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“About nothing. The wedding. Whatever.”
James snorted. “No one in this truck believes that. Least of all me.”
“It’s really not a big deal. I know you hate weddings anyway.”
James sighed. “I don’t hate weddings.”
“You should,” Aidan replied. “I would if I were you.”
“Why? My wedding was great. It was everything after that turned into a nightmare. You know,” James said after a beat, “just because you believe you’re not cut out to be a husband and father doesn’t mean it's true. You might surprise yourself.”
Aidan groaned and climbed out of the cab, tugging his earpiece out and dropping it into the drawer of a nearby filing cabinet.
“I’m not doing this with you. We’re not going to trade stories about women and paint each other’s nails.”
“Of course not. That would be impossible. You don’t have any stories. You’ve never spent more than a few hours with a woman, and I imagine you don’t do much talking.”
Aidan snorted. “That’s the way I like it.”
“Clearly. The question is, why?”
“It doesn’t matter why.”
“Sure it does,” James said, following him all the way out to the parking lot and their cars. “You’re about to get married, man. To a real live person who deserves more than to be dumped in some house to raise your kid. The Callahan men don’t get a lot of shit right, but we get this right. We treat our women well.”
“She’s not my woman. She’s my wife. Or she will be.”
James shoved his hands into his jacket pockets against the breeze that kicked up and sent leaves scraping across the pavement. “I fail to see the distinction you’re trying to make.”
“Viv knows what this is. I’ve been very clear about that.” Aidan jerked open his car door. “We’ll both do our duty, Declan will get his blood ties, and I’ll get to go back to the way my life was before. Case closed.”
Without giving James a chance to respond, he slammed into his truck and reversed out of the parking lot so hard he showered gravel behind him. It was his own damn fault he’d lost sight of his original goal. But he wouldn’t let it happen again. He’d satisfy Declan’s demands and be done with it. Period. And if that thought sent a sharp stab of pain through his gut, then it was just nerves and nothing more.
ChapterFifteen
Aidan stared at himself in the long mirror that hung on the back of the door and adjusted the cuffs of his tuxedo shirt. He wondered briefly if the mirror was always here, hung on the back of the door in what looked like a small study, or if it had been put there specifically for today so he could get one last look at himself before his freedom was vacuumed away.
“And then after the prayers, Father Michael will—”
“Evelyn,” Aidan snapped. “I was there at the rehearsal last night too. I haven’t forgotten the steps.”
Truthfully, he hadn’t been paying much attention to the ancient Father Michael last night, but he’d say anything to stop Evie’s incessant nervous chatter. It wasn’t like her to be this unsettled; she was as steady and stoic as Declan most of the time. But right now she was driving him crazier than usual, and he had enough to worry about today.
“Right. Okay. Of course. Do you need anything?”
“A new identity and an untraceable bank account in the Caymans.”
“That’s hilarious,” she said with her hand on the doorknob. “Oh, I talked to Cait this morning.”
Aidan’s head whipped around to stare at his sister-in-law. “You did?”
“She said she’s sorry she can’t make it, but she didn’t want to steal your thunder. And she’ll be back in a couple weeks to congratulate you in person.”
“Yeah,” he breathed. “Okay.”
“I’ll send the guys in,” Evie said before slipping through the door and leaving him alone.
He fingered the cuff links he wore, tracing the C etched into the silver with a fingertip. Another family heirloom that would be a part of the day. These cuff links had been worn at every Callahan wedding back to his great-grandfather. Declan had worn them a few months ago, and Finn a decade before that.
