Page 56 of A Summer of Stars

Walking. Moving. Those were good distractions. An even better distraction was Aldridge.

When I reached the blonde, I stuck my hand out. “Kieran.”

Her brows rose, but she accepted my hand. “Cecilia.”

“Mind if I take over?” I asked.

“Please,” she begged, walking off to grab a drink.

“Hello, darling,” I greeted Aldridge,prayingshe wouldn’t react in a way that resulted in damage to my internal organs.

Instead, she looked at me as if I were a ghost who had crawled out of the estate’s walls. She stood up straighter with the croquet mallet in her grip, accepting that I was, in fact, not a ghost. Herworst nightmare? A Level One Nuisance tucked in the index of her diary? I would’ve assumed so. But no, her cheeks took on a pink color, something similar to the color of my favorite wine.

I cleared my throat, filling her silence. “Do you mind…” I said, referring to joining her.

She nodded. Reluctantly, I placed my arms around hers and rested my hands on the mallet. I looked down at the ball, refusing to analyze the feeling of her hair against my neck or her back against my chest.

She moved our arms, hitting the ball across the field. The small applause was an alarming reminder that we, and the rest of those involved in the game, were being watched.

I let go and walked beside her toward the ball as others took their turns.

“What’s going on?” I asked, dipping my head as we waited.

“I’m actually really good at playing croquet, but men have this problem where they can’t help but insert themselves,” she explained, refusing to look at me.

“You know what I mean. Something’s off; you hate social events—”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she cut me off. “Now I’d like to get back to my game. Are you on my team or not? Because I’ll wave down someone—” She began to lift her hand. I grabbed her wrist, stopping it from rising any higher. Patience was a thinning concept around her.

“That’s not necessary.” As much as I disliked Aldridge, the unspoken worry between her brows was worse.

Looked like I was playing croquet.

After an hour of the sun chasing sweat across my forehead, yet not affecting her in the slightest, I could truthfully say that she was more competitive than every woman in my family. Which said a lot, because I’d seen two of my tías tear an Uno wild card in half over our coffee table more than once.

Aldridge might be polite and civil to save face, but even a game of croquet couldn’t submerge her need to win.

I watched her jump when she knocked the ball perfectly through the hoop, laugh when I completely missed the ball, and admire the land around us with a melancholic look as we waited for our turn.

“You’re horrible at this, I can’t believe I let you on my team!” she had admitted with a bright smile.

“I never said I was good!” I had argued, actually smiling back.

But I couldn’t tell if what she was saying was true or if it was part of our act.

Later that night, those thoughts only blazed brighter as I waited outside what was supposed to be our shared bedroom. I got dressed in Nari’s room to give Aldridge space so she could get ready.

I knocked on the door, waiting in the dim light of the hallway.

“One moment!” she shouted. It sounded as if she was running across the room, the carpet spreading beneath her feet. I couldn’t help but laugh at the image. Someone who was always so orderly, in a rush.

With the whine of the hinge and shriek of the knob, the door swung open. Based on the noise, I expected to find her with mismatched shoes and disarrayed hair like a child’s doll. But no. Anything but.

“What? What’s wrong?” she asked, looking down at her dress.

She didn’t wait for my response, rushing to the antique mirror in the corner of the large wallpapered room. She adjusted the strapsand toyed with the buttons on the back of her bodice. I averted my eyes. It felt like an intimate moment.

She twisted, facing me, pressing her hands against the material running along her torso. “What about now? Do I look all right?” she asked earnestly.