‘ROSA.’
‘Go back inside, Aaron.’
‘Not until you tell me what’s going on with you.’
How many times would she have to tell him that it was nothing? That nothing was wrong? Would she have to keep convincing him? She wasn’t sure she could. And her impulsive decision to come outside in the rain was fast becoming one of her worst ones.
She’d just wanted some space, like she’d told him. And she’d wanted to breathe something other than the tension in the air between them.
Now she was sopping wet, the rain finally penetrating her skin. She was cold. She was miserable. And yes, she was in pain. She didn’t want things to be the way they were between them. But what choice did she have?
She was doing this for the good of them. She was doing it for him. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone to do that in peace?
She turned to him now, took in his appearance. He was as soaked as she was, and yet he gave no indication of it. She’d always admired how at home he seemed to be in his body. How he owned the space around it, even though he was taller, stronger, more intimidating than most. He never seemed out of place. Even here, in the rain, soaked to the core, no doubt, he looked as if he belonged.
With me, she thought, and nearly sobbed.
‘Let’s go back inside then,’ she managed quietly, and walked past him before realising she would soak the entire floor if she went in wearing her dress.
The small carpet at the door would probably soak up some of it. But the rest of the floor would not escape unscathed. Forcing herself to be practical, she undid the ties of her dress at her waist. And then she dropped it to the floor before stepping out of it.
She refused to look back. Knew what her actions would seem like, and after what had happened outside...
She was just being practical, she thought again as she turned on the lights and went to the bathroom for towels. When she handed one to Aaron his expression was unreadable.
But the silence between them flirted with the tension that was still there. Wooing it. Courting it. Reminding them of what would have happened at any other time had she stood in front of him in shapewear that clung to the curves of her body.
It was the dress kind that plunged at her breasts and stopped mid-thigh, and hastily she patted down the water from her body before picking up her soaking dress and fleeing to the safety of the bathroom.
She released an unsteady breath when she got there and then squeezed the excess water from her dress, wincing at the destruction it didn’t deserve. Making the best of the situation, she hung it over the door and then stepped into the shower. She made quick work of it, knowing that the door was open a smidge now because of the dress. She didn’t want to take any more chances with Aaron.
Not that he’d cross that boundary. Not when his control was back in place after what had happened on the balcony. It was stupid to feel disappointed, she admonished herself, and reached for another towel—there seemed to be plenty of them, fortunately—and then tied it around herself before opening the door widely.
And walking right into Aaron.
His hands reached out to steady her, though her own hands had immediately lifted to his chest to steady herself. Only then did she notice that her face was directly in line with his chest. That fact wasn’t a surprise. He was significantly taller than her.
No, the surprise was that his chest was bare.
She blinked. Stepped back. And then saw that he wore only the towel she’d given him around his waist.
Her mind went haywire. Memories overwhelmed her. Suddenly she was thinking about all the times she would have jumped into those arms, wrapped her legs around his waist, kissed him. And how those kisses would have turned into something more urgent as soon as she had.
Her breathing went shallow and she told herself to step around him. To ignore how his body hadn’t changed. How the contours of his muscles were still as defined, as deep. How his shoulders were still strong, still broad. How his torso was still ripped.
She loved his body. Loved how big and strong he was. How he could pick her up, carry her around and not lose so much as a breath as he did.
Like the time she’d teased him about not wanting to accompany him to some event. He’d threatened to carry her there and, when she’d goaded him, had made good on the threat, though the event hadn’t been for hours.
He’d picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She’d complained, squirmed, called him a caveman for doing it. But she’d loved it. And when he’d set her down she’d given him a playful punch to the chest before launching herself into his arms and—
‘Excuse me.’
His deep voice interrupted the memories and she nodded. Stepped around him. And let out a sigh of relief when some of the tension inside her cooled.
She figured out her clothing options quickly. She’d have to wear the lingerie Liana had packed for her as underwear and, since none of the other clothing would be comfortable, she’d wear one of Aaron’s shirts over it.
She was buttoning up the shirt when Aaron emerged from the bathroom, again in nothing but that towel.
Her heart started to thud. She forced herself to focus on something else.
‘I’m going to try the kitchen and hope your mother left coffee.’ That was something else, she thought gratefully. ‘Would you like some?’
