Page 125 of One Time in Paris
Callum stepped out, then Mason.
Then Quinn.
Aiden stared at them, his pulse burning slow and steady.
Fuck.The time away had been absolutely bloody necessary, but he knew he’d cocked up every relationship he was in. It hadn’t taken long, and he’d mostly felt shame. But then there was the pain he still felt from Isla’s last message, asking for space.Again.
So much for a peaceful interlude.
There was only one reason they'd come all this way, and it wasn't for tea. But he was too tired to keep running—both figuratively and literally—and they’d already spotted him anyway.
He strolled toward them, taking his time as he stretched one arm, then the other. Like their presence here didn’t rattle him.
Like the last time he’d seen them, they hadn’t all been looking at him as though he was an unforgiveable villain.
“Morning,” Quinn said first, unsmiling.
“Morning.” Aiden furrowed his brow, trying to read their expressions.
He didn’t have much to say. A part of him already knew why they were here, so he nodded and gestured toward the cottage, then walked past them and went inside.
Quinn and Mason followed.
Callum did not.
Smashing.
Aiden went toward the small kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, then downed it in a few gulps. He barely lifted his gaze toward his brothers. “Tea?”
“Yes, thank you,” Mason said, then sat on the small sofa that took up most of the adjoining living room.
Aiden filled the kettle, then plugged it in. He set both hands on the counter, bracing his weight against it, then leveled his gaze at Quinn, who was busy staring out the window.
“Nice view,” Quinn said in a deep voice.
“May was always my favorite month here,” Aiden said. “Rain’s not quite so unbearable.”
Thank goodness for stereotypical English behavior.He could always count on a nonthreatening conversation about the weather.
But that would do nothing to end the awkwardness, so he cleared his throat. “Why are you here?”
Quinn glanced at Mason, who clasped his hands, leaning forward. “Everything’s running smoothly at work, you should know. In case you were worried.”
“I wasn’t.” Aiden poured another glass of water. “I think I’ve earned a bloody holiday, wouldn’t you say?”
“You have,” Mason said with a grimace. “You absolutely have. And Dad told us to remind you that the best CEOs should be able to take leave or holiday and know that everything will be in good hands. Which it is. Because you do a good job, Aiden. Better than good—excellent?—”
“I know I do.” Aiden’s eyes narrowed at him. Maybe he shouldn’t be such an arsehole about accepting a compliment.
Quinn sighed, then turned fully toward Aiden. “What Mason is doing a piss-poor job of telling you is that we’ve all been a bit hard on you, mate. Don’t worry, we’re not here to interrupt your well-earned holiday, and we won’t be staying, even if it did take us a bleeding long time to get to this remote part of the world. But both of us owe you an apology. Not only for interfering in your personal business but also for putting so much on you.”
They were here to apologize?
Aiden held Quinn’s gaze, unable to fully comprehend what he was hearing.
He’d spent the week certain that the only way to bridge this chasm between him and his brothers was if he groveled. Came back on his hands and knees.
He hadn’t expected this.
