Bottom Line (Callaghan Brothers #8)

“And I’m happy for you,” he continued when she opened her mouth to refute him. “I really am. This is the way things were meant to be, and not even I am arrogant enough to second-guess Fate.”


Lexi sat back, biting her bottom lip. For years, he and Lexi were inseparable. His father had paired them together, and Aidan had assumed the role of friend, caretaker, protector, and business partner. While they remained close and still worked together, many of those other roles had been reassigned to her husband and in-laws.

“I love you, Aidan. I always will.”

He smiled at her and laced his fingers through hers. “I know that, Lex. And I love you. My blood’s your blood, yeah?”

It was a running joke between them. Prior to Michael Callaghan’s revolutionary treatment, Lexi’s rare blood disease had required many transfusions over the years, and Aidan had been the primary donor in all of them.

“Yeah,” she agreed, blowing out a breath. “Now quit trying to distract me and get back to your woman. Come on. Dish.”

”She’s not my woman,” he corrected, but something deep inside him protested as he said the words. His rational mind, the one that put his net worth in the nine-figure mark, said it wasn’t possible to make those kinds of assumptions on such limited data.

“But she is something. She lives in Birch Falls, has a big yellow Lab named Max that thinks he’s human, and works in a flower shop. Conlan O’Leary thinks very highly of her, too,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“He does, huh?” Lexi mused. “Well, far be it from me to second-guess Daideo. Ian said he’s known for sixth sense about those kinds of things.”

“What kind of things?”

“People. Who’s meant for whom. That kind of thing. Keely says he’s the one who basically set her and Mick Connelly up. Did Daideo say you should ask her out?”

Aidan thought back. “Not exactly. He did warn me not to hurt her, though.”

Lexi nodded. “That’s good. If he didn’t think there was something there he would have told you flat out to leave her alone.”

“You think?”

“I do. So. You’re bringing her here for your date, right?”

Aidan shook his head. “No. I’m helping her out with something at her place. I said I’d bring dinner. You’ll help me out, right?”

“Of course I will, you big goof. But why not bring her here? You know, dazzle her a little? Impress her with some of that Aidan Harrison magic?”

“Because. She doesn’t know about any of this,” he confessed, waving his hand in the air, symbolically encompassing the Goddess. “She thinks I’m a regular guy.”

“You are a regular guy,” Lexi told him. “You just happen to be an insanely wealthy, powerful one, too.”

“Yeah, well, she doesn’t need to know that yet. It’s kind of nice thinking she likes me for just me, you know?”

Lexi’s eyes softened. “Wow. You really like this one, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You think she might be The One?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. It was too early for that, and to be truthful, he didn’t know if there even was such a thing. On the surface, he wanted what every other man wanted - a loving, devoted woman who cared more for him than anything else. But underneath, Aidan had a darkness that needed to be fed regularly. He’d always hoped that if he could find a woman that satisfied everything else, he’d be strong enough to keep that other part of him in check, but he feared otherwise. And as promising as Mary seemed, it was simply too much to hope that underneath her milk-and-honey exterior, she was a closet submissive who would not only be capable of satisfying his needs, but wanting and needing it every bit as much as he did.

“I do know that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. That she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

“That’s a good start,” Lexi said, smiling. “Now let’s see what we can do about keeping it going. What are we making for her this weekend?”

*

Mary rearranged the colorful planter. Again. She cast a critical eye into every last nook and crevice, but she already knew the place was immaculate. She’d been cleaning like a fiend since about two minutes after Aidan had left, wanting everything to be absolutely perfect.

Assuming he showed up.

Pushing the niggling doubts to the back of her mind, she paced from one room to the next, making final inspections. Everything glowed, shined, and smelled fresh. The heat was at a comfortable seventy-two degrees. The fridge and cupboards were packed with everything a man might want to snack on. Every offbeat British comedy and parody she had in her possession was dusted and placed where it could be readily snagged.

With a heavy exhale, she realized there was nothing else she could do. She looked at her watch.

Five a.m.

Only another eight hours to go.

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