“You need to get out more, babe.”
Emma experienced the familiar tightening in her chest at his flippant attitude. Her smile faded. “I think deep down you really don’t want to introduce me to him.”
Aidan glanced away from the road to stare at her. “What? Why?”
“You don’t want to have to explain anything to him about what we are or what we aren’t, and you definitely don’t want to have to pretend I’m your girlfriend.”
“Well, I hadn’t actually planned on introducing you as my girlfriend. I was going to lie and say we were working on a project together for work.”
“Oh,” Emma murmured.
“You didn’t think I was going to waltz in there and drop the bomb on him about the baby, did you? I think that would freak him out a little.”
“Are you ever planning on telling him?”
“And what would I say? ‘Hey dad, this is the girl who asked me to knock her up because her biological clock was ticking. Maybe once in a while she’ll let you see the kid if you want, but I signed a contract where I don’t have any parental or financial obligations.’”
Emma shook her head. “You know I had that part of the contract edited. Besides, I would never keep the baby away from its grandfather...or its father.”
Aidan glanced over at her in surprise. “You mean you wouldn’t object to me having a bigger part in the baby’s life?”
Emma’s heart thumped so loudly in her chest she was sure Aidan could hear it. She fought to find her voice. “Of course not. I want you to do whatever you feel comfortable with.”
Aidan remained quiet for a few seconds. Then he sighed. “I want to make one thing clear: having a bigger part doesn’t mean I’m going to be a typical father and help you raise it—and I’m sure as hell not changing diapers or getting up in the middle of the night to feed it or anything.”
Emma bit her lip to keep from grinning. She continued chipping away at his hardened veneer little by little. It was a small step, but she would take what she could get.
“That’s okay. I didn’t expect you to do any of that. I just wanted him or her to at least know who their father was.”
“Then we’re good to go.”
Aidan pulled into the driveway of a modest brick home. Just like at his house, the yard was breathtaking. “You weren’t kidding when you said your dad has a green thumb,” she mused as they got out of the car.
Aidan grinned. “Wait until he shows you his rose garden.”
“He has an entire rose garden?”
“Yes, with multiple breeds.”
“That’s amazing. Maybe he would be willing to give me some gardening tips. I’d love to have more flowers growing around the window of the baby’s room.”
“I’m sure he would be more than happy to help.”
As Emma made her way up the driveway, she stumbled. Aidan snaked an arm around her waist to steady her. “Are you all right?”
“I’ve just been a little dizzy lately. Another wonderful side effect of early pregnancy.”
“Glad to hear it wasn’t our exertions last night making you lightheaded,” he replied with a smirk.
She smacked his arm playfully. “You’re terrible.”
“Well, hello there!” a silver-headed man called from the side of the house.
Surprise flooded Emma when Aidan didn’t drop his arm from her waist. “Hey, Pop.”
“Good to see you, son,” Aidan’s father replied with a smile. He shielded his eyes from the sun and gazed at Emma. “And who is this pretty lady?”
“This is Emma Harrison. We work together.”
Emma extended her hand and smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Fitzgerald.”
“Please call me Patrick,” he replied, shaking her hand. “Do you like roses, Emma?”
“Yes, I do. I was just admiring all your beautiful flowers.”
“Come then. Let me show you my rose garden.” He held out his arm like a gentleman of the past, and Emma slipped hers through it. They strolled across the front yard with Aidan trailing behind them.
When they turned the corner, Emma gasped at the rainbow of colors. “Oh it’s breathtaking!”
“Thank you. I’ve just worked on integrating several new breeds.”
Aidan’s phone rang. When he grabbed it out of his pocket, he groaned. Patrick and Emma glanced over at him. “It’s work. I better take this.”
“Go ahead, son. The roses will still be here when you finish,” Patrick replied good-naturedly.
As Aidan walked around the corner of the house, Emma delicately fingered a red rose before bending over to smell it. The intoxicating fragrance perfumed her senses and she sighed with pleasure. “These are so beautiful.”
