Page 35 of Beneath the Quiet

“What brings you my way on this fine day?”

He frowns at the chipper tone of my voice.

Too much, Maeve. Too. Much.

“You never brought back the thermos I lent you.” His voice is a little stilted. Formal. Gone is the playfulness from moments before, and there’s a blankness to his eyes I haven’t seen before. “It turns out it’s the only one I have, and I need it back, please.”

“Of course.” I dig out the keys from my coat and shake my head, taking the steps back up to the front door. “I’m so sorry, Aidan. I forgot.”

“It’s fine.”

I open the door and punch in the code. “It’s in the kitchen. Come in, please.”

My cheeks heat, this time from mortification that it slipped my mind to return something I borrowed. It’s so unlike me.

Aidan follows close on my heels through the small hallway and the doorway that opens up to the kitchen. My heels click softly on the old brick stone flooring, but the sound is silenced now and again by the woven mats in various places around the square kitchen. I fetch the thermos from its spot on the windowsill overlooking the front of the house. Turning back, my foot gets trapped in one of the carpets, and I stumble. I let out a short shriek, and the thermos slips from my fingers, and when it lands on the floor with the loudest clang I’ve ever heard, Aidan lunges for me, catching me before I end up smacking down into the hard brick floor e.

“Oomph!”

My voice is muffled by the thick dark-blue cable knit he’s wearing because his rescue results in my face firmly planted on his chest, and for a moment, his arms tighten around me instead of releasing me. Somehow, my arms are wrapped around his waist, and I shiver, both from the scare and the sheer longing I feel being held like this.

But then the moment is broken.

“Maeve?”

I pull my hands from around his broad back as if the heat from his body burns me, and it’s not that far from the truth. But he can’t know that.

“I don’t know where my head’s at today. I’m really sorry. I didn’t hurt you, flying into you like that?” I’m babbling, and it’s horrible, but even though I’m fully aware of it, I can’t seem to stop.

He scowls at me as he holds a hand up. “Stop apologising, I’m fine. But are you?”

“Yup, I’m fine. Absolutely.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

He shakes his head and bends down to grab the thermos.

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

A sharp pang of hurt slices through me from his harsh dismissal. Then I square my shoulders, and the hurt turns to indignation. “Don’t talk to me like that,” I huff.

His head snaps up. “Come again?”

“I’m not ridiculous. I’m being fair.” I cross my arms.

He chuffs out a laugh, baffled disbelief written all over his face. “It’s just a thermos, Detective. Not something precious.”

I give him a stiff nod. “Fine.”

Aidan narrows his eyes. “Right, I need to get going.”

“Yes, so do I.”

He scratches the stubble on his chin, drawing my attention to it and the fact that I wish I knew if it’s hard or soft to the touch. I shake my head a little.