She went for the door and pulled it open as confidently as possible.
“Aiden!” He stood on the front porch in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that made him look every inch the linebacker he’d been in high school, and suddenly Lucy was desperate to know if he’d seen her through the window. There was a strange light in his blue eyes that made her think he had, but when she opened her mouth to ask him, all that came out was, “How nice of you to visit!”
Yes. She had turned into an old woman. Not only that, she was wearing clothes that had fit a decade ago. With Aiden’s blue eyes fixed on her like that, it all felt a little too short and a little too tight. Maybe she could dig out one of those ruffled curtains from the garbage bags and wear it like a robe.
Aiden held out the petri dish she’d given him yesterday. “I couldn’t believe it,” he said.
Oh, god. What if Aiden’s ranch was the home to a new breed of mite that hadn’t previously been discovered? What if the pesticide didn’t work? She’d been so confident yesterday.
Lucy looked down into the dish.
There was nothing beneath the clear cover but a leaf.
“It worked,” she said, her entire body suffused with relief.
Aiden gave her a look. “Are you surprised?”
She straightened up and lifted her chin. “No. I’m not surprised at all.”
He let out a breath, and his shoulders lowered an inch. “I was. I’m shocked. I’m honestly flabbergasted that there’s anything in the world that can kill these pests.” Still, there were questions in his blue eyes.
Lucy had completely forgotten herself. “Do you want to come in? It’s—I’m in the process of a little cleanup and renovation, but the water’s fine, and—”
“Sure,” Aiden said with a laugh, and he stepped inside. She closed the door behind them and shut out the heat of the day.
He was too tall and broad for the little foyer, and Lucy’s breath caught at how strong he still looked. Still ready to tackle anything, no pun intended. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure.”
She turned and led the way into the kitchen. She’d just crossed the threshold when Aiden snorted. She turned back to him with eyebrows raised.
“What’s funny? Are you picturing the demise of every spider mite in the land?”
“Smartass,” he said.
“Oh, yeah?” Lucy put one hand on her hip. “Well, this smartass is about to save your smart ass, if you know what I’m saying.”
Aiden shook his head, laughing. “I mean your shorts.”
“Oh, god.” Lucy had completely forgotten the “SMART-ASS” across her cheeks at the sight of him on her doorstep. It was her turn to laugh. “I knew I shouldn’t have been wearing these.”
“They’re a real blast from the past.” Aiden looked like he was struggling to get back to respectability.
“You’re telling me.”
Lucy turned around slowly, aware that she’d be putting her SMART-ASS right in Aiden’s line of sight again. To be honest, she didn’t hate the thought of him looking. “Water? Or…I have beer.”
On the way back from Aiden’s ranch, she’d made a grocery stop. All the cleaning wasn’t going to happen unless she had food in the house. The groceries had meant she had to clean the fridge, too, so it was all progress.
Lucy looked at Aiden, who stood in the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “I should say it’s too early for beer.”
“It’s never too early for beer,” Lucy said, surprising herself. “At least, it wasn’t when I was in college.” She pulled two beers from the fridge and tossed one to Aiden. He caught it easily in his big hand.
“You got a minute to talk?” he asked as he opened the beer.
“I’ve got a minute for beer, so, yeah, I can talk.”
Aiden sipped the beer, eyes on her face. “I figured…you know, I should come over and talk details.”
Right. The pesticide. That’s what this was all about, not the giddy feeling of having him in her house after all these years.
“Well,” Lucy said. She had been right—it wasn’t too early for beer. Not by a long shot. “As my test has proven, I really think I can help you. And I think my pesticide is the only thing that can save your ranch.” She shrugged. “Plus, your hops are the perfect testing ground for the large-scale application of the pesticide. Of course, there’s not a hundred percent guarantee that it’ll all go smoothly on a large scale, but I really believe it will.”
