by Marin Thomas
Okay, Dean. Enough is enough. Give the mic back to Jennifer. After a second hug, Steve stepped off the porch and Jennifer’s boss thanked the people one additional time for attending the ceremony. Then he handed a pair of scissors to Mrs. Benitos and she cut the blue ribbon across the front door. The crowd surged forward, forming a line on the front lawn. Jennifer’s boss motioned for her to join him in an interview with the media.
Aaron attempted to move nearer but stumbled into a baby stroller, jostling the toddler inside. Startled, the child cried out. “Sorry, ma’am.” Aaron smiled at the mother, then patted the little boy’s head. “Hey, fella, I didn’t notice you there.” The child screwed up his face and let out a bellow that could be heard three blocks away.
Above the din, someone shouted his name and several heads turned in his direction. Then all hell broke loose.
“That’s Aaron McKade! The president of McKade Import-Export.” A woman wearing three-inch heels wobbled across the lawn, holding the microphone a foot in front of her while the cameraman stumbled to keep up.
Aaron searched first for an escape route, but found none, then for his grandfather, who’d mysteriously disappeared. Chicken. With nowhere to run, he braced himself as the media pounced like a litter of playful kittens. Over the heads in the crowd, his gaze locked with Jennifer’s. Her wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression spoke volumes. This was a hell of a way for her to learn his true identity.
“Jennifer!” His shout drew more stares. Fifteen yards separated him from her; it might as well have been a mile. Unable to get to her, he hoped that she’d read the promise in his eyes to explain later. She offered a smile—nothing more than a quick curve of the lips—before she retreated into the house, leaving him alone with the media.
“Mr. McKade, is it true that you were a member of the construction crew that built this home?” a reporter asked.
“That’s correct.”
“Many businesses donate money to worthy causes. What made you decide to roll up your sleeves and lend a helping hand?”
Aaron spotted his grandfather leaning against the lemon tree across the lawn, watching with mild amusement on his face. “A very wise man put me up to this.”
“Would you consider doing this again in the future?”
“Absolutely. If the crew is willing to keep me.” He smiled. “I can’t tell the difference between a nail and a screw.”
“Joking aside, Mr. McKade, how did you like working for a woman?” The microphones inched closer.
“Ms. Alvarado is one of the most competent leaders I’ve ever had the pleasure of dealing with. She’s earned my respect and admiration for the way she handles her crew. I confess she’s taught me a thing or two about managing people.”
“Any difficulties with the language barrier?”
“Not that I was aware of.”
“Are plans in place to do more projects in Santa Angelita?”
“That’s always a possibility.” Now that Aaron had witnessed the positive impact that businesses could have on communities, he wanted to help more people. How, he wasn’t sure. He knew only that what had started out feeling like a jail sentence had turned into his path to freedom.
“Tell us more about the intern working for your company. How did the program materialize?”
“I believe I’ll let the intern answer your questions. Antonio!” He waved Jennifer’s brother over. Aaron grinned at the flash of fear that filled the young man’s eyes. Good luck, kid.
Thanking the media for covering the event, he excused himself and went in search of Jennifer. When he entered the house, he noticed a large crowd gathered in the living room, examining a pile of gifts. Others milled about, chatting in small groups and sampling the baked goods spread out on the dining-room table.
He considered waiting outside and catching Jennifer when she left the house, but decided the crowded house was preferable to more questions from the media. He didn’t have to wait long. Jennifer stepped out of the kitchen, Mrs. Benitos at her side, both laughing over a shared joke. When she spotted him by the front door, her smile faltered and he swore she winced.
Mrs. Benitos approached and held out her hand. He clasped her fingers, marveling at her elfin stature. She couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds with her clothes on. It was difficult to believe the petite lady had the strength and stamina to raise countless children over the years.
“Señor McKade, welcome to my new home.” She patted his hand.
“Thank you, Mrs. Benitos. I hope you and your children will be happy here.”
