The Wall of Winnipeg and Me - Mariana Zapata Page 0,96

possible.

“Vanessa?”

I was halfway up the stairs with my suitcase gripped in hand when Aiden’s voice reached me from the foot of them. Slowly lowering my bag to the step I was on, I ground down on my molars and glanced over my shoulder at the man who had stood me up, standing there in between the living room and the foyer in his sweat pants and a tank so loose I could see the ripped sides of some of the sexiest muscles in the universe.

Did I love sexy lateral muscles? Of course. I had ovaries.

But I also had a brain, a heart, and some pride, and huge, brawny arms on someone who left me hanging weren’t going to make me forget a single thing.

Things might have gone worse if he’d been there, I tried to remind myself as I tugged at the sleeve of the hoodie I’d put on before leaving Diana’s, drawing it further down my arm. But the other half of my brain wanted to believe that maybe the weekend would have gone differently if Aiden had been there.

Then again, maybe I just wanted to blame someone other than myself for not listening to my instincts when they told me to do something, and then I did otherwise.

“Yes?” I asked, sensing my cheeks go tight.

The big guy was examining me, something about the way he was pursing his lips said he was hesitating. “Leslie’s here.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when a white head of hair peeked out from the living room. Nearly as tall as Aiden and way more fit than any man who should have been considered elderly could be, Leslie Prescott flashed those perfect white veneers at me. “Hello, Vanessa.”

A sharp pain thudded right between my eyebrows unexpectedly. I set my suitcase down in place and smiled at the man I’d met in the past. We’d spent months together in Colorado on two separate occasions, and he’d visited Aiden the rest of the times. I liked him; I really did like him, but I was in a shitty mood, and it wasn’t fair to take it out on him.

“Hi, Leslie,” I pretty much muttered as I jogged down the steps and held out my hand.

He shook it, flashing me an open, easy smile. “Congratulations,” he said, shaking my hand. “I heard the big news.” Leslie’s other hand came forth to clasp mine between both of his, his smile growing bigger by the second. If he thought it was strange that I didn’t give Aiden a hug or a kiss when I got home, it wasn’t evident on his features. “I’m a bit hurt I wasn’t invited, but I understand.”

“Oh, thanks.” I gave him a tired smile, pointedly ignoring the big body standing in my peripheral vision, watching on.

“I couldn’t be happier for you two. I was disappointed you were out of town this weekend, but I’m sure we’ll have more time to see each other in the future. ”

I forced myself to keep my smile on my face. Aiden and I had nearly five years left together, I was positive I’d see Leslie again at some point. “I’m sure we will.”

Leslie beamed. “We finished watching some footage, so I’ll get out of your hair to give you both some alone time tonight, eh?”

The tender, amused look that came over Aiden’s face more than slightly irritated me. “Eh.” Aye.

Then the fact that his Canadian had snuck up on him—when it only came up in the times he was really comfortable—made my little-girl immaturity that much worse.

“I’ll let you two to it. I have some work I need to catch up on.” I focused on Leslie as I talked.

The older man nodded. “Sure, sure. I understand. If you’ll excuse me, I need to make a pit stop before I go.” He smiled again, easing the tension in me just slightly.

He hadn’t done anything wrong, and I was being an asshole. “You’ll be by tomorrow?”

“Eh. My flight leaves the day after. I have to get back home.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then. Drive safe.”

Leslie agreed and then made his way toward the half bath around the corner. That was my cue to get the heck out of there. Grabbing my bag with my good hand, I managed to make it halfway up the staircase before I heard, “You all right?”

I didn’t bother stopping. I kept going up. “I’m fine.”

“Vanessa.” His voice was low, careful. “Look at me.”

One hundred and eighty percent ready to be in my room,