“She’s not living with me.”
Thank God for that.
“I called Harmony. She’s agreed to meet us at the doctor’s office tomorrow.” Aiden’s face twisted. “She’s going to be around a lot if this doesn’t shake out the way we hope.”
“What about Crickitt’s friend? I thought you two were hitting it off.”
He didn’t miss the flash of guilt on his cousin’s face. “I have to do what’s best for my mom right now, Shane.”
Selflessness. One of Aiden’s finest qualities. Shane spent a lifetime arming himself against that kind of vulnerability, and here Aiden was, putting himself last with hardly a second thought. It was admirable…and frustrating.
“Have you talked to Sadie yet?” Shane asked, wondering, Does Crickitt know?
“Not yet.” Aiden shifted on the bar stool.
After a moment, Shane couldn’t help but mutter, “It’s not good, man.”
“Right, because you have so much experience seeing relationships through,” Aiden snapped.
Shane started to argue but decided against it. What Aiden said was harsh, but it was also the truth.
“Sadie and I just met. Do you think she’s going to stick around while I’m scrambling to help Dad care for Mom? Think she’ll come with me to the waiting room while Mom has chemo? Do you think Sadie wants to be around the drugs, the sickness…the utter depression of watching someone die?” On that final word, Aiden’s voice cracked. He brushed the heels of his hands over his eyes, then polished off his beer.
Shane gave his cousin some space, signaling for the bartender to bring a refill.
Aiden had made a good point. And he’d probably prefer to stop making it. If the news was bad, who could blame Sadie for walking away? And knowing Aunt Kathy, she would take the news of Aiden’s divorce—and the fact that Aiden had lied to her for the last several months—hard. Aiden was right. His mother didn’t need the stress.
Shane opened his mouth to change the subject to how well Angel was doing on the Townsend project, but “Crickitt kissed me” tumbled out instead.
Aiden’s mug hit the bar with a thud. “No shit? When? Why?”
“Last Friday. And what do you mean, why?”
“I thought you had this ‘I don’t have sex with my assistants’ rule you follow.”
“I don’t sound like that.”
“Yeah. You do. You need to loosen up. It’s okay to give yourself a break sometimes.”
Did Crickitt see him that way? Some stiff, stuffed shirt who sat rigidly still while she moved her luscious mouth over his?
“I know you like her. From the second you pushed past me at the club,” Aiden said, stabbing the bar top with one finger, “I knew.”
“Well, it was an accident. I don’t even think she meant to do it,” Shane said, suddenly worried by how true that sounded. “We agreed to keep things professional for the good of our working relationship.”
“For the good of your— Do you hear yourself, man? When was the last time you let yourself have a little fun, anyway? Even when you dated what’s-her-name—”
“Sara,” Shane supplied.
“—you were miserable. Already, Crickitt’s had a positive effect on you. You’ve been acting like the old you instead of Robo-Shane.”
Shane pulled a face, not sure which name to be more offended by. “The old me?”
Aiden gestured around them. “You’re in a bar. On a weekday.”
He had a point. Since Crickitt started working at August Industries, he’d felt more relaxed than he had in years. He’d thought at first it was because of her efficiency, but lately he could see it was something more.
“Well, she’s good for you, whatever she’s doing,” Aiden said.
“We’re not doing anything.”
“Whatever,” Aiden said, his lips quirking.
They sipped their beers in silence for a few minutes before Shane spoke. “I’m sorry.”
Aiden nodded.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.” It was the most useless sentiment ever, but what else could he say?
“Thanks,” Aiden said. He sounded sincere.
Shane found himself wanting to bring up Crickitt again. But hadn’t Aiden just proved there were more important things going on in the world than the flirtation Shane was having with an attractive co-worker? Besides, if they did broach the topic again, what did Shane have to add? What he knew about relationships could fit in the bowl of peanuts resting at his left elbow.