The Good Mum. Cathryn Parry
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table of boys he’d been sitting with.
“Let’s talk out in the hall,” he said, smiling broadly for the audience across the room.
“Yes. Good idea.” She nodded and then turned on her heel.
He didn’t follow her, though. He was damned if he’d let himself be given the questioning schoolmarm treatment. He could have easily outpaced her—his legs being longer—but he kept his strides even with hers.
Once in the hallway, she didn’t stop. She marched straight into the closest office.
He followed her, raising a brow as he caught up to her. “Should we be doing this?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m not risking being overheard.”
Ouch. She was tougher than she’d seemed.
She shut the door behind him and crossed her arms.
The room wasn’t all that big. It was a very tight, very enclosed space.
“What are you doing with my child?” she asked.
He sobered. “I swear I didn’t set out this morning intending to meet your son.”
“Are you following me?”
“My grandmother follows you.”
She gave him a look of horror. “Vivian Sharpe follows me? What are you saying?”
What was he saying? He’d just insinuated that his grandmother was a stalker.
“No, sorry, I just...” He shook his head and leaned against the edge of the desk. He was losing it. His pulse was elevated. His breathing shallow.
Aidan closed his eyes. Practiced slow, deep breathing to regain his equilibrium.
What had made him think he could do this—help another person? He’d just come back from a war zone. His nerves were shot as it was. He’d been neglecting dealing with that part of himself.
And his grandmother had been worried about Ashley being an alcoholic? What a laugh.
“Aidan?”
He opened his eyes and focused on her. She was the only one who’d been able to calm him lately. It really was great not to be called Dr. Lowe. Not to have to be so professional all the time.
“You’ll be okay,” he said lightly to Ashley. “Don’t worry about my grandmother. She loves your son and sits in the background, doing what she can for him. You’ll never really be in trouble with her watching over you like she does.”
“Oh, my God!” she exclaimed. “It sounds like she’s a spider!”
He couldn’t help it; he laughed out loud.
But Ashley was horrified. By him, by his grandmother. And maybe she was right to be horrified—maybe he should be more so himself. His whole life, he’d been surrounded by people who ran the show for him. Spiders, creating a web around him. This wasn’t what he wanted. In fact, right now he just wanted his freedom. Wanted to be outdoors, with a wide blue sky overhead and an endless possibility of paths before him.
“You’re right,” he said. “I made a mistake in offering to tutor your son. I only did it because my grandmother sits on the board of directors here, and she mentioned him. But I won’t be getting swept up in helping anyone again. And I won’t be having anything to do with the Captains, with baseball, with charities, with hip replacement surgeries. And I won’t be going overseas and doing good with war-torn children. I’m done, Ashley. Although, honestly, anytime you want to give me a haircut, I am so there. Just call me, and that I’ll be there for.”
“Oh, my God...” She put her hands to her cheeks. She seemed to be in as much shock as he was.
He was surely going crazy. The pressure had all caught up to him and he was coming apart in the most inappropriate way.
* * *
“VIVIAN SHARPE,” ASHLEY WHISPERED, dying at the realization. “Vivian Sharpe is keeping tabs on my son.” That’s what Brandon had been referring to earlier. How could she have missed it? “And she sits on the board at St. Bartholomew’s School?” She’d probably even gotten Brandon his scholarship.
While she stood in stunned silence, taking it all in, Aidan gave her a tired look. It was that same tired, dazed look he’d had in the salon yesterday. And she understood. He’d been through a clinic bombing. His girlfriend—or maybe fiancée—had died in his arms. That was what he was dealing with.
She rubbed her brow. It was so hot in this tiny, tight space. And Aidan, with that dazed look in his brown eyes, he was gazing at her like...like he was mesmerized by her. Like no man looked at her anymore, not since she’d become Brandon’s mom.
Brandon. He’d failed his math pre-test and he needed a tutor. He needed her help. And she needed to focus—not on her worries and suspicions about Vivian Sharpe and certainly not on her physical attraction to this complicated man, Vivian’s grandson.
She backed up. “Aidan...Dr. Lowe...please. Please, you need to tell Dr. Pingree that the school should find another tutor, someone appropriately qualified to work with middle school children on their mathematics studies. I’m not comfortable with your grandmother being involved in my son’s schooling. It’s hard enough that he’s so involved with the Captains. I didn’t realize that she was on the board of directors here, too. Will you do that, please? That way I can tell Brandon that we’ll find someone else.”
“Aidan,” he said.
“What?” she asked. He kept confusing her. He was looking at her straight in her eyes.
“Aidan. Call me Aidan.”
“Fine. Aidan. But did you even hear what I said?”
“Don’t worry—I’m not going to interfere with your kid again. I promise.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Then...why did you talk with him this morning?” she couldn’t help asking.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Curiosity? I’m sorry. It was a mistake.” He shook his head again. “I need to clear my things out of Boston and get on with my life.”
She digested what he said. He was still new to being home. Still reentering his old life again, but that old life was gone.
Just like hers.
“Good luck to you,” she murmured. She wished that she could say she thought he would be okay, too, but she wasn’t sure of that.
He glanced away, very briefly.
“Aidan, I really am sorry about what happened to your girlfriend,” she said softly.
He said nothing.
“Well, we should go...”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. She squirmed. It was so hot in this tiny school office that smelled of books and wood and leather from the big tan-colored chair behind the desk she was leaning against.
“Ashley...”
“Hmm?”
“Elizabeth would be a good person to help him,” Aidan said.
“Elizabeth?” she asked, confused again. Aidan was still staring at her lips with that dazed look in his eyes.
“Yes, Dr. LaValley. She’s tough. She can help Brandon settle down and study.”
Oh, Aidan was speaking of Lisbeth. And Brandon. Of course, her son was the whole point of their conversation.
She licked her lips. But that made it worse, because Aidan sighed as she did so.
She fanned her face with her hand. It was so hot inside, and she was just off balance, and she shouldn’t be looking at his body, so close to hers...
“Um, what did Brandon say when you talked with him just