Her words echoed in my head as I moved a drowsy Anya into the truck and drove us home. I got her into her bed and then sank onto the family room couch with a sigh. The words continued to ring, over and over, like a bell I couldn’t shut off.
Even if she was right, it didn’t matter.
Whether I imagined kissing Isabel or not, whether my hands itched to slip over her skin, or how at that moment, my mouth watered at the thought of burying myself to the hilt until we both lost our minds, it wasn’t the point.
No matter what my sister said, this phase of my life was about finding an even, steady foundation. It wasn’t about heat and hormones, about attraction that hid behind the guise of interest.
I’d already married the woman I loved.
Already buried her.
Nothing short of a miracle would make me want to do that again.
Chapter Thirteen
Isabel
Aiden: Anya is sick, so I’ll be home today, possibly tomorrow. Could you shoot me the numbers of the two clients I had on my schedule today? Thanks, Ward.
The sigh that escaped my mouth as I read his text came without permission. So much for turning a new leave and extending a long-overdue olive branch. The large black coffee sat on the edge of the front desk, his name scrawled on the side. I took a sip of my own and stared at the cup. The order was a guess because I’d never actually seen him drink coffee.
Before I responded to his text, I picked up the cup, walked over to the drinking fountain, and slowly poured it out. The dark liquid swirling around the drain had me smiling a little at the irony that I now found myself dumping coffee that I’d meant for him.
I tossed the empty cup into the small trash can against the wall and went back to the front desk. I picked up my phone and tapped out the phone numbers for his clients because even though I could call them and offer to cover, I’d quickly learned that the people who wanted to train with Aiden only wanted to train with Aiden.
Not that I could blame them.
Me: Here you go. You don’t have anyone on the schedule tomorrow, so take whatever time you need.
* * *
Aiden: I appreciate it. If you don’t mind, there’s a piece of paper on my desk next to the computer. I forgot to add that client onto the calendar for the end of this week.
* * *
Me: No problem.
The three dots on the screen bounced, then disappeared. One day at a time. No matter how impatient I could be, no solid relationship—regardless of the type—was built out of thin air.
Me: We’ll take care of everything here. Tell Anya I hope she feels better.
* * *
Aiden: I will.
* * *
Aiden: Thank you again.
* * *
Me: Just doing my job.
* * *
Aiden: Glad to hear it, Ward. Even if my back still hurts.
I was still smiling when I let myself into his office a couple of hours later. The piece of paper was easy to find, and my eyes widened when I saw the name of his new client. The gym already boasted a number of former athlete clients, simply because of my connection to the Wolves and Amy’s reputation.
Current elite athletes—including the one I’d watched play US Women’s soccer for the past few years—was new.
The connection clearly came from Aiden, and it sent my wheels spinning about what his plans might be for the gym. The day went by in a blink. As did the next.
It wasn’t easier without him there because I felt a strange urgency to see if I could act normal around him now. Or as normal as I was capable of after our sexually charged sparring match.
On day three, I came in to work with another drink holder in my hands. One for me, one for Emily, and another black coffee for Aiden.
When his typical arrival time came and went without a sign of him, I set the coffee on the corner of my desk as I got to work. Emily popped her head through the door.
“Call for you,” she said. “And the delivery guy is here with a huge delivery. Where should they go?”
“How many boxes?”
“Probably twelve or so.”
I glanced at my office. “Stick them right outside my door. I don’t want to crowd the front. I’ll see what they are.”
She left with a nod, and I tapped the button on my desk phone to pick up the call.
“This is Isabel.”
“Ward.”
My eyes closed briefly at the sound of his voice. So maybe I wasn’t doing so hot keeping that reaction in check. “Hey, boss. How’s Anya?”
He sighed. “A bit better, still not back to normal. though. Her fever’s gone but …”
Leaning back in my chair, I tucked the phone between my ear and shoulder. “We can hold down the fort here if you’re worried about that.”
“I’m not. I trust you.” He paused. “The new merchandise should arrive today or tomorrow.”
“So that’s what’s getting stacked outside my door right now,” I said.
“It came?”
“Just now.”
“Good.” But he sounded disappointed. I probably would’ve been too, if I’d bought the gym and was putting my name on everything.
“Want me to leave them for you to open?” I asked carefully. “It’s a big deal.”
He was quiet. “Would you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“Thank you, Ward.” Aiden sighed. “I wish I could sneak out and do it today, but I can’t leave.”
My eyebrows lowered. “She’s still that sick?”
He hesitated before answering. “Anya hasn’t really been sick like this since … since Beth. She doesn’t really want anyone but me right now.”
There was a strange fist closing around my heart at how carefully he said it. Like he didn’t want to divulge too much. Like it gave something away.
I licked my lips. “My brother used to buy us these special sticker books when we got sick. He’d put them on a tray with a big glass of 7 Up with a fancy straw and a little bowl of saltine crackers.” My skin felt hot sharing the story, and I rubbed absently at the side of my neck. “I didn’t even like stickers that much, but we never got them because my twin sisters once put hundreds of them all over his bed frame, and he couldn’t get them off.”
Aiden made a sound that could’ve been a laugh, but I wasn’t quite sure. “How old were you?”
“Twelve.” I shook my head. “Maybe it won’t work for Anya. But I know, for us, it was just enough of a distraction.”
“From what?” he asked quietly.
“Everything.”
Aiden was quiet, and in that quiet, I felt naked.
“I’ll see if my mom can find one,” he said after a moment. “Thank you.”
“Do you drink coffee?” I asked suddenly. My eyes pinched shut in mortification.
“I don’t,” he answered, and I heard the confusion clear in his voice.