Emma met Aidan’s horrified glance. “Yeah, that’s right. Your dog is even more loyal to me and your son than you are.”
With a defeated look, Aidan hung his head and released Beau’s collar. “Fine, take him.”
“Come on, boy. Get in the car,” Emma instructed. Beau wagged his tail and eagerly hopped inside. Without another look at Aidan, she slammed the door. Squealing out of the driveway, she tried to keep her emotions in check, but it was no use. She got half a block down the road before she had to pull over. Tears blinded her eyes and she couldn’t see in front of her, couldn’t breathe from the sobs raging through her chest.
A knock at her window caused her to jump. Hope ricocheted through Emma that Aidan had come after her. Glancing up, her heart fell.
Becky stood outside the car, peering curiously at her. “Emma?”
Damn. She hadn’t even thought about the prospect of ending up on Becky’s street. The last person she wanted to see was one of Aidan’s sisters. Mortified, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and tried to compose herself. Finally, she pressed the button to roll down the window. “Hi,” she said, meekly.
Becky sucked in a breath. “Oh God, he didn’t.”
Tears once again filled Emma’s eyes. Unable to speak, she merely bobbed her head.
“I’m so, so sorry. He loves you, sweetheart. I know he does. The whole family knows it. He’s just being a stupid asshole.”
Emma hiccupped between sobs. “Tell that to him and the woman he was about to sleep with before I walked in.”
Becky’s eyes widened. “I’m going to kill him,” she muttered through gritted teeth. She shook her head. “And if I don’t, one of the other girls will. God forbid this gets back to Pop.” Becky opened the car door. “Get out. You’re coming inside with me.”
“No, I can’t. I’m a mess. What would I say to the boys?”
“Tate’s got them at movies tonight. It’s just me.”
When Emma continued to hesitate, Becky crossed her arms over her chest. “Listen, you’re coming in the house with me if I have to drag you myself.”
“I’m parked on the side of the street.”
“It’ll be fine.” Becky eyed Beau in the backseat. “What are you doing with him?”
“He wouldn’t let me go.”
Becky snorted. “Whoever said men are dogs missed the mark. Beau’s got true loyalty.”
Emma gave a half-hearted smile. “Tell me about it.”
Becky pulled Emma out of her seat and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Listen, we’re going to order in some Chinese or pizza or whatever you and the baby want. Then I’m going to call the girls. We’re going to have a strategy meeting about Aidan.”
Emma threw up her hands. “And just what do you hope to achieve? Hog tying him and forcing him to be with me? In case you missed the memo, he doesn’t want me! He’s made that abundantly clear not only by almost screwing another woman, but by not being able to tell me he loves me.”
“It’s not like this is the first time he’s done this, Em. Surely he’s told you about Amy?”
“Yeah, how he wouldn’t propose, and then she caught him with another woman and broke up with him.”
“Did he also tell you how he spent the better part of that year drunk and in and out of therapy because he had a nervous breakdown over what he did to her?”
Emma gasped. “No, he didn’t.”
“Hmm, I guess he also managed to leave out the part where he tried over and over again to get her to come back to him, but she refused? He finally had to give up when she married someone else.”
Emma could hardly believe her ears. Aidan had lied to her about what had happened with Amy. He had never allowed the true depth of his feelings for Amy to be known. “He never told me any of that.”
“I know my brother. He did what he did to you tonight to push you away, not because he wanted to screw another woman. He sabotages himself every damn time.” She grunted in frustration. “By the way he acts about relationships, you would think he was raised in some dysfunctional home by crack-heads or something.”
Emma leaned against the car and put her head in her hands. “I don’t think I can handle all this.”
Becky pulled Emma’s hands away and stared her in the eyes. “You’ve got to decide right here and now if you’re going to fight for him.”
“Me? Why the hell do I have to do the fighting? He’s the one who fucked up royally!”
