Page 56

EMORY

T he next night, the girls are in high spirits after their victory over Stonington, and I keep practice short. So when I turn the corner from the garden to Aiden’s front door, the lights are just starting to flicker on around the property, and I’m greeted by a sight I never thought I’d see.

Aiden, on his patio, a sea shanty blaring, dancing with Dusty, whose paws are on his shoulders. Dusty is loving it, based on his happy bark.

Aiden tips his head back and sings along. Pretty well, too. I lean against the low stone wall that surrounds the garden, a smile curling my lips.

“Not like that,” Aiden says, taking a step back. Dusty goes to lick his face, and Aiden turns his head. “Very forward of you,” he teases before he lets Dusty down, then crouches to scratch his head.

“You’re a good boy, you know that?” He pulls Dusty’s hair back so he can look in his eyes, like I always do. “You can come visit when this is over, I promise.”

There’s a pinch in my chest at his words. When this is over.

I clear my throat. “Can I cut in?”

Aiden turns, then unfolds himself. Dusty, the little traitor, gives me a mere tail wag instead of a full-blown greeting.

“I see where his loyalties lie,” I say, tipping my head at my dog.

Aiden grins. “I think we’re going to need a shared custody agreement.”

I nod, not wanting to think about the end. We still have months. And then what? We don’t talk about it, but I assume we’ll go back to being strangers. Cordial strangers, at least. He’ll go to his restaurants and stores and I’ll go to mine, and our paths will never cross.

It feels like something is sitting on my chest as I look at him. He’s so handsome in the fading light of day, shirt rumpled from his day fixing up the property, hair ruffled, hazel eyes glinting.

“A dance?” He holds out his hand.

“Sure.” My stomach does a little leap as I step forward and take his palm. The music switches to something crooning and low. “More sad boy music?”

He laughs, and I feel it in my whole body. “Is that what you call it?”

I nod. “You’re always brooding about. Do you have a fainting couch somewhere? I picture you draped over it, arm over your eyes.”

Another low laugh. “It keeps my brain quiet.” He twirls me and pulls me back in. “Don’t tease me, woman.”

“Never.” The breath leaves my chest as he hauls me against him.

The singer croons, and Dusty presses against my legs while Aiden’s heart beats steady against me. For once in my life, it feels like everything is handled. All I have to do is be right here, my cheek to Aiden’s chest, my hand in his.

Tomorrow, Aiden will have tea waiting when I get downstairs, and I’ll get to spar with Sienna and Katie. Maybe I’ll visit the polo ponies after work, or walk in the garden, then swim in the shallow part of the bay where Dusty likes to paddle.

At night, Aiden will have a fire going if the rain we’ve been having keeps up, and I’ll curl up on one of his couches with a book.

“Aiden—”

“Em—”

We speak at the same time.

“You first,” he says.

“I like it here,” I say. I press my face to his chest, not wanting him to see me right now. “I think this is the most magical place I’ve ever been.”

I think I could be happy here.

I swat at the rogue thought before it can grow roots.

He pauses, then leans back so he can look at my face. “Are you quite well?”

I push at his chest as a laugh rumbles out of him. “I’m being nice.”

“Ah. That’s what it was. No wonder I was confused.” He chuckles again, warm and velvety in the lamp-lit dark. “But yeah. I agree. Crownhaven is the best place on earth. Better with you here, though.” The last words are murmured against my temple.

My heart clenches. I chance a look up at him. His eyes are dark and sad.

“What were you going to say?” I ask.

He rests his cheek on my head and swallows, and I feel it in my body. “We got the property transfer today.”

I nearly jerk out of his grip, but he holds me fast. “Oh.”

“Look at me, Em.”

I look.

He cups my jaw. “That was fast,” he says. His thumb moves over my skin. “Faster than I wanted.” His voice is low.

“That’s good, right?” I keep my voice steady. Why does it feel like this is terrible? This is what we wanted. This was the whole point.

“You tell me.” His eyes are searching mine and he’s merely swaying now.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. My heart beats heavy in my chest.

“My siblings are inside,” he says. “Whit is here. You don’t have to answer this question if you don’t want to.

I won’t pressure you.” He pulls me closer, his hand spanning my low back.

“But if you feel at all like I do, then no, this isn’t a good thing.

” He shuts his eyes briefly, and when he opens them, they’re blazing with heat.

My heart presses against the wall of my chest.

“I like you,” he whispers. His thumb does another slow sweep over my jaw. “I like you so fucking much. I never thought I’d like you like this.”

My eyes heat. I like him too. I like him more than I ever thought I could.

More than I’ve ever liked someone else. But I can’t say that.

I don’t want to make this harder than it already is.

“Aiden, this is ending. My dad knows it’s fake.

I think he’s going to approve the plans.

He demanded that we divorce in order to start building. ”

His smile is crooked and his eyes are sad. “That’s good, Em. That’s really good. I’m happy for you.”

“I’m happy too,” I say, but it feels like a lie.

He shuts his eyes, his face twisting. When he looks back down at me, I see determination there. Determination and heat. For a second I think he’s going to argue with me, then he blinks and looks over my head, his face calculating.

“We have three weeks,” he says roughly. “Three weeks until my birthday.” His gaze drops back to mine. “Want to make the most of it?”

“What does that mean?”

He twirls me. “You promised to help me spark, evil queen. I’m in need of your services.” The spin lands with me off balance, my hands on his chest.

“My services?” I laugh.

He nips at my neck. “All the time,” he murmurs.

I feel drunk on him. “Okay. But we have to make a deal.” I look up at him. “No sad shit.”

“Is that a comment about my music?” His eyes narrow on me.

“No.” Giggling, I push at his chest. “I mean, no moping about this ending. If we’re going to go out, we do it with a bang, okay?”

His eyes light. “Yeah?” A slow smile spreads across his face. “I like that.” His tongue swipes over his lower lip. “Dinner’s not for thirty minutes. You want to start with a bang too?”

The music switches to something slower and sexier, and I laugh into my palms.

“Wasn’t me.” He grins and holds up his hands. “The house thinks you should bang your husband as much as possible until we divorce.”

“Please stop saying the word bang .”

He rubs at his jaw. “Not doing it for you? Here, let me make things easier.” He slowly rolls the sleeves of his shirt up, exposing those delicious forearms. “Read about this in a book,” he says. “Apparently the speed at which I roll them is very important.”

“I regret marrying you.”

His eyes gleam at my teasing, and something light and fizzy spreads through my veins.

He presses me against the wall of the house, slides my underwear to the side, and pushes inside while he watches my face.

“Do you regret it now?” he growls.

“Very much yes,” I pant. “Give me a few more inches and maybe I’ll change my mind.”

He chokes a laugh and slides home.

I grin against his neck. “Not bad, golden boy.”

He thrusts up into me, and I moan.

“I’ve never laughed this much while having sex,” he says against my ear.

Warmth blooms in my chest, an ache behind my ribs. “Me neither,” I whisper.

Me neither.