Chapter 19
nineteen
LUCY
The walk back to the car is quieter. Isla skips ahead, humming to herself and blissfully unaware while I trail behind, stealing glances at Aidan.
He’s not looking at me.
His jaw is clenched so tight, grinding back whatever’s on his mind. It could be nothing. Maybe it’s just end-of-day fatigue. Or maybe…it’s me.
I thought we’d been having a good time. There were smiles.
Laughter. That moment by the water, where it felt like something had shifted.
I thought I could sense that he wanted more by the way he looked at me, except now he’s miles away, and I don’t know how to bridge the gap without making it worse.
Did I misread the whole day? Was I too much? Too present, too eager, too in it?
I want to grab his hand, force the words out, ask him what’s wrong, but I also don’t want to push him further into whatever shell he’s retreating into. So, I just keep walking, heart sinking with every step, wishing he’d look at me the way he did earlier.
This was probably a bad idea. I never meant to cross a line. I just didn’t realize it was there until I was already on the other side of it.
“Aidan,” I start softly, not wanting Isla to overhear. “I hope I didn’t overstep. I know this is your time with Isla, and I—”
He cuts me off with a terse shake of his head. “It’s fine.”
Judging by the way his gaze slides away instead of meeting mine, it doesn’t seem fine. His tone is controlled in that way people get when they’re trying to put distance between you without saying it outright.
“You didn’t do anything,” he adds, his voice still clipped.
I flinch. It’s subtle, just a small shift in my posture, but he notices. His storm cloud eyes finally come back to mine, the muscle in his jaw ticking.
Still, he doesn’t try to explain or soften the edges. Just leaves the words hanging there between us.
I swallow hard, pressing the burn in my chest into something smaller, something more manageable. This isn’t about me. It’s what I tell myself as I look away. This is his daughter, his world. I’m just orbiting it, and I have to respect that. Even if it hurts a bit. Or a lot.
“Okay.” I force a small smile that feels like it might crack. “If you’re sure.”
We continue walking in silence. Isla hums ahead of us, hopping over roots and stones like this is still just a perfect day. Then, just before we reach the car, Aidan stops short.
“Lucy,” he says, finally turning to me. “I’m not… I’m not good at this.”
I look up at him, heart thrumming. “At what?”
He exhales slowly. His eyes meet mine, and for once, they don’t look away. “Letting people in.”
And there it is. Not an invitation. Not quite a warning, either. Just the truth.
I wait, holding my breath, afraid to break whatever fragile thread of honesty that’s making him open up. My heart beats faster, but I keep quiet, letting the silence stretch, needing him to keep going.
“If it’s all right,” he finally continues, “I’ll see if I can drop Isla off with my mum for a bit. I’d like to, uh…have some time. With you.”
He shifts his weight, rubbing the back of his neck as if he’s not sure how to handle what he just said. It’s clear he’s out of his depth with his guard down. It’s vulnerable. Unexpected. And kind of ridiculously charming.
Here’s the thing about me, though. When I get nervous, I laugh. Not a cute, contained little giggle. No, it’s breathless, irrepressible, mortifying laughter. It’s not a choice. It just…happens.
And this? Aidan, after shutting down and shutting me out, suddenly offering time alone? My brain short-circuits. My heart skips a beat. My stomach does a backflip. Then, I laugh.
It starts as a tiny huff, bubbling up, unstoppable. A full-blown hoot tumbles out of me. I slap a hand over my mouth, but it’s too late.
Aidan’s brows pull together, his head tilting slightly. His gaze drops to my mouth, eyes searching, probably wondering if I’m laughing at him.
“Sorry!” I manage between gasps, wiping tears from my eyes. “I’m not laughing at you. I just… I do this when I get nervous.”
He blinks, processing, before his mouth tugs into that slow, reluctant smile I’ve started to crave. His shoulders ease just a little, and the heaviness between us vanishes.
“Should I consider that a maybe to spending some time with me?” he asks dryly.
Just like that, I can breathe again. I should probably be concerned that a mere half smile from him feels like the only thing I need to exist, but…well, here we are.
I take a deep breath, attempting to quell the laughter still threatening to bubble over. “Aye, you can consider it a maybe,” I tease.
“I’ll take it.”
Just then, Isla comes bounding back to us. “Daddy, can we get ice cream?”
He winces. “Not today, love. How about you go spend some time with Nana instead?”
“Oh, yes! She’ll get me ice cream!”
Aidan rolls his eyes, even though there’s nothing but affection in his gaze.
“I think you’re outnumbered,” I joke.
He shakes his head. “Don’t remind me.”
We approach the truck, and Isla scrambles into her seat. Aidan is quick, already there, guiding her and clicking the straps into place.
“Not too tight?” he asks, his voice softening as he checks the fit.
“Nope! Perfect,” she chirps, swinging her feet and beaming up at him.
He slides into the driver’s seat, adjusting the rearview mirror and glancing at Isla as she launches into a monologue about the merits of sprinkles versus chocolate sauce.
Aidan drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the center console. Though his eyes are fixed on the road ahead, I catch the faintest twitch of his lips every now and then, the smallest sign that he’s tuned into every word Isla is saying.
His mum’s house looks like it always smells of roses and fresh laundry. All stone walls and flowerpots, with ivy climbing one side. Isla’s already halfway out of her seat before we’re in park, her fingers fumbling at the buckle as I roll down my window.
“Well, hello there!” Aileen calls, stepping onto the path with open arms.
Aidan gets out of the truck and has barely set Isla down on her feet before she launches herself into her grandmother’s embrace. “Daddy says you’ll get me ice cream!”
Her gaze lifts to Aidan with a smirk. “Did he now?”
Aidan shrugs, and there’s something boyish in the way he does it. “She negotiated better terms than I could offer.”
“Mmm,” she hums, clearly amused, and then her gaze slides to me.
“Hello there, Lucy.”
I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, suddenly feeling like a teenager being sized up for intentions I haven’t even fully admitted to myself. Which is absurd. It’s not like that.
Except maybe it is. A little.
I’ve known Aidan’s mum for a while now. She comes into the café from time to time, but showing up with Aidan like this is…new.
I give her a wave from the truck before Isla starts chattering away about ice cream.
Aidan ruffles her hair before she dashes inside, then heads back toward me.
He gets in the truck but doesn’t move to drive just yet.
He sits there, forearms balanced on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on something in the distance.
His knuckles flex white then relax as he stares straight ahead.
“I’m sorry,” he says finally, voice rough like he had to drag the words up from somewhere deep. “For earlier. At the loch.”
I study his profile, the strong line of his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows.
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“I do.” He turns to face me then, and the rawness in his expression steals my breath. “You deserve that much.”
His hand slides off the steering wheel, hovering in the space between us before settling on mine, finally gifting me the contact I’ve been craving all day. His palm is warm, calloused in places that tell stories of hard work and long days.
“Seeing you with Isla… The way she looks at you,” he starts, then pauses, searching for words. “It’s a lot.”
My heart drops. “Too much?”
He shakes his head slowly. “No. That’s the problem.”
His thumb moves over my knuckles, an absentminded back and forth that seems to ground him, and somehow me along with him. Nothing has ever felt so right.