A call was definitely in order.
Aiden went into the kitchen and looked out over the ranch. It was a bright, sunny morning, and his heart beat fast.
He tugged his phone from his pocket.
It rang in his hand.
Lucy, he thought. She had heard his thoughts and was calling him first.
But—no. It was an unfamiliar number. Aiden always answered his phone if he was free, because so many people called him about his projects with the city. He swallowed his disappointment and answered.
“Aiden Harper.”
“Mr. Harper,” the voice on the other end of the line boomed. “This is Christopher Jones.”
For a heartbeat, the name didn’t ring any bells, but it didn’t matter because Christopher kept right on talking.
“I sampled your beer as part of the judging process at the festival this past weekend, and I was mightily impressed. I’m calling, Mr. Harper, on behalf of my company, Craft Midwest. Do you have a minute to talk?”
No, Aiden thought. I was just about to call Lucy. But then his business mind kicked into gear. “Yes. Of course. I’m—I’m glad you were impressed with the beer. It’s been a passion project of mine.”
“That’s obvious from the quality.”
Aiden’s mind raced. Craft Midwest was a major beer producer. Major. Their beers were in bars all across the country, and Christopher Jones was second in command at the company. He had been one of the people to shake hands with Aiden at the festival, and now that they were talking, he remembered the voice.
He cleared his throat. “What can I do for you, Mr. Jones?”
“I’ve got an offer I’d like to discuss with you.”
“What kind of offer.”
“A production offer,” Chris said with a laugh. “We’d like to help you get your beer a real run. Get it in front of a representative sample of customers.”
This was unbelievable. “Because of a local beer contest?”
“You’re too humble.”
Christopher Jones seemed to find Aiden hilarious, but…he had to be missing something.
“We’ve been watching you for a couple of years now, Mr. Harper. There’s been quite a bit of buzz coming out of your area.”
“Buzz? From who?”
“It’s…an involved process, but we listen to the locals. People who visit breweries and bars. We even collect data from the grocery store, if you can believe it.”
“My beers aren’t really in those places. A couple of local restaurants, but—”
“And people are talking about them. Mr. Harper, we think the time is right for your brand to become legitimate.”
He could hardly speak. Aiden was shocked and flattered, heat high in his cheeks. If he had a vision board on his wall, this exact telephone call would be on it, front and center.
“I—”
“So, what we’d need from you is an outline of your process. We’ll need to do some larger scale production, but it’ll mean a commitment in terms of materials.”
“Materials?”
“Hops. You have your own crop, so that should be the least of your worries. The next step will be—”
Christopher Jones’ voice faded out, and all Aiden could hear were the numbers that kept popping up. So many for testing. So many for building buzz. So many for an initial launch.
“—for the launch to be feasible,” Christopher was saying. Aiden set aside his intense excitement and did the math.
It was then that his heart sank.
He did the math again, then again. As Christopher told him about the benefits of working with a production company as large as Craft Midwest, Aiden went back to his office and dug a pad of paper and a pen out of his desk. He did the math by hand.
It didn’t measure up.
In order to say yes to Christopher Jones, he’d need to sell most of his available crop to his own brewery. The deal would be made official through that branch of the ranch. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was the crop. Even if the pesticide worked as well as they hoped, it still wouldn’t be a bumper crop—too much damage had been done by the spider mites.
The bottom line was that he didn’t have enough hops to fulfill his obligations and sign a deal with Craft Midwest. And he couldn’t sell everything he had to his own brewery. There wasn’t enough money being generated by the ranch to do it.
Making this move—even though it was his dream come true—would result in the ranch going under.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jones.” He cut the man off in mid-sentence, suddenly desperate to say what he had to say. “Now’s not a good time.”
“I’m happy to continue our conversation when you have an opening in your schedule.”
“No, I—” Aiden swallowed hard. “It’s not a good time for my business. I’m not in any position to sign a deal with you right now.”
“Then I haven’t done my job.” He could practically hear Christopher Jones sitting up straighter. “I’m telling you—this will be the best business move you ever make. We are here for you, Aiden.”
“I just don’t—”
“Think it over,” Christopher insisted. “Take some time. Call me if you have any questions about anything we’ve discussed today. I think you have an excellent product that the market’s going to love. I’m not giving up on you, Mr. Harper. Not that easily.”
“All right,” Aiden said, his gut roiling. He wanted to keep talking until he found a solution, but he knew they could talk themselves in circles all day and never find one. “Thank you so much for your interest, Mr. Jones.”
“I’ll be in touch,” he said, and then the call ended.
Aiden tossed his phone onto the desk and cursed out loud.
If only those spider mites had never descended upon his ranch, he would have been perfectly positioned to accept the deal, and then—
Then what?
It hit him like a punch to the gut, the frustration draining out of him like a plug had been pulled. If the spider mites had never existed, there would have been no reason for Lucy to come back to town. He never would have had a reason to see her in those high school clothes. Or hear the way she laughed when she was sated after they devoured each other in bed. Or feel the way she arched and stretched under his hands.
