“So that the decision can be made after the birth?”
“Yeah. I want this to allow for the possibility of—what did you call it?—open adoption, but I also want to be able to decide if…you know, if it doesn’t work out between us…”
“Not to stay in contact,” Lucy said softly.
“Yeah.”
She frowned. “I don’t love how open-ended it is. But if this is what it takes, then let’s do it.”
“All right.” Aiden stood up. “Let me go get that man, and we can sign the papers.”
It was over in five minutes. Three signatures. A notary’s stamp. The deal was sealed.
They went back out into the morning sun, and Lucy moved fast to her car.
“You in a hurry to get away?” Aiden called after her.
She stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. “You’re coming too.”
“What?”
“We need to get this show on the road.” Lucy looked pointedly at the front of his pants with a little grin which gave him all sorts of feelings not fit for public consumption. “I’m ovulating.”
Eight
It was bold, no doubt about it, propositioning Aiden in the middle of the street outside of Mr. Pollwater’s office. But Lucy felt the silvery pull of adrenaline in her veins. And why not? The papers were signed. They’d agreed. There was no reason to delay. In fact, the faster they went, the better. She’d seen how Aiden had struggled with how to handle their relationship around their future child. She didn’t need him to get cold feet. She didn’t want to give him another second to question what they were about to do.
“All right,” Aiden said, and Lucy let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Lead the way. Wait.”
“What?” She’d already turned toward the road.
“Where are you…leading me?”
“Doctor’s office,” Lucy said. “If you can…provide a sample, the clinic and I can take it from there. That way, you’re more of a donor, and less of a—”
Aiden was already shaking his head. “No.”
“What?”
“No. I don’t want to do that.” His nose wrinkled. “Doing that in one of those little rooms, with everybody waiting for a sample? God, Luce.”
“It’s a good way to guarantee that it’ll take.”
“It’s no way to guarantee anything. And anyway, I’m of the opinion that the natural way is better.”
“The natural way isn’t always better. Your natural plants won’t survive the natural way,” she pointed out. This wasn’t how she’d planned for things to go. “And if we’re already headed there, you can put some…extra…in storage, in case it doesn’t go right the first time, and then…”
“Storage. Donation. No.” Aiden shook his head, heat in his eyes. “Give me one shot.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “Give me one shot at doing things the natural way. If it doesn’t work out, then next month…I’ll go to the clinic with you.” He shifted his weight a little, and it did nothing but put his muscles…his hard body…on full display. “Or would you rather go in and mediate about it some more with Barry?”
“No.” Lucy did not want to drag Barry into this. “Let’s…go to my house. You have yourself a deal.” She gave him two thumbs up and instantly regretted it. As soon as she turned around to get back in her car, she found herself ultra-aware of her pants.
Yes, her pants.
They were business casual, but they might as well have had a neon sign on the butt. If she were Aiden, that’s where she would be looking right now. Was he looking? She didn’t dare turn around and find out. If he was looking, were the pants doing her justice? Was she walking weird? Should she swing her hips more to get him in the mood? What if he was already in the mood? Was there heat gathering in all his most sensitive places, too?
Was he going to like having sex with her? Was she going to like having sex with him? What if she liked it too much? Maybe it was better to think of it as a business transaction, after all. But thinking of Aiden as a business transaction gave her a strange sad feeling deep in her gut.
She tried to shake it off. By the time she slid into the driver’s seat and started the car, Aiden’s truck was already pulling out of his spot in front of her. So he didn’t want to waste any time, either.
Tried was the key word. She tried to push away all the racing thoughts—about her pants, about Aiden, about his broad shoulders and carved muscles, about the way he would feel over her, his strength contained in all those muscles, how she’d feel digging her fingernails into his chest, crying out—
Oh, god. She was way ahead of herself. So far ahead of herself that she almost ran a stop sign and saw it at the very last moment. With a dramatic gasp she stomped her foot down on the brake, the rental car coming to a screeching stop in the middle of the intersection.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Lucy said to nobody. There were no other cars at the corners, only a tan minivan three blocks down. “You have got to get a hold of yourself.”
Aiden was waiting for her when she pulled into her parents’ driveway.
He stood on the front porch, his hands in his pockets, looking like he’d grown from boy to man in the blink of an eye as he stood there. She didn’t want to take him to homecoming. She wanted to take him to bed.
And obviously she never had done either thing, because he had never asked, and she’d never gotten up the courage to accost him in the hallway and demand a date.
She let herself look for a beat, appreciating the view. Aiden might not have had a career in football, but he sure looked like he did, and his tousled blond hair, pulled back in a low ponytail for the purposes of the meeting, called to her. Run your hands through me, it said. You’d like it. The delectably chiseled jaw didn’t hurt matters, either, and Lucy found herself taken with the multifaceted blue of his eyes.
She’d been staring too long.
She scrambled for her purse and climbed out, hitting the lock button three too many times. By the time she got up to the porch, Aiden was grinning at her.
“You sure it’s locked up tight? Lot of crime in these parts.”