Patrick beamed with pride. “Those are Don Juans, or Sweetheart Roses. They’re also known as climbing roses because they grow well on arbors and sides of buildings. The nice thing about them is they’re so resilient they don’t need a lot of pruning to come back year after year.” Patrick traced his finger over one of the thorns. “My late wife actually planted these.”
Emma’s heart ached at his sad expression. She reached over and rubbed Patrick’s arm tenderly. “Aidan told me about her passing away. I’m very sorry for your loss. In a way, I know what it feels like to lose someone who is your whole world.”
“You do?” Patrick asked softly.
“My mother died of cancer two years ago. She was everything to me, especially after my father was killed when I was six.” She gave him a sad smile. “Sometimes it feels like I’ll never get over it, like I’ll just have this gaping hole in my heart for the rest of my life.”
Patrick nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly how it feels.” He took her hand in his and squeezed it tight. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
“You’re welcome.”
Silence hung around them as Emma kept admiring Patrick’s garden. She had just inhaled what she imagined was a Yellow Rose of Texas when Patrick’s voice startled her. “So you and my son work together?”
“We’re both at the same company, but he actually works a few floors above me.”
“I see.”
Emma glanced up from the rose she was admiring to find Patrick giving her a knowing look. “And you two expect me to believe there’s nothing between you but that you work together?” he asked with a smile.
Emma flushed. “Well, no, I mean, it’s complicated.”
“Isn’t love always complicated?”
“I-I guess so, but we’ve only known each other for a couple months, so he’s not in love—I mean, we’re not in love.”
Patrick pinched his lips together. “Do you see this rose?”
Emma nodded.
“It doesn’t look like it’s going to bloom, does it?”
Tilting her head, Emma eyed the closed bud. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Ah, but that’s where appearances are deceiving. Sometimes the ones that bloom fastest fade quickly. It’s these that are the toughest to coax out that make some of the most gorgeous flowers.” He snipped a long stemmed Don Juan and handed it to Emma. “You can tell me that you and Aidan aren’t in love, but looks can be deceiving.”
She gasped and almost dropped the rose. She opened her mouth to argue with Patrick, but Aidan came strolling up. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s all right, son. I was enjoying getting to know Emma better,” Patrick replied. Emma ducked her head to avoid his intense stare. “Won’t you two join me for lunch?
“I was actually in the process of taking Em out to brunch when you called.”
“Psh, who wants brunch when you can have a home-cooked meal? It’s your mother’s shepherd’s pie.”
Emma watched as Aidan’s eyes lit up, and she knew she could forgo her craving for pancakes. “That sounds delicious,” she said.
Aidan raised his eyebrows questioningly, and she nodded. “Okay then, we’ll stay.”
“Wonderful!” Patrick exclaimed, motioning them to the backdoor.
&nb
sp; Emma smiled. “I have to admit I’m very impressed with the culinary skills of the Fitzgerald men.”
Patrick glanced at Aidan over his shoulder. “Oh, you’ve cooked for Emma?”
She fought the urge to giggle at what looked like a red flush creeping across Aidan’s tanned cheeks. “Yeah, just some scampi. Nothing exciting.”
“He’s just being modest. It was delicious.”
Patrick held the door open for them. “I guess us Fitzgerald men have been forced into learning to cook—me because of being a widower, and Aidan by being a confirmed bachelor.”
“I’m sure whatever you have prepared will be delicious,” Emma said.
Patrick picked up an oven mitt. “Aidan, why don’t you take Emma on to the dining room and set another plate at the table while I get the food together?”
“Why don’t you let me help?” Emma offered.
He smiled. “That would be wonderful.”
Once everything was finished, they all sat down. Patrick reached out his hands. “Aidan, would you say grace?”
Emma’s mouth gaped open in shock. Never in a million years would she have pegged Aidan as anything remotely close to religious, least of all being entrusted with saying the blessing.