Aiden picked up his phone and went back out to the kitchen.
He wasn’t supposed to feel this way about her. It wasn’t part of the agreement. But his entire body sang with the need to see her. Or, if he couldn’t do that, to hear her.
Aiden dialed her number, saved in the first spot on his phone.
“Hi!” Lucy answered on the first ring, sounding chipper and slightly out of breath. “How—how are you doing?”
They hadn’t talked about the positive pregnancy test on the way home from the beer festival. Aiden hadn’t had the words to describe how he was feeling, and with Lucy alternately beaming and putting her hand to her forehead, it wasn’t the right time for the conversation. When he’d dropped her off at home, she had leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then hopped out of the car and ran for the front door. His heart had twisted, watching the spring in her step.
I need you here, he wanted to say. I’ve just turned down the biggest deal of my life, and somehow the thought of you makes it seem all right. What doesn’t seem all right is the thought of never being in your bed again.
“I have some questions about the pesticide,” Aiden said. “Today’s the big day.”
Lucy hesitated. “The big day?”
“We’ve reached the point in the process where we’re supposed to hit them through the irrigation system. Only I want to make sure we’ve got a handle on the process. You wanted to check that out—get the data.” He shifted his weight from one foot to another.
“That’s right,” Lucy said, and he could hear in her voice that she had been expecting to talk about something else entirely. “Yes. That’s right. The data.” There was a rustling noise as if she was going through a closet. “I ca
n be there in half an hour. Is that okay? I don’t want to hold things up for you with the irrigation system.”
“I’m just happy you’ll be here,” he said, the truth of it singing at the center of his chest. He was deliriously happy to know that she’d be making her way to the ranch. Sex or no sex. Future or no future. All that mattered was the present.
Lucy laughed. “I’m glad I’ll be there, too.”
Seventeen
“I had a plan,” Lucy groaned. It took Aiden a moment to pinpoint where her voice was coming from—the living room. She usually greeted him at the door, eyes bright and hair wild, and today she had…not done that. The weak call to come in had sounded so pathetic that his heart had beat faster. Lucy’s front door was unlocked, which had saved him the trouble of kicking it in, but it was rather dim inside, and she still sounded off.
“Luce? Where are you? It’s dark in here.”
“The dark makes me less nauseous. I think.” In the shadows, a hand rose from the sofa, waving at him.
He went into the living room and knelt down at Lucy’s side. “Is everything okay?”
Lucy reclined on the sofa, her upper back and head cradled by a pillow that said YOU’RE A HOOT and had a picture of a large barn owl on it. “It’s okay as long as I don’t move. Or stand up. Or eat anything. Or drink anything. Or look into the light. Or—”
“Got it.” Aiden reached for her hand. She was obviously sick, but he was here. They needed to do something about it. “But you’ve got to eat at some point.”
“Don’t talk to me about food.” Lucy took in a series of deep, measured breaths. “Seriously.” He noticed the small plastic garbage bin perched helpfully next to the sofa.
This simply wouldn’t do. Lucy couldn’t spend the rest of the pregnancy on the sofa, not eating. He wracked his brain for pregnancy knowledge. He’d looked up enough of it on the internet to know that there were solutions for morning sickness, even though it was now…three in the afternoon. “Stay here. I’m going to get…something.”
Lucy didn’t move as he left the living room and went into the kitchen which was bathed in clear afternoon sunlight. It didn’t take much rummaging to find a package of Town House crackers. They weren’t saltines, but they were relatively plain. They’d have to do for the moment. If these didn’t help, he could run to the store. He felt poised to grab his keys from his pocket and sprint out of the house.
Back at the sofa, he pulled open one of the packages. “Do this as a favor to me,” he told Lucy gently. “Just…try putting it in your mouth. You don’t have to swallow.”
“Aiden Harper, that is the dirtiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
It made him laugh so hard he had to sit back on the carpet. “Imagine I said it in a different way, then.”
“No, it motivates me.”
Lucy gently pushed herself upright, pausing with every movement and re-centering herself. At last, she took the cracker from Aiden’s hand like he was handing her raw meat and considered it.
“Don’t think about it,” he said. “Just do it.”
“Fine.”
She bit off half the cracker and closed her mouth over it, a streak of light spilling in from the front curtain and across her face. Aiden saw the reluctance there turn into curiosity, and then, at last, relief.
Lucy swallowed.
“Don’t get any ideas,” she warned, crooning an eyebrow at him, and he managed to control most of his laugh. She ate the second half of the cracker, and then, after a few minutes, a second, then a third.
Then she dropped her head into her hands. “I had a plan,” she said again. “I was going to go down to the boutique and return some things I got there. I don’t…I just don’t love them anymore. And if the weight gain is as a bad as the morning sickness, I’ll never be able to wear them anyway.”
Relief was rushing through Aiden, pure and strong. He hadn’t known how badly morning sickness could flatten someone, and now that she was sitting upright, he felt both his worry for her and the absence of it. “I’ll give you a ride, if you want.”