“You can never be sure. I wouldn’t want to get carjacked while we—we—” Lucy wanted to cover her eyes with her hand. It was meant to be a hilarious joke, but she’d led herself right down a path of no return. “While we’re doing it,” she said finally, committing.
Aiden didn’t give her a laugh so much as a courtesy rumble.
This was her idea—getting started so fast—but Lucy’s hands trembled as she unlocked the front door. Was this performance anxiety? It was terrible.
Aiden followed her into the foyer, then closed the door behind them and flipped the lock.
“My room is—”
He reached out and took her hand.
“My room is upstairs.” She laughed nervously and prayed it wouldn’t turn into a snort.
“I could have guessed,” Aiden said, and a shiver ran down her spine. It was like being asked to homecoming and to be his girlfriend all at once, only it was…precisely none of those things. “Up we go.”
He was a man on a mission, Lucy saw. He might have had his reservations about the way things would play out in the future, but once Aiden signed on the dotted line, that was it. He kept his word. He didn’t hesitate once on the way up to her bedroom, only opened the door like it belonged to him and stepped inside.
Yes. She’d taken down some posters at the tail end of her cleaning spree, and she’d never been so pleased with her past self.
Aiden turned to face her, his muscled body taking up most of the space in the room. Lucy’s chest seemed to expand, filling with heat and light, because she swore—swore—that she saw desire in his eyes.
And not just a desire for pesticides.
“I—”
Aiden went for it.
He took one step and cupped her face in his big hand, tilting her head back so he could kiss her.
Her body coiled into a match. She felt ready
to burst into flame.
Because this was no businesslike kiss. This was no chaste peck to assure her that everything would be all right.
This was a navigator exploring virgin territory. This was a man possessing a wife. This was a mountain climber pinning a flag into the summit. Aiden explored every inch of her mouth as if it was a gift he’d never get to open again, and her body cried out for more. Her thoughts were a blur of yes and more and this is what he feels like??? Lucy, for once in her life, couldn’t remember the word “professionalism.” She was nothing but a piece of tinder waiting for an accelerant, and Aiden was pure fuel.
“Oh.” Lucy couldn’t help the word she moaned into his mouth. It was barely a word, but Aiden’s hands stopped their movements on the small of her back and the side of her neck. No, no, no. That wasn’t what she wanted.
His voice was a low rumble of concern. “Are you okay?”
There was no way for her to express how unbelievable it felt to kiss Aiden Harper, on more levels than one. Lucy had always put him on par with the rock stars and boy bands she’d loved in high school—fun to fantasize about, but completely out of her league. This was like the dream she’d had about kissing Justin Timberlake, only it was real. And Justin Timberlake would never agree to father a child for her. Though if she could kiss Aiden, what wasn’t possible? But if she had Aiden, she didn’t need Justin.
All these things raced through her mind, but the words that came out of her mouth were, “Oh, please, do that again.”
He laughed, pleased, and pulled her closer to his body. Aiden was already hard—Lucy could feel it through her clothes, and it sent all the sensation from her nerves straight down between her legs in a pulsing, throbbing line. It was intense. Far more intense than she ever could have imagined it, and they were only kissing.
Don’t lose it, she told herself sternly. This is a onetime deal. Unless, of course, you don’t get pregnant on the first try. Then, another smaller, quieter hope: Maybe you won’t get pregnant on the first try.
Aiden’s mouth was at her earlobe, tasting the pulse of her neck, and then lower…until it was blocked by the neckline of her shirt. With a frustrated growl Lucy took a half step back and fumbled for the buttons. There were too damn many of them.
That was when Aiden stepped in.
With a deft tug—and only one button springing free from its threads and hitting the carpet—he had her shirt on the floor. Then, as Lucy unzipped her skirt and wriggled it down over her hips, Aiden made quick work of his shirt, undoing the buttons and tossing it to the floor.
The sight of him froze her in place like a half-dressed statue.
He was stunning.
Aiden’s college football experience had turned him into a muscled machine, and he had never let that go. Clearly. Lucy knew he’d had to stop playing because of a knee injury, but he hadn’t used it as an excuse to get lazy. I’d love for my future child to learn that kind of ethic, she thought as her eyes traced the truly lickable ridges of his abs. How did each one get so…defined? Was it really just from all the hard work at the ranch, or did he also find time to go to the gym?
All this, and then Aiden took his pants and boxers off.
“You’re perfect,” Lucy gasped.
Aiden stretched his arms above his head, watching her. “You’ve said as much.”
Lucy’s brain felt like eggs being whisked together in the pan. She had massively underestimated Aiden’s perfection and now, standing in her childhood bedroom, she was confronted with the undeniable truth: he was a living god.
She couldn’t believe it when he grinned at her, for once not seeming to weigh every option like a man carrying the world on his shoulders. She couldn’t believe it when he came toward her again and took her skirt and underwear off all by himself. And she couldn’t believe it when he lifted her in his arms, took her to her bed, and spread her out on the comforter.
The bed creaked under his weight and then his mouth covered hers. He hadn’t been tentative before, and now—now—oh, she had made a mistake. She had made an enormous mistake. She should have written kissing into the contract right along with the pesticides and the data collection and the baby, because this? This was kissing.
