Always With You

by E. H. Lyon

  Sage Creek’s very own resident tycoon, yet to his credit, he is extremely down to earth, which I do admire as money and power don’t really faze me. Maybe that drove him crazy, that I don’t bow at his feet like every other woman in this town does. Instead, we had this friction that thrived on a mutual desire to taunt each other.

  Then that night happened due to that one meeting. I may be a realtor—a damn good one—but that was one house sale that ended up being life changing.

  * * *

  “Look, Leo, I am sorry you’re stuck with me. But I will get the deal done,” I inform an annoyed-looking Leo. Max was supposed to handle the sale of Leo’s mother’s house, but Max had to fly east to see his sister. For the last few weeks, they’ve tried to sell this house.

  Leo is leaning against his silver Range Rover with one hand in his suit pants pocket and the other hand letting his jacket hang by a finger as it is flung behind his back. He has sunglasses on to cover those baby-blue eyes.

  “You better, Jess. This can’t be screwed up.” He is irritated, stressed, and honestly, I get it. Selling his mother’s house was the last piece of closure perhaps. Still, his tone is not appreciated during this already busy week.

  “I am not in the mood for your unpleasantries. But believe it or not, and despite what you tell others when you try to ruin my business, I am a professional. Leo, you always have a knack for putting me in an aggravated mood, but I promise today it won’t interfere professionally. But by all means, if you feel I can’t get the job done then I can tell the buyer to F-off and then you can wait until Max returns, which may not be until next week and the buyer may have found another house by then,” I snark as I cross my arms.

  Leo fixes his posture, lets out a sigh, and looks at his watch.

  This man infuriates me.

  “You are really unbelievable. I am trying to help, and yes, Max is normally the selling agent, but that just means I know the buyer’s mind better. But fine—” I begin to walk away, but Leo grabs my arm so I can’t leave. When I look at his hand on my arm, he lets go before taking his sunglasses off.

  But his touch on my arm was enough to send that bolt of electricity through my body. It has happened a few times before, I just don’t let my sparring partner in front of me know it.

  “You’re right. 5% within asking price. Let me know how it goes,” he says firmly, simply, and his look is somewhat endearing.

  I nod my head in agreement. For once happy that he is quieter than normal. Because this man can talk, persuade, and excite in the span of a sentence.

  I tilt my head at an angle. “Can you trust me?” I ask wholeheartedly and not trying to piss him off. He studies my face and contemplates. For some reason, it matters to me.

  “Yeah. I do trust you.” It sounds soft and honest. I asked if he could trust me and he confirmed that he already does. Interesting. Partly because I trust him too, and it is unexplainable.

  “Okay. Give me twenty minutes with the buying agent and I will get it done,” I declare confidently and walk off into the office for the appointment, somehow feeling his eyes watch my every move. Thankful that he agrees that it is never a good idea to have the seller at the negotiation table.

  Twenty minutes later, I return and slide into the front seat of Leo’s Range Rover. He’s waiting in the driver’s seat, leaning back in his seat and tapping the steering wheel of the parked car with his fingers. I notice a few loose buttons on his shirt. My eyes may have slightly wandered. Oops.

  “It’s done. Full asking. All cash. Here are your preliminary documents signed,” I state, satisfied, and hand him over the yellow envelope.

  A smirk forms on his face. “Full asking, huh? You were feisty in there too?” He looks impressed.

  “Maybe. Or maybe I slept with the selling agent once.” My face remains neutral, but I look at him to see if he flinches.

  A total lie. But too easy to pass up, because playing these games has always been our play. He adjusts his jaw as if he might be affected. Then he curls his lips in together and I can see that knowing look that says he’s amused.

  “Very unethical.”

  “Anything for my client,” I wink at him. “Anyhow, it’s done. So, I can go, and we can both move on with our day.”

  As I begin to get out of his car, his hand grabs my wrist gently and it feels warm and zingy. It prevents me from getting out. I look at him again, but he’s looking forward.