As he reached out for her hand, Aidan winked. “Close your mouth, Em. You’ll catch a fly like that.”
She pinched her lips together and shot him a murderous glance, but when he took his hand in hers and grazed his fingers tenderly over her knuckles, her anger evaporated. “Dear Lord, for what we are about to receive, make us truly thankful. Amen.”
As they lifted their heads, Patrick repeated, “Amen.” Emma gave Aidan a coy smile and murmured, “Short and sweet.” He merely chuckled and put his napkin in his lap.
The moment Patrick took the lid off the pot, Emma’s stomach clenched. Oh no, not now. Please not now! she silently begged. As the meaty aroma invaded her nostrils, nausea overtook her. The bile rose in her throat and she clamped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry!” she murmured before leaping from the table, knocking her chair over in the process.
19
Aidan swept a nervous glance over to his father and swallowed hard as Patrick stared at Emma’s retreating form. At the sound of the bathroom door slamming, Patrick raised an expectant brow.
His mind whirled with how he was going to possibly explain Emma’s behavior and keep their secret. He finally smiled apologetically. “I should have mentioned that she is a vegetarian, and that the smell of meat makes her sick.”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
“Excuse me?” Aidan demanded, leaning forward in his seat. That was certainly not the response he’d expected. His lie seemed pretty plausible to him—well, except for the small fact that Emma had happily accepted a lunch invitation for meaty pie not ten minutes before.
Patrick shook his head. “She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”
Aidan’s own stomach churned, and he fought the urge to bolt from the table just like Emma. “What would possess you to think that?” he croaked. He sure as hell hoped Emma hadn’t mentioned something to Patrick while they were looking at the roses. If anyone was going to drop the bomb about his impending fatherhood, it was going to be him.
“Because of your mother. She couldn’t stand to be in the same room with meat when she was pregnant with you. Even the faintest smell would send her to the bathroom. The worst was when we were in the city and passed a hotdog stand.” Patrick smiled wistfully. “I haven’t seen anyone have that kind of reaction since her, not even your sisters.”
Aidan cast a glance down the hall. “Emma’s only about six weeks along. The morning sickness, or I guess I should say nausea, is hitting her really bad.”
“I assume the child is yours?”
“Of course it is,” Aidan growled.
“Surely you can see why I would question you. After all, you introduced her as a friend from work and now you’re telling me she’s pregnant with your child.”
“I didn’t quite know how to tell you.”
“Are you planning on marrying her?”
“It’s not that simple.”
Patrick’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “It isn’t? I thought when you got a woman pregnant, you did the honorable thing and offered to marry her. Why the hell were you sleeping with her if you didn’t love her or see a future with her? Or are you still hell bent on being the asshole who uses women for his selfish own purposes?”
Aidan narrowed his eyes and gripped the edge of the lace tablecloth. “Jesus Christ, Pop, don’t hold anything back. Tell me how you really feel.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re thirty-two years old. You haven’t had a single long-term relationship since you broke it off with Amy.” Patrick shook his head sadly. “If I’m being completely honest, I could say that Amy and Emma remind me a lot of each other. I certainly don’t want to see Emma get hurt like Amy did, especially if she’s carrying my grandchild.”
“Look, quit playing me out as the villain. Emma wanted a baby, so I agreed to help her.”
Patrick opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. Once he’d had a moment to adjust to the news, an amused smile curved on his lips. “Ah, you’re like her stud horse or something?”
“Not funny.”
“Sorry, son. I couldn’t resist.” He patted Aidan’s arm. “All joking aside, I just want you to think long and hard about what you’re doing. I can see you care deeply for Emma, and she does for you.”
Aidan shifted in his chair and stared down at his hands. “I don’t know how I feel.”
“You know what your mother would say, don’t you?”
