14. Aiden

CHAPTER 14

Aiden

The Kincaid family was warm and welcoming, filling the silences with an ease that spoke of years of shared memories. Paige, Levi’s teenage sister, was full of sharp wit and energy, tossing out quips and playful jabs like a seasoned comic. “Don’t let them fool you, Aiden,” she said at one point. “This place is one step away from a Hallmark movie set. If a snowstorm hits, you’re gonna have to chop wood and fall in love.”

Her grin was contagious, and I found myself laughing. “Good to know. I’ll keep an axe handy.”

Brandon and Cody alternated between teasing Levi and sharing stories about the trouble they used to get into as kids.

“Remember the time we dared Levi to climb the old jacaranda tree in your backyard?” Cody said, nudging Brandon with his elbow. “You got stuck halfway up and wouldn’t admit it.”

Levi shot him a dry look. “I wasn’t stuck. I was strategizing my next move.”

Brandon snorted. “Yeah, your ‘strategy’ was yelling for Aunt Carol to get a ladder.”

Carol laughed, shaking her head. “I nearly had a heart attack that day. I don’t think I ever trusted you three to be outside unsupervised after that.”

Brandon grinned and leaned forward. “What about the skateboard ramp incident?”

Levi groaned. “Oh, come on.”

Cody smirked. “You mean the time Levi decided to ‘upgrade’ our ramp with that old sheet of plywood he found?”

“It worked,” Levi muttered, crossing his arms.

“Until we launched into the neighbor’s yard,” Brandon added, grinning. “I swear, I thought Mrs. Ramirez was going to chase us with her broom.”

A chuckle rippled through the room, and even Levi cracked a small smile.

“You were always the ringleader,” Cody said, shaking his head. “Couldn’t just play it safe, could you?”

Levi shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Where’s the fun in safe?”

Brandon and Cody were relentless, their banter flowing like they’d been perfecting it for years. They bounced off each other effortlessly, spinning stories of childhood antics that painted Levi in a completely different light. Apparently, the unflappable man I’d gotten used to seeing was once a kid who’d fallen into a neighbor’s koi pond. Twice.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face when poor Mr. Ramirez came running out, yelling about his prize fish,” Brandon said, barely able to finish the sentence through his laughter.

Cody jumped in, smirking. “Levi tried to act like he was saving them. ‘I thought one of them needed CPR,’ he said. Meanwhile, we’re all dying laughing.”

Levi rolled his eyes but didn’t bother defending himself, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You two weren’t exactly innocent bystanders,” he said. “I recall someone tossing in a rock ‘to make a bigger splash.’”

“Allegedly,” Cody shot back, grinning.

I found myself smiling without realizing it. It was easy to see how much history they shared—every jab, every laugh spoke of years of knowing each other inside and out. And in the middle of it all was Levi.

It was strange, seeing him like this, his guard down in a way I hadn’t witnessed before. Around his family, he wasn’t just the capable, quietly commanding man who made me feel unsteady in my own skin. He was a son, a brother, a cousin—someone they teased mercilessly and admired in equal measure.

But even now, with the focus on him, Levi remained effortlessly magnetic. The way his smile lingered just a second too long, the way his deep, rumbling laugh seemed to wrap around the room—it was impossible to look away. And trust me, I’d tried.

I caught myself staring at the way his flannel sleeves were rolled up just enough to show his forearms, strong and dusted with dark hair. When he leaned back in his chair, stretching slightly, the fabric pulled across his chest, and I had to look down at my plate to keep from openly gawking.

The worst part—or maybe the best—was that he noticed.

Every time I let my gaze linger too long, his would flick to mine like he could feel it. And when our eyes met, even for a fleeting moment, it felt like the room tilted slightly off its axis. My chest tightened, heat prickling up my neck, but I couldn’t look away. Neither could he.

It wasn’t overt—no one else seemed to catch on—but it was there. A current running beneath the surface of the easy laughter and family stories.

I wondered if he felt it too, that magnetic pull, the way his presence seemed to rearrange the air around him, making it harder to breathe. Or maybe that was just me, completely out of my depth and desperate to act normal.

“Levi’s always been the overachiever,” Brandon said, drawing my attention back to the conversation. “He’s the one who keeps us all in line, even when we don’t deserve it.”

“And don’t forget his stubbornness,” Cody added with a laugh. “He gets that from Aunt Carol.”

Levi shook his head, his smile growing. “Yeah, okay. Keep it coming, guys.”

But when his gaze flicked to mine again, something softened in his expression. The teasing mask slipped, just for a second, replaced by something I couldn’t quite name but felt in the pit of my stomach.

I knew I should have looked away, broken whatever was happening between us before someone noticed. But I didn’t. Couldn’t.