  “Jess, wait… I owe you a drink.” It sounds sincere and he holds up the envelope to indicate the reason why he owes me one. “Maybe tonight? I have a meeting now until six. Eight?” His eyes turn to me.

  Maybe he picks up on my hesitation, because having a drink alone with this man isn’t a good idea.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow for a few months and figured since we don’t have to face each other for a while then what’s the harm? You can finally have your way with me without needing to face me after.” His look is indescribable to many, but I know it too well. This man has the ability to stare and it says calm, dominate, confident, and charming all in one.

  “Enticing,” I deadpan. “Are you propositioning me?” I enquire with a slight hint of intrigue.

  His grin is too smug, and he brings his fingers to my face to move a stray hair of mine behind my ear. A gentle touch with his fingers. Again, sending a surge through me. This man can go from being an asshole to being smooth and appealing in the matter of a second. I’ve witnessed it too many times.

  His eyes are doing a number on me. “Wishful thinking, Ms. Hale. But one drink?”

  * * *

  He asked to meet for drinks.

  I agreed. I thought, what’s the harm? I knew all I had to do was remember that Leo was the man who serial dates, interfered with my work that one time, and drained me with taunts.

  But that night happened, and I ended up with two pink lines.

  Leo nowhere in sight.

  With Leo incommunicado, I did it on my own.

  So, I waited and… waited.

  Shit. The time came.

  Before I can take another gulp of my needed wine that I am neglecting due to my rampant mind, I’m interrupted by the intense knocking on my front door. Knowing who is on the other side of the door, I take a deep breath.

  Here we go.

  Putting my glass down on the counter, I quickly head out of the kitchen to the front door.

  Opening the door to Leo, I see he seems a little riled. But damn it, a good-looking man of shocked emotions. His fitted jeans and dark blue button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone and sleeves slightly rolled up, with his Rolex watch hanging on his wrist. I’m not even sure how he managed to get here on his motorcycle and still end up looking like that.

  "Shhh, you’ll wake him," I shush.

  Leo walks in past me. No point of inviting him in as he is on a clear path for answers. He will do what he wants, and he’s used to getting what his little heart desires.

  "I have a son?" He looks up the stairs and I realize I never told him he had a son, only a baby.

  Nodding yes, I can see a thousand emotions in his head.

  "Maybe we can go to the kitchen, so we don't wake him?" I gently offer the suggestion.

  He doesn't answer and instead speeds it to the kitchen and stands behind the island with both hands firm on the white marble counter. His gaze on me feels like he’s already interrogating me without words.

  I’m a confident woman, but this man twists me in all the spots that drive me crazy. At times infuriating me. At times exciting me. And for the life of me, I can’t figure out what his current stance does to me. Why is my heart racing at a rhythm I’ve never felt?

  Remember your plan.

  It doesn’t matter what my body feels. Our only future is purely parenting together, it’s what I have thought about and it’s what I have rehearsed. There are reasons why we only had one night, after all.

  I look at him as I lean in the doorway to the kitchen.

  "I really need
answers because you’re not getting rid of me," he tells me firmly.

  I step closer to the kitchen island, but with caution as I haven’t seen him like this before and every word or action I do now affects our child—my only priority now.

  Our eyes are locked in a tense gaze.

  "You have a son. His name is Sam.”

  Chapter Three

  Leo

  "Nine months old?" I ask, not breaking our gaze. I am determined to get answers.

  "Yeah, how did you know?"

  Clearly, she forgot my ability to use a freaking calendar.

  "I’m going to take a wild guess and count from that night." It comes off more sarcastic than I want it to.

  "Right. That night." She nibbles her lip, letting her fingers twist the bottom of her shirt as she looks at the floor.

  "Yeah. That night,” it comes out direct, yet even in this situation when all thoughts should be on a baby I have yet to meet, that night flashes briefly in my head. Her pinned against the wall and our mouths finally finding one another after years of games.

