Chapter 8

Chapter

Eight

M ary stood on the patio behind the shop, inhaling the chilly evening air as she dialed her father's number.

"Hey, Dad, I can't make dinner tonight," she said, glancing at Aiden, who was inside, curiously inspecting the new clothes she'd bought him.

"What? But I'm grilling steak. It's your favorite," her dad replied, sounding disappointed.

Mary bit her lip, scrambling for an excuse. "I know, but... I've got a lot to catch up on at the shop. Just one of those days, you know?"

"Everything okay?" he asked, his concern evident.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I'll take a rain check," she promised, not quite ready to explain Aiden yet. She just wasn't sure how her dad would react to him—and the fantastical story that came with him. "Thanks, Dad."

After hanging up, Mary exhaled and turned back to the patio. She loved the smell of a charcoal fire, and had decided to cook out after their busy day. They'd unpacked several more boxes containing cozy fleece throws, bookish T-shirts, and embroidered book sleeves.

When she called Mr. Evers, over at the hardware store to tell him she had eight orders for the small wooden sign he'd made her, the one that was hand painted with a cheerful skull and crossbones and the words, Pirate's Cove, Beware of Book Dragons , he'd been delighted and said he'd make them for her along with the dozen others she'd ordered.

They'd also spent a good chunk of the day shopping for clothes for Aiden. Her pirate was quite the clotheshorse, and very particular about what he wore.

As she lit the charcoal, her mind wandered to the clothing store off the island. She'd needed to make a large grocery run and so they'd taken the ferry, much to Aiden's delight.

At the store, he'd tried to pay for the clothing and shoes with one of the gold charms from his hair, as if it were completely normal.

For a split second, she found herself questioning everything—wondering if maybe, just maybe, he was telling the truth about traveling through time. The thought lingered, unsettling yet oddly thrilling.

As she arranged the seasoned chicken on a platter and went out to the patio, she heard the screen door open behind her.

Aiden stepped out, hair still wet from his shower, the gems in his hair and on his fingers glinting in the evening light. At the sight of the round, black charcoal grill, his eyes lit up.

"A small cooking hearth." He moved closer to examine it. "No spit?"

"No. You put the meat on the grate and then turn it over. I thought I'd make chicken satay."

"What is that?" He asked her a hundred questions about the house, the plumbing, electricity, and the grill, to the point that she found herself starting to believe him. There was no way he could have kept up the whole ‘being in character thing' this long, and his mental faculties were fine, which left the only explanation... that he was telling the truth, as fantastical as it might be. And if she believed him...

While the chicken sizzled on the grill, she went upstairs to the kitchen and busied herself with preparing the peanut dipping sauce. She'd just finished mixing the ingredients and had turned around to put the honey away when she sensed a presence behind her. Turning, she caught Aiden red-handed, a spoon in his mouth, a surprised expression on his face.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" she asked, trying to sound stern, but failing miserably as a smile tugged at her lips.

It took him a moment to swallow the peanut butter. She handed him a glass of water, which he downed in three gulps. Aiden grinned roguishly, licking the spoon.

"Merely sampling the wares, lass. 'Tis a captain's prerogative to ensure the quality of his crew's provisions." He made a face at the jar of peanut butter. "What is that stuff?"

"Peanut butter. Trust me, it's delicious in the sauce." She took a clean spoon from the drawer and dipped it into the sauce, offering it to him, watching as his eyes widened.

"Well, Captain, I hope the sauce meets with your approval. Though I must say, sneaking tastes might earn you a punishment of doing the dishes."

"'Twas worth it," Aiden said, leaning in closer. "I like watching ye cook."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, Mary forgot to breathe. The air between them crackled with electricity. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, to break the tension, but words failed her.

A loud crash shattered the moment. Mary jumped, nearly knocking the bowl of sauce off the counter in her haste to see what had happened.

"Inky!" she called out, rushing down the stairs out to the patio, Aiden hot on her heels.

They found the lid of the grill halfway off, the cat under the picnic table, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he gnawed on a piece of chicken, growling when they approached.

"Well," Mary said, trying to catch her breath after running down the stairs, "I guess he really is a pirate at heart. Stealing food and all."

"Ye wee beast," Aiden muttered, though there was amusement in his voice. "Seems you don't have enough mice or rats around here to keep him fed."

"I should hope not." Mary laughed. "And I fed him this morning. He loves that dry cat food." She bent down to look at the cat.

"You're lucky you didn't singe your tail or burn your paws," she scolded. "No more stealing food." Inky simply blinked at her and continued to eat the purloined chicken breast.

"It's good I cooked extra chicken, or we'd be ordering in." She watched the cat as he finished the chicken and started cleaning his paws.

"I'll go grab the sauce and drinks. You stay here and guard the rest of the chicken."

Before he could answer, laughter came from the front of the shop as she froze, recognizing the voices.

"Oh no," she stopped halfway across the patio. "It's my parents."