“Wherever there are children, I am happy. You must eat some food.” She dragged him to the table, then shoved a brownie into his hand. When he checked the kitchen doorway, Jennifer was gone. Which was probably best. Now wasn’t the time to talk. Tonight he’d drive over to her house and speak with her. Jennifer was a reasonable woman. She’d listen to what he had to say.
Wouldn’t she?
“SHE DOESN’T WANT to talk to you,” Jennifer’s sister insisted.
Aaron stood on the Alvarado front porch, feeling a momentary twinge of panic. “I—”
Delia opened the door and Aaron assumed he’d been invited inside. Instead, she slid past him. The door shut with a bang. Arms crossed over her chest, weight balanced on one leg, she asked, “Who should I say is calling? Aaron McKade or Aaron Smith?” “Smith” sounded like a dog’s snarl.
“I need to speak with your sister.”
Delia swung her weight to the other leg.
“Please,” he begged.
A disgusted sigh exploded from her chest and she threw her arms up in the air. “Whatever. I’m tired of being the gatekeeper.” She spun on her heel and disappeared into the house.
Shoving his hands into his front pockets, he paced back and forth.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
After five minutes and no Jennifer, he collapsed into one of the rocking chairs. Tapping his fingers against the armrest, he wondered how long Ms. Hardhead would make him wait until she decided to join him on the porch.
Fatigue gnawed his bones. The four days in Latin America had wiped him out, then he’d arrived home and had had to deal with his grandfather before crawling into bed and scrambling back out five hours later.
Following the ceremony this afternoon, he’d dropped his grandfather off at the airport, called the vet to check on Dog, then headed straight over to Jennifer’s to try to convince her to spend the night at his apartment. He thought they might stop for a steak somewhere, then make love.
He checked his watch. He’d give her ten minutes to get her cute fanny out here. If she didn’t show, he’d go in after her. Leaning his head against the back of the rocker, he closed his eyes. Might as well rest while he waited….
“AW, JEN. He fell asleep. Look, he’s drooling like a baby.” Delia giggled.
Jennifer smiled softly at the thin line of spit that dribbled from the corner of Aaron’s mouth. With his head cocked at an ungodly angle, he appeared vulnerable and huggable, like a big teddy bear—not the image the president of a major Los Angeles corporation wanted to project.
President. Why would a high-powered business executive work construction? She’d been correct when she’d pegged him as a suit-and-tie kind of guy. But she’d been thinking salesman or stockbroker, not the head honcho of a Fortune 500 company.
Forgetting her sister’s presence, she murmured, “What am I going to do with you Aaron Smith…McKade…whoever you are?”
Delia sighed. “Do you really need someone to tell you what to do with him?” Her eyes turned dreamy. “I wish I had one.”
Following her sister’s train of thought was like riding a roller coaster backward. “One what?”
“A Prince Charming.”
Prince Charming? There might be some truth to Delia’s assessment of Aaron. After all, he had rescued Mrs. Benitos by making a substantial monetary donation to Barrio Amigo’s construction fund. And of course her brother�
�s internship…
“If you can’t figure out what to do with him, holler. I have a few ideas.” Flashing a sassy grin, the brat disappeared into the house. The screen door shut with a smack.
Startled out of his catnap, Aaron popped upright in the chair and stared dazedly around the porch. When his gaze landed on Jennifer, his lips curved up at the corners. “Hi.”
His sleep-slurred greeting made her skin tingle. The idea of beginning each new day with Aaron’s gravelly voice in her ear…Don’t.
“Sorry about dozing off. Guess I’m wiped out.”
After grilling her brother about his and Aaron’s business trip to Latin America, she’d understood how grueling it had been for both men. No wonder Aaron was exhausted. A thread of unease wove through her and she hated that she couldn’t keep herself from pitying him. She wondered if she’d crossed his mind this week? Had he worried that she’d tossed in bed at night because she didn’t know where he was or if he intended to return?
“I imagine being two different people with two very different jobs would be a bit wearing.”
