Waiting for You (3 page)

After blowing out a sigh of frustration, Karise shrugged deeper into
her jacket and set off on her walk. There was no way she was waking
William up now to admit her predicament. She’d figure something out
later. For now, she could only hope cold air worked as well as a cold shower. Well, that and she also kinda hoped she didn’t get mugged in the process of clearing her head.

Bars were emptying out for the night, pouring their patrons onto
the streets and interrupting Karise’s train of thought. She clutched her
sketchpad to her chest, unsure why she brought it but oddly comforted
by its presence nonetheless. She could kick herself for getting into this
mess. Since she at least had her wallet with her, Karise debated getting
a hotel room or hailing a taxi to take her to an all-night diner. Whatever
she did, she couldn’t bring herself to go home just yet. The bright,
cheerful apartment she’d worked so hard to achieve suddenly felt more
like a cage than a home.

A deep voice broke her reverie. “Karise?”

“Aidan.” Karise smiled while inwardly cursing her luck. “What are the odds of running into you here?”

“Maybe it really is a small world.”

“Were you at an after party?” Karise mentally congratulated herself
for her improved conversation skills.

“Nah. Couldn’t sleep.”

Was there something in his expression? Karise dismissed it as
shadows playing tricks and answered, “Me either. Weird dreams made
me homesick.”

She
wasn’t
sure why s
he’d
admitted
that. He nodded in acknowledgement.
A long moment passed before either spoke.

“
Since
we’re both
walking
, do you want to walk in the
same
direction?
”

Karise hesitated. Walking with Aidan greatly reduced her chances
of being pillaged, but it also increased her chances of doing or saying
something stupid. Safety won out and she gave a slight nod of agreement,
falling easily in line beside him as he ambled down the sidewalk.

“I feel like I should apologize for not mentioning William sooner.”

“No worries. You were pretty busy insulting me. And that rock on
your hand did the job for you.”

Karise glanced down at her engagement ring with a certain amount
of embarrassment. It was bigger than what she would have chosen, but William had insisted on the best. “I wasn’t insulting you. Not on purpose anyway. And it’s rude to remind me of it now.”

“Sorry. I have to admit to being curious about the source of your derision for artists.”

“Life experience.”

“Ex-boyfriend? Is that why you wound up with the amadan?

“He’s not an amadan.” Karise scowled. “What’s an amadan?”

Aidan merely grinned in response. Karise let it go, allowing silence
to once again reign for several blocks.

“It wasn’t a boyfriend,” Karise admitted softly. “It was my mother.”

He stopped, turning toward Karise to eye her speculatively for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged, not sure what to say.

“Why does someone who dislikes artists carry a sketchpad?”

“It’s not art.” Karise stopped and looked around, unsure where she
was headed.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” Aidan offered.

“No.” Karise shook her head. “I mean, I locked myself out and can’t
quite bring myself to wake William. I’ve had enough lectures for one evening.”

“Does he lecture you often?” Aidan arched an eyebrow.

“I hadn’t noticed before, but yes, he kind of does.” Admitting as much bothered Karise. Her brow crinkled as she tried to process just how her life had gotten to that point.

“Oh.” Aidan cocked his head, studying her. “Are you planning on walking the streets of Boston all night, then?”

“To be honest, I hadn’t figured that part out yet.”

“I can’t imagine you being anything other than honest.”

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” he nodded. “Do you want to go back to my room with me?”

Karise laughed out loud at that. “I’m not that confused.”

“Ouch. Too honest.”

“Oh no, I mean, that sounds amazing, and if I were a different kind
of girl, I would love to.” She couldn’t help casting an appreciative look
his way. “But I can’t. I’m engaged and I don’t even know you. I’m engaged.”

He held up a hand to stop her before the dam burst and she was in a full-scale babble. “I wasn’t propositioning you, just giving you a place to be while you figured out what was next.”

“Oh,” she chirped. “You weren’t propositioning me?”

He shook his head, making a valiant attempt at not laughing.

“It seems my ability to make an ass of myself knows no bounds.”

“If you weren’t engaged, I probably would have,” he assured her.

“That’s very nice of you to say.” Karise wanted to die.

“Do you want me to get us a cab? I’ve been wandering for a while;
I think it’s a pretty hefty walk back,” he prompted when no answer
was forthcoming.

Despite the logical piece of her brain telling her it was ludicrous
to get into a cab with a stranger, she found herself nodding affirmation.

The ride seemed to take forever with his presence filling the small
space. Karise couldn’t help fidgeting with her hands. They wanted so
badly to touch him. The damn things had a
mind
of
their
own, it seemed.
Both occupants were quiet as each openly studied the other. Karise wondered what was behind those eyes. Her own thoughts were a tumult as she followed him up to his room.

Once inside, he offered Karise a seat and a drink, both of which she
gratefully accepted. As he set about pulling the wine cork, he broke the
silence. “I’m probably going to regret asking this, but why
are
you with
the amadan?”

“You seriously have to stop calling him that, or at least tell me what
it means.” Karise took the glass of wine from his hands and thought about her answer for a moment. “He’s a very nice man.”

“I’m sure he is, but I’ve known you for two seconds and I can tell the
two of you don’t fit.”

Karise opened her mouth to argue before closing it again. There was truth to his words. How had she not seen that before? “Maybe he fits who I was trying to be.”

“That doesn’t sound very fair to either of you.”

