Where was Celia’s favorite place to visit? No fucking clue.
“Probably home.”
“Phoenix?”
“Yeah. I, uh . . . I miss my family.”
“Do you talk to your sister much?”
I rip at the edges of my paper napkin. “Uh-huh.” I know he’s asking about Sawyer, me being Celia, but I answer honestly.
As soon as she turned eighteen she left home and our paths only crossed on the occasional Christmas if she just happened to be passing through town. We never really knew where she was at any time, and that made remaining close difficult.
Until she got sick.
Funny how it takes something like illness and death to bring people back together, and by then . . . it’s too late.
“You said you don’t really talk to your family anymore, does that include your sister?” I internally pat myself on the back for redirecting the conversation off of me like he did the other night.
His fingers drum against the chair. “Yeah, pretty much all of them.”
“I bet they miss you.”
He cringes. “I don’t know about that.”
“Why? I know this probably won’t come as a surprise to you, but I personally think you’re a pretty decent guy.”
He studies me for a few seconds, then leans as if to avoid anyone overhearing what he’s about to say. “They don’t think I’m . . . safe . . . anymore.”
“Why would they think that?”
“Because I told them I’m not.”
I shake my head hoping the action will make whatever he’s trying to tell me fall into place and make sense.
“I can be around them for limited periods of time, but my sister worries about me being around her kids . . .” He purses his lips. “Fuck, I really don’t feel like talking about this.”
Instinctively I reach out and grasp his hand. “You sure? I’m a pretty good listener.”
He flips his hand around to hold mine, interweaving our fingers. “I know you are, but would it be all right if we stopped talking about this deep shit and moved on to something a little lighter, like say . . .” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “You spending tonight with me on the boat?”
My stomach flips over on itself. “Sleeping on a boat?”
He scrunches up his face in the most adorable way. “I can’t promise the sleeping, but I will absolutely promise it’ll be a night you’ll never forget.”
I’m nodding before my lips can even form the word. “Yes.”
Because soon enough I’ll be out of his life and I’ll go back to being Sawyer, the kind of girl who would never turn the head of a guy like Aden, and I’ll be able to go on living my sheltered safe life knowing what it’s like to truly live.
That is, if I survive it.
THIRTEEN
ADEN
“Sorry about the mess.” I shove away a stack of papers to clear a spot for Celia’s laptop on Cal’s old desk. The rusty chair creaks as I pull it out and I motion for her to sit.
She has her computer clutched to her chest and she nods and drops slowly to the seat. “When was the last time you actually stayed here?”
I run a hand over my scalp. “It’s been awhile. I know it looks out of control, but I swear there’s a logical method to all this madness.”
Her eyes scan what must be close to a month’s worth of unopened mail. “Does that logical method include actually opening the mail?” She plucks up an envelope, setting down her laptop before grasping another, and another. “Aden, these look important.”
I rub the back of my neck feeling a little guilty and a lot stupid. Thing is, Cal comes down every couple months to take care of all . . . those, whatever they are. “Yeah, the bank has been on Cal about this property. My job is to keep them away, not get involved, and let Cal take care of it. It’s not my business. I’m just here to fix shit that breaks and collect rent.”
“Uh-huh.” She doesn’t seem to be listening to what I’m saying as she creates four small piles in front of her, sorting through the mail and placing each envelope in a different pile.
I slide a stack of Sport Fishing magazines off the dusty black machine. “Here’s the printer.” I lift the top to expose the scanning glass. “Here’s where you . . .” She’s not even looking my way. “Celia.” Her shoulders pull back and her spine stiffens before she peers up at me. “Are you listening?”
She eyes the printer and nods. “I’ll figure it out.” She goes back to organizing.
“You have work to do and this ain’t it.”
“I don’t mind.” She’s practically glowing as she organizes each piece of mail with a practiced ease. The expression on her face reminds me of my own when I bust open a new lure to play with.
“I can see that, but still.” From the way my uncle spoke of Celia I know he trusts her so I don’t think twice about her going through his mail and sorting it for him.
“Aden . . .” She slaps down another envelope in a pile. “Don’t you have something to do, like fix shit and collect rent, ya know? Like you said.”
I get the feeling she’s trying to get rid of me so she can indulge in her freakish need to organize. She’s right, though. I should go fish. I need the money and I’d like to catch something for us to have for dinner tonight. “I’m not leaving you in this place alone. I don’t trust you to leave it trashed.”
A tiny smile tilts her lips, but she doesn’t stop with the stacking. “You’re probably right, but I’ll try.”
“Hey.”
Now I get her eyes, wide and as green as fresh grass.
“I’m serious. I’d insist you stop doing what you’re doing but you look so fucking happy doin’ it I don’t have the heart to make you stop. Get your work done first, okay?”
“I will.”
I grip her chin and lean in to bring her mouth to mine. She tastes like syrup and orange juice. Wanting to consume her, I nip at her full upper lip. “Meet me at the boat tonight at sunset?”
“Okay.”
“Bring an appetite.”
“Yeah . . .” Her voice is breathy and so damn sexy.
I pop open her laptop and point to it. “I’m serious, Cece. Your work first.”
Her shoulders deflate and her eyes drop to my stomach. Shit, I’m fucking this up. I need to walk away before she changes her mind.
“See ya tonight.” I drop one more kiss on her head and force my feet to move, leaving her alone in Cal’s place.
I slide into my truck and fire up the engine, excited about getting out on the ocean and getting some distance between me and the girl who’s quickly consuming my every conscious thought.