Aiden took a bigger swig of beer. “I’ve come to the same conclusion. That it’s the only thing that gives me any shot of saving the ranch.”
Lucy’s heart pounded. She’d been explicit about the terms, and she hadn’t expected Aiden to come around. Not this quickly. Her mind raced with all the possibilities. She could be pregnant by the end of the summer. She could have a baby next fall. And that baby might have Aiden’s eyes, and she knew right then that she would fall madly in love with that child.
She took a deep breath. “I—”
“I know your terms, too.” Aiden’s laughter had disappeared, and now he was utterly serious. “I…feel like there’s more we should discuss about that, but…” He held his free hand palm up. “I don’t know how to have that conversation, Luce. I can talk about the spider mites all day, but—”
“Oh, of course,” she said briskly. “Babies are a totally different story. Obviously. I think the best way to go will be to set up a contract.”
Aiden nodded. “We’d both sign on the dotted line?”
“And go our separate ways.”
He frowned a little at that. “That sounds responsible.”
“And I thought—” Lucy’s own emotions were running wild and free like a band of horses. “I thought we should use a mediator to sketch out the terms. That way it doesn’t get too…emotional. And we can keep it private. Hash out the discussions in the office, away from prying eyes. And ears.”
Aiden’s brow furrowed. “You’re planning to keep this arrangement a total secret?”
“To protect everyone’s privacy,” she said. “It’s not that I’d be…ashamed to have your baby. I definitely wouldn’t. But I thought you’d want a chance to live your life normally, without a lot of interference from everybody. I know how this place can be.”
“Right,” Aiden said. “That’s right.”
But by the look on his face, Lucy wasn’t sure if it was.
Seven
It was simple: all they had to do was stick to the plan.
Or at least it should have been simple.
Lucy had chosen Barry Pollwater to preside over the mediation because he was one of the few people in town who didn’t seem personally invested in everyone else’s business. When she’d called him to ask about his services, he had been so matter-of-fact that she wondered if he simply had that kind of voice—steady bordering on monotone.
The moment she and Aiden had stepped into his office, she’d seen that it wasn’t just the voice. It was his entire personality.
“Those two seats are yours,” he’d said, sitting down across from them at a long meeting table and opening a file. Lucy felt like she was back in high school, sitting down with the principal. Not that she’d ever been called to the principal’s office. She’d been too busy in the science lab to get herself into any real trouble. “And I see here that you’ve drawn up an agreement regarding pesticides and egg fertilization.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” Lucy joked.
Mr. Pollwater looked up at her through his thick glasses and said nothing for a long beat. Aiden shifted in his chair.
She cleared her throat. “Yes. That’s the agreement, and it contains all the terms we want to…agree to.”
Mr. Pollwater folded his hands on top of the open folder. “Is there something in particular you wanted to discuss today? A sticking point.”
“Just the…fine details, I guess.” She stole a glance at Aiden, who was watching Mr. Pollwater with an expre
ssion she couldn’t read. “Mostly…involvement after the baby is born.”
“Let’s start from the beginning.” Barry Pollwater clearly wasn’t going to take any chances. “In your own words, I’d like each of you to tell me what your ideal outcome is in regards to this agreement. Mr. Harper?”
Aiden nodded, leaning forward, and Lucy got the distinct impression that he felt like he was under oath. “My ideal outcome is access to the pesticide I need for my ranch. Now and forever. For free, or as little as Lucy can charge.”
“And Ms. Carr?”
“I’d like Mr. Harper,”—saying it that way tasted strange in her mouth—“to assist in fathering a child for me. I’ll also need data for my ongoing case study involving the pesticide I’ll be supplying.”
Mr. Pollwater scanned the agreement again. “And neither of you have any…moral quandary with trading a baby for a lifetime supply of pesticides?”
“We’re not trading a baby,” Lucy said, unable to stifle an unprofessional little laugh. “The baby won’t…change hands. It’ll be my baby from start to finish. I only need a bit of a boost on the conception end.”
