Sinful Ever After - Vivian Wood Page 0,68

file boxes I’ve accumulated into one of the spare bedrooms.”

Carter looks impressed. His mother just looks vaguely suspicious.

One of the nieces leans forward. “How much longer do you think the entire process will take?”

I go red. Her tone says that she is ready to get rid of me, like I might be taking advantage of the family or something. Carter comes to my rescue again, though.

“She’s been hired to work this whole summer, Aunt Emily.” He levels a smile at me. “They really are pleasant to be around when you only know them socially, I swear.”

Margaret starts awake, startling everyone. She opens her eyes. “Oh.” She blinks, focusing on the people in the room for a moment. “Oh Olivia, there you are.”

“Here I am,” I say, smiling a little.

“Did they tell you what we have planned?” she asks, stifling a yawn.

“Err.” I glance at Carter, who rolls his eyes. “No.”

“You’ll like this.” She shifts, grimacing for a moment. “Aiden has done the bulk of the repairs needing immediate attention. We’re celebrating by throwing a lavish costume ball, just like we used to do in the days before the decline of the estate.”

My eyebrows go up. That sounds like a ton of work, and not just for me.

“Yes. My original location for the charity ball fell through at the last minute,” Sandra cuts in. “So I thought why not have it here instead of canceling? Those poor children—”

“It’s to benefit the Humane Society,” Emily interrupts. Sandra shoots her a sour look.

“Yes, well. We can’t be expected to remember every single creature that we help, can we?”

God, she’s stuck up. And that’s only what I can observe from spending five minutes with her. It’s no wonder that Carter turned out to be a little snooty. Actually, with a mother like that, it’s a small mercy that he didn’t turn into a complete monster.

I glance at Carter. “Have you told Aiden yet?”

He smiles wryly. “No. I imagine that there isn’t much he’ll be able to say, though.”

If it weren’t for everyone else in the room, I would actually chuckle right in his face. Aiden is upset easily, to say the least. I keep it to myself for the time being though, considering the company.

I clear my throat, turning back to Margaret. “I’m sure it will be wonderful, Margaret. If you all will excuse me, I have a lot of file boxes to transfer.”

“You should ask Aiden for help with that,” Carter says. “Seriously, he’s supposed to be doing the bulk of the actual lifting and stuff for you.”

I don't want his help. Seriously, I never want his help with anything, ever again. Carter doesn’t know that, so I just smile. “Okay. That sounds great.”

His eyes narrow a little on my face. I guess I didn’t convince him. But in the next moment, I’m out the door anyway. Faced with a choice between going back upstairs or going out the front door, I choose the latter.

I like Carter and Margaret well enough, but their family just puts a bad taste in my mouth. The Morgans I’ve met so far have really been a mixed bag, that’s for sure.

Well… except Aiden.

With a pang, I realize that he is the Morgan that I’m the closest with. I mean, I assume he is.

Sighing, I head back toward the staff apartments. When I get there though, Aiden is nowhere to be found. Frowning, I take off back into the woods, following the narrow trail. I hear footsteps a second before I see Aiden, shirtless and soaked, his dark swimming trunks the only clothes he’s wearing.

I see him a second before he sees me. My gaze is drawn down to a few stray droplets of water that run down his washboard abs, trickling toward where his low slung trunks meet his stomach. The hard vee of muscle at his hips is completely visible, making me swallow uncomfortably.

He is ridiculously hot. It’s not fair to the rest of us mere mortals every single time he decides to take his shirt off.

I glance up, meeting his gaze. His eyes seem to see right through me as he approaches. I lift my head as he comes near.

“Hey,” I say. It comes out flat, not cool and casual as I intended for it to sound.

A ghost of a smile traces over his lips. “Hey.”

“I just saw Margaret,” I say, pointing toward the main house.

He stops walking. “Yeah? She’s doing okay?”

“Yes. Well enough to throw a big costume ball here, I guess. Or to