way his hand lands lightly on her back, fingers splayed like a shield.
There’s something fiercely masculine about it, all rough edges tempered by tenderness, and it hits me right in the heart.
“Come see, Lucy. The water’s so cold!” Isla calls.
Aidan lifts his head, eyes meeting mine, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.
There’s a softness there, tucked behind the usual restraint. I see it. I feel it. Then he turns back to Isla, grounding her with a quiet word as she squeals and dips her fingers into the loch.
The breeze drifts over me as I make my way toward them. Isla beams up at me, cheeks flushed.
“Touch it,” she urges, pointing eagerly at the water.
I crouch down to dip my fingers in, and the cold bites, sending a jolt that makes me laugh in surprise. “Wow, you weren’t kidding!” I shake the water from my hand as Isla bursts into giggles.
Aidan chuckles low under his breath, and the sound hits me somewhere embarrassingly deep. I want to hear it again, just to feel it ripple through me like that.
“It’s a loch,” he says dryly, one corner of his mouth lifting. “It’s always cold.”
“Can we find rocks to skip?” Isla asks.
Aidan nods. “If you can find some flat ones.”
Without missing a beat, she bolts toward a pile of stones near the shore, sorting through them. The sheer determination in her tiny frame makes me laugh.
“She’s got the right idea,” I say, rising to my feet and brushing off my jeans.
Aidan watches her movements for a moment before turning his focus back to me. “She likes you, you know.”
“I like her, too,” I manage, a little breathless from how close he’s standing. “Her dad’s not half bad, either.”
That earns me a crooked grin. “Is that so?”
I shrug, feigning nonchalance even as my heart does somersaults. “Aye. Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late,” he murmurs.
A flush creeps up my neck, but before I can respond, Isla comes bounding back, her hands overflowing with stones.
Aidan crouches down to her level, examining the rocks with exaggerated seriousness. “Well done, lass. These look perfect for skipping.”
I catch myself staring as he patiently demonstrates, suddenly feeling like I’m on the outside, watching something that’s so personal between them.
The bond they share is undeniable, and it makes me wonder if I could ever find my place within it.
Just then, Aidan’s gaze darts in my direction.
I quickly look away, redirecting my attention to Isla’s animated chatter instead.
Even as I try to shift my focus, I feel his pull. It’s not the kind of thing you can ignore, and in that moment, I realize just how much I want to be a part of it.
“Lucy, come try!” Isla’s voice rings out, as if she can read my thoughts.
I glance over at her as Aidan looks up, too, a faint smirk dancing on his lips as he watches me.
I hesitate for a moment, then shrug. “Why not?”
I move toward the water’s edge, squatting down to pick up a smooth, flat stone. I’ve done this a million times as a kid, but definitely not recently. I take a breath, steadying my hand.
I flick my wrist, and the stone glides effortlessly across the water, skipping three, four times before sinking.
Isla’s jaw drops. “Whoa.”
Aidan’s expression shifts to one of amusement. “Not bad at all.”
“I grew up with two older brothers who insisted they were rock skipping champions,” I tell them. “Naturally, I couldn’t let them win without a fight. We’d spend hours slinging stones into the creek behind our house, each of us claiming victory even when none of us could agree who actually won.”
I choose another rock from the pile and send it flying. It skips another four times—maybe even five if I count generously—before vanishing beneath the surface with a satisfying plunk.
Isla gasps. “You’re so good.”
“Looks like someone’s giving me a run for my money,” Aidan says, casting a glance my way.
I peek back at him, and for a second, the world narrows to just his eyes on mine. The echo of laughter still hanging between us. The loch glittering like glass behind him.
I never did beat my brothers at skipping stones, but standing here with him, watching the ripples spread wide across the water, it kind of feels like I’ve won.