Come Home to Me

by Brenda Novak

  But Aaron wasn’t sure he could go behind Dylan’s back. What would Dylan say or do if he ever found out about this? And what would it be like to have a child, a child who didn’t know his true father?

  “You’re hoping I’ll help you have a baby but never say a word about it.”

  “To anyone. Yes.” She didn’t attempt to disguise any aspect of her plan. “You’d sign away your parental rights, be the baby’s uncle, nothing more.”

  So he’d have contact. He could have a lot of contact. But would that make it harder—or easier?

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “I want to say yes, but...I’m afraid this would just give Dyl and me something else to compete over.”

  “Which is one of the primary reasons I think this should be done secretly. That way there’ll be far less chance it would affect your relationship. He won’t have to feel indebted, and you won’t ever have to feel that he’s being ungrateful, because you’ll know he has no clue of the sacrifice you made,” she said. “You’d have to do it because you love him, and you’d have to relinquish all claim and forgo all credit.”

  Aaron let his breath seep out as he ran a hand over his chin. “Is there a clinic around here or...”

  “There are probably several. My doctor even suggested one. I just haven’t contacted anyone yet because I needed to know you were on board before I moved forward.”

  “How would it work?”

  She gestured at his food. “You should start on your steak. It’s getting cold.”

  He’d lost what little appetite he’d had when he walked in but made a halfhearted attempt to cut off a few pieces and chew, which was more than he could say for her. She merely pushed her salad around with a fork.

  “It must feel really strange to think of making a baby with me,” she said, “but...if you could just look at it through my eyes. I love you as my brother-in-law, so I’d be happy to know my child came from you. Of all the Amos boys, you look the most like my husband. And, sure, he could weather this the way he’s weathered all the other difficulties in his life, but why put him through that when we can so easily get around the need for it? I want Dylan to be happy. He hasn’t been himself lately.”

  Aaron struggled to swallow the piece of steak in his mouth. “You think this is why?”

  “I know it is.”

  Dylan had been uncharacteristically irritable and preoccupied. But...

  “I need some time to consider it,” he said.

  She took a sip of her iced tea, but her manner told him she was stalling while she decided how to spring something else on him.

  “Is that a problem?” he asked when she put down her glass.

  “That’s just it.”

  “What is?”

  “Time. There isn’t much of it. Dylan is talking about going to the doctor. And if he does...”

  “He’ll learn the truth.”

  He managed to chase his steak with a bite of his baked potato. “Maybe that’s for the best, Chey. I mean...I’d be open to this if...if the two of you wanted to meet with me later. It’s not that I begrudge you the... What you need to make it happen.” Or...he didn’t think so. He hadn’t quite wrapped his mind around that part of it, either. But he forged ahead. “I’m mostly worried about keeping this a secret.”

  “You’re not convinced it would work better that way? Since your relationship with Dylan is so...complicated? You know how humbling it would be for him to have to ask, and how indebted he’d feel afterward.”

  It was a legitimate concern. “How soon would you need my answer?”

  “You guys are so busy at work that I could probably give you a few days. He wouldn’t even be able to book an appointment before then. But the process will take several weeks to complete—to schedule with the clinic, to have the procedure done and see if it takes. If it doesn’t, we’d have to go through the entire process again.”

  “Would we go in at the same time?”

  “No. From what I’ve read online it could be completely separate.”

  “But...shouldn’t someone be with you?”

  “Presley will go.”

  He was glad. It was weird enough that he’d be donating the sperm. He didn’t want to take his brother’s place at Cheyenne’s side, as well. “You and Pres talked about this?”

  “I called her yesterday.”

  He cut off another piece of his meat before looking up. “Did she encourage you to ask me?”

  “Not really.”

  “She doesn’t think it’s a good idea?”

  “She’s worried about how it might affect you.”

  Unable to keep eating, he reached for his water glass, wiping off the condensation. “Even though she no longer wants to associate with me?”

  His sister-in-law squeezed his wrist. “That’s nothing personal, Aaron.”

  “It’s very personal,” he said, “and we both know it.”

  Giving up on her salad, she shoved her plate away. “She had the worst time getting over you.”

  “From what I’ve seen, she’s managed quite nicely. I haven’t heard from her once since she left.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t easy not to contact you. You’re a hard act to follow.”

  “But you think Riley can manage it.”

  She clasped her hands together. “Riley’s looking for a wife. You’re not.”

  He wasn’t opposed to getting married. He was at an age where he should settle down. He just hadn’t met the right woman. A guy needed to be in love to make that kind of commitment, but there were times when he wondered if his heart was even whole enough to give away. Maybe Dylan was capable of such complete devotion, but Aaron feared that part of him had been destroyed in the turbulence of his childhood.

  Or he’d been defective from the beginning.

  Taking out his wallet, he tossed sixty bucks on the table and stood. “I’ll call you when I decide.”

  “Aaron?”

  He glanced back.

  “It’s a difficult decision to make. I won’t hold it against you if you say no.”