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I try to decide where to take this night. “I want to see him.” But before I can grasp what I’m feeling, a cry from the baby monitor brings me back to our current reality.

  She looks up at me with panic.

  I straighten in my stance immediately. "I’m going upstairs," I demand.

  She puts her palms against my chest to stop me.

  "You will meet him. But maybe it’s better if you meet him in the morning?" she pleads.

  I’m about to protest on all counts, but she continues, "It is the middle of the night, Sam just wants a sleepy feed. It’s better if you both meet when you have a clearer mind and he is more awake."

  My look must be blank because I have no fucking clue what a sleepy feed is.

  Her lips tug and she seems to have become psychic. “It’s just a bottle to help him get back to sleep because he probably isn’t that hungry. Just a habit from when I breastfed him.”

  Immediately my eyes pop down to her chest and the oxygen to my dick hit a new airway as the idea of her breasts with milk and feeding my son, it… well, turns me on? Fuck, this shock must be doing something to me.

  She clears her throat and snaps me back into adulthood.

  “Just give me five minutes, okay?”

  We look at one another and it only takes a breath for me to nod gently in agreement. She quickly goes to prepare a bottle and heads upstairs. Meanwhile, I sit at the kitchen counter slightly agitated. Looking around as I tap my fingers on the counter that I have quite fond memories of—it’s a sturdy counter, and not for cooking either. Looking around, I’m trying to adjust to this life-changing evening.

  Listening to the odd noises from the baby monitor of what I can presume is my son drinking a bottle. I head to the fridge and search for photos on the magnets of anything that resembles a baby. I hit the jackpot when I see an ultrasound photo with Jess’s name on it with a date from six months after that night. Wow, that’s Sam in the womb. Looking further, I see a photo of Sam with the Easter bunny and immediately my heart tugs—a bald-looking baby with overalls and matching green shirt. Those eyes and smile a mix of Jess and me. He is ours. Ours.

  I hear Jess slowing her pace as she re-enters the room. Turning around, a spark ignites in me that I can’t seem to control. "Were you ever going to tell me?" And I hope it reflects how unimpressed I am.

  I want to tear into her with a thousand questions, but the immediate look on her face tells me that she is equally a wreck of some proportions.

  "Yes. But you disappeared to play motorcycle diaries somewhere,” she has that mocking tone. “Not exactly reachable,” she snaps and crosses her arms.

  Something tells me she is a little annoyed that I asked the question.

  Irritated, I rub my hands over my face. “I would have come back.”

  “What? So, I just phone you and say, ‘Hey Leo, you knocked me up, please come back?’ I wasn’t going to break that news over the phone, and Max mentioned once your number wasn’t working. E-mail seemed like a bleak option too.” She’s getting mad, aggravated, and that is normally when her sassiness comes to show.

  Which is fine by me as I have enough fuse to make this argument last awhile. I am not backing down.

  “You could have said we needed to talk.”

  “Really?” she asks, slightly raising her voice, and begins to walk towards me, backing me towards the kitchen sink with her hands on her hip. “It was a one-night thing. We both knew it. So, I am sure you would have come back upon hearing my beck n’ call, no questions asked. And you know what? One problem with that scenario. Nobody heard from you. Not Lucas, not Max. Not even the fucking carrier pigeon that I sent!” she exclaims then puts her hands through her hair as she grumbles to herself. It would be entertaining to some.

  She turns to me and raises her voice. “Who in their normal adult mind disappears to the Amazon forest for 18 months?”

  Christ, this woman is going to take me down a notch. I guess for the next 18 years at least.

  “Jess, I wasn’t in the Amazon, and can we discuss my disappearance another time?” It comes out through gritted teeth.

  Because I had good reasons for being away.

  But right now, the realization hits me that I wasn’t here. Something sinks to my stomach and I feel heavy. My fingers rub my temples as I feel like I’m getting a headache.