Sinking fast in the quicksand of his father’s words, Aidan swept out of his chair and went to pour himself a drink. He pulled the Scotch from the cabinet. “Don’t bring her into this. She badgered me enough herself—always wondering why I broke Amy’s heart, why I wouldn’t settle down, marry some nice girl from church, and punch out a bunch of kids.” He conveniently left out the part about how she had made him promise on her deathbed to have children one day.
“Don’t you realize, son? She knew that’s what would really make you happy.”
Aidan scowled. “But she never saw the real me—she only believed the good parts. If she had really stopped to think about it, she would have realized I never wanted to be tied down or be stuck with the same woman day in and day out.”
Hurt radiated in Patrick’s eyes. “Is that what you think of the forty-five years I had with your mother?”
Aidan threw his head back and stared at the water stain on the dining room ceiling. He wished he had never answered his phone or agreed to come over. Most of all, he wished he had never, ever thought bringing Emma with him would be a good idea. She had been right when she had anticipated that her presence would bring on the third degree. Aidan sighed and looked over at his father. “No, Pop, that’s not what I think, but we’re different people.”
“Emma could be the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
A snort erupted from Aidan’s lips. “How the hell would you know that? You’ve been with her all of an hour!”
“I may be an old man, but I’m not blind. She’s the total package, son. She’s just as beautiful on the inside as she is on the out. How can you not be amazed by what a special young woman she is? Why, if I was your age, I’d be doing everything in my power to make her mine—especially if she was carrying my child.”
Aidan opened his mouth to argue, but at the sound of the bathroom door creaking, he closed it. “Not a word,” he whispered to his father. When Emma appeared, her face was positively ghostlike, except for the flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. She eased down in her seat and tentatively glanced across the table at Aidan.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She gave a weak smile. “I’m fine.” She then turned to Patrick. “Mr. Fitzgerald, I’m so sorry for ruining your lunch like that.”
He held up his index finger to silence her. “You did no s
uch thing.” He reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “Besides, it does an old man’s heart good to hear he’s going to be a grandfather again.”
“Shit, Pop, I said not a word!” Aidan exclaimed as Emma’s eyes widened as big as saucers.
“You told him?” she demanded.
Patrick shook his head. “Now don’t be getting upset with him. I’m the one who guessed it. When my late wife was pregnant with Aidan, she suffered terribly with morning sickness—well, we jokingly called it the all-day sickness because it wasn’t just regulated to the morning. Smells bothered her something terrible.”
Emma clutched her abdomen. “It’s awful.”
“If I were a betting man, I’d put good money on you carrying a boy. After all, my wife only experienced what she did with Aidan.”
Emma gave a dreamy smile. “A boy would be wonderful, but I’ll be just as happy with a girl—as long as he or she is healthy, that’s all that matters.”
Patrick patted her hand. “Oh, but you need a boy. That way the Fitzgerald family name will go on.” He turned to Aidan. “You are planning on giving the baby your last name, aren’t you?”
“Jesus Christ, Pop! Lighten up.”
“I’m a staunch Irish Catholic, son, I’m not going to ease up on the legitimacy of my grandchild.”
Aidan felt the blood draining from his face. He immediately reached for his glass and knocked back the rest of the Scotch. At his father’s continued scrutiny, he shifted in his chair. “Well, Emma and I haven’t discussed it.”
“Don’t you want to carry on our family’s name?” Patrick turned his intense gaze on Emma. “I was the only son of my parents, and I had only one son. I have five grandsons and a great-grandson, yet our name will die out with Aidan.”
“Oh come on, Pop, it’s not like I’ll be the last Fitzgerald ever. Granddad Fitz had seven brothers!” Aidan argued.
Patrick crossed his arms over his chest in a huff. “Fine then. If you won’t give the baby your name, I’ll give him mine!”
When Emma squeaked across from him, Aidan knew she was upset by the overt tension between the two strong-willed men facing off. “Would you please knock it off? You’re freaking Em out.”
Love in the Dark Page 102