He nodded and she walked away as fast as she could. Fortunately, Liana had left coffee and she busied herself with the task. But her mind wandered and, since she didn’t want to slip back into memories, she thought about why she’d stepped out into the rain in the first place.
She’d felt claustrophobic. And plagued by the connection she and Aaron had shared. The rain had offered an alternative. An escape. It had seemed like a perfectly logical thing to do at the time. And yet it wasn’t.
She’d made too many decisions like that in her life. Because she’d wanted to test herself. To see how those spontaneous decisions made her feel.
It was a form of control, she thought. The only kind she’d had. She’d been lost in the world of her mother’s anxiety for the longest time, and those spontaneous decisions had been a reprieve. Even though some of them had been stupid. Even though some of them had got her into trouble. They were her decisions. And when she made them, for the briefest of moments she felt free.
But freedom had come at a price. And that price had been—when she’d felt that lump in her breast in the shower—leaving her husband.
Because that lump had made her think she had cancer. And how could she put Aaron through that again when she didn’t think he’d fully recovered from his mother’s illness? Especially when hers could have been prevented if she’d just made the right decision when she’d had the chance.
But, like so many other moments in her life, she didn’t know what the right decision would be. Uncertainty clouded every one she’d made. Even running away to protect Aaron seemed uncertain. And now, as she thought about it, her stomach turned, her heart thudded at the doubt...
‘It always used to drive me crazy, how quiet you were,’ she heard herself say suddenly. She closed her eyes, told herself it would be better to speak—even if she was speaking about things she should leave in the past—than to let her mind go down that path again.
‘I know.’
She whirled around, then shook her head. ‘You always know.’
He was wearing jeans and a shirt, though somehow he looked just as gorgeous as he had in his suit. Perhaps because he hadn’t buttoned the shirt up entirely, and she could see his collarbone, the start of his chest...
‘Not always,’ he responded quietly. ‘But this, you told me. Too many times to count.’
He walked to the couch, sank down on it with a fatigue she’d rarely seen him show. Her fault, she thought. And added the guilt to the sky-high pile she already had when it came to him.
She sighed. ‘You should have told me to stop harassing you.’
‘You weren’t harassing me.’
She set his coffee on the table and took a seat on a different couch. ‘It didn’t bother you?’
‘How could it? You said it to me before we got together. I can’t fault you for something I knew about when we met.’
It was ridiculous to feel tears prick at her eyes, and she took a gulp from her coffee—burning her tongue in the process—to hide it from him. But she’d been reminded of how unselfishly Aaron had loved her.
He wasn’t like her father. He would have accepted her anxiety about her health. He would have supported her decision not to get screened for breast cancer. He wouldn’t have given up on their relationship, like her father had on his marriage. But she couldn’t be sure.
She’d often asked herself why her mother hadn’t left her father because of his lack of support. The only answer she had come up with was that her mother had been scared. And that that fear had been rooted in selfishness. Violet hadn’t wanted to go through her illness alone. And her marriage—even the illusion of it—prevented that.
But Aaron didn’t deserve that. Again, Rosa thought that it would have been selfish for her to stay. To do what her mother had done. And it would have been worse for Aaron because he wouldn’t check out like her father had. Worse still because he’d already been through so much.
The decision seemed clear now, though she knew it wasn’t. Not when she looked into his eyes. Not when she saw the pain there.
‘I didn’t mean to drive you crazy.’ Aaron spoke so softly Rosa almost thought she’d imagined it.
‘I loved it,’ she said immediately. ‘Not in that moment, of course, because your quietness would always make me run my mouth off about something.’ Like now. She stared down into her cup. ‘But I loved it.’
‘But...it annoyed you.’
‘No. Driving me crazy and annoying me are two different things. You being okay with things being quiet between us? That drove me crazy. You taking my car to work without telling me? That was annoying.’
His lips curved. ‘It was more economical.’
‘Sure, Mr Big-Shot Lawyer.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘You were thinking about being economical.’
‘I was.’
‘No, what you were thinking was that my car would help make some of your clients feel more comfortable. Which, after I got through my annoyance at finding myself with your massive SUV when I had to go into town where the parking spaces are minuscule, I’d forgive you for.’
‘You always did forgive quickly.’
‘Not always,’ she said softly.
‘Rosa?’ She looked up. ‘What did I do? What couldn’t you forgive?’