Best of My Love (Fool's Gold, #20)(15)
“Your father and I are talking about going away again,” his mother said. “Our vacation last fall was so nice for both of us. We’re looking at taking one of those river cruises in Germany.”
“That would be good,” he said automatically, thinking that being trapped with his father on a boat was his idea of hell. But his mom would have a different view of things. “I’m glad you’re getting away more.”
“Me, too. Now that your father is slowing down with his work, we can think about other things.”
Right. Because every part of their life was defined by Ceallach’s work. That came first and the rest of it could wait its turn.
Stuck, Aidan reminded himself. Here was a prime example of why he never wanted to be in love. His mother was always the one who bent, who surrendered to whatever Ceallach wanted. He remembered being a kid and asking her why she didn’t tell his dad to stop destroying his work. She’d told him it wasn’t that easy—that Ceallach had his demons.
At eight or ten or twelve, Aidan hadn’t cared about demons. He’d cared that he could hear his mother crying because another commission had been destroyed and there wasn’t any money. That she didn’t know how she was going to feed her children.
Whatever the problem, Ceallach was always right, always the important one. Theirs wasn’t a partnership, at least not from his perspective. He’d often wondered why she stayed. No. The real question was why she’d married the man in the first place.
She poured them each a cup of coffee. “You should think about getting away.”
He took the mug and grinned. “Mom, my life is a vacation.”
“Not the business aspect of it.”
“I don’t mind that.”
She studied him. “I guess you never did. You were always smart that way. It’s interesting how you and Del are so different from your brothers.”
“You mean not like Dad?”
“I mean different.” Her voice chided ever so gently. “Speaking of your brothers, have you seen Nick?”
“Sure. A few days ago. Why?”
“I worry about him. But then I worry about all my boys.”
He knew that in her way, she was telling the truth. She’d always been there for her sons, loving them, taking care of them. He’d known that she would listen, would do her best to understand, even if, in the end, she would side with his father.
Like every good mother, she’d always claimed to love her five boys equally. Still, if he was asked to say who was her favorite, he would have to admit it was Ronan. The irony of that truth was the fact that Ronan wasn’t even hers. As he and Del had found out the previous fall, Ronan was their half brother—the result of Ceallach’s affair. Yet when his ex-mistress had abandoned her child, Elaine had taken him in and passed him off as one of her own. Mathias’s twin.
More secrets, he thought, wondering briefly what else he didn’t know about his family. Of course there were things they didn’t know about him. Like how badly he felt about what had happened on New Year’s Eve. And how he was determined to be different. But no matter how he changed, he knew one thing for sure. He would never fall in love. The pleasure was nowhere near worth the pain.
CHAPTER FOUR
SHELBY WASN’T SURE what to expect when she showed up at Aidan’s house on Saturday afternoon, but the small, well-kept bungalow was something of a surprise. There was a two-car garage, a wide porch and a huge snowman in the front yard. While most of the town celebrated Cabin Fever Days with snow people of all genders and sizes, she hadn’t thought that Aidan would be one to participate.
His snowman was about five feet tall, with a sturdy shape and smiling face. A ski cap topped his head and two ski poles leaned against him, as if he was about to embark on an outdoor adventure. There was a whimsical quality about the snowman—maybe in the way he seemed ready to spring to life. Aidan might not have his father’s talent to work with glass, but she would guess there were a few lingering artistic genes in him.
She walked up the porch stairs and knocked on the front door. In the few seconds it took him to answer, she acknowledged the nerves bouncing around in her stomach. Part of her wanted to bolt—there was no way this was going to work. But the sensible part of her, the part that had been to therapy and read a bunch of books and really wanted to get better, knew that showing up was the first step. That if her goal of healing from the damage done to her psyche was to be reached, she had to go through the process. Running away rarely accomplished anything.
Aidan opened the door. “Right on time. Come on in.”
She did as he requested, careful to stomp the snow off her boots before walking into the house.
There was a forty-second bit of busyness to distract her from her nerves—unwinding her scarf, handing over her coat before stepping out of her boots. She noticed that Aidan was also in stocking feet, but his socks were thick and dark, while hers were covered with brightly colored cats. The contrast made her smile.
They were both in jeans and sweaters. His navy, hers dark pink. She hadn’t known what to do about makeup and perfume and all that stuff. Because this wasn’t a date. She was hanging out with a friend. But still, she’d wondered, and in the end had done what she did for work. Mascara and lip gloss.
They stared at each other. He was tall and broad. Masculine. The foyer was small and they were standing close together. Awkwardness pressed in on her. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, let alone her body.