“I didn’t say he didn’t, but fighting for him doesn’t mean you’re a doormat and go running back to his open arms, Em. It means you’re willing to put up with whatever bullshit it takes to get him to win you back.”
“You actually think he’s going to try?”
Becky grinned. “Oh yes. Tomorrow morning, maybe even tonight, Aidan Fitzgerald is going to rue the day he ever let you walk out of his life, and you’re going to get to enjoy every minute of it.”
35
Aidan sat in the pitch black living room for hours after Emma left. He would reach for his phone to call her and then stop himself. He would start to get up to go after her and then think himself a fool.
No, he wasn’t what she needed. He could never live up to her expectations of what a husband and father should be. They were both better off. He had wanted a way out for the past week, and he had found it.
Instead of feeling the relief he’d expected, he felt misery.
Freedom from the choking and suffocating emotions hadn’t come with Emma’s departure. Instead, they felt tighter around him than ever before. Defeated, he rose off the couch to grab a beer and his foot accidentally kicked the DVD case across the room. He left it lying there as he headed into the kitchen.
After snatching the six pack out of the fridge, he started back into the living room. His eye caught the plastic DVD case, and he stopped to pick it up. Tossing it on the table, he turned on the TV and started flipping through the channels.
It was after his third beer that the curiosity finally got to him. He took the DVD out and put it in the machine. The sound of the latest basketball game faded, and it was replaced by a thump-thumping echoing through the room.
His son’s heartbeat.
Frozen, Aidan stared at the grainy image on the television screen. The last time he had seen the baby it had barely resembled anything, a strange tadpole-looking thing. Now its features were prominent, its arms and legs flailing and its tiny mouth fluttering open and shut.
If he had been paralyzed by emotions when he felt the baby move, they were nothing compared to actually seeing his son. A part of him was growing strong and healthy inside Emma, a child he had promised his mother he would have.
But his son was gone, and so was Emma. He had thrown happiness away with both hands. Sinking down on the couch, he allowed the sobs to roll through him. The last time he had cried had been when he had lost his mother. Now he was experiencing another soul-crushing loss.
With trembling fingers, he reached for his phone. After dialing the familiar number, he brought the phone to his ear. “Please answer, please answer,” he begged.
“Hello?”
“Pop, it’s me. I’ve fucked up, and I need your help.”
* * *
To be continued in The Proposal
36
Emma Harrison stood back to admire her hard work and a brief smile of satisfaction flickered on her face. Somehow she had managed to perform the almost miraculous undertaking of transforming a dingy fourth floor conference room into an exquisite pink dream. She was especially proud of herself considering decorating and party planning weren’t exactly her forte. Of course when it came to creating the environment any mother-to-be would want for a baby shower, her position at one of the premiere advertising agencies in Atlanta helped a lot. Cocking her head, she noticed the It’s a Girl banner was hanging slightly to the left. After she fixed it, her fingertips smoothed over the pale pink tablecloth adorned with refreshments and colorfully wrapped presents for the upcoming a
rrival.
She blew an errant strand of auburn hair out of her face and tried smoothing it back into the knot at the base of her neck. Yes, this is exactly what I would want for my baby shower…if I ever get to have one. A stabbing pain entered her heart before crisscrossing its way through her chest. It was a feeling she was becoming all too familiar with as her thirtieth birthday loomed around the corner, hovering over her like a dark cloud while motherhood still evaded her—along with Mr. Right. Being husbandless and childless was all the more painful after her parents’ deaths. After losing her mother two years ago, she had sworn she would replace the love she had lost by finding a husband and having a child. Unfortunately, nothing in her life seemed to work out as well as she planned it in her head.
Struggling out of her thoughts, she flipped her watch—one that had belonged to her late mother—over to read the time. Only fifteen minutes before the guests, who were mainly her coworkers, started arriving. Okay, Em, it’s time to get your game face on. The hostess of the shower can’t let the green-eyed monster of jealousy consume her and cause her to go apeshit, flipping over tables and throwing gifts in a Hulk-like rage! Get a grip!
