A Lot Like Perfect

She lowered her voice as Serenity glanced in their direction. The last thing she needed was her aunt wandering over to get in the middle of this conversation, especially when it looked like Farmer Moon had gotten up the gumption to speak to her. Aria hoped he’d capture her aunt’s attention for a few minutes. The sweet old widower had been crushing on Serenity since forever but she mostly just blushed and changed the subject whenever anyone pressed her on it.

In fact, Aria and Isaiah shouldn’t be standing in a church where half the town could wander within earshot at any moment. But she’d already flipped out about another rooftop venture where they could talk privately, so what could she do but see this off-the-rails conversation through?

“I’m not scared,” she insisted. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve spent more time coming up with strategies to get him to ask you out than you have actually talking to him. Try that, maybe. You’re a great woman.”

Her heart melted a little. That wasn’t good. She scrambled to hold on to the slippery edges but the stupid organ tumbled through her chest anyway. “You’re a small minority of one who thinks so.”

He scowled. “That’s because you don’t give anyone else a chance to find out.”

“That’s not true.” Dumbfounded, she stared at him as she filtered through his point and arrived at the conclusion that she was the one who didn’t have a clear picture of reality. Because he wasn’t wrong.

She hadn’t come right out and expressed an interest in Tristan. Not to his face. To everyone else, sure. But she’d carefully shied away from anything that smacked of getting to know him on a deeper level. If she really wanted to succeed with him, she could just barge right into his space and demand that he notice her.

She wouldn’t. But not because she was scared.

Having a crush on an unattainable man was safe solely because it would never amount to anything. This bet had screwed up all of that, forcing her into a position that would expose how desperately she didn’t want to be abandoned again. How had Isaiah figured out she’d been avoiding anything that resembled forward progress with his SEAL buddy? No one else had.

No, Tristan didn’t scare her because he didn’t matter. Isaiah did though, in a huge, impactful way. And that was something he could never be allowed to figure out.

“Maybe I will go talk to him,” she announced, crossing her arms over her midsection. It felt like a million angry bees had buzzed down her throat, stinging everything in their path.

“You should. Just be yourself. Tristan’s an idiot for not noticing you thus far. Every man you’ve ever met is.”

Geez. He had to stop saying stuff like that, especially not with that velvety smooth voice that she heard in her dreams. She’d never be able to get that out of her head now.

“You notice me,” she whispered, goodness knew why. She should be backing out of the church at full speed, distancing herself from this craziness.

“Case in point. I’m not an idiot.”

His smile did something simultaneously soothing and enlivening to her whole body. She never wanted it to end. She could stand here listening to Isaiah West talk for the rest of her life and never get tired of hearing what he had to say.

Except that wasn’t in the cards. Of course she’d latched on to the one person who was guaranteed to leave her behind. It was like she couldn’t help but be attracted to someone who was bound to hurt her.

It didn’t matter. She had no business still standing here when Isaiah had merely spouted pretty words that didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t offering to replace Tristan in her heart and she wasn’t accepting even if he was. Cassidy came first.

Besides, Tristan didn’t have a place in her heart. Nor could he. Isaiah had already climbed inside while she wasn’t looking and basically taken up all the room. She had to figure out a way to reverse that. Pronto. By asking Tristan out herself.

Ten

Isaiah spent most of the rest of Sunday in a horrible enough mood that the guys all stayed away from him. Which was both good and bad. The little room he’d taken at Serenity’s hotel was just quirky enough to fit him and it provided much needed sanctuary from both the heat of the day and his own revelations.

He hated the thought of Aria being with Marchande. Where had that come from?

He’d like to say it had been born out of seeing how his friend had acted at the movies yesterday and thinking that Aria deserved better. But Isaiah was afraid he’d started enjoying her company a little too much. When she’d hemmed and ha

wed about another rooftop session, basically rejecting an activity that had ranked high on his list of favorite experiences, it had cut deep.

So she wasn’t feeling anything special between them. Good. It was better that way.

She wanted Marchande. That much was clear, especially with the make-him-jealous routine. As if Marchande had ever been threatened by another man in the whole of his life. It was nearly laughable in a not so funny way that Aria had assumed Tristan would somehow register Isaiah as competition. Fortunately, she’d bought the deflection he’d cooked up on the fly.

It was true that his friend would definitely step aside if he thought Isaiah had his sights set on a woman. But that wasn’t the reason he’d killed that plan.

There was no way he could touch Aria like she’d suggested without something coming unhinged inside him. No way he’d have done it in a church in front of witnesses either. Because if he got Aria into his arms like she seemed to be suggesting, he would have a very difficult time stopping himself from kissing her and he had no interest in testing his will.

Instead he’d fallen into a whole other battle of wills, the kind where he had to push her toward his friend, but he’d done it. She’d take his suggestion to show Tristan her multifaceted personality and that would be that. And Marchande was a good guy. Mostly. Deep down inside, where it counted. He was loyal and had charm to spare. Everyone loved him.