Page 50 of Iron Cross

“I’m fine, really,” I said with a small laugh, as he handed me the warm cup. “What do you do for a living that lets you hover around me all the time?”

I hoped to change the subject, but then realized that maybe what I said was… insensitive?

He smirked. “I’m a truck driver. When I’m not hauling things, I have a bit of free time.”

He was right, of course. I was feeling the effects of whatever daycare plague Cillian had brought home. There was always a sniffle or snot rocket in my immediate future. Children were always sick, and there was no amount of quarantining or cleaning that would ever change that fact.

“I’ll come check on you later,” he said, with a smirk. “I might bring you soup whether you like it or not.”

“Bye!” I called out.

“No, not bye! Never goodbye!” His eyes darkened for just a moment, before it was replaced with his usual jovial expression. “I’ll see you later.”

He walked away without another word and I watched him, perplexed, but also appreciative of the view of his backside. Apparently, Magda agreed as she stood beside me and we watched him walk away in cheap, lustful appreciation.

“Oh, honey, I’m sure he’ll buy all your paintings, if you consider dating him.”

“I don’t date, Magda.”What was it about old, happily married women always trying to pair everyone up?“I’m too busy.”

That was my final answer. For now, and always.

“Honey, I don’t know what Cillian’s father did to make you so guarded, but whatever it was …” She shook her head, sadly. “It must have been bad.”

I didn’t answer her. There was no reason to. I was too tired to care.

I had to paint. I had to put out more completed products for people to buy, and most of all, I needed to get over this fucking cold. I wanted to paint some landscapes, but my mind was more preoccupied than usual today by the ghosts of the past. It happened when Aaron first introduced himself, and the more he was here, the more insisting Eoghan was, trying to batter down the walls I had built in my mind until I had to put his scowling face to paper.

I was feeling incredibly lightheaded. He hadn’t been wrong. My cheeks burned, and if I stood still too long, the world seemed to tilt to the side.

I was trying to close out the till for the day, to make sure that my numbers and sales were accounted for on my little ledger when I had to shut my eyes, just to block out the world until it stopped spinning.

“You’re deep in thought there.” I looked up from my reverie.

It was Aaron.

Of course it was.

“Back so soon?” I whispered, doing my best to not sound irritated, but I knew I failed when his smile wavered, just a little. “Don’t you think you’re going to come on too strong?”

If he was hurt, he didn’t let it show for long. He smiled, and shrugged.

“I’m stalking you,” he said with a good-natured chuckle. “I wanted to see how you were feeling.”

“Oh,” I blushed.

I don’t know why I blushed.

But I looked over Aaron’s shoulder to Magda, who smirked at me and waggled her brows.

“I’m fine!” My voice was too clipped and too high. I was most definitely not fine.

“You can’t blame a man for being concerned, you’ve had this cold for days now.” The smirk disappeared, and was replaced with genuine worry.

I hadn’t known him long enough for him to be this concerned about my health.

“If that’s stalking, honey, sign me up.” Magda looked him up and down, shamelessly checking out Aaron’s butt.

I was going to die.

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