“About that…” He stood and, one cautious step at a time, approached her. “Let’s eat dinner out, then head over to my place.” He motioned to the house across the street, where a group of teens lounged on the porch steps, listening to music blasting from a boom box. “More privacy.”
“No, thanks. I’m not hungry.” As much as she yearned to spend time alone with him, she didn’t dare. How could she keep up her defenses in his apartment with his bedroom down the hallway? Avoiding his probing stare, she sank into the other rocker. “This is as good a place as any to talk.”
He hesitated momentarily, then returned to his seat and rested his arms on his thighs. Except for an occasional glance in her direction, he focused on the tips of his shoes. “From the moment I met you, I wanted to confess who I really was. But I’d made a promise to my grandfather that I’d keep the McKade name a secret.”
“The elderly gentleman you were with today was your grandfather?”
He nodded. “Pop celebrated his ninetieth birthday this year.”
Jennifer remembered noticing the man in the crowd. He’d had a mop of shocking white hair, but had stood tall and straight next to Aaron. “He doesn’t look a day over seventy.”
“Yeah, he’s in great shape. Aside from a few complaints about his arthritis, Pop gets around on his own. The old coot got it in his head that he’d somehow failed me and my brothers. He feels he’s been remiss in teaching his grandsons a life lesson.”
What would hers have been? Gullibility…stupidity…naiveté? How she wished someone had taught her some lessons before it had been too late…before her mother and brother had died. Pushing the memories aside, she asked, “What did your grandfather intend to teach you?” Despite herself, the old man’s plan intrigued her.
“Responsibility.”
Responsibility. For the past nine years she’d taken care of her father and siblings. She wondered what kind of life she would live if she had only herself to consider. “How is responsibility tied to construction work?”
“I think Pop wanted to get me out from under the watchful eye of my brothers so I could figure out what to do with my life. Take responsibility for myself and my future. At first I was ticked off.” He shrugged. “No one likes to be told he’s lacking. But after the shock wore off, I recognized a plus side to my grandfather’s plan.”
“Which was?”
“I had a legitimate excuse to get out of the office.”
Surprised by the comment, she asked, “You don’t enjoy being president of McKade Import-Export?”
“The job isn’t too exciting.”
“And pounding nails is?”
“Sometimes.” He flashed his silly grin, then his smile mellowed and his expression sobered. “When I joined your crew, I didn’t understand why I didn’t like my job—aside from the fact that my brothers bossed me around all the time.” After a pause, he added, “I admit I wasn’t much help building Mrs. Benitos’s home, but it was rewarding to see the good that came out of the whole process. Getting to know the crew and learning about their families. Meeting Mrs. Padrón and Dog. Your family. You. I realized that there was more to life than the almighty corporate dollar.”
Jennifer’s chest squeezed painfully. “But that corporate dollar is important, too. Without your company’s money, Mrs. Benitos’s home would be sitting unfinished.”
“True. But where’s the happy medium?”
Part of her wanted to shout, Enough! Enough talking. Enough explaining. Aaron had kept his identity from her, but he’d had his reasons. Those reasons weren’t meant to hurt or humiliate. No matter how she tried to convince herself that he’d committed an unforgivable sin, she couldn’t.
How could she remain angry with him when he’d done his grandfather’s bidding out of respect? When he’d helped an old woman and her dog? When he’d created an internship program for her brother that allowed him to pursue his dream of obtaining a master’s degree? When he’d almost made her believe she was worthy enough to reach for her own happiness in life?
Several minutes passed in silence, then he asked, “Is your father angry with me?”
How Aaron-like to care about her father’s opinion of him. “No.”
“Good. I insisted we try bowling next weekend.”
Oh, Aaron, why do you have to be so perfect? Give me a reason—one reason, damn it—to send you packing.
Unable to stop herself, she reached across the armrest for his hand. His grip was firm and warm, and she clung to his fingers, hoping his strength would fuel her own.
“I’m sorry, Jenny, that I couldn’t be truthful with you. Do you forgive me?”
