Page 25 of Married to Number 22
He’s been vibratingwith energy from the moment I came out of the bedroom.
Something I definitely didn’twantto do, believe me.
I could have hidden there all day.
But as I slowly dressed, his family didn’t show any sign of leaving and anyway, my conscience couldn’t handle hiding in the bedroom and leaving Aiden to handle the mess of them finding us indisposed all alone.
So, I made sure all my pertinent parts were covered, fixed my orgasm hair as much as possible, and summoned the courage to make my way out into the front room.
Where I introduced myself.
But that hadn’t been necessary—because Kathy remembered me.
“Oh, my God, Luna Maybelle!” Her eyes had lit up. “Evie Maybelle’s granddaughter. God, it’s been an age since I’ve seen you!”
And I can’t lie that it felt good to be swept into her arms, wrapped tight in a welcoming hug, that Carrie and Ralph, Dave and Matt had all done the same…and that each insisted that I join them at Molly’s for a joint birthday breakfast, no matter how much I tried to demure.
Now, we’ve all gone over to Molly’s and I’ve eaten my body weight in carbs.
I even smoothed things over for Aiden on the wholegirlfriendfront, making an excuse about running into him and reconnecting yesterday—so while his family might think we moved to horizontal fun time too quickly, at least no marriage contracts were mentioned and neither was my internet stalking or middle of the night visit.
But when she finishes telling us about her cruise and focuses back on me, asking a truly dreadful—though, she doesn’t know it—question I feel my carefully held together facade begin to crumble., “How is Evie? How is your grandmother?”
God, I miss Grams.
She sees that—or maybe she sees the way Aiden reacts, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and drawing me back against his side, tucking me into his strength.
“Oh honey,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry.”
But she doesn’t go further than that.
Just squeezes my arm and changes the subject to Carrie and the girls—who are about as opposite as two people can get. “And Leslie had three goals last game, but her favorite part was checking the girl on the other team and getting away with it.”
Aiden chuckles.
Matt nods approvingly.
“And Simone,” Kathy goes on. “Luna, honey, you would not believe what she can play on the piano. It’s absolutely beautiful.”
“I bet.”
Kathy takes my hand. “Now, sweetie pie. I want to hear more about you. Tell me what you’ve been doing.”
Nothing.Everything.
Still, I’m not ready to talk about it, Grams and my family, the will and how it’s messed with my life, so I keep my explanations carefully vague, not missing the looks Aiden shoots me, telling me he knows precisely what I’m doing.
“And so,” I say a tad nervously as I finish up my very glossed over explanation of the last few years, “I get to have Aiden and his gorgeous smile”—I touch his cheek and add, even though I shouldn’t because it goes against all those middle of the night promises again—“in my life again.”
His face—God, hiseyes.
They make me both want to run screaming from the bakery…and lean closer to explore all the unsaid things in their deep green depths.
Can’t do that.
Shouldn’t be here.
And yet…I can’t tear myself away.
