He sighed and nodded, walking toward her.
Slate’s eyes were glued to the other man, and when Aiden glanced his way as he walked by the couch, Ashlyn saw him take a step to the side…as if to get farther away.
If he was a little leery of Slate, Ashlyn wasn’t going to complain.
When they were in the kitchen, out of earshot of James, Ashlyn didn’t hesitate to get right to it. “This place was kind of a wreck when I got here. The bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom were a mess. You’re paid to help clean for him, right?”
“You don’t get to tell me how to do my job,” Aiden retorted nastily.
Ashlyn was a little surprised at the venom in his tone. She probably could’ve been a bit more diplomatic in her criticism of the state of the house, but still.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” she said immediately.
It was the right thing to say. Aiden’s shoulders slumped and he ran a hand through his longish blond hair. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a dick. James didn’t have a good day yesterday, and he wasn’t himself last weekend either. I spent all my time just talking with him, trying to snap him out of the depression he seems to have fallen into.”
Ashlyn frowned. “Depression?”
“Yeah. He was still in bed when I got here on Sunday, and he told me he didn’t want to get up when I tried to encourage him to do just that,” Aiden said.
Ashlyn wasn’t happy about what she was hearing. She was also surprised. “He seems to be okay today.”
“Yeah, he does, which is a relief,” Aiden agreed. “I didn’t have time to clean like I usually do, so that’s why it’s messier than usual. I’ll make sure I get to anything you didn’t on Thursday. Thanks for doing the dishes and stuff.”
“You’re welcome. I’m thinking we need to say something to his doctor about his legs and his depression.”
“He’s embarrassed about it. Says he should be able to keep himself together better,” Aiden told her. “He’s been talking a lot about his wife and how much he misses her. I think he’ll snap out of it, and I’m not sure it’s a good thing to get a doctor involved without his permission. Even if we do, you and I both know they’ll just prescribe some pills that’ll knock him out or something. It’s why I stopped by today even though I’m not scheduled. I wanted to check on him. Make sure he’d gotten out of bed and was okay.”
Ashlyn nodded. “I appreciate it. He’s like my own grandfather at this point. I wish he didn’t live alone, but I guess there’s nothing we can do about that.”
“Nope. Anyway, thanks again for picking up in here. As I said, I’ll be sure to get to the rest of the house tomorrow,” Aiden said.
Reassured, Ashlyn smiled at him. “Sounds good.”
“Great.” He smiled back before adding, “So…how serious are you with that guy out there?”
Ashlyn was surprised by the question. “Um…pretty serious.” Not quite, but she wasn’t about to explain her and Slate’s relationship to Aiden. Not when she didn’t know him at all.
“Too bad. You’re pretty hot. If you ever want to go out sometime, just leave your phone number on the counter after a delivery. We can hook up.”
“Uh…okay.”
“Okay,” he echoed, then knocked twice on the counter and headed back into the other room.
Ashlyn trailed behind him, making sure to keep her distance. She didn’t want to lead Aiden on in any way. He had to be a decent guy, since he made a living being an aide to older people like James. The first and only time she’d met him, he’d talked about the three other elderly people he cared for. But she wasn’t attracted to him…and there was still that gut feeling she’d had on their first encounter. She didn’t want to go out with the guy.
Aiden nodded at James and Slate, then headed for the door. “See you tomorrow, old man,” he said off-handedly as he left. He didn’t even give James time to say anything before he was out the door and headed for a beat-up old Chevy Chevette parked behind Ashlyn’s RAV4.
“Come sit, babe,” Slate said, patting the cushion next to him.
Unable to interpret the look in his eyes, she did as he asked. She was tired from the day, and from cleaning the kitchen and bathroom, and wouldn’t mind a short break.
The second she sat, Slate’s hand landed on her leg. His fingers rested against her inner thigh…a very possessive touch. She didn’t say anything, though she saw James watching them carefully with a small smile on his face.
“So…you gonna take care of Ashlyn?” James asked.
“Yes,” Slate said without missing a beat.
“I heard a saying once, and it stuck with me. A man doesn’t protect his woman because she’s weak, he protects her because she’s important,” James said.
Ashlyn nearly melted in her seat. She liked that. A lot. She thought about Elodie, and Lexie, and Carly, Monica, and Kenna. Her friends were strong and independent, but they’d all been in situations where they’d needed protecting from the evil in this world. And their men, Slate’s teammates, had not only stepped up to the plate, they’d made sure her friends never felt as if they weren’t capable or strong in their own right.
“Very true,” Slate said, turning to meet Ashlyn’s gaze. “One thing I’ve learned over the years is that many times the strongest person is the one who needs someone at their back the most.”
“I like him,” James told Ashlyn. “You need to keep him.”
Ashlyn smiled at the older man. “I like him too.” She wasn’t touching the “keep him” comment with a ten-foot pole. She had the sudden thought that when she and Slate finally broke up, it might just hurt her friends, including James, even more than it hurt her.
“How was it?” she asked, nodding at the empty plate in front of James.
“Good, as usual. Your friend sure knows how to cook,” he said.
“That she does,” Ashlyn agreed. “I’ll take your plate into the kitchen before we get going.” As much as she wanted to stay longer, it was getting late, and Slate had been tired before they’d set out on her rounds. He had to be even more exhausted now.
“Is there anything we can do for you before we go?” Slate asked, after Ashlyn stood. She felt his fingers trail along the small of her back before she headed over to where James was sitting to grab his plate.
“I’m good.”
“You sure? Your legs aren’t hurting you today?”
Ashlyn paused long enough to hear James’s answer.
“No. Aiden’s a worrywart. I’m fine.”
Satisfied with the insistence in her friend’s voice, Ashlyn entered the kitchen.
She washed the plate and fork by hand and put them away before going back into the living room. James was standing with Slate’s hand on his elbow once more. When they saw her, they moved toward the front door.
Ashlyn hugged James, feeling Slate’s hand move to her back again as she did so. She pulled back a bit and hardened her voice. “You have my phone number, I expect you to use it if you’re not feeling good. Even if you just want to talk, I’ll listen, okay?”