Page 133 of One Time in Paris
Maybe I should’ve told him I didn’t mean forever.
She reached the main gate to the garden, shoving her way through it as she swiped her tears away. The soft crunch of tires drew her attention as a car turned into the parking lot, then sped toward her and stopped.
The back door opened, and her knees nearly gave out.
Aiden.
40
AIDEN
Aiden rolledhis shoulders as he stepped out of the car, stiff and sore. He’d left Skye with his brothers and Callum, flew from Inverness to London, then immediately climbed aboard a private jet and flown to Portland, Maine, which was still an hour south of Paris.
He’d been traveling for almost fifteen hours straight.
But he would have traveled fifteen months if that was what it took to get to Isla.
His heart slammed into his chest as his eyes focused on the trails of tears on her cheeks, the redness of her eyes, and the heartbreak on her face.
I never should have waited to come.
He grabbed the only bag he’d brought with him—a rucksack—and set it down, then closed the car door. The Uber drove away, leaving the faint trail of exhaust in the air as Aiden turned his focus to Isla.
She was motionless, a slight divot between her brows as she stared at him—as though she couldn’t quite believe if he was real or she’d imagined him.
Was she upset with him being here?
She didn’tappearhappy.
“You came,” she whispered at last, looking like she might crumple.
He didn’t hesitate. Closing the space between them, he pulled her into his arms the way he’d been imagining doing this entire trip. “I should have come sooner. I know you didn’t want me to, but?—”
“I wanted you to,” Isla said, her voice thick with tears.
What?His breath emptied, and with it, the tension he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying finally broke loose.
She sniffled and pulled back just enough to look up at him, her breath broken and uneven. “How did you know I needed you?”
The sight of her tears made a lump rise in his throat, and he cleared it before answering, “Callum, actually. He came to see me.”
He caught sight of Kyle just past the gate to this place. Davy had texted him the address when he’d landed in Portland. Kyle gave a faint smile, stepped back, and turned to walk away.
Isla wiped her cheeks. “You talked to Callum?”
He nodded, the spark of hope in her eyes helping him feel more settled. “I did. We’ve still got a way to go, but things are on the mend. He didn’t threaten me, so that’s a good start.” Cupping her face, he brushed away her tears. “Where were you heading off to in such a rush?”
“I just wanted to go home.” She looked away, something sad and wounded in her tone. “The show used our business as a focal point for the episodes, and I’m so mad at Davy for it. They had no right. And she knew about it.”
“I know.” One of his hands slid into the hair at the nape of her neck as he cradled her close to him, his other hand firm around her waist. “I saw the episode. Callum had me watch that, too.”
The cameras, it turned out, had caught a substantial amount of time between them.
His discussion with Isla in the trailer that first day he’d arrived in Texas.
The way he’d watched her during the wine festival.
Carried her out of the fountain.
