Page 76 of Summer Light on Nantucket

She watched Aaden close his eyes as he took a long drink.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come to Boston.” When he didn’t reply, she said, “Holly, my youngest daughter, was with Celeste when she had the heart attack and she was frightened. An ambulance came, and it was all a rush, and we were frightened for Celeste, and her daughter, Kate, took a while to get to the hospital…”

Aaden slipped his hand over hers. “I understand. You’re very close to your family. That’s one of the many things I admire about you.”

Blythe looked down at their hands. It was so oddly intimate to be sitting in the kitchen at night while the others slept.

She needed to say something. He’d come all this way, but her head was filled with fog.

“How did you manage to get here?” she asked. “I thought no planes flew after ten o’clock.”

“I chartered a private plane.” Aaden ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “I had to see you.”

She was shocked. “You flew private? That’s awfully expensive.” She knew she was avoiding serious conversation. “It’s so late, Aaden. I’m not sure I can even think straight.”

“I know, and for me it’s four in the morning, Irish time. Blythe, I knew I wouldn’t be able to settle until I saw you. I never expected torun into you this summer, and yes, I do know that you have a house on the island. Still, I wasn’t planning to see you. I wasn’t even hoping. But I did see you.”

“Aaden, wait.” She held up her hand.

He shook his head. “I need to say this. I came here tonight to say this. After so many years, you and I were thrown face-to-face together. That seems like fate to me. We are meant to be together.”

“Aaden—”

“I need you, Blythe. I’ve always needed you. I don’t want to live the rest of my life—and you and I have so many more years to live—I don’t want to live without you.”

He was so beautiful, his thick dark hair tumbled in every direction and his eyes still adorned with long dark lashes. His wrestler’s body had less bulk, but he still was heavy-boned, wide-shouldered, a bear of a man. He could fold her into his arms and keep her safe. She remembered being held in his arms.

“Aaden—”

As if he read her thoughts, Aaden said, “Do you remember the night when we were all at Mike’s house and we built a bonfire?”

Blythe shuddered. “I’ll never forget that night. The fire got out of control. It set a dead limb on a maple tree on fire and then sent the fence into flames. Mike called the fire department. Greta found the hose and aimed it at the fire.” She could remember it clearly. The speed and hiss of the fire, the sudden blaze, how they all cheered before realizing how fast the fire was spreading.

“And I picked you up and carried you out to the street, away from danger.”

“Yes. You lifted me in your arms as if I were made of feathers. You were so strong.”

“I’m still so strong. I still want to carry you in my arms.”

Blythe released her hand from his and gently stroked his cheek. “You were like a white knight, rescuing me. A schoolgirl’s fantasy come true.” She allowed herself a moment of surrender. The bristleson his jaw lightly scratched the sensitive palm of her hand, as his skin had grazed her face when they kissed so fervently for so long, in the steamy car Aaden had secluded on a stranger’s cul-de-sac. “My old high school friends still talk about it when we get together. They say it was the most romantic real thing they had ever seen.”

Aaden turned his face slightly and his full lips brushed her palm.

Blythe pulled her hand away.

“Aaden, I’m not a schoolgirl anymore. I’m a mother and I come with four very heavy and demanding children attached.” She was so overwrought that an image of Aaden carrying all five of them, three in his arms, two piggyback, with Miranda’s giraffe legs sticking out, made her laugh.

Irritation flared in Aaden’s eyes. Blythe remembered that look.

He quickly glanced away, and when he met her eyes again, he was smiling.

“I forgot to tell you who I met at the airport. Do you remember Jessica Langston? From high school?”

“Of course I remember Jessica.” Blythe crossed her arms over her chest. She knew this movement was defensive, and she didn’t care.

Jessica Langston was the beautiful girl who had shamelessly chased after Aaden in high school. She’d made it clear that she would do anything Aaden wanted to do. She was the cause of many arguments between Blythe and Aaden. Blythe had hated her.

“I was at the Dublin airport, waiting to board, and she walked by. She recognized me and stopped to say hello. She works in the travel business now. She’s divorced, with one son. She told me to let her know the next time I travel. She can get me some special deals.”

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