Page 21 of Falling for You Again

“As if this is nothing?” I circle an arm in the air at the extravagant primary suite. His room looks like a page from the Savant House catalog. I can only imagine the value of this property, given its location.

“Family money.”

His tone insinuates trust fund, but he isn’t bragging. I sense a quiet acquiescence. His life is what it is, and there isn’t much he can do about it. His parents really did force him into the family business.

“I’ve taken a few trade classes—Intro to Woodturning, Elements of Design, Joinery.”

“Really? You didn’t mention that.” I roll onto my side, fascinated.

“Because you’re so skilled and my stuff is child’s play.” He turns to me, his hair flopping over his forehead. I gently sweep it back and his eyes close, giving me the sense he’s savoring my touch.

“What have you built?” I ask, bemused at his embarrassment. Aaron is humble, but he’s not someone who’s easily mortified.

“A few pieces I will never show anyone.”

“I want to see. I promise I won’t laugh.”

“Not happening, so get over it.” He presses his forehead to mine.

I pretend-pout and he gently flicks my bottom lip. “Favorite thing about my job?” His arm loops my waist and he pulls me closer. No part of me is not touching him. “Not my current one, but when I was the acquisitions director? I loved meeting artisans in their workspaces. There’s something sacred about woodshops. They’re vibrant, teeming with activity and creativity, and full of possibilities. To have the skill to shape wood into something useful, something more than its original form and purpose? I wish I could do that.”

I stare at him. I knew he didn’t like working at the Savant House and wanted to do something more. But the way he described what it feels like to work in a shop like Artisant? It’s like he understands why I do what I do.

From the moment I met Aaron, I felt like he understood me. That we understood each other on a level nobody else did. But I didn’t give much weight to the feeling, because how could we relate to each other better than friends and family who’d known us much longer?

That feeling comes rushing back now. This time, I grasp hold of it.

“The first breath I take when I get to work in the morning is my favorite. The wood shavings and resin. Most people don’t like the chemical odor. I relish it.”

“I find everything about you and what you do interesting. I envy that.”

“Then why are you still working for your parents?”

“It’s where they need me.”

“You should quit if you’re not happy.”

He sighs. “I owe it to them to stay.”

I admire his dedication, but I hate that our families wield so much control over our futures.

I cup his jaw. His eyes flutter closed and he presses his cheek into my palm.

“Why did you break off your engagement?” I ask. Maybe he is taking control of his destiny.

“I didn’t. Fallon did. She wasn’t happy, and she could tell I wasn’t either. We’re better off with other people.”

“Is there someone else for you?”

He meets my gaze. His eyes are piercing. “I hope to find out soon.”

Sameis the first thought that lands in my head, along with a flutter in my chest. To have his companionship and affection. What a life that could be. But a cold dread settles in my stomach. Any meaningful relationship will inevitably come down to me having to choose between loving him and loving my craft, a road I don’t care to travel again.

I turn the conversation back to Fallon. “Why weren’t you happy with her?”

“Truth?”

“Don’t we always tell each other the truth?”

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