CHAPTER 11
GREYLIN
When I get a good look at my front porch, I come to a screeching halt. Right in the middle of the road without a single fucking care about blocking a damn thing. Why would I care?
I was so sure there was no way Aiden would be waiting for me when I got home today. After not hearing from him for days and with the way the day went with the health inspector bullshit, it would have been nice. But I knew it was impossible.
Which begs the question—what is Aiden doing sitting on my porch right now?
Not only is he sitting there, probably freezing, he doesn’t seem to care about who might see him or who already has.
He raises his head and our eyes lock. I barely look away from him, curiosity clawing at me about why he’s here, and somehow still manage to park and get out of my car. Every step I take seems shaky as I approach him.
The closer I get, the more pain I can see in his green eyes. As much as I want to run to him and wrap him up in my arms, I deserve an explanation first.
About why he shut down.
About why he let the conversation drop.
About why it feels like he’s been avoiding me for days now.
About what the fuck is going on.
Even though part of me is tempted to rush over to him, I keep my steps slow. I feel torn. Aiden warned us about the health inspector and his dad’s plans, but now that it’s happened, I’m not sure how to feel. I’m glad we weren’t blindsided, but did knowing change anything?
I guess we’ll never know. It doesn’t really matter anyway; we have to deal with it.
Meadow, even though she’s pissed, has put together a plan for how she’s going to tackle each item on the long list of adjustments and changes that need to be made. She’ll even do it with a smile on her face because having her bakery is a dream come true.
“What are you doing here, Aiden?” My voice is cold, but I don’t have it in me to fake it. Not right now. “I would think you wouldn’t want to potentially be seen with the enemy.”
I sound bitter, but what do you expect from me? I’m so tired of fighting against the mayor’s office even though we haven’t done anything wrong.
The people of Storyville support our business. Not everyone shops there, of course, but no one else is picking up a pitchfork and torch. Just Mayor Simmons.
Aiden stands up slowly and from the way he clenches and releases his hands, I have to wonder how long he’s been here waiting for me. I hate the thought of him being cold, but pride is a bitch. I’m not offering him a damn thing.
“I heard about what happened with the health inspector,” he swallows hard, his words strained, as he stares at me.
His eyes are imploring, like those words should be enough for me to understand everything beneath the surface which isn’t being said. I don’t understand, though.
“Okay?” I rub my forehead and sigh. “Look, I appreciate you stopping by or whatever this is, but you’ve made it clear where we stand. I texted you, but you basically blew me off. I’m not interested in playing games with you, Aiden.”
When I go to step around him, he grabs my wrist. It doesn’t hurt, but I still flinch at the contact. There’s that shock between us again, but my body’s reaction is about more than that. His hands are freezing.
It makes sense considering it is winter in Colorado, but I wasn’t prepared for his icy digits making contact.
“I’m sorry I was acting like an idiot asshole,” his voice is low and pitched just right to worm its way past my defenses.
“It had nothing to do with you. It was all me.” His green eyes bore into mine, imploring, begging without words, pleading and tugging at my heartstrings.
I’ve always been a sucker for a pitiful expression and some hangdog eyes. Damn it. “I was afraid.”
“What were you afraid of, Aiden?” I sigh, needing to know but not being sure if I’ll like the answer.
“You.” The word hangs between us and I study his face, trying to understand. He glances at the door and then at me. “Can we go inside and talk? It’s cold out here; I don’t want you to get too cold.”
And there it is.
The way he cares for me. The thoughtful way he considers me and my needs.
I nod numbly while I swallow hard and wonder where this version of him has been. It’s not like I don’t understand being scared; I do. And I realize the pressure on him is going be different because his father has a hair up his ass about my business.
Still. He showed up at my door, said a lot of sweet words, fucked me like I mattered, and then disappeared.
When we get inside, Aiden strides toward the couch again, after shedding his jacket and helping me with mine. He takes a few deep breaths and scrubs his hands over his face.
He doesn’t wait for me to join him. Not this time.
“The moment I heard about the inspection, I went to the mayor’s office,” he tells me and immediately has my attention.
The mayor’s office.
Not his father’s office.
Interesting.
