Come Home to Me

by Brenda Novak

  “Baby furniture.”

  “You bought a crib?”

  “I figured we could move his old crib to my place, and you could have this nice one.” He turned the biggest box so she could see the picture on the side. “I also got him a bed for when he outgrows the crib.”

  “I see.” She looked from one box to the next. Besides the furniture, which included a set of drawers and a changing table, there was a swing-set, a trike, a batting tee and— “Is this a trampoline?” she asked.

  He hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “Yeah. Fun, right?”

  “But...he’s not old enough for a trampoline. He’s only been walking for four months.”

  “There’s a net that goes around it.”

  “He could still fall off!”

  “Not if I’m there to make sure he doesn’t. And he’ll grow into it.”

  She glanced through the window at the weed-strewn patch of earth between her rental and the back fence. “I don’t think I have room in my backyard for something like that.”

  “Then we’ll keep it at my house. There’s definitely room on five acres. It can go by the barn.”

  She opened a shopping bag that contained more sports equipment. All of it was brand-new, the best money could buy. “How much did you spend?” she asked in amazement. Talk about a shopping spree. All this stuff must have cost more than her monthly rent!

  “Don’t know.” He shrugged. “Didn’t add it up.”

  Which meant he didn’t have to worry about the amount.

  When she didn’t seem excited, he gave her a questioning look. “What’s wrong?”

  Aaron could provide Wyatt with so much more than she could. How would she ever be able to compete with him, especially once Wyatt got older?

  “Nothing,” she said, and forced a smile. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  “Are you upset?” Aaron asked.

  Presley poked at the lettuce in her salad as they sat in a booth at Just Like Mom’s. “No, why?”

  He slid some condiments around, trying to make more room on the table. “You’re quiet. I thought you’d be excited about all the things I bought.”

  “You got some nice stuff.”

  He leaned over and brought her face up with a finger under her chin. “You can keep any of it you want. Did you think I lugged it in just to show off? I figured it would make you happy.”

  She knew he was trying to cheer her up, but giving her all the things she couldn’t afford didn’t help. She was too jealous of what he could give their son. Aaron and Wyatt were already smitten with each other. She’d expected that to happen eventually. Who could resist Aaron or Wyatt? But...she’d also expected to be the center of Wyatt’s universe for a little longer. He and his father had only been together one afternoon!

  “I have enough baby furniture and toys,” she said. “I don’t need anything.”

  He held his fork midway to his mouth. “You’re kidding, right? What I bought is a lot better than what you’ve got.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “Da!” Wyatt was trying to get Aaron’s attention, but the way he relished his new word–and what it represented–made Presley feel worse.

  When Aaron glanced over, Wyatt opened his mouth wide, wanting another spoonful of Aaron’s tomato bisque soup.

  Aaron complied, then used his own napkin to wipe Wyatt’s chin as if he’d been feeding Wyatt since he could eat solid food.

  “I can’t believe he likes that soup,” Presley muttered.

  Aaron laughed when Wyatt smacked his tray. “He loves it.”

  “I can see that.” As she watched Aaron continue to feed their son, it felt as if Wyatt was already defecting. But that was nothing compared to a few minutes earlier, when they’d walked in and Wyatt had leaned over so Aaron could carry him. That had taken Presley by complete surprise—and heightened her worst fears. Once again, she’d been pushed out into the cold.

  She put down her fork.

  “Whoa, you’ve hardly touched that,” Aaron said.

  She pushed it toward him. He’d always finished whatever she left. She used to save part of her meals for him, just because she knew how much he liked to eat. “I’m not very hungry.”

  “Do you want a massage?” he asked. “I realize you’re the professional, but that means you probably never get one yourself. And I could give you one tonight while we watch a movie.”

  “I have a class first thing in the morning. I’d better get home.”

  He stared at her as if he couldn’t quite figure out what was going on. But then the waitress came with the check.

  * * *

  The workweek passed with agonizing slowness for Aaron. Maybe that was because he didn’t want to be at the shop. He didn’t want to be traipsing all the way to Reno, either, doing everything necessary to open the new business. He’d finally found a location he liked and was currently in negotiations on the lease, but he preferred to spend his time with Wyatt. As soon as he got off at night, he’d hurry home to shower and drive over to Presley’s, where he’d either watch Wyatt so she could work, or play with him while she was there.

  Wyatt had grown familiar with him–enough that he came running the second he heard Aaron’s voice. That was especially gratifying. But Presley had gone in the other direction. She’d become very withdrawn. Sometimes he’d catch her standing in the hallway, watching as he gave Wyatt a piggyback ride or tossed him in the air, but when he invited her to join them, she’d say she had to clean the kitchen or the bathroom or pay bills.

  One night when Aaron was there, Riley showed up and Aaron actually watched Wyatt while they went out. That was on Thursday. He thought he was handling the whole thing okay until he put Wyatt to sleep. Then he spent the next three hours pacing in the living room, wondering when she’d be back. There wasn’t much in Whiskey Creek, other than Sexy Sadie’s, that stayed open after eleven on a weeknight.

  When he finally heard voices at the door, he hurried over, planning to yank it open. He didn’t want Riley kissing her on the stoop—or anywhere else. But he caught himself at the last second and returned to the couch.