Forgiving was easy. “Yes.” He blinked hard, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. “I forgive you,” she repeated.
The worry lines in his forehead smoothed out. “We’re okay now?”
No, Aaron. We ‘re not okay. We’ll never be okay. “I did a lot of thinking while you were gone this week.” Mourning, too. For him. For her. For them. The deep goodness in Aaron tempted her to risk everything, on the off chance he could heal her soul. Foolish girl…foolish musings. “First, I need to tell you that I care very much about you.”
The light went out of his beautiful blue eyes. “Exactly what are you getting at, Jennifer?”
I hate doing this to you. You deserve better. So much better. “You’re a really nice man—”
“Nice?” His eyes iced over. “A guy doesn’t appreciate hearing from the woman he loves that she thinks he’s nice.” Aaron bolted from the rocker and paced to the other end of the porch. He faced her, chest heaving, eyes flashing—magnificent in his anger. “That’s right, Jennifer. I said it first. I love you.”
“Oh, Aaron—”
“Don’t ‘Oh, Aaron’ me. You’re afraid to admit you love me. If I wasn’t confident of your feelings, I wouldn’t be here now.”
She didn’t have the courage to lie. She did love him. He deserved at least that before she said goodbye. “You’re right. I do love you, Aaron.”
His body relaxed and a warm glow chased away the cold in his eyes.
She had to put an end to this. That Aaron said he loved her had to be enough. “It won’t work between us.”
He tensed and his voice dropped to a murmur. “What won’t work?”
Lord, she was putting this man through hell. “Anything long-term.” A future. Marriage. Kids. A life together.
Aaron shifted his gaze to the teens across the street. A muscle along his jaw pulsed with anger and his hands tightened into fists. She ached to console him, but feared that if she reached for him, she would be the one receiving comfort. She didn’t deserve reassurance.
“Do I get a say in what’s best for us?”
“No.” She gripped the armrest of the rocker to keep from launching herself into his arms. Arms she knew would shelter, comfort, but could never protect her from the pain of the past.
“And if I ignore your request to stay out of your life?”
“Please don’t make this difficult.” Tears blurred her vision.
He crossed the porch and stood before her, wiped a tear from her cheek. “I swear to God I didn’t plan to make you cry.”
His declaration had the opposite effect, and an endless stream of tears rolled down her face. He knelt at her feet. Cupping her cheeks in his warm, callused hands, he pleaded, “Give us a chance, Jenny. We can be happy together.”
On the verge of caving in, fear took control and she lashed out. “We were good in bed, Aaron. But good sex doesn’t guarantee a lasting relationship.”
He dropped his hands from her face. “I’m not buying it. You already confessed that you loved me…remember?”
She fought to keep her chin from quivering. “I don’t want this to become ugly.”
He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and exhaled loudly. Then his shoulders slumped. Then his head fell. Then his fists uncurled.
Witnessing Aaron in the throes of defeat hurt more than she’d ever imagined. When he lifted his head and gazed at her as if she was his whole world, her mind screamed, How can he love me when my soul is tarnished and sooty?
The temptation to view herself through his eyes tugged at her until she threatened to splinter into a million fragments.
“I love you, Jenny. You have to believe that.”
I do. Everything in her ached to repeat the words to him, but she held them in her throat until she almost choked. “Our lives are too different—”
“Cut the crap. This isn’t an ethnic issue, or even about socioeconomic differences.”
Losing ground, she struggled to compose a snappy comeback, then he leveled her in one blow. “This is about you taking the fall for something that wasn’t your fault.”
Lord help her, but she refused to go down this road with him.
“I can fix you, Jenny.”
Livid with herself for failing to conceal her psychological hangups, she demanded, “You believe your love is strong enough to chase the demons off my back? That you can play God and magically cure me?”
“What have you got to lose? Maybe my love will heal you. Maybe not. But it’s free and yours for the asking.” His quiet declaration sucked the heat out of her fury.