Aiden straightened up, peering at the side of the shop as if he could see through the building. "Shall I fetch more plates, then?"

"No!" Mary hissed, grabbing his arm. "They can't see you. Not yet. I haven't figured out how to explain... well, you. You're obviously not the missing Scottish instructor as he turned up this morning. They'll drive us crazy, wanting to ask you a million questions and rope you into working at the jamboree. This is so not good."

Before Aiden could protest, Mary shoved him towards a small storage closet against the side of the shop. "Get in there, fast."

With a bewildered look, he allowed himself to be pushed into the cramped space, which was full of chairs, cushions, and other strange items.

"Saints preserve me," he muttered as Mary closed the door. "Are these yer prison cells in this infernal time?"

"Shh!" she whispered, trying not to laugh despite the panic bubbling in her chest. "Be quiet and you can have the rest of the chocolate ice cream after dinner."

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she turned just as her parents came around the corner of the store, plastering on what she hoped was a natural-looking smile.

"Hey," she exclaimed, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "What a surprise!"

Diana and Frank Snow beamed at their daughter, completely oblivious to her internal turmoil.

"We just finished an early dinner and thought we'd stop by," her mom said, enveloping her in a hug. "I hope we're not interrupting anything?"

Mary shook her head, perhaps a bit too vigorously. "No, no, not at all. I was just... grilling chicken for dinner. It should be done soon."

Please let Aiden stay put , she said silently, eyeing the cat who was stalking a leaf in the yard.

"Something smells wonderful," Frank commented, sniffing the air appreciatively. "Are you making your chicken with peanut sauce?"

Grateful for the distraction, she nodded. "I made plenty. How about you both have a seat while I finish up?"

"No, no need to go to the trouble, we're full," her mother said as they sat at the table, chatting away.

As she busied herself with the grill, Mary could feel her mother's eyes on her. Diana had always been perceptive, especially when it came to her daughter's moods.

"You seem a bit flustered, dear," her mom observed. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," she said, voice a touch too high. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Frank chuckled. "Well, you are grilling for two. Expecting company?"

She nearly dropped the tongs. "What? No, I just... made extra. You know, for leftovers for tomorrow."

"And the rest of the week, by the looks of it," her dad said. She could tell by the looks her parents exchanged that they weren't entirely convinced, but mercifully, they let the subject drop.

After she poured wine for her mom and grabbed her dad a beer, Mary guiltily ate her dinner, constantly glancing towards the storage closet, half-expecting Aiden to burst out at any moment. The rest of the chicken was covered with aluminum foil to keep it warm and safe from Inky.

She felt awful for leaving him cooped up in that tiny closet, but the thought of explaining his presence to her parents and their resulting excitement for all things pirate made her stomach churn.

"Have you given any more thought to participating in the jamboree this year? We've been so busy preparing. Your mother and I were thinking it might be fun if you joined us in the reenactment."

She tried and failed to suppress a groan. "Dad, we've been over this. I'm not really into the whole dress-up thing anymore."

"Oh, come on, sweetie," her mom chimed in. "It would be just like old times. Remember how much fun you used to have?"

As her parents reminisced about past jamborees, Mary found her thoughts drifting to Aiden. What would he think of the festival? Would he find it amusing or offensive? The idea of him critiquing the historical accuracy of the reenactments almost made her laugh out loud.

A sudden movement caught her eye, and she turned to see Inky slinking out from under a nearby bush. The cat eyed the table with interest, clearly plotting his next heist.

"Oh no, you don't," she muttered, rising quickly from her seat. "Excuse me for a moment."

She managed to scoop up the cat before he could make a grab for the plate of chicken, but in her haste, she knocked over a glass of water. The liquid spread across the table, threatening to soak her mother's sleeve.

"Oh, honey, be careful!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up to avoid the spill.

In the ensuing chaos of cleaning up the mess and corralling Inky, Mary whirled around at the sound of the storage closet door creaking open. Aiden poked his head out, a quizzical expression on his face as she made a shooing motion, and thankfully, he shut the door.

Panic surged through her. She needed to get rid of her parents before they spotted him. But how?

As if in answer to her silent plea, her father's phone rang. He answered it, his expression growing serious as he listened.

"I'm sorry, honey," he said as he hung up. "That was the committee. There's been a mix-up with the jugglers. I need to head over to sort it out."

Her mom patted her hand. "I suppose I should go with him. You know how he is with details."

As she walked her parents to the door, she tried not to look too relieved, assuring them that yes, she'd think about the reenactment, and no, she didn't mind them dropping by unannounced.

As soon as they were gone, she sagged into the chair, letting out a long breath. "You can come out now," she called out.

Aiden emerged from the closet, wiping cobwebs from his shirt, a bemused expression on his face. "Are ye always so flustered around yer parents, lass?"

Warmth spread across her chest. "No, I just... I wasn't sure how to explain you to them. I mean, what was I supposed to say? ‘Hey Mom and Dad, meet Aiden. He's a time-traveling pirate who washed up on the beach'?"

