The Wall of Winnipeg and Me - Mariana Zapata Page 0,81
going on. Sure enough, he was in the driver’s seat of his Range Rover with his head in one of his large hands, looking down. I walked over and knocked on the window. His head lifting, he frowned before rolling it down.
“Do you want me to drive you?” I offered, thinking about the project I’d wanted to finish working on that morning and shoving it to the back of my head.
Aiden’s nostrils flared, but he nodded. To give him credit, he only slightly limped around the car, but it was more than enough to worry me. I’d been thinking about him since the night before when I’d found him on the couch, but I knew better than to baby him. Instead, I ran back in the house, grabbed my purse and set the alarm before going back to the garage and getting behind the wheel.
It wasn’t the first time I’d driven his car, except the last time I’d been behind the wheel it was to take it to get an oil change and a wash. “Where are we going?”
“To the acupuncturist.”
“Did you put the address into the navigation?” I asked as I backed out of the garage, extra careful, incredibly self-conscious about my driving skills.
“Yes.”
I nodded and followed the gentle female voice all the way to the acupuncturist’s office, though after a while of driving, I remembered exactly where we were going. Just like every other time I’d ever taken Aiden, what seemed like all of the female employees at the homeopathic clinic seemed to find their way to the front desk while he was signing in. I took a seat and, with a smirk on my face, watched as one woman after another approached the counter, asking the big guy for an autograph or a picture. Aiden spoke with a low, calm voice, his movements measured, and his entire body tense the way it always was around people he didn’t know.
He didn’t even get a chance to sit down before the door leading to the main part of the clinic opened and another employee called his name. Aiden glanced back at me and tipped his head toward the door before disappearing. The crowd of women disbanded too. I hadn’t really been thinking straight before we rushed to leave, so I’d forgotten to bring something along to keep me entertained. I grabbed one of the magazines on the table and started flipping through it, trying to tell myself that Aiden was fine.
An hour later, the door Aiden had gone through opened again and his bulky frame slowly crept out, one obviously pained step at a time. A man in a short white coat behind him at the doorway shook his head. “Get crutches or a cane.”
Aiden simply lifted a hand before approaching the window where only two employees were waiting at that point. I dropped the magazine on the table and got up. The Wall of Winnipeg hunched over the counter, signing something.
“It’s such a pleasure to see you again,” the receptionist crooned just as I stopped right behind Aiden. Was she batting her eyelashes?
If she was, he didn’t notice. His attention was on what looked like the invoice in front of him.
“I’m such a huge fan of yours,” she added.
A fan of that ass, more than likely, I figured.
She kept going. “We all hope you get better soon.”
Yeah, she was definitely batting her eyelashes. Huh.
That had Aiden responding with one of those indecipherable noises of his as he straightened and slid the paperwork over to her.
“Mr. Graves, I can settle your visit with your assistant if you’d like to take a seat,” the receptionist said in a sugary sweet voice, her green eyes flicking to my direction briefly.
Aiden settled for shrugging a shoulder as he turned his body to face me. Nothing about his expression or body language gave me a warning. “She’s my wife.”
Time stopped.
What the hell did he just say?
“Handle it for me, would you, Muffin?” Aiden asked casually, digging into his back pocket and handing over his wallet like he hadn’t just said the freaking ‘W’ word in front of strangers.
And wait a second, did he just call me Muffin? Muffin?
My mouth went dry and my face went hot, but somehow I managed to smile when the woman’s curious and slightly shocked attention slid over to me, more than extremely aware of the weight of Aiden’s gaze on me.
His wife.
I was his freaking wife and he’d just said so aloud.