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On the inside of the sleek black luxury sedan, I was toasty warm. The gently-blowing vents and heated leather seats had seen to that, so soft and comforting I could’ve just as easily closed my eyes and drifted off.
“Were you born here?”
The scenery was beyond incredible. Down below at the base of the cliffs, the trees exploded in spectacular yellows and oranges I hadn’t ever remembered seeing before.
“Not even remotely close to here, no,” I replied.
Aiden’s strong, calloused hand guided the vehicle through the series of gently rolling turns as we continued along. I got the feeling we could’ve just as easily been sitting in the back seat, with a driver making those movements. But he liked to drive. I could see the contentment of relaxation in his handsome face, as well as in his body language.
“I was born and raised in Holly Hill,” I told him finally. “Down in Florida.”
“Ah, right on the coast,” he said, matter-of-factly. “So you were a beach girl, then?”
A flood of memories surged in, as something coalesced and solidified in the very pit my stomach. It was an old feeling. A familiar feeling.
Still staring out the window I shook my head and pushed it down.
“No,” I said gently. “No I wasn’t.”
I expected a dozen or more questions about Florida to come next, but thankfully they didn’t. Instead, he let me enjoy the ride. I’d been holed up in my Brooklyn apartment way too long, staring at red brick buildings and tire-streaked, asphalt streets. I needed this change of pace. It was one of the main reasons I’d even considered the surrogacy program again.
Or rather,reconsideredit.
“Sorry if I’m a little quiet,” I told him, turning back his way. “It’s just—”
“Never be sorry for being quiet,” Aiden smiled, reaching out to pat my hand. “Most people talk way too much. I’m guilty of that myself for sure, as Connor is constantly reminding me.”
“Connor,” I repeated. “The third guy in your friend group.”
“Yes.”
“The Scottish one, you said.”
“Jesus, no!” Aiden gasped. I could see the alarm in his eyes as he took his attention from the road. “He’sIrish, not Scottish. Holy hell, if he heard you call him—”
“Okay, okay,” I laughed. “He’s Irish. I got it.”
“From Ireland,” Aiden re-iterated. “The Emerald Isle. Not Scotland.Ireland.”
“Alright already,” I chuckled, rolling my eyes dramatically. “What’s his deal? Is he wound up tight or something?”
“Just the opposite,” he replied. “Connor’s looser than all of us. He came over as a teenager, and roomed with us while we were still in college. He threw in with us when we were first putting the company together. The three of us haven’t looked back.”
“Ah,” I said, finally putting two and two together. “TriadRealty.”
“There you go.”
It was a straight shot once we got off the Palisades, along 87 and down through Orangetown, Spring Valley, and then Ramapo. Upstate New York was even more beautiful than I’d remembered it the first time I’d come up here. Back then, I’d been driving just for the sake of driving, though. I’d had other things on my mind.
“Sorry to ask so many questions yesterday,” Aiden said hesitantly, “but I have one more. And I’m afraid this one’s a bit more personal.”
“More personal than renting out my uterus?” I smirked.
He laughed his way through the next turn. “Touché.”
Damn, even his laugh is attractive!I thought to myself.And that smile…
“No biggie,” I replied at last. “Go on. Ask away.”
