Page 13 of Falling for You Again

Aaron found his voice first. “You okay?” His thumb stroked my cheek. I nodded, dazed. He leaned forward and said by my ear, “We did it.”

“We did.”

“Twenty-four hours,wife.”

“Twenty-four hours,husband.” No big deal.

I wasn’t breaking my promise to myself about never marrying. I wasn’t putting a relationship before my art. We were only beingplayful and adventurous, exactly what we’d written on our list. And that commingling of excitement and exhilaration buzzing through me? That otherworldly experience of his kiss, as if I’d waited for years to feel exactly that? To feel him? It meant nothing.

I had everything under control.

Goodness, was I naive.

Chapter 7

One-Two-Three

A quirky smile tugs on my lips. “Were you expecting me?” I ask Aaron as a kaleidoscope of emotions dances in his eyes, mirroring the feelings that wash over me—joy, surprise, disbelief, longing. I have so many questions about the past five years. Did he miss me? Did I often cross his mind? Did he ever regret our agreement? There have been many days I wish we kept in touch, because I think of him often. I have missed him.

“Yes. No! No, I wasn’t.” Aaron finally comes around to answering my question. “I’m glad you came, though. How have you been?”

“Good. Hey, um ...,” I begin, remembering I came tonight for a reason. My gaze briefly jumps to the man behind him. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but do you have a few moments? We need to talk.”

“Aaron?” asks the man with him. “Care to introduce us?”

Aaron moves aside, which brings him closer to me. I catch the faint scent of his cologne, the familiar pine spice warming my nose, and I feel a flutter in my chest. We’ve barely spoken, and already I know my attraction to him hasn’t diminished.

The man joins our circle. “Dad,” Aaron politely introduces. “This is Melissa Hynes. She’s with Artisant Designs and, in my opinion, their finest craftsman. She’s also Bernard Hynes’s niece.”

My brows lurch upward. If I had any doubts Aaron wasn’t at least familiar with the Savant House’s interest in acquiring Artisant Designs and the position his company is creating on my behalf, he effectively erased them with the mere mention of my uncle’s name. Displeasure courses through me. I can’t believe Aaron didn’t reach out the moment he learned of my uncle’s desire to sell the shop. We have a no-contact agreement, which I’m completely disregarding at this very moment, but still ... I just arrived and I already feel like he’s let me down.

Aaron watches me closely and his brows pull together as my delight over seeing him dims. His smile turns hesitant, wary. “Meli, this is my dad, Graham Borland, our CEO.”

“Not for long. I’m waiting for this guy to let me retire.” Graham claps Aaron’s shoulder. “Lovely to meet you, dear.”

I quickly get over my shock at how much older than my uncle Graham is. He must have at least fifteen years on Bear. Aaron is only thirty-two. He wasn’t kidding when he told me in Vegas that his dad had kids at an older age.

I take Graham’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“We’ll finish this later, son. I’m sure you two have much to discuss.” Graham dips his chin at me before plunging into the crowd, where he’s quickly swooped up into another conversation.

Aaron and I turn to each other. He leans forward, close to my ear. “Hello, wife.”

The fluttering in my chest returns. I’m giddy being near him again. “Husband.” My ghost of a smile matches his, hinting at an amusement we can’t quite contain.

Technically, Aaron is my ex-husband. When we returned to Boston, we couldn’t annul our marriage. That’s what happens when you enter into a contract mentally fit, then take off to Maui for five days. But Aaron’s attorney was discreet and our separation was quick, uncontested, and quiet. His attorney’s office orchestrated the entire process online. Aaron and I didn’t even have to speak to each other. We haven’t texted, emailed, or spoken since.

But I have googled him—obsessively in those early days. While our time together became just a memory and felt more like a movie I watched only once and didn’t plan to see again, Aaron haunts my dreams. He continues to torment my thoughts. Not a day has gone by when my mind doesn’t take me back to the week I spent with him.

Aaron slides his hands into his trouser pockets, looking sophisticated and elegant in a tuxedo that clings to him like a second skin. He’s a broader version of the man I met on the plane, even more attractive with age. He exudes a quiet magnetism, always drawing my eyes. Gone are his boyish twenties. And his smile ... It’s charming and amusing. Whyishe smiling?

“What?” I ask with a tentative smile of my own.

“You. You’re here.”

“In the flesh.” I lift my hands as if to say,Here I am.

“Are you here with someone?” He glances behind me.

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