I’d made peace with the loss of Beth, and what it might mean for my future. Grieving my wife, grieving the absence of her sweet, funny nature, the knowledge that Anya may not remember her when she grew up. Not once in the past two years had I met a woman who stirred up any sort of reaction.
So, while nothing had happened with Isabel, inside me, it didn’t feel like nothing.
It felt an awful lot like someone had flipped a switch whose location had been kept a secret, even from me. It wasn’t like I’d been fumbling around in the dark, trying to force attraction to someone. There was no empty gap in my life that I was looking to fill.
But now, all I could think about was how she would’ve responded if I’d slid my hand behind her neck and took her mouth with mine. How well she’d fit me, how well we’d move together because she already proved she could match me step for step. If I allowed the images to progress with Isabel, I’d never have to worry about breaking her, because the likely truth was that she’d probably have me on my back and at her mercy before we ever got to that point.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
Mom tsked. “Language. I raised you better than to curse in front of me.”
Eloise cackled with glee. “Ohhhh, this is good. Come on, give us the scoop.”
“Is she pretty?” my mom asked.
Eloise sighed. “Mom, we do not reduce a woman’s worth to their physical features anymore. She can be pretty and a raging bitch monster with the IQ of a salad, and then it’s all wasted.”
“She’s not,” I heard myself say. At their stunned silence, I wanted to yank the words back in.
“A bitch monster?” Eloise asked.
“No. I mean, she’s not that either.” I kept my gaze down at the counter because, at the age of thirty-five, I’d never had a conversation with my mom and my baby sister about women. “Pretty. Or … it’s not the right word, at least.”
For some reason, the path of my brain caused a tremor of panic down my spine. Trying to define what Isabel was or wasn’t, in this context, made my chest feel heavy and tight, and my hands held a slight tingle.
No, Isabel was not someone that I’d ever describe as pretty. It was such a weak word.
Even beautiful felt wrong.
I remember taking Anya to the zoo, maybe a year earlier, and we watched the panther exhibit for a solid hour. Something about that animal—sleek and powerful, as it paced and prowled—mesmerized both of us as we sat on a hard wooden bench. Sometimes it would disappear behind some lush greenery, but when it came back out, a flick of its tail or a stretch of its sleek, extraordinary body, and my breath would catch in my lungs.
That was the closest I could come to what Isabel looked like.
Yes, she was fierce and strong, but she wasn’t only those things either. As my heart hammered, I remembered the curve of her lips when she stared up at me. They were full. Perfectly formed. The softest looking thing about her when I tried to separate Isabel into individual attributes.
“What is the right word?” my mom asked gently.
“Just say the first thing that comes to your head,” Eloise nudged.
My voice came out as a hushed whisper. “I can’t.”
No one said anything. Neither of them moved. I wasn’t even sure they were breathing. When I lifted my head, they were both gaping at me. The admission still hung there, and I couldn’t take it back. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to. More than anything I could’ve admitted to them, it was the most telling.
I’d lost the woman I loved and I still couldn’t think about her without feeling that bruise, and I didn’t know how to wrap my mind around the idea that anyone else could step into her place already.
“Oh, Aiden,” my mom said, her eyes going all watery.
Her reaction set off a small flare of panic, rocking the foundation of this carefully cultivated plan in my head. “All I want is something peaceful, Mom. I came here to make a home for me and Anya, something good and solid that we can settle into. I didn’t uproot our life for anything like this. I’m her boss.”
Eloise nodded, eyes wide. “Abuse of power is no joke. You gotta know she wants it.”
“Eloise,” my mom chided.
“What? I don’t want my brother to be one of those douches who thinks because he looks like he looks he can get away with whatever he wants.” She pointed her finger at me. “You can’t. Be respectful.”
I gave her a look.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m done now.”
“This is why I don’t particularly feel like talking about it.” I stood with a sigh. “Nothing happened. Whatever I might have thought or imagined or whatever doesn’t matter because nothing happened and nothing will. Moving here was about doing what was best for Anya, not so I can start something with my manager who’s a decade younger than me.”
“Oooh,” Eloise breathed, “Age gap. There are so many layers to this.”
“Can you muzzle her?” I asked Mom.
She laughed. “I have twenty-one years of unsuccessful attempts that would say no.”
Eloise ignored us, sighing happily. “I can’t even handle how great of a setup this is. It’s like forbidden looks and accidental touches at work, and you’re looking for a second chance at love even though you’re way too old for her, so she’s all young and hot—” My mom slapped a hand over Eloise’s mouth.
Which I appreciated because my brain went somewhere it hadn’t before.
Beth’s tired voice teasing me that she’d haunt me if I fell for the first hot, tight body I met.
My gut churned uncomfortably at the realization.
“Thank you,” I told my mom. “I’m going to pick up Anya. Can you bring her backpack out to my truck for me?”
Mom nodded. “Yes.”
When she went to grab the backpack, Eloise gave me an embarrassed grin. “Sorry, I’m reading some books right now, and I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”
“Might’ve?”
She sighed dejectedly. My little sister was my opposite in just about every way. She spoke without thinking and felt everything so big and loud, and in moments like this, it was hard to extend grace when the last thing I needed was her talking about abuse of power, and Isabel’s young, hot body, and how I was way too old for her.
“It’s fine, El.” I hooked my arm around her shoulder for a hug, dropping a kiss on the top of her head when she gave me a squeeze. “But trust me, I don’t need anyone reminding me of all the reasons nothing can happen between Isabel and me.”
“Nothing?”
I gave her a gentle nudge. “Nothing. I’ll go back to work with my head on straight because that’s the best for everyone.”
“So boring,” she whispered.
I didn’t respond, but it did make me smile. It wasn’t until I was walking out of the kitchen that she stopped me in my tracks.
“Beth would want you to be happy, you know.”
Slowly, I turned. “I am happy.”
She shook her head. “You’re settled. There’s a difference, big brother. And I hope you don’t ignore the possibility for one because you’re so fixed on the other.”