When I sit, I pick the spot farthest from him and turn toward him, tucking my legs up and grabbing my blanket. He’s lucky he didn’t sit in my spot. And you know we all have them.
“First,” he sighs and glances at me, “I think we need to go back. I was older than you.”
I scoff, “Two years, what are we talking about Aiden?”
“I liked you. Back in school. I wanted to ask you out, but I didn’t.
” When he looks at me, I suck in a breath at the intensity in his gaze.
“It’s one of my biggest regrets in life.
The other was giving you time when you moved back here.
The breakup wasn’t a secret,” he whispers the words and winces.
“I get it,” I sigh. “I love my mom, but she talks to anyone who will listen.”
“She talks about you with pride.”
I blink back the tears threatening to fall. “I don’t want to talk about that. I love my parents. We’re still finding our way as adults and not just parent and child. But I always know I have a home.”
Aiden nods before looking around. “Looks like you have a home right here, darlin’.”
With a smile, I agree, “You’re right and it’s a lot to be proud of. I see what you’re doing, Officer.”
His green eyes darken, his gaze sliding down my body like a caress. A distracting caress.
“I planned to give you some time,” he admits and clears his throat, “you know, after you moved back. Then before I could get in front of it and make my move, lines were drawn and I felt like I had to at least stay away for the only family I have left. My only parent.” He hangs his head slightly. “And that was before you even opened.”
“He didn’t make it easy on us,” I whisper.
Aiden’s jaw clenches. “I tried to reason with him. He would never listen. Never,” the anger in his voice, the disappointment, has me clenching my fists right along with him.
“There was no need for him to make it harder on you all. None. It’s a solid business.
The space is nice and comfortable. You treat each area separately and work as a unit for events.
I’ve been blown away since I heard about it and now seeing it in practice? It’s something else.”
“You think all that?” I shake my head and sit up a little straighter. “I just mean, I didn’t think you’d ever been inside. How do you know so much about it? And, you know,” I wave my hand up and down his body, “you don’t have an issue with our business?”
He mimics my hand motion and teases, “I have no idea what this means, Greylin.”
I huff and roll my eyes, doing it again. “You know. A cop. The fuzz. Donut shop aficionado. 5-O. The po-po. I won’t say the other one because it doesn’t seem appropriate in mixed company.”
He barks out a laugh, his green eyes sparkling for the first time since I found him on my porch. The sadness on his face doesn’t look quite as heavy. Good.
“Is the mixed company in question a pig?” He teases.
My jaw drops before I start laughing. He joins me and the tension breaks. And some of the hurt from not hearing from him eases.
“I don’t have an issue with it,” he tells me. “You work within the law. It’s not my job to interpret, judge, or change the law. It is just my job to protect people. Sometimes that involves arresting people. But you ladies are above board.”
His words from earlier, his emphasis on his dad being the only parent he has left, makes me wonder about something. I’ve never asked. I’ve never even heard anyone talk about it.
“Aiden,” I whisper before scooching closer to him, “what happened to your mom? I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone talk about her.”
The look on his face—pure desolation—breaks my heart. I slide onto his lap, pulling my blanket around us like a cocoon. He sinks back into the couch and wraps his arms around me like he’s afraid I’ll move.
“We were both little when mom decided she didn’t want married life. She walked away, joined a commune, and spiritually married five guys. I think they say collective now, but that’s kind of new still,” he tries to make light of it, but I see it.
The pain.
“I wasn’t even two,” his voice cracks.
My arms slide around his neck and I hold him. He buries his face in my hair, and I think over what this means. This is the reason the mayor came after us.
As if he can read my mind, his words come out muffled, “It was never about you and your friends. It was always about her. He never let it go. It was too much of a hit to his ego. The way he talked about her,” he shudders and I run my hands over his back, wrapping myself around him tighter as if to shield him, protect him.
Someone fucking needs to.
His father didn’t; he was the one who never cared about the weapons he wielded.
His mother didn’t; she chose to find another life and leave the past behind.
At what cost?
“I’m sorry, Aiden.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t remember her. I don’t think York does either.” He sighs. “Everything was transactional growing up, even love. If you made the cut, dad was proud of you, and it felt good. If you didn’t, you never heard the end of it. The pressure was,” he shudders.