I wasn’t expecting you so early.”
“No problem.”
I liked the idea of him being there. The house felt too big allowing loneliness to take hold. As we walked in, I asked, “Sheriff doesn’t mind you being late?”
“I guess I’ll find out. I let Bess know, but the sheriff wasn’t in. Wyatt said he’d switch shifts with me. It will be fine.”
“I don’t want to get you into any trouble on your first day.”
He tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “No trouble.”
His touch shouldn’t have sent butterflies into flight in my stomach, but it did. “I’ll be a few minutes,” I said and scrambled up the stairs, hoping he didn’t see my reaction to him.
I showered in record time and spent a couple of minutes debating whether or not to bother with lipstick. In the end, I went without it. He’d seen me at my worst already. It would be too obvious to put it on now.
“I’m ready,” I said when I was going down the stairs. He was staring at pictures on the wall and turned to face me. I grabbed the bags of food, but he took them from my hand.
“Let’s go.”
After we got into the car and secured our seatbelts, he added, “Apparently, children’s homes have a lot of regulations, but some of the adult ones don’t. I found one that will take the food.”
“Sounds good.”
Aiden turned on the radio and music played softly in the background as we drove out of town through the covered bridge. So many thoughts swirled in my head. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” he said.
I needed a man’s opinion. “If you were my fiancé, how would you handle the death of my father?”
He didn’t look at me and kept his eyes on the road. “I would give you whatever you needed,” he said.
“Like what?”
He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. I wasn’t even sure he knew he was doing it. “I’d hold you, dry your tears, and wish like hell I could take the pain away.”
“That,” I said, fighting the burn in the back of my eyes. I wouldn’t cry.
“Why? Is Evan not there for you?”
“Oh, he wants to be there for me if it includes us being naked,” I said, swallowing the bitter taste on my tongue.
“Everyone handles grief differently. Just tell him what you need.”
“You’re probably right, but shouldn’t he just know?”
He glanced at me for a second and I was reminded how many times as a teenager I dreamed of Aiden driving me home from school.
“As much as I hate to say this, he’s not from around here. He doesn’t know you or your dad like I do. His empathy for what’s happened only comes from wanting you to be happy. And who knows if he’s ever had tragedy in his life. He might have thought that was the best way to get close to you.”
I stared out my window. “Maybe.”
Then Aiden took my left hand and threaded his fingers through mine. He said nothing even when I looked up from where we were joined and caught him glancing my way. I scooted across the bench seat stretching my seatbelt, never letting go and rested my head on his shoulder. He let go of my hand and wrapped his right arm around me, driving with his left.
Being in his arms felt like a little slice of heaven in the hell I was living. It was the peace I needed, and I just allowed myself to enjoy the feeling.
When we arrived, Aiden said, “I can take it in.”
I shook my head. “I need to see it through.”
He didn’t argue with me on the merits, only nodded. The contrast between him and Evan was stark.
As I walked in, I got an up-close view of how lucky I had it in Mason Creek. Tables much like the ones in the school’s cafeteria were filled with people who wore an expression of defeat. How could I possibly feel like my world had ended when there was suffering like this so close to home.
Aiden talked to a woman as I tried not to stare at anyone but still see.
“Thanks for this,” the woman said.
“I feel like I should do more,” I admitted.
“We can put you to work,” she said.
I met Aiden’s eyes and he nodded. For the next hour, we worked the line, serving food to those less fortunate. Though I’d been given instruction as to portion size, I found myself being a little more generous with the offerings I’d brought. The