"Aye, I suppose that might be a bit much for them to swallow. Though I must say, being shoved into a closet was a new experience for me. Usually, I'm the one doing the shoving."

Despite herself, Mary laughed. "I'm sorry about that. I panicked. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Oh?" Aiden's eyebrow quirked up, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Shall we have ice cream? Oh, that's right. I get to eat all of it myself since you locked me away in a tiny closet."

"Enjoy. But try the chicken satay first, otherwise Inky might get into it. I'm too flustered to eat now." Mary's breath caught in her throat. She was suddenly very aware of how close he was standing, of the warmth radiating from his body.

"I, uh... I'm sure you must be starving."

"Aye, lass." If he was disappointed by her deflection, he didn't show it. Instead, he grinned. "I also get the rest of that caramel sauce, since you locked me away like a common criminal."

The tension from earlier melted away, replaced by comfortable companionship. They talked and laughed as he ate, telling her 'twas a most delicious meal and would she show him how to make the sauce? She said she would, though she grimaced when he said he thought it would be delicious on the hot dogs they'd had for lunch.

He regaled her with tales of his adventures on the high seas, while she shared stories of her life on the island and how she'd once dreamed of sailing around the world, stopping wherever she wished to explore.

Once he'd finished the chicken, she went upstairs and dished him the rest of the double chocolate ice cream. She'd saved a few chicken tidbits for the cat who was now dozing on a chair.

"So," Aiden said as he finished the ice cream, the air turning colder out on the patio, "tell me more about the festival. Your da said there's to be sword fighting and battles?"

"Yes, there will be," Mary groaned good-naturedly. "The whole island goes pirate-crazy for about a week. There are reenactments, costume contests, treasure hunts... you name it, we've got it."

"And ye're not fond of it?" Aiden asked, his tone curious rather than judgmental.

She shrugged, trying to find the right words. "It's not that I don't like it. I used to love it as a kid. It's just... I don't know. Sometimes it feels like the whole island is stuck in the past, you know? Like we can't move forward because we're so focused on reliving history."

Expression thoughtful, Aiden was quiet for a moment.

"I can understand that," he said finally.

"But perhaps there's value in remembering the past, even as we look to the future. After all, without the past, we wouldn't be who we are today."

Mary blinked, surprised by the depth of his words. "I... I guess I never thought of it that way."

Later, as they stood on the patio watching the sun dip below the horizon, contentment washed over her.

"Thank ye, lass," Aiden said softly, breaking the silence. "For taking me in to your home."

A smile playing on her lips, she turned to look at him. "At least you're not messy," she teased. "Although I could do without the sword-wielding and the whole ‘yo ho ho' thing."

Aiden laughed, the sound rich and warm. "I'll have ye know, I've never once said ‘yo ho ho' in my life. That's pure fiction, that is."

The evening wound down as they talked, getting to know one another, the sky darkening to a deep indigo studded with stars. As they made their way back inside, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness that the day was ending.

"Well," she said, trying to keep her tone light, "I suppose we should both get some rest. It's been a really long day."

Eyes never leaving her face, he nodded. "Aye, that it has."

As they stood there, neither quite ready to say goodnight, Mary shivered, but whether from the chill in the air or the tension in the air, she couldn't say. Part of her wanted to close the distance between them, to see what would happen if she let her guard down completely.

But another part, the cautious part that had kept her heart safe for so long, held her back. This wasn't just some guy she could date and then move on from if things didn't work out. He was from another time, another world. Getting involved with him could only lead to heartache.

"Goodnight," she said softly, taking a step back. "I'll see you in the morning." At the door, she paused. "Lock the door when you come up? I've made up your bed, and there are towels in the bathroom."

"A good night to you, lass." A mix of understanding and something else, disappointment, perhaps crossed his face?

"I will lock the doors. No harm will befall you while I am here."

With a sigh, she went upstairs to get ready for bed. It was strange sharing her space with another person. In fact, that had been one of the big issues between her and Jake. He'd wanted to stay at her place, basically moving in while he was on the island, and she couldn't picture him rattling around her kitchen and being happy. Jake was all modern, sleek spaces, done in white, black and gray, whereas she loved color and texture and a cozy vibe. And yet Aiden fit in perfectly.

As she brushed her teeth and washed her face, Mary thought about time travel and how it might work. The cold air coming in from the window she'd cracked made her pull the sheets up to her chin. Despite her resolve to keep her distance, she couldn't help but smile, thinking about Aiden and his curiosity.

She wanted to trust him, to believe him, but if she truly did, wouldn't she have told him about the coin and the treasure map she'd found? The fact that she hadn't lingered in the back of her mind.

"This is dangerous," she muttered to herself, turning over to stare at the ceiling. Getting attached to him would only lead to heartbreak. He didn't belong in this time, and sooner or later, they'd have to find a way to send him back.

But as sleep began to claim her, Mary found herself hoping that "sooner or later" would be later rather than sooner.