Lucy looked up at him. “That would be so great. If you don’t mind…”
So, despite the fact that he had only been coming by to update her on the hops plants, he drove her downtown to the boutique and carried her bags inside.
“You don’t have to come this far,” Lucy said. “I’ll be okay.”
He took one look at her still-pale face and shook his head. “I’m going with you. Who else is going to carry these bags?”
“Not me, I guess,” Lucy said, then let him open the door for her, too. Inside, she considered the little store. “I have to return at least the skinny jeans I bought. I’m too bloated. Would you mind…”
“I’ll hold these. You go look for something you like.”
It was an offer he almost regretted once she’d made her way across the store. He felt like a bull in a china shop—too large to follow her back there, and even if he did, he’d probably snag half the store on these bags. There was nothing to do but watch her as she circled the rack, slowly, carefully, then reached out and felt the fabric of a periwinkle shirt that flowed, the fabric soft and forgiving. The thoughtful look on her face twisted at his heart.
Someone else was watching him.
Aiden flicked his gaze to the cash register and caught her looking.
Holly Jackson.
Her mouth was twisted into a pursed frown. She didn’t seem to care that he’d seen her—in fact, she held his gaze for an awkwardly long moment before turning her attention back to Lucy.
Holly’s shoulders rose and fell with a little sigh before she called out. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Lucy’s expression was so hopeful and open when she raised her head that it broke his heart. “These shirts—do you have any other colors?”
“I can check in the back, no problem.” Holly’s voice was warm, but Aiden heard it for what it was…fake. Heat crept up the back of his neck under his collar—an angry warmth. She was his ex, but that didn’t matter so much as the fact that she was judging Lucy. He took it for granted that she would judge him, but Lucy? That bothered him.
He shouldn’t care what Holly thought. She had always been judgmental, a trait his own mother had described as unladylike in hypocritical fashion. She was right—Holly was that way, and she’d gone from being the queen bee of her social circle in high school to the queen bee of the new-moms’ group. It wasn’t as if Lucy would be joining it, but he could see right now how Holly would treat her.
He’d known. He’d known everyone in town was talking about the two of them. Rumors that Lucy had entrapped him into this baby scheme and tricked him into a relationship crept through town.
She hadn’t. And short of announcing that she hadn’t, there was nothing he could do to communicate that he hadn’t been duped. Nothing except, of course, acting like he was a full and committed partner in this enterprise. Which he was. It didn’t look like it when he was over here hovering by the door like a man of afraid of women’s clothes.
Holly had come out of the back room with a few more shirts slung over her arm and was consulting with Lucy about them. Before he could figure out the best route back to the dressing rooms, Lucy had taken the shirts from Holly, along with a pair of knit pants, and disappeared into one of them.
Aiden held his arms as close to his body as possible, managing to get to the dressing room doors without toppling any clothing racks. He rapped his fingers lightly on the slatted door. “Luce? I’m out here if you want to—” It struck him that this had not been his best thought-out plan. “If you want any opinions on the clothes.” It was all he could do to keep from cringing.
Thankfully, Lucy laughed. “I’ll be out in just a second, and you can tell me what you think.”
A minute later, Lucy emerged from the dressing room wearing the periwinkle shirt and a pair of black pants that hugged her legs. She sashayed over to the mirror, eyes alight, and blew herself a kiss.<
br />
“It looks great.” Aiden’s heart was so full at her joy that he felt like it’d take up all the rest of the room in the store. “Really, Luce, you look great.”
“I feel great. Look.” She said the last word sotto voce then spun back to Aiden, lifting the shirt. The waistband of the pants looked comfortable and stretchy, not constricting around the hint of bloat at her waist. “This is the most comfortable pair of pants I’ve ever worn in my life. I’m in love with them. I’m wearing them out of the store. And I—” She dropped the shirt, her face going slightly green.
“You okay?” He found himself immediately at her side, a hand on her elbow.
“Just…need to…sit down.” There was a white chair tucked up next to the wall, so prim it almost looked decorative, but it supported Lucy as she sank into it, nonetheless. Even with the green tinge to her face, she still looked as gorgeous as she ever had, but his admiration was pushed under by worry. Lucy took one deep breath, then another.
“What can I do?” He shifted her bags to one hand, then set them down on the floor in case…in case he needed both hands, he guessed. Lucy was still taking deep breaths. “What do you need?” He should have brought the crackers.
Holly appeared at his elbow. “Do you need a trash can?” There was an edge to her tone that told Aiden she was mostly concerned about her floors.
Lucy sat up and gave her a cheeky smile. “I just need my purse. Quick as you can.”
Holly wasted no time going into the dressing room and grabbing Lucy’s purse. She tipped it into Lucy’s lap. Lucy dug around in the bag until she came up with her wallet, then slipped her card from one of the inside pockets. “Ring up the pants and shirts, would you?”
“My pleasure,” Holly said flatly.
“We should go,” Aiden said. “We should get out of here right now and get you to some crackers.”
Lucy flicked her eyes up to the ceiling and back down. “I’ll be all right if you just let me sit here for a minute.”
The Rancher’s Baby Bargain Page 12
