Looks weren’t everything, she reminded herself. Maybe Aidan, like her, was looking for something more. That might explain (but not excuse) the drinking. There had been a few unguarded moments where she was sure she’d caught the haunting loneliness in his eyes. And she knew she hadn’t imagined the way he’d looked at her when he was trying to figure out why she was being nice to him without expecting anything in return.
Clearly the man had some issues beneath all that pretty packaging.
The caring part of her recognized that and ached to do something about it, but the rest of her was weary. Sometimes it felt as if she’d been taking care of others her entire life. Her dad had been stricken with ALS while she was still in elementary school. Her mom didn’t cope well with his illness, so even at such a young age, Mary had stepped up to be there and care for her father.
After his death, her mom seemed to have completely lost her already-limited maternal instincts. She embraced her newfound freedom with both arms, leaving Mary at home alone more often than not to fend for herself.
Then they’d moved to Birch Falls, and Cam had literally crashed into her life. She’d been barely sixteen...
Mary shook off those thoughts. What was done was done, the past was the past. Rehashing it accomplished nothing more than making her depressed, and that was a waste of time and energy that could be better spent elsewhere.
Mary stared at the small card sitting on the table before her. A business card for the Celtic Goddess resort in Pine Ridge. She wondered if that was where Aidan worked. On the back he’d scribbled his first name and a phone number. His bold, male handwriting made her smile a little; it was so at odds with the man who’d needed her help to remove his own clothes the night before.
No matter how appealing he was on the outside, Mary just could not afford to let herself get involved with a man who needed a caretaker. She couldn’t be sure, of course, that Aidan fell into that category, but there were enough clues to make her wary. He showed poor judgment in drinking too much and trying to get behind the wheel. He wore Levis paired with four-hundred dollar Bruno Magli loafers and a buttery soft leather jacket that probably cost more than she made in a year, but drove around in a battered Honda that probably wouldn’t pass its next inspection. He was a walking contradiction.
And, for a moment at least, he thought she might be in the habit of picking up drunk men in bars and bringing them into her house, although she was pretty sure he realized his mistake soon enough. She actually felt bad for him by the time she dropped him off by his car.
Then again, nobody was perfect. If he had been, he certainly never would have found his way to her.
She liked helping people, she really did, and she would continue to do so. But it would be on her own terms; she would not allow it to become her whole life again if she could possibly help it.
Just once, Mary wished someone might want to take care of her. Not because she needed it, but because they simply wanted to.
She sighed, picking up the card in one hand and carrying it over to the sink. Taking the long-handled clicker she used for her favorite fragrant candles, she applied the flame to the corner, feeling a stab of regret as she watched it consumed by the flames. It was necessary. If she kept his number, she would have been compelled to call him, if only to see how he was doing.
*
Since when had a week been so long and gone so slowly?
Aidan tried everything to stop thinking about Mary. He threw himself into work, coming in early and staying late. He went to BodyWorks and worked out until he was exhausted and his limbs felt like jelly.
He even made the two-hour drive midweek out to the invitation-only, private BSDM club to which he belonged, but not even playing Dom could get her out of his mind for more than a few minutes. It had been impossible to find a partner even close to resembling the soft, naturally lovely features he was oddly craving. For the first time since he’d joined, he had left without partaking in any scenes.
In spite of the long hours and marathon workouts, she was still there, quietly commanding his thoughts. Mary, with her big heart, warm hands and sad brown eyes. The ones that he saw every time he closed his lids.
As he had done at least a hundred times in the last few days, Aidan slid his private cell phone out of his pocket and glanced down at it discreetly. Just like every other time he’d looked, it stared blankly back at him. No missed calls. No unread texts. Nothing.
The question was, why did he care so much? She was so not his type. Aidan preferred tall, leggy blondes, not short, curvy brunettes. He liked his women sleek and well-schooled in certain behaviors, not fresh-faced and natural. And while he told himself that what he really wanted was a woman who liked him for who he was on the inside, he felt more comfortable with females whose eyes glittered at the sight of his sports cars, designer suits, and platinum cards.
Not those who tucked him in bed with tender kisses and soft whispers.