She kept her voice light and even, but when Mr. Pollwater turned back to Aiden, her stomach twisted into knots.
“And you’re in agreement with this…exchange of services?”
“Yes.” Aiden was solemn, never taking his eyes off Mr. Pollwater. “I’m in agreement. I’ll give her whatever data she needs from the ranch. I have no problem with that.”
“Then we need to talk about afterward.” Lucy suddenly felt anxious to get this moving, to get the entire show on the road, before it all fell apart.
“It says here that you’re willing to participate in an open-adoption style contract, Ms. Carr. Is that still true?”
“I—” The words stuck in her throat. It was supposed to be easy. Yes, I still feel that way. I’ll still send Aiden updates on the baby and let him contact the child if he wants to. She tried again. “Yes, but—”
They were both looking at her. She didn’t know—that was the truth. She didn’t know if she wanted to close the book on any hope of a relationship with Aiden, or if she wanted him to be involved with their future son or daughter. Lucy was used to keeping things simple—A or B—and that was how she’d had so much success in the lab. But right now, it didn’t seem so cut-and-dried.
“I think this comes down to what Aiden wants to do,” she said finally, and Mr. Pollwater turned his gaze back to where Aiden sat.
He was clearly uncomfortable.
“I thought we were here to…work that out.”
“It seems to me that there are two options,” said Mr. Pollwater. “Commit to some level of involvement with the child, or agree to let Ms. Carr be the sole parent. Which option is more favorable to you?”
Aiden looked at him across the table, eyebrows pulling together. “How can I know for sure until the child is born?”
Mr. Pollwater raised his hands as if Aiden had said something totally unreasonable. “There is no possible way—I repeat—no possible way that I can deal in a hypothetical of that nature. The choice is yours and yours alone, Mr. Harper.”
Lucy bit her lip. She hated this, and the knots in her stomach only wound tighter. All her cards were on the table. She wanted the baby and the data. The only wild card was Aiden himself, and there he was, being…thoughtful. This wasn’t going to be a quick decision.
“In terms of a relationship…with me,” she said carefully. “We could set ground rules. If you wanted communication only a certain way, for example. I could…just send pictures via the mail. Or only text messages. Or…nothing, if that’s what you’d rather do.”
“Let my own child grow up without a father?” Aiden shook his head.
“It wouldn’t necessarily be that way,” Lucy said, her heart in her throat. This was harder than she’d anticipated—sitting across from Aiden like this, her body aching for a child, and the most attractive man in town in the chair across from her.
The mediator let out a huff of a breath, though his expression didn’t change. “This is outside the bounds of the written agreement. Perhaps when you’ve had more time—”
Aiden was watching her, and even in the fluorescent light of the meeting room, Lucy felt the pull of his eyes. They were so many shades of blue, changing every moment. Deep, like the ocean.
Mr. Pollwater cleared his throat.
Aiden seemed to make a decision. He gave Lucy a little nod, then turned to Mr. Pollwater.
“Can you give us just a minute?”
* * *
Barry Pollwater was gray and boring and irritated, and Aiden couldn’t believe he could actually show a range of human emotions until his words registered with the man. And then Mr. Pollwater looked surprised. This was clearly not the kind of thing that happened every day in his office.
Lucy looked a little shocked, too, and she was the only one he really cared about. He’d had enough of this guy trying to make this something it wasn’t. And it wasn’t a public matter. It wasn’t something for boardrooms in little buildings downtown where anyone could walk by. This was between the two of them, contract or not.
“Of course.” Mr. Pollwater took his folder and went out, closing the door gently behind him.
Aiden felt the tension drain out of his shoulders. He leaned back in his seat. “There. That’s better.”
Lucy’s face was pink. “Why d’you send him out of here?”