Aiden bit and sucked and tasted and explored, and all Lucy could do was hang on for dear life. Right up until the moment he stopped.
“Are you ready?” His voice was husky, and in that moment, she became aware of what she’d been doing—rocking her hips against him, trying without realizing it to get contact between their bodies. A younger version of herself would have been entirely unable to face him at this point, now that she had rubbed herself all over him, but Lucy was not a younger version of herself.
And the winding sensation inside of her was as tight as it was ever going to get.
“Yes,” Lucy said. “Let’s do this. Let’s get this done.”
Aiden Harper pushed himself inside of her with one powerful stroke, and Lucy knew that nothing would ever be the same. Even if she didn’t get pregnant from this magnificent man pumping in and out of her like he was dying of thirst and sex was water, she’d never forget. Every moment was etched into her mind as white-hot desire.
An orgasm hadn’t been part of the deal, or part of the contract, but it came upon Lucy like a tidal wave, sweeping her under and spitting her back out into the air with a gasp and a cry. She arched under Aiden, barley registering his words in her ear: yes, baby and you’re so wet and so close, so close, so close.
When he came, it was a thing of athletic beauty, abs bunching, leg muscles tightening, emptying into her with a burst of heat and a low growl.
Then they were both back in the real world, breathing hard. Aiden’s face was flushed with the exertion of it.
Something in the air had shifted around them—something Lucy couldn’t name.
Aiden shook his blond hair out of his face. “That’s a hell of a contract we signed,” he said, his blue eyes reverent.
Lucy still couldn’t catch her breath. “Yes, it was. Yes.”
He ran a hand over his hair, then stood up carefully from the bed. “Okay, then.” He seemed to give himself permission to look at Lucy one more time, then turned for his clothes. “You want to get some lunch?”
Nine
Harold’s Diner had been in town for literally generations. The building had even burned down—twice—and been rebuilt to look just like the original because it was so beloved by the original citizens, and Lucy was glad for it. Just walking into the building was enough to remind her of the hundreds of times she’d visited with her parents. The three of them had had plenty of meals here together, but she’d also gone on solo dates with her mom or with her dad when the other one was busy with some project or just wanted extra time with her. It gave her heart a funny ache to see the old neon sign, exactly as it always had been.
But it didn’t hurt to sit in the booth across from Aiden and see how he was utterly at home here. He leaned back against the red fabric covering the booth’s padding and looked at a menu he’d probably seen a million times, his eyes still alight from the sex they’d had.
Okay—that wasn’t entirely truthful. It did hurt a little. It hurt a little that this was the first time she’d ever sat in a booth with Aiden. It shouldn’t have mattered, but being back in town was having a strange, nostalgic effect on Lucy. All sorts of high school memories were coming back. None of them really included Aiden, unless you counted passing each other in the hallway or sharing a glance across a crowded football field. Incidental encounters. Nothing special.
But the diner—yes. Harold’s was the best. He’d carefully maintained his fifties decor for—how long now? Thirty years? Forty? And took great pride in painting the walls every summer. Some people liked the rustic charm of a place that’s gone a little to seed, but Lucy was glad that Harold was handy with a paintbrush and cared about maintaining his little piece of history. Not everybody did that. Not every town would have cheered him on after both fires, rallying around
him.
Lucy thought back to her high school days—to how desperately she had wanted to escape to college. The town had seemed too small and too closed-minded, but now, thinking of all those people coming together to rebuild Harold’s…maybe it wasn’t so bad here after all. Not that it had ever been bad, per se, only…smaller than Lucy thought the world should be. But what did that matter as long as people helped each other when they needed it? What did any of it matter, in the end?
God. Their first try, and she was already getting emotional. To be fair, the diner wasn’t helping. It was as if all the memories washed over her in waves, layering themselves together in vivid color.
When Molly, the waitress, came around to take their orders, Lucy was ready. “A banana milkshake,” she said, and wasn’t very surprised at the painful catch in her throat. “And a grilled cheese sandwich.” Lucy remembered the bedroom—remembered Aiden’s low noises of satisfaction—and had a flash of what could be. A little girl, sitting in the booth next to her, ordering the same thing. Maybe that little girl would have his hair. Maybe she would have her eyes.
Aiden ordered a cheeseburger and a Coke and handed the menu over to Molly without taking his eyes off Lucy.
“I’ll put this right in,” Molly said cheerfully, but Lucy could feel her watching. Of course she’d be watching. Lucy was at a booth with Aiden Harper, right out in public where anyone could see. She felt like even Molly knew what they’d done in her childhood bedroom only minutes ago.
Once she stepped away, Aiden leaned in, the action enough to make it feel like he was sitting right next to her. “Are you all right?” The tone of his voice was careful. “That was a little more than the contract strictly called for, but I thought we might as well—”
“Oh, no.” Lucy was gripped by the sudden fear that he’d think she hadn’t enjoyed herself, while also simultaneously worrying that he thought she enjoyed herself too much. “It was—” She shook her head, waiting for the right word to present itself. When no word was forthcoming, she gave him a thumbs up.
The Rancher’s Baby Bargain Page 6