The pep talk did little to still the churning emotions coursing through her as she gripped the table until her knuckles turned white. As the silent tears streamed down her cheeks, she quickly wiped them away. Raising her deep green eyes to the ceiling, she thought, Please help me get through this.
“You know, I have a nail file in my desk drawer if you want to slit your wrists. It would be a hell of a lot quicker than what you’re doing now.”
Emma jumped and clutched her chest. She whirled around to see her best friend, Casey, smirking at her. She frantically swiped the remaining tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “Jeez, Case, you scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry. I guess you were just so lost in misery and self-loathing you didn’t hear me say your name.”
Ducking her head, Emma replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just checking to make sure everything looked all right before everyone gets here.”
Casey rolled her eyes. “Em, what were you thinking agreeing to this? It’s slow, emotional suicide.”
“How could I not? Therese is the one who got me the job here. She taught me everything I know. She’s gone through three rounds of in vitro fertilization. If anyone deserves a baby shower, it’s her.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t have to be the one to throw it. I mean, she would have totally understood—especially with everything that’s happened lately with Connor.”
Emma’s phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at the ID and grimaced. “Speak of the devil.”
“Is he still calling and texting nonstop?” Casey asked.
“Yep. Lucky me.”
“Let me answer. I’ll tell that asshat you’re going to get a restraining order or something.”
“He’s harmless, Case.”
“You just need to tell him to man up, grow a pair, and give you some sperm.”
A giggle escaped Emma’s lips. “As tempting as that would be, I’d better pass. The whole sperm/baby thing is what started this whole mess to begin with.”
Casey gave a frustrated grunt. “The very fact that you’re considering having someone donate sperm is ridiculous.” She placed her hands on Emma’s shoulders. “You are way too beautiful and sweet and amazing to give up on the dating world to have a kid.”
“Nice pitch there with the compliments. Have you ever thought of working in advertising?” Emma mused.
“Ha ha, smartass. I wasn’t trying to sell you anything; it’s just the damn truth. I don’t know when you’re finally going to believe it. Most of all, I want to know when the men around this city are going to get their heads out of their asses and see it too.”
Emma threw her hands up in exasperation. “Case, considering my biological clock is clanging, not just ticking, I think it’s a little late for all that.”
“But you’re not even thirty,” Casey protested.
“I know that, but I’ve wanted a baby since I was twenty. I want—no I need to have a family again. Losing my parents and not having brothers or sisters—” Her voice choked off with emotion.
Casey rubbed Emma’s arm sympathetically. “You’ve still got lots of time for babies, and the husband could still come a
Rolling her eyes, Emma said, “Might emind you of the idiot parade I have had the misfortune of going out with in the last six months?”
“Oh, come on, they weren’t that bad.”
“Are we grading on an extreme curve or something? First, there was Andy the”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“practically separated accountant whose wife tracked us down on our date and proceeded to go mental on him in the middle of the Cheesecake Factory.”
“Shit, I remember him now. Didn’t the cops get called?”
“Oh yes. I had to call Connor to come get me because they were both arrested for disturbing the peace.”
“So there was one bad seed in the mix,” Casey argued.
“Then there was the mortician who regaled me throughout dinner with the ins and outs of embalming, not to mention I think he had a pretty unhealthy attachment to some of his dearly departed clients.”
Casey made a gagging noise. “Okay, I’ll admit necrophilia could turn anyone off from dating for a while.”
“A while? How about a freaking lifetime, Case?” Emma shuddered. “Thank God it was only one date and he never touched me.”
“So two bad eggs. There’s a whole city of men out there, Em.”
Emma swept her hands to her hips. “And I guess you’re having selective amnesia about Barry the dentist?”
Casey scrunched her face up as if in pain. “Is he still in jail on those voyeurism charges?”
