Page 5

“I wish we had more rooms,” Ms. Graham was saying, her voice tight with worry. “But the only one we have left is a single occupancy and the person is already on their way over to move in. But don’t fret. We’ll do everything we can to make space for you.” When Ms. Graham turned and saw him, her eyes widened. He could see the sadness in her gaze, and he knew what he had to do.

“Give it to them,” he said quietly as he stepped fully into the room.

“But—”

“It’s just me,” he cut in gently as the other woman tried to protest. “You guys need it more. I have couches I can crash on, so I’ll be fine.”

Ms. Graham’s gaze softened. She walked over to Aiden and patted his arm. “You’re a good man, Aiden.”

He shrugged, forcing a small grin to his lips to lighten the mood. He was disappointed, but he didn’t want someone who had a kid to look after to feel any worse than she probably already did. “Just trying to do right when I can.”

The woman gave him a grateful smile and whispered to her son to say thank-you. The boy blinked up at her before looking at Aiden and nodding.

“Thank you, mister.”

Aiden chuckled at being called mister when he hadn’t even hit thirty yet, but he leaned down and nodded back at the boy. “You’re welcome, kiddo. Make sure to take care of your mama and help her out when she needs it. Okay?” He held his fist out and was rewarded when the boy stepped forward to bump it with his own.

When Aiden straightened, he felt a little less down about his split-second decision. Ms. Graham squeezed his arm softly to get his attention. When he looked over at her, her gaze was full of the type of warmth he had slowly become accustomed to since moving to Peach Blossom. It was the type of gaze that had him pushing away all his doubt.

“Let me pack you up a dinner plate for tonight,” Ms. Graham said. When Aiden tried to protest, she shushed him. “No isn’t an option tonight, young man. You are getting a full belly, now bring your behind into the kitchen.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aiden said as he ducked his head with a smile. Truthfully, he had no desire to fight against anything she had cooked up. Besides Thomas’s diner, the bed-and-breakfast had some of the best food in town.

That night, he returned to the garage with a full belly thanks to Ms. Graham convincing him to stay and eat dinner with them instead of taking it to-go. He’d sat with the boy, learning all about him and his love of drawing, and when Aiden had finally left, he was also full of a warmth that lasted into the morning even when he woke up mid-shiver.

“Probably should have bought a thicker blanket,” he muttered. The cot creaked when he rolled over and he grunted against the chill that his thin blanket did little to block. When his gaze fell on the drawing the boy had given him last night, he couldn’t help but smile. He had vowed to push his housing search farther, even if it meant driving longer to get to town.

Aiden stared up at the ceiling. The smell of oil, rubber, and grease lingered in the air of the shop. Ever since he’d hit the later years in high school and started spending most of his time at his uncle’s farm, he’d gotten used to dealing with strong smells that would put most off. But it was different sleeping here. He hadn’t planned to still be staying in the shop at this point. He had told himself this was only temporary, but the few other apartment complexes he’d reached out to hadn’t had any vacancies. At this point, there were only a few options left before his commute turned into a day trip. The shop wasn’t comfortable, but he could get by. He’d always gotten by. It was what he had always done for as long as he could remember.

The slam of the door startled Aiden out of his thoughts and he sat up just in time to see Vini storm in, a set of keys jangling in her hand.

“Aiden Theodore Flowers. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Oh, hell. She’d just invoked the government. “Vini? What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here?” she asked, voice gone higher than he ever remembered hearing. Her eyes flashed with anger as she glared down at him, somehow seeming six feet tall. “Did you forget I own this place?”

“No,” he said, quickly holding up his hands. “But the middle name? Really? I didn’t even know you knew my middle name.”

“Of course, I know your middle name, fool. I’m the one who does your paperwo— You know what? No. Don’t you dare try to distract me right now.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Why did I have to find out from Thomas that you’ve been coming into his diner every day this week and getting meals because you don’t have a place to stay?”

Aiden cursed internally. He had accidentally let it slip to Thomas the last time he was in that he was staying at the shop overnight. He’d tried to cover it up and make it seem like he was only staying one night to catch up on work, but apparently he hadn’t done a good enough job.

“I do have a place to stay,” he said, trying to use humor to defuse the situation. He gestured down at the cot and smiled wide, but even maximum dimples wasn’t enough to soothe Vini’s anger.

“Are you trying to joke right now? Seriously?”

With a sigh, Aiden rubbed a hand over his face as his smile fell away. “Vini, it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Her voice went higher than he thought was possible. “You could have just stayed at the house with us, but no. You let us offer Ava’s old room to someone else instead of just telling us you needed help. What the hell is wrong with you?”

He sat there, shoulders tense as he stared up at her. Shame burned through him at not having things handled before word got out. He hated this part. Making people worry. “It wasn’t my place to take, Vin. They needed it more and the cot is perfectly fine for now.”

“The shop is not a home,” she snapped, voice sharp and laced with concern. “There’s no shower here and the microwave is not a replacement for an actual stove. You’ve been brushing your teeth in the damn sink, haven’t you?”

Aiden didn’t answer that question. He didn’t need to. The answer was obvious. When he stayed silent, Vini sighed and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. “You can’t keep doing this, Aiden. Why didn’t you just tell me you were staying here?”

Because I didn’t want to make you worry like you are now. He couldn’t say that, even though it was the truth. He didn’t like asking for help; not as a teen who’d struggled to get through a school day and not even now as a grown man. Growing up, asking for help had always been dangerous. It meant owing someone and opening yourself up to disappointment. He’d learned early on to handle things himself, no matter how tough it got.