Page 12 of Lonely Beard
Aiden
At dawn, I get her car working in five minutes flat. There’s barely anything wrong with it, though Grace blinks at me like I’m a mechanical god, a tartan blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
The ghost of yesterday’s hope stirs in my gut, but I tamp it down. She’s already decided she’s leaving. She ducked into my bathroom with a pile of her dried clothes after breakfast, then came out wearing that skirt suit again.
Sure, it’s creased to hell and smells like smoke after drying by the fire overnight. But it feels like a message: the laughing, intimate, joyful Grace from dinner last night is gone. A distant memory. Professional matchmaker Grace is back.
Watch out, world.
“Thank you for letting me stay.” She’s nothing but smooth politeness as she folds the tartan blanket and hands it back. She folded my sweater like that too, and left it in a pile on the coffee table with those red knitted socks balled on top. When she wasn’t looking, I spread my palm over the pile of fabric, but it was too late. Her body heat was gone. “It’s been… um.”
Yup. It’sbeen.
“Take care, Grace.” There are a thousand other things I want to say to her, a hundred reasons I want to give for her to stay, but for once, the pain in my throat is getting the better of me. Can’t choke out the words. “Go slowly on the mountain roads.”
She nods, face ashen. “I will.”
And I should reassure her, should make her feel better about the drive down to Cloudy Lake, but as I tug her car door open, I can’t speak at all.
I already gave her the number for Mountain Rescue. Already packed her rental car with any supplies she might need. She’ll be fine—she’s never needed me before, and she won’t start now.
I hover by her open door as she settles in the seat, willing her to ask me to come with her. To see her off safely.
“Well,” Grace says. “Bye, then.”
Yeah. Fuck. I slam the door a little harder than I should, wincing at my own clumsiness, then lean down so she knows I’m not pissed off ather.The car window hums down.
“Take the bends extra slow. If there’s a tree in the road, don’t try anything fancy, just come straight back here. Okay?”
“Okay. And Aiden…”
I frown at the hollow of her throat as she chooses her words. Grace keeps swallowing, like this is hard for her too. And her pulse flutters beneath her jaw, like her heart is racing at a hundred miles an hour.
Is she alright? Is she falling apart too?
“I’m going to reassign your Soulmate file to someone else. No offense.” I blink at her, and it’s like my hearing suddenly sharpens, everything coming back into focus. Sounds are louder; colors are bright.
Grace is stiff in the driver’s seat, her fingers plucking at her smoky skirt. She’s speaking normally, but her eyes are fixed an inch or two above my shoulder, like she can’t look me in the eye when she says this. “I’m not sure I can take it. You know. Emotionally.”
Brown eyes dart to mine, then away, but not before I’ve seen the way they’re brimming with pain. Her mouth curves up on one side, and her joke sounds hollow. “I promise it’s not about my perfect record. I’m just a giant baby.”
Fuck. This.
Grace squeaks as I yank her door open, reaching past her to unclip her seat belt. “What are you—”
It’s so easy to lift her out of the car, even in her pencil skirt. She’s so light, the wind could snatch her from my arms.
I tighten my hold on her. Not likely.
“What are you talking about?” I demand, setting her down and taking her shoulders. Grace glares up at me like I’ve lost my mind, but she’s gripping onto my elbows just as hard. “You don’t want me signed up for another match? Is that what you’re saying?”
Her eyes narrow, and I swear, if a lightning bolt struck me down in this second, I’d blame it on Grace. She’s a pint-sized package of wrath.“Of course I don’t. What’s the matter with you, Aiden?”
Withme? “You’re the one who said that shit about my Soulmate profile! I could still taste you on my lips, Grace. You’d saturated my fucking beard. I don’t want to stay signed up, and I already told you that. You’re the one who’s desperate to match me with another goddamn woman.”
I break off, chest heaving. Jesus Christ, I could tear a tree out by the roots. I could sprint up to the mountain summit, fueled by frustration alone.
How can she think that? How can she possibly think I want someone else? It couldn’t be more obvious if I painted it on my forehead: I wanther.Grace. And if I can’t have her, I don’t want anyone.
