My hand froze midair. “What?”
“Take a deep breath.” I did as he asked. “If you’re nervous to do this, I can take over.”
Take over.
I wanted him to take over.
Why was this happening to me? And with this man? I was always the strong one. The together one. The take-charge one.
And in that tiny, dark closet, I wanted him to absolutely dominate me.
Aiden and I were talking about two entirely different things, of that I was certain.
But still, I slid to the side so that my back was to his chest, and when he inhaled, a sharp quick pull of breath, I felt something powerful course under my skin.
“Please,” I whispered. I wanted to turn around and face him, whirl in his arms and press myself against his body. “Please take over,” I begged quietly.
For a beat, the air between us was so thick I couldn’t breathe.
If this was all in my head, I could hardly imagine facing him again.
“Shit,” he grumbled, a delicious vibration of sound at my back. I felt his nose next to my hair, and he inhaled. His chest brushed my back, not accidentally, and not quickly.
The hand holding the screwdriver planted against the wall next to the fuse box, and I arched my neck. His breath hit hot against the skin of my neck. And then, oh, and then, his lips coasted against the shell of my ear. I shivered, and against my ass, he pushed closer.
Not in my head.
Not alone in this.
Because I felt him.
“Is—” Whatever he was going to say next didn’t matter.
“Isabel?” Emmett yelled. “I can’t turn any of the lights on!”
Aiden backed up. The screwdriver fell out of my hand with a noisy clatter, and I moved away from him. I couldn’t even make eye contact as I frantically picked up the screwdriver and held it out to him. He took it.
I called out to Emmett, “Hang on, bud. We’re working on it.”
“I’ll finish up,” Aiden said, his voice rough.
I nodded, escaping into the safety of the hallway. I’d just lifted my eyes to look at him when Emmet slid around the corner with Anya right behind him.
“Iz? Can Anya stay and play when he’s done?”
I could hardly even focus on what he said, but I saw Aiden blink rapidly. He might have had shaking hands as he unscrewed the circuit and yanked out the attached wire, but his jaw was tight, his entire frame looked like a string about to break. He was just as rattled as I was.
“Please, Daddy,” she begged. “I don’t want to hang out at the gym again.”
Aiden’s eyes briefly flicked to mine, then moved to his daughter. “They might have plans, gingersnap.”
“We don’t,” Emmett said. “We were just going to hang out here all day.”
The kids turned their pleading gazes to me, and I tried to force a smile. “It’s fine with me, but I’m leaving the decision up to your daddy, Anya.”
Aiden fitted the new circuit into the slot, attached the wire, and quickly tightened the screw. When he flipped the main breaker into the on position, the hallway flooded with light. Along with it, some of my tension seemed to ebb naturally. If I hadn’t felt the way he wanted me, I’d have thought I imagined the whole thing. Because when Aiden tossed the tools back into the bag and turned to us, he looked perfectly normal again.
“You sure she wouldn’t be an imposition?” he asked.
I shook my head. “If she doesn’t mind frozen pizza for lunch, she’s more than welcome.”
He ruffled his daughter’s hair. “You win, kiddo.” The kids whooped loudly as Aiden returned his attention to me. “Thank you. I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours.”
“She’s doing me a favor,” I told him. “Now I don’t have to entertain Emmett.”
Emmett rolled his eyes. “Come on, Anya. Lemme show you the trampoline we have in the gym room.”
They darted into the room to my left, and Aiden watched with a slight smile on his face.
“You’re sure?” he asked now that they were out of earshot, though his gaze stayed firmly on the kids.
For that, I was thankful.
I kept my tone light and even. “Now I don’t owe you for the circuit breaker.”
His eyes found mine.
“Thank you,” I told him.
Aiden didn’t answer. But he must have clenched his teeth because that muscle popped again. As I walked him out, neither of us speaking, I knew that I had to pull my shit together. Because the more this happened, the wilder I felt anytime I was around him.
At the front door, he paused. “I’ll be here no later than one,” he promised.
I nodded.
With the door firmly closed behind him, I sank against the wall and let out a deep breath.
Chapter Seventeen
Isabel
Apparently, if I’d ever wanted to delve into the Hennessy family history, all I needed to do was hang out with Anya for a few hours.
Over frozen pizza hot from a working oven, she told me all about her uncles (Beckham, Clark, and Deacon) and her aunt (Eloise). She told me about her grandparents and their favorite foods and how Eloise bought her pretty princess things.
She was a sweet girl and shared information in the way that only a girl well and truly loved could. There was no moment of pause as she talked about how she wished she had cousins, and how she slept with a picture of her mommy by her bed.
“What happened to your mom?” Emmett asked.
I watched them carefully but didn’t chastise Emmett for asking. I’d learned, from my own experience, that it was something worse when people avoided the reality you’d grown up in.
Anya finished chewing her pizza. “She’s in heaven. She got cancer.”
Emmett glanced at me, wide-eyed, and I nodded in encouragement.
“I’m sorry she died,” he told her.
“Me too. I only kinda remember her, though.” She shrugged. “My daddy tells me stories about her a lot. So I don’t forget.”
“That’s a good thing for a dad to do,” I told her. I picked at the piece of crust on my plate. Anya and I shared many commonalities, but the way they played out was very different. Brooke never really talked to us about our dad after he died. Only that his absence left her alone and short of funds. My own memories of him were spotty and certainly nothing that would be told as a bedtime story.
“He’s the best dad,” she asserted. “He tries to bake her cookies for me even though he can’t get them right.”
I smiled. “She made good cookies?”
Anya nodded, then studied my face carefully. “Do you bake?”
Emmett laughed. “No way, Isabel is the worst baker in the world.”
“Hey,” I argued.
Anya’s face scrunched in thought. “I don’t really remember her baking. My grandma told me my mom was sweet as sugar and twice as nice. And everyone loved her because she was nice to every person she met.”
Her words were so innocent, and no matter how much I was feeling for her dad, I felt the pang of what they’d lost. The absence of Aiden’s wife left a ragged hole he was trying to fill by moving here.
Who was I to think that I could ever attempt to fill it? He’d married this person. Had a child with her. Quit his career at the very peak in order to care for them both, and from what I knew, didn’t hold an ounce of regret in leaving all of it behind.