Emma bobbed her head. “Thankfully, the state is pretty tough on creeps who set up hidden cameras in the men’s locker room at the gym!”
“Well, those are the extreme cases.”
“Some of the other girls in our department think I need to write a book on bad dating experiences.”
“Now wait a minute, you’ve gone out with some decent guys, too.”
Emma sighed. “And the instant they realized I wasn’t going to bed with them before the appetizer arrived, they bolted for the door. If we actually made it through dinner, then the stench of my marriage-and-baby desperation drove them away.”
Casey grinned. “See, you’re going about this the wrong way. You need to give in to the idea of throwing caution to the wind and having mindless sex to conceive.”
“I don’t think so.” Emma shook her head. “Just because Connor bailed on the idea of sperm donation doesn’t mean I’m giving up. Somehow, someway, I’m going to have a child to love.”
Aidan Fitzgerald rubbed his blue eyes. He peeked through his fingers at the clock on the blurry computer screen. Damn, it was already after seven. Even if he wanted to finish the project, his brain was too fried. He could barely make out the words in front of him. He turned off his computer, secure in the thought that his recently elevated promotion to Vice President of Marketing meant he could wait until the morning and not have someone bitch at him for slacking off.
With a groan, Aidan rose out of his chair and stretched his arms over his head. He grabbed his bag and headed to the door. As he flipped off his office lights, his stomach rumbled. There was probably nothing to eat at the house, so he’d probably need to pick up something on the way. For a brief instant, he wished there was a woman waiting on him with a home-cooked meal. He quickly shrugged the thought away. A couple of meals weren’t worth the hassle of long-term relationships. In the end, he was much happier with begging dinners off one of his married sisters—at least until they launched into one of their tirades about how he couldn’t be a bachelor for the rest of his life and how, at thirty-two, it was time for him to settle down and have a family.
“Bullshit,” he muttered under his breath at the thought. The attract
ive cleaning lady down the hall raised her head.
She then gave him an alluring smile. “Goodnight Mr. Fitzgerald.”
“Goodnight Paula,” he replied. He smacked the button for the elevator, fighting the urge to close the gap between them and strike up conversation. He raked a hand through his sandy blond hair and shook his head. Talking to Paula would most likely lead to some tryst in the storeroom closet, and as much as he would enjoy that, he was getting a little old for those kinds of hookups.
The elevator jolted him down to the first floor. Heated voices met Aidan the moment he stepped off, causing him to grunt in frustration. The last thing he needed after working late and being cock-teased by the cleaning lady was to come up on some domestic dispute, and from the tone of both a man’s and a woman’s voice, that’s exactly what it was.
“Connor, I can’t believe you cornered me here at work,” a woman hissed.
“What was I supposed to do? You won’t answer my calls or emails. I had to see if you were all right.”
“I told you to leave me alone, and I meant it.”
“But I love you, Em. I don’t want to lose you.”
At the sound of scuffling, the woman’s voice raised an octave. “Stop! Don’t you dare touch me!”
The protective side of Aidan stirred at the woman’s tone, sending him barreling around the corner. “Hey! Get your damn hands off her!” he bellowed.
The couple startled at the sight of him. The woman’s tear-stained face flushed crimson, and she ducked her head to avoid Aidan’s intense gaze. Immediately, he recognized her: Emma Harrison, 4th floor advertising, and the woman he’d unsuccessfully tried to take home from the company’s Christmas party. From the way she refused to meet his eye, he knew she recognized him as well.
Aidan turned his attention to the guy, Connor, whose eyes were wide with fear. He hastily dropped his hands from Emma’s shoulders and took several steps back. Connor looked like he was ready to bolt out the nearest exit. Aidan then realized how intimidating he must appear with his fists clenched at his side, his jaw hard set. He tried relaxing his stance, but his blood still pumped so hard in his ears he couldn’t manage it.
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