  With a nod, he walked out of the restaurant.

  8

  It was Sunday night. Somehow she’d come through the weekend unscathed. Presley could hardly believe it. After running into Aaron at Ted’s book signing, then having him at the studio yesterday, he’d been on her mind so much she wasn’t sure she’d make it to Monday without breaking down and calling him. She’d never dreamed it was possible to crave another person so much. Every minute had been a battle—but she’d remained strong. She could breathe a sigh of relief and pat herself on the back.

  “It should get easier,” she muttered even though she was alone. Earlier, Chey had called to tell her about meeting Aaron in Sutter Creek, so he was, no doubt, preoccupied with that. If luck was on her side, the artificial insemination would keep him preoccupied until he moved away.

  Fortunately, she had other things to concentrate on, too. She’d spent the morning—until Wyatt’s nap—with Riley and his son, helping build the reception area. After they’d finished, Riley and Jacob stopped by her house. While she was grateful for all their assistance, being with Riley just wasn’t as...magical as being with Aaron.

  But their friendship was new. She couldn’t expect fireworks from the beginning, not even with an attractive, exceptional guy like Riley. The important thing was that she’d enjoyed herself. They’d laughed and talked while Jacob played with Wyatt, and Riley had flattered her by making a big fuss about the pie she’d baked for him.

  Presley could see herself in a relationship with Riley, couldn’t she? Why not? This time she was determined to choose someone who would be a responsible father instead of a man who was as broken as she was. Riley had asked her to join him for dinner on Friday, and she’d agreed. So she w
as at least going to give him a chance.

  She rocked Wyatt to sleep—she loved having a few minutes of quiet time with her baby at night—then changed into a T-shirt and a pair of sweat shorts before curling up on the couch with a blanket and Ted’s new book. Hot and Heavy promised to be his best work yet. But she’d read barely sixty pages when someone banged on the door.

  Surprised, she glanced at the clock Riley had helped her hang: ten-thirty. Who would be coming by so late?

  Carefully putting down her book, she crossed to the door and peered through the peephole.

  The sight of Aaron on her porch in a pair of faded jeans and an Amos Auto Body T-shirt hit her like a defibrillator. Aaron! Why was he here?

  She waited, hoping he’d leave if she didn’t answer. She wasn’t dressed for company. But he’d seen her like this before, many times, and when he knocked again, she couldn’t continue to ignore him, especially when he said, “Pres, I know you’re in there.”

  Cracking the door a few inches, she blocked the opening. “What’s going on?”

  His hazel eyes ran over her, making her even more conscious of the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He didn’t smile but something about his expression told her he’d noticed. It probably reminded him how familiar they’d once been with each other.

  “Can we talk?” he asked.

  His smile made her breath catch. At one time, she’d lived for that smile. “It’s late, and Wyatt’s asleep.”

  “I’ll be quiet.”

  When she didn’t move, he raised his eyebrows, and she felt herself weaken even further. Damn it. He held some power over her. “Fine, come in,” she grumbled, and stepped aside.

  “Why are you here?” she asked as she closed the door.

  He walked around the room, examining her things while she leaned against the wall.

  “Aaron?”

  “You’ve gone to a lot of work.”

  “The place was filthy, like you said.” Even now it wasn’t what she’d call nice. The house she’d rented in Fresno had been better, despite the surrounding neighborhood, but she’d had a roommate there to share the costs. This was clean and safe. Considering her other challenges, that was all she could ask for until she started making some money. “I’ll upgrade when I can.”

  He gestured at the books stacked in one corner. “These yours?”

  “They are.”

  “Since when did you become a reader?”

  Since she’d given up everything else. “In Fresno.”

  “That’s kind of a solitary activity, isn’t it?”

  When he’d known her before, she’d hardly ever picked up a book. Back then she’d thought life was all about partying with her friends, but once she turned her back on that lifestyle, books had provided her only solace, her only company—at times, her only hope. “It’s good entertainment, and it’s free—if you use the library.”

  He sorted through a few of the titles. “Thrillers?”

  “Mostly.” She couldn’t read romance, not without fantasizing about him. When she’d assumed she’d never move back to Whiskey Creek, she would occasionally permit herself to remember and imagine. But she knew better than to indulge in that sort of behavior now that circumstances had changed—and the object of her obsession was so close at hand.

  “Did you want to sit down?” she asked.

  “If I’m allowed.”

  She ignored his jab at her unfriendliness, and indicated the couch. “What can I do for you?”

  He threw her a look that said he didn’t like her brusque tone. “Can’t we just be...normal with each other? Is that too much to ask?”

  She sat in her orange chair. It was comfortable, but that was the best she could say about it. “What’s your interpretation of ‘normal’?”

  “We were friends, weren’t we?”

  “Maybe you’ve forgotten, because it was so meaningless and unremarkable to you, but we were more like friends with benefits.”

  “Ouch!”

  “The truth hurts. I was pretty much available whenever you wanted to make a booty call.”