  Fuck. I did this to myself. I was impossible to reach, I wanted it that way. I take her words in, but I can’t stray off track. I go back to my line of questioning.

  "Who knew?"

  "Nobody. I mean, maybe Abby or Max guessed it, and I’m confident Lucas is smart too, but I never confirmed it with anyone." It comes off quite blankly.

  "Nobody? What, you just magically got pregnant and everyone fell for that?" I’m in disbelief.

  "I said it was a one-night thing and that I would raise the child on my own and I didn't want to discuss the father. Everyone has been supportive," she explains it a little too casually for my tastes.

  This hits a nerve and I back her towards the kitchen island, trapping her between the island and me. My arms on both sides of her on the counter to cage her in. A familiar wave of heat flares up in the air between us.

  "No. You will not raise him on your own." It comes without hesitation and almost a growl as our gaze is locked.

  She is taken aback by my forceful tone. But then heaves a deep breath like she is calming herself. She steps towards me, which only makes my blood run faster.

  "I won't keep you from him. You can be as much or as little involved as you want. I just didn't know when you would be back and wanted to keep it as simple as possible. If you didn’t want to be involved then it wouldn’t have been fair to Sam if I had told everyone who you were to him,” she tells me with her voice shaky.

  It triggers me.

  “Are you serious, Jess? Did you really think I wouldn’t want to be involved?” I bark it out with my hand rubbing my forehead again. Because throughout the last four years of knowing each other and calling each other every name in the book. We know. We know it’s a façade for what we actually think of one another.

  She swallows “No. I didn’t.” It comes out honest.

  She bites her lip before she continues.

  “You needed to be the one to hear it first. And now… you know." She lets her head tilt away from my intense gaze and I begin to feel like an ass.

  I run my hands through my hair and back away from her. Collapsing on the barstool at the kitchen island and letting out a deep exhale.

  "I guess condoms were useless for us?” I sigh with a stunted laugh and pinch the bridge of my nose, still letting all the information sink in. I begin to replay the night in my head. I admit that I have done it more than a few times while I was away. Just never thought about that detail. And for some reason I don’t care as I now have a son.

  “It seems they didn’t add any benefit, no
,” she says one-toned.

  There’s a moment of silence between us.

  But I have an urge to ask. “It was an easy pregnancy?”

  “Yeah, for the most part. Only wanted to eat Pop-Tarts. But the labor was an easy breezy twelve hours of hell. The moment he came out, I forgot about it. I can show you pictures and videos from when he was in my belly and his first months.”

  I feel a soft smile form on my face. “I would like that. And his name, was he named after anyone?”

  “After the beer, of course,” she tells me flatly. I may look concerned, but it quickly fades when she lets a laugh escape her. “That was too easy. My grandfather was Samuel and it’s a strong name.” Relief must fill my face.

  “Can I ask another question?”

  She nods.

  “When you found out you were pregnant, what went through your mind?”

  Jess lets out a sigh and takes a deep breath. “Well, pretty sure I was in denial. Of course, out of all your conquests, it’s me who got lucky.” There is a pinch of humor in her voice to try and lighten the mood, but then she changes her tone.

  “I knew right away that I wanted Sam. I was 28 with a good job and home so it was possible to make it work on my own. I told myself to wait to tell you in person… and here we are.” Jess looks at me neutrally with her eyes not blinking. Yet, she is so honest and open that my body reacts somewhere due to some emotional strings on a violin playing in me.

  “Yeah. Here I am,” it sounds soft as I digest her words.

  “If you were here when I found out… what would you have wanted me to do?” she asks seriously with eyes locking on me.

  Looking at her with the same intensity, I wonder if my opinion would have mattered as she is too damn independent. But it wouldn’t have mattered.

  I step towards her and gently touch her hanging hands. She needs to know. “Exactly what you have done. No doubt in my mind.” It’s true and I hope it reassures her.

  Her eyes lighten to my answer.

  There is silence.

  That same realization hits me again. "I’ve missed so much."