At his prolonged perusal her pulse notched up, and her cheeks went hot. Of course he didn’t see the problem with his staying—it wasn’t his well-being on the line.

“Hey . . .” he said softly. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

But he couldn’t really promise that, could he? And she couldn’t seem to control the part of her that still loved him.

chapter eighteen

Aiden called Ross and told him the bad news. Fortunately, his boss seemed to understand and even offered to accept Aiden’s ESTA on his behalf if he won. After he got off the phone, Aiden sent him the acceptance speech. The last of his regret whooshed away with the email. He was right where he needed to be. Right where he was supposed to be.

Aiden cleaned up the yard, pitching sticks into a pile he’d worry about later. He worked for almost an hour until the backyard was restored to its prehurricane condition.

He still had to do one thing and he wasn’t looking forward to it. He threw the last of the sticks into the pile, pulled out his phone, and placed the call. Might as well get it over with.

Tiffany picked up on the second ring, and after they exchanged greetings she asked, “Hey, shouldn’t you be in the air right now?”

“That’s why I’m calling. I’m afraid there’s been another delay.”

“Oh no. Bless your heart. Was your flight canceled again?”

“No . . . No, that’s not it.” He sank onto the deck step and stared off toward the burgeoning sea. “I think I mentioned an old friend of mine is here at the beach cottage. Her name’s Sophie, and she was the bride’s sister. She took a fall and got hurt this afternoon. I need to stick around for a few days and help her get things sorted out.”

“Her?”

“I should’ve mentioned that. She’s someone I knew back in high school.”

“Someone you dated?” He couldn’t miss the thread of tension in her voice.

“Yes. The fall was my fault, and I feel I have to stay. I hope you understand.”

“Wait, did you say a few days? What about the award ceremony? That’s tomorrow night, Aiden. You can’t miss that.”

He’d asked Tiffany to be his date. “Believe me, I don’t want to. But Ross is going to fill in for me. I know you bought a new dress—I’m sorry about that. I’ll take you someplace nice soon so you can wear it.”

“I don’t care about the dress.” Her voice was tight, and a long moment of silence followed—not the comfortable kind.