  “You made your own share of booty calls,” he retorted.

  That was true. She’d shown up at his place whenever she thought she might get lucky enough to catch him in the mood, which wasn’t always a certainty with Aaron. “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “Why do you keep focusing on the physical? I don’t remember what we had the same way you do—I don’t see our...relationship as a bad thing. But even if I’m as lecherous as you think, I haven’t asked you to sleep with me since you’ve been back, so...where’s the problem?”

  “That’s not what you want? That’s not why you’re here?” she asked pointblank.

  He shifted on the couch and shrugged. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t like it. But I can take no for an answer. I’ll gladly pass on sex, if that’s what it takes to maintain the friendship.”

  “Then that’s why you’re here? For the sake of our friendship?”

  “I’ve missed you.”

  The fact that he spoke those words grudgingly heightened their impact instead of lessening it. Maybe she’d been handling this wrong. If she couldn’t get him out of her life until she agreed to be his friend, she’d agree to be his friend. Then he’d have nothing left to fight for, especially if he was telling the truth about his willingness to accept less than they’d had before.

  “Fine. We’ll be friends.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “That was too glib to be sincere.”

  She toyed with a lock of her hair. “And you’re more sincere? You missed me so much that you never tried to contact me!”

  “Whoa, I asked Cheyenne for your number several times.”

  “If you’d really wanted to see me, you would’ve figured out a way, Aaron. Fresno’s only a two-hour drive.”

  “I should’ve made more effort,” he admitted. “But you could’ve contacted me, too. What happened there?”

  “You know what happened there. I was starting over. So now I’ve done that, I don’t understand why we’re having this conversation. Is it because I’ve lost some weight? All of a sudden you think you’re missing out?”

  He grimaced. “Considering how much you used to care, you don’t have a very high opinion of me.”

  She was as aware of his strengths as his weaknesses; she just couldn’t focus on them. “You’re a great guy in a lot of ways, Aaron. No one’s more loyal or generous or kind to the unfortunate. But...”

  “Here we go,” he muttered.

  “I have a kid now. I have to take life seriously, have to protect myself from the type of man who wouldn’t be good for my son.”

  “And that’s me?”

  She’d had a few friends at the casino where she’d worked as a dealer, but those friends had lived outside of Whiskey Creek. He’d been her only regular companion here, so she could understand his surprise. “Are you interested in marriage? In starting a family?”

  “Is that the new stipulation?”

  “Yes.”

  He seemed tempted to continue their argument, but he must’ve decided to let it go because he changed the subject. “I met with Cheyenne today.”

  Presley wondered if she’d been too defensive. Maybe he’d come to talk about the artificial insemination. It wasn’t as if he could discuss it with just anyone. And that made her feel a little silly for possibly assuming too much. “She mentioned that to me,” she said, backing off. “How do you feel about what she proposed?”

  “I’m not sure. On the one hand, I can’t see any reason I shouldn’t help her out.”

  “And on the other?”

  He scratched his head. “Don’t you think it’s a big deal that Dylan won’t know?”

  She hugged her knees because it gave
her something to do with her hands and hid her chest from his view at the same time. “Wouldn’t you rather he not know?”

  “To be honest, yes. Except I hate feeling as if...as if we’re going behind his back. He’s my brother. Loyalty makes that hard.”

  She studied his troubled face. “Even if you’re giving him exactly what he wants?”

  “I would hate to find out in ten years that the son I’ve been raising, the son I thought was mine, actually belongs to him. I’m not convinced he’d call that ‘helping.’”

  The fact that the element of secrecy was such a stumbling block for him made the guilt Presley felt for harboring her own secret flare up. She’d been hard on him tonight, but she wasn’t blameless. “Why would he ever need to find out? As long as he’s happily unaware, everything will be fine.”

  She hoped the same rationale held true for Aaron. She’d certainly tried to convince herself of that—many times.

  “You can never rely on a secret remaining a secret,” he said. “For all we know, he and Cheyenne will divorce someday. If they end up in a custody battle, one that Cheyenne’s afraid of losing, what would stop her from tossing the child’s true paternity in Dylan’s face?”

  “That’s pretty jaded, Aaron.”

  “I have to consider the possibility, decide if I’m prepared to face the worst.”

  “Cheyenne would never throw you under the bus. Besides, they love each other so much I can’t believe they won’t make it.”

  “You can’t take anything for granted,” he insisted. “You, of all people, know that life is uncertain. Even if they don’t split up, what if the kid needs a bone marrow transplant? What if they test Dylan to see if he’s a match and the truth comes out? Or Cheyenne needs to get me involved?”

  “That wouldn’t be good.”

  “Exactly.” He stared at his hands, his expression pensive. “And if Dylan ever did discover the truth, he’d never forgive me, even if I did it because I was trying to help. There’s too much rivalry between us, too much competition. There always has been.”

  “You’re a lot alike,” she agreed. “But that’s why Cheyenne picked you. She wants a baby as close to what she’d get from Dylan as possible.”