“Putting all jokes aside,” Cody said, pulling me out the Levi-induced trance I found myself in, “from what I’ve seen so far, Levi’s been doing a fantastic job at the farm.”

Levi shrugged off the praise. “It’s a team effort.”

“Sure it is,” Paige teased, rolling her eyes. “But who’s the one who wakes up at 4 a.m. to get a jump on work before the customers arrive and stays out there in the freezing cold? Don’t be modest, Levi.”

“He’s all about sustainability,” Carol added, pride evident in her voice.

Levi shifted in his seat. “There’s room enough here for you two,” he said, his gaze flicking between Brandon and Cody. “I’ve told you that for years. You know you’re always welcome to come on board.”

Cody shrugged, glancing at Brandon. “You know how it is. Timing hasn’t been right.”

Brandon nodded, offering a wry smile. “And let’s be honest, we don’t exactly have Levi’s work ethic.”

“Yet,” Paige interjected with a grin. “You should see him during harvest season—he’s like a machine. Wakes everyone up at the crack of dawn to ‘build character.’”

Levi gave a nonchalant shrug, his lips curving into a faint smile. “The offer stands. Always will.”

The conversation continued to flow easily. They told me about their grandparents—how their grandmother had passed away last spring and how their grandfather was now living at the elder care facility in town.

“That’s where my brother Nicholas works,” I said, surprising myself by joining in. “He’s a nurse there.”

“No kidding!” Carol said, her eyes lighting up. “We’ve heard wonderful things about him.”

“Grandpa always talks about how kind he is,” Paige said, joining in.

I smiled, feeling a pang of pride in my chest. “Yeah, Nicholas is one of the best.”

Paige leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. “So, what about you, Aiden? What’s your story?”

Her question was gentle, curiosity tinged with kindness, not intrusive. I hesitated, swirling my fork through the last bit of mashed potatoes on my plate, unsure how to answer. “Not much to tell, really. It’s just me and my brother now. He’s my only family. I left for college four years ago; I guess that’s a little before you guys moved here, and now I’m back.”

The table fell quiet for a moment, the kind of silence that wasn’t uncomfortable but held an undercurrent of understanding. Carol, sitting to my right, reached over and gave my hand a quick squeeze, her warmth cutting through the sudden lump in my throat.

“Well, you’re always welcome here,” she said firmly, her voice full of sincerity. “Family or not, we’re happy to have you.”

The kindness in her words made my chest tighten, and I felt the weight of something heavy stir in my chest. I forced a smile.

The conversation shifted quickly, Paige’s voice cutting through the tension. “You know Levi used to hate Christmas trees, right?” she said, grinning widely.

“Paige,” Levi warned, his tone low and teasing.

“True story,” Brandon added, laughter dancing in his voice. “He said they were too much work and too messy.”

“Still true,” Levi muttered, though his lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

The table erupted into laughter again, and for a moment, I found myself settling back into the warmth of the conversation. Dessert was served—warm apple pie with scoops of vanilla ice cream—and I felt a wave of unexpected contentment wash over me. The room buzzed with the kind of easy laughter I’d only had for a dozen years growing up, the kind that felt both foreign and achingly familiar at once.

And then, just as quickly, the feeling slipped away.

It wasn’t anything anyone said. Just the sight of them—the Kincaids—so easy with each other, so effortlessly connected, that it hit me like a wave. The tightness in my chest came again, sharper this time, and I couldn’t stop it from rising. Grief. Envy. Loneliness. It all tangled together, a knot of emotions too thick to ignore.

I tried to breathe through it, swallowing hard, but the ache was too raw to hide.

“I think I should call it a night,” I said, my voice coming out a little too strained. I stood abruptly, pushing my chair back, my hands finding the edge of the table for a brief moment as I tried to steady myself. “I’m not feeling great all of a sudden.”

Carol’s expression immediately shifted to concern. “Oh no, Aiden. Are you sure? Maybe some tea?—”

“No, really. I’ll be fine,” I cut in quickly, not wanting to draw attention to the mess of emotions inside me. “Thank you so much for dinner. It was wonderful.”

I avoided Levi’s eyes as I made my excuses, grabbing my coat and hurrying out the door. By the time I closed it behind me, the tightness in my chest had turned into full-blown misery.

It took me a couple of minutes to reach the chalet. Echoes of the evening’s laughter from the main house drifted out through the night air, and it only made the ache worse. I sank onto the couch in the chalet, burying my face in my hands.

What was wrong with me? They’d been nothing but kind and welcoming, and yet I couldn’t make it through one dinner without falling apart.

The worst part was, I knew exactly what the problem was.

They were everything I’d once had and then lost.

And no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, it hurt like hell.