“I think that’s enough insight into my love life for now.” Karise
shifted uncomfortably under the weight of this new knowledge. “How
about you? Is there a Mrs… whatever your last name is?”

“Donnelly, and no, not anymore. She left four years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Turns out that wasn’t such a great fit, either.”

Karise’s hand started to reach out, to trace her fingers along his
jaw to draw away the sadness that lingered there. She caught herself in the nick of time and tucked an errant tendril of hair behind her ear instead.

“Enough
of that.” Aidan’s face brightened. “I have to know – what’s
in the sketchbook?”

“Don’t laugh,” Karise commanded as she grudgingly relinquished
her hold on the book. “It’s just silly drawings of houses.”

He flipped through the book, slowing occasionally to linger over a particular page. “I thought you said it wasn’t art. These are beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Karise flushed with pleasure.

He offered the book back to her. “If you can create something like
this, why do you build office buildings you hate instead?”

Their fingers grazed each other as the book exchanged hands.
Karise’s breath caught; their eyes locked. “I guess because somebody
offered me a job building offices. It didn’t seem practical to turn it down
for houses nobody would want.”

“I can’t imagine nobody would want these.”

Karise swallowed.

“Are you always practical?” His eyes held hers captive.

“I try to be.” Her voice sounded small in her own ears.

“Why?”

“Fighting genetics, I guess.”

“Interesting.” This time it was his turn to lift his hand, pause, and
then run his fingers through his hair.

“Why am I telling you all of this?” Karise posed the question to
herself more than to him.

He leaned back in his chair, breaking the spell between them. “I’m
a stranger. It’s safe.”

“I hardly think you’re safe.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

Aidan chuckled, but took pity on her and moved on to the next topic. Maybe it was the wine pouring generously, maybe it was the
passage of time, but the conversation got easier and they moved freely
from topic to topic. She soaked up his every word, every syllable, like
a sponge. She learned the accent was indeed Irish, a remnant from his
childhood. She knew he had two younger sisters and an older brother.
His
parents
were divorced and living on
separate
continents, his
sibling
s
scattered throughout the States.

More telling was the moment when she found herself admitting
to him her mother was Victoria McAlister, the woman whose affair
with an Ecuadorian peasant made the news when it destroyed her
marriage to corporate mogul Dane McAlister. That was a dirty little secret she preferred to keep tucked away. Aidan listened to that part of the tale without comment, although he did reach out to brush her
cheek with his thumb when her voice faltered. That sent a wave of
electricity streaking out from the one contact point, causing her brain to skip to an altogether different train of thought. After stammering for a few sentences, she finally got back to a safer topic.

Aidan was fascinated by her half-siblings. While she couldn’t blame
him – they led incredible l
ives
– she wasn’t thrilled when the conversation
settled on the two people she’d spent most of her life pretending didn’t
exist. She preferred to spend her time on warm, happy memories, like
the ones of her father.

After emptying their second bottle of wine, Aidan settled onto the
couch next to Karise. “Why architecture?” he wondered aloud.

“When I was seventeen, my father gave me a leather-bound journal.
I think he intended it to be a diary or something, but I found myself
filling it up with pictures of my dream house. And then Devon showed
up to build his rose plantation. I remember watching the workers turn blueprints into a breathtaking home and being enthralled by the entire
process. Papa used to tease me that I was just hanging around for the workers, but it really was the house.”

He watched her long enough for her cheeks to heat back up before
he cracked a mischievous grin and teased, “Come on, admit it. It was the construction workers.”

“You really are obnoxious. You know that?”

“I prefer to think of it as charming.”

“Huh.”

“In a devilish sort of way, maybe?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” A smile still played on her
lips as she settled back into the couch. She didn’t intend to fall asleep,
but its haze claimed her before the next thought could formulate itself.
Karise couldn’t be sure if she dreamt. All she was really aware of was
warmth. It wasn’t until sunlight crept through the curtains that her
eyelids fluttered open. She fought through the fog clinging to the
recesses of her mind, trying to make sense of the arms wrapped around
her and the solid chest she was using as a pillow.

Judging from his ragged breath, Aidan was awake and in the midst
of the same struggle for control Karise now found herself in. His hands
were on either side of her face, tilting her head toward his. Karise forgot
to breathe for a heartbeat. She really wanted to lean into him, to soak
up more of all of it, all of him. The weight of the ring on her finger
kept her from acting on that desire, though. Instead, she scrambled up,
apologizing repeatedly as she did.

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in that
position.”

Karise stopped her flustered rush to gather her shoes, looking him
in the eye at last. “It’s okay. I don’t think either of us meant any harm.
It just kind of happened. Right?”

“Right.” His voice lacked assurance.

Karise knew she should put her shoes on and call for a cab. She
should at very least break eye contact. Instead she found herself leaning
in, close enough to feel the heat of his skin. Whether he made the first
move or she did wasn’t clear, but somehow they wound up in each other’s arms. The kiss was hungry, though she couldn’t say if it was
his hunger or her own she sensed. The moment was a decadent assault
on the senses: the crisp, clean scent that was both unidentifiable and distinctly masculine; the pleasant sandpaper of his unshaven jaw; his solid presence encompassing her…she couldn’t get enough. Heaven help her, she might have even tugged his lower lip with her teeth.
Everything in her wanted more – and it was that wave of urgency that
woke her up.