He cracked a smile at that blush. For all her pretending that this was a business deal, he knew it wasn’t—not at the heart of it. There was a feeling in the air. And they’d never get to the bottom of it with that guy in the room. “There’s a reason babies are made in private. Sometimes you just need two people to come together alone.”
Her blush deepened. “That’s—I can’t argue with that. That’s true.”
He let out a deep breath and collected his thoughts. He’d been up half the night thinking about this stupid meeting, hoping that somehow a third party would be able to arrange all the tangled emotions in his chest and lay them out on paper for them to look at and decide on, like a pair of logical adults. “I have a few questions for you, Luce.”
She smiled at that, then arranged her face into a neutral expression. “Ask away.”
“Why me?” This was something that nagged at him. “You could have any guy in the world. Why come all the way back here for me?”
Lucy was ready with an answer. “You have the perfect genes.”
That was chuckle-worthy. “You think I’m the perfect man?”
Across from him, Lucy snorted, her dark eyes dancing. It was a sound Aiden hadn’t heard since high school, and something inside him ached to hear it again. He’d missed it. And he’d missed the way she blushed crimson when she realized what she’d done.
“No man is perfect,” she said, leaning in. “It’s your genes. Look at you.”
He took a glance down his broad body, then back up at her eyes. She was no longer looking at his face.
“I mean, really. Look at you. You’re tall and so strong. Physically, you’re light-years ahead of me. I was terrible in gym class. I’m pretty sure the only reason I passed was because Mrs. Henderson pitied me. It was hard.”
“Hard to be so smart, and so bad at volleyball?”
“Hard to be such a klutz. When you don’t have confidence in your own body, it can be a little…difficult to navigate things. Socially, I mean. I want to give any child of mine a chance not to have to worry about that kind of thing. I want the baby to be strong.” The last sentence was quieter than the rest as if it was a wish sent up to Heaven.
“What if it goes the wrong way, Luce? Have you thought of that?”
“What wrong way?”
“What if the child ends up with my brain and your lack of…brawn?”
Lucy waved a dismissive hand between them. “They’d be lucky to have either of our brains.” The notion must have tickled her, because she snorted again. “T
hat sounds disgusting. Like we’d actually take our brains out of our heads for the baby. No, Lucy, focus.” She whispered the last three words in a way that was so familiar to him that it felt like they’d gone to college together, then moved right back home. She sat up straighter. “I’m not worried about intelligence. Plus, I just can’t bring myself to trust the info sheets in a sperm bank. I like evidence, and you’re…well, you’re living, breathing evidence that you’re a perfect specimen for me.”
He raised his eyebrows. There it was again—perfect for her.
“For the baby,” Lucy said quickly. “For the baby to have the best chance at a successful life. I didn’t mean for me. That’s not what I mean.”
He let her hang there for a delicious moment. “I get it. I’ve got the goods,” he motioned down the length of his body. “And you’re providing a miracle.” The feeling of familiarity hadn’t gone away. “I’d do the same for you.”
“Yeah?”
Lucy looked for all the world like the seventeen-year-old version of herself again. For a moment he was right back there—back in school, wishing he could talk to her, and convincing himself it would never work.
“Yeah. I would. And that’s why this is so…”
“Emotional?”
“I was going to say complicated. We both need this to start soon. I need those pesticides, and you don’t want to wait, either.”
“What’s complicated about that?”
How we’ll feel when this baby is a living, breathing bundle in our arms, he thought. How we’ll feel in that hospital room, watching the child take its very first breaths. “How much you’ll want me to be involved when the time comes.”
“I want you to be involved as much or as little as you want, Aiden.” She said it with hope in her eyes.
“It’s a tough decision to make right now.” Moment by moment, he switched between wanting to say that she could take the baby and live her life away from him and wanting to say that he wanted every opportunity to be involved. Every single one. It would be his blood, after all. And…other things. “Maybe we could write it in so that—”
The Rancher’s Baby Bargain Page 5
