Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 27

Aiden's POV

I stood in the doorway, watching my grandmother and Aria laughing together over my teenage humiliation. The sound of their combined laughter should have irritated me, yet something about it felt... right.

I'd rushed back from the office earlier than planned, consumed by visions of Aria accidentally revealing our arrangement to my grandmother. The Carter Industries meeting had been straightforward, but I couldn't focus. All I could think about was what might be happening back at the estate.

When I arrived, Lucas informed me that Aria and my grandmother had been inseparable for hours. Rather than interrupt, I decided to observe from a distance. Through the partially open door, I watched as my grandmother showed Aria my childhood photos, telling stories I'd hoped were long forgotten.

What surprised me wasn't Grandma's openness—she'd always been sentimental about those albums—but Aria's genuine interest. She wasn't putting on a show; her reactions were unguarded, her questions thoughtful. And when Grandma revealed the truth about my parents' accident, the compassion in Aria's eyes was unmistakable.

I almost stepped in then, uncomfortable with the intimate direction their conversation had taken. But I held back, curious about what Aria might say about me when she thought I wasn't listening.

Instead of the cold calculation I half-expected, I witnessed something entirely different. This woman—who by all rights should resent being tied to me in our loveless arrangement—spoke of me with a gentleness I didn't deserve.

Until, of course, they discovered that damn green hair photo and dissolved into uncontrollable laughter.

"Is it really that funny?" I finally announced my presence, unable to maintain my silence as they escalated from gentle teasing to outright mockery.

Aria whirled around, laughter dying instantly on her lips. "I—"

"Aiden!" My grandmother's face lit up. "We were just admiring your adventurous phase. Come join us."

"I see you've been entertaining my wife with my most embarrassing moments," I said dryly, approaching them.

"Don't be cross, darling," Aria recovered quickly, slipping back into her role with impressive ease. "Everyone has awkward teenage photos."

"Not everyone's are quite so... vibrant," I commented, glancing at the offending image.

Aria smiled, still amused. "Don't worry—this photo doesn't change the way I see you.And for the record, he still looks very handsome. Even with the green hair."

I arched a brow, but couldn't stop the slight tug at the corner of my mouth.

I knew she was playing to the audience. Still... I liked the sound of that.

My grandmother watched our exchange with evident satisfaction. "Aria has been telling me about how you two met. Quite the romantic pursuit, Aiden. I never would have guessed you had it in you."

I kept my expression neutral while my mind raced. What tale had Aria spun?

"Edward will be serving dinner shortly," my grandmother continued. "Aiden, why don't you freshen up? Aria and I will finish looking at these photos."

"I think she's seen enough of my adolescent disasters for one day," I said firmly, closing the album.

My grandmother's eyes twinkled. "But we haven't even gotten to your brief attempt at growing a mustache when you were seventeen."

Aria's eyes widened with delight. "Oh, I definitely need to see that."

"Another time," I insisted, shooting my grandmother a warning look that she cheerfully ignored.

Dinner was a surprisingly pleasant affair. Aria charmed my grandmother with intelligent conversation and thoughtful questions about the estate's history. I found myself watching her more than participating, struck by how naturally she slid into this role, as if we truly were what we pretended to be.

After dessert, my grandmother placed her napkin beside her plate and announced, "Now tell me, will you two be staying the night? It's getting late, and I won't hear of you driving back to the city at this hour."

I glanced at Aria, seeing the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. We hadn't planned for an overnight stay.

"That's not necessary," I began. "We can—"

"Nonsense," she interrupted firmly. "I'm not having you drive back to the city. Besides, it will give me more time with my new granddaughter."

I glanced at Aria, who looked equally surprised but didn't object.

"Edward has already prepared the blue suite," my grandmother added with finality.

The blue suite. My childhood bedroom, converted years ago into an elegant guest room with one defining feature: a single king-sized bed.

I caught Aria's eye across the table. Her cheeks colored slightly as she realized the implication.

Both adults. Yes, technically that was true. But standing in this room with her—my fake wife but very real temptation—I felt anything but composed and adult-like.

"I'll take a shower, if you don't mind," I said, needing some distance to regain my equilibrium.

She nodded, still not quite looking at me, and I retreated to the bathroom.

---

Aria's POV

Left alone, I took deep breaths to calm my racing heart. This wasn't what I'd signed up for. Throughout our fake marriage, we'd maintained separate bedrooms. Physical proximity was limited to public appearances and carefully choreographed moments for show.

This—sharing a bedroom, a bathroom, a bed—felt dangerously intimate.

I sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the shower run and trying not to think about the man under the spray of water. Instead, I focused on my unexpectedly pleasant day with Evelyn. For all my anxiety about meeting her, we'd connected in a way I hadn't anticipated. Her stories about Aiden had revealed a side of him I'd never imagined—a human side, vulnerable and imperfect.

The bathroom door opened, releasing a cloud of steam along with my husband.

I wasn't prepared.

Aiden emerged wearing only pajama bottoms slung low on his hips, toweling his hair dry. Water droplets traced paths down his broad chest and defined abdomen, catching the soft light of the bedside lamps. Every inch of exposed skin was toned muscle wrapped in smooth bronze flesh.

My mouth went dry. I'd known he was fit—his tailored suits hinted at a well-maintained physique—but this was something else entirely. This was the body of a man who worked for his strength, who pushed himself beyond mere appearance.

"You're staring," he said, his voice lower than usual.

I snapped my eyes up to his face, feeling heat rush to my cheeks. "I—sorry, I just..."

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as he draped the towel around his neck. Water droplets still clung to his skin, one trailing slowly down his chest.

"So," he said, mercifully ignoring my embarrassment, "what exactly did you tell my grandmother about our whirlwind romance?"