  “How was it?” he asked when she came in—thankfully, alone.

  “Fun. Sorry we were out so late. I know you have to get up early.”

  “I don’t mind helping out.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  She obviously expected him to leave, but he was tired of the strain between them. He’d been trying his best to be friendly. He’d even asked her out for Friday or Saturday, but she’d turned him down—said she’d probably have to work late both nights. He’d then reminded her that they were supposed to be doing the artificial insemination this weekend, if Cheyenne’s projections proved accurate, and she’d said she’d be available, which made him feel she’d just been making excuses.

  “I bet he liked that dress.”

  She glanced down as if she couldn’t remember which one she’d put on. “Oh, I’ve had this for a while. Cost me four bucks at the secondhand store.”

  “Looks good on you.”

  “Thanks.” She dropped her keys in her purse.

  “I mean it,” he said. She’d always had a nice body, but these days she could stop traffic—not that she seemed to notice or trust the extra attention.

  “I appreciate that,” she replied, but those words were as empty of conviction as the initial thanks. “How’d Wyatt do tonight?”

  “Grady came over. We taught Wyatt to say Uncle.” The one subject they should be able to discuss was their son. Wyatt had been such an incredible addition to his life, had given him the purpose he’d been lacking. But instead of drawing Presley closer to him, any mention of Wyatt and the fun they had or the things Aaron had taught him only seemed to push her further away.

 
“It’s great that he suddenly has so many men in his life,” she said.

  Aaron stood. “Really?”

  She didn’t look at him as she put her purse on the coffee table. “Of course.”

  “I’m not getting the impression you honestly feel that way.” She’d asked him to take almost everything he’d bought over to his place.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked. “I’ve let you see Wyatt every night. I’ve put no restrictions on your time with him. None.”

  “And I’m grateful for that, but...something’s wrong.”

  “No. I understand that you’ve only got...what? Five weeks? I’m trying to let you have as much time with him as possible.”

  “I’m not talking about Wyatt, damn it!”

  Her eyes widened. “What else could you complain about? What else do I owe you?”

  Not quite sure how to explain his frustration, he advanced on her. “You don’t owe me anything. I don’t want you to owe me anything. It’s just...sometimes you look at me as if...as if you still want me. But the second I try to respond, you do whatever you can to avoid me.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It’s absolutely true. When we went out the other night, you wouldn’t let me within two feet of you.”

  Her gaze shifted to her favorite chair, but sitting there meant she’d have to walk past him. “I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

  “The wrong idea about what?”

  “That we’re seeing each other!”

  “I thought we were seeing each other!”

  “Not in the way they might assume.”

  “Meaning we haven’t been to bed. But that was the agreement. I’m giving you what I believed you wanted—something official and respectable.”

  “Official?” she scoffed. “You never see any woman in that way.”

  “There’s always a first.”

  “And why would that first be with me?”

  “Maybe you don’t want to acknowledge it, but there are still a lot of...feelings between us.”

  She backed up as he came closer. “Aaron, there’ve never been any feelings on your side.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Trust me, I’d be able to tell.”

  “Then why does it drive me nuts when you go out with Riley?”

  Her mouth fell open. Obviously, she was surprised by the anger in his voice. But she couldn’t move any farther back. “I don’t know what you want from me,” she said.

  “Yes, you do.” He’d promised he wouldn’t touch her, not unless she asked him to, but he missed her too much, missed her more than ever now that he was seeing her every day.

  Slipping his hands around her waist, he lifted her up to meet his mouth. He expected her to shove him away. But once their mouths met and their tongues touched, she made a sound of submission, and his body instantly reacted.

  “There you go, Pres. Let me touch you,” he whispered. “I’m dying to touch you.”

  He wasn’t sure she believed that, either. She seemed suspicious of everything he said or did, but when she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, he knew she was going to take what she wanted—and that meant he’d get what he wanted, too.

  24

  He’d be gone in five weeks; she needed to take advantage of this opportunity. That was all Presley would let herself think—until she’d dragged him down the hall and into her bedroom. She’d wanted to join their bodies as fast and hard as that first encounter after she’d come home, when they’d been carried away by a tsunami of desire. But he insisted they slow down so he could take his time and make love to her “right.”

  That was when she started to have second thoughts. As long as he got what he wanted, why would he care about slowing down? He’d never troubled himself before. He’d always been a good lover, always made sure she was as fulfilled as he was by the end, but he’d do that for any woman he was with.

  Tonight he was taking their encounter so seriously that she could easily get the wrong idea, easily believe that it might be more significant than it was, and that frightened her. It was a delusion. Somehow she had to keep from falling into the same pit of false hope she’d escaped these past two years, and she didn’t see how she could do that with the emotions that were pouring through her.

  She would’ve stopped him. She sensed the danger and had finally regained the presence of mind she’d momentarily lost. But she’d waited too long. She didn’t want to be a tease, someone who’d get a man this excited and then bail out at the last second. She’d always delivered before; of course he’d feel he could depend on her. So she tried to detach her mind instead. This couldn’t mean anything to her. She couldn’t hang on every kiss, every sigh, every touch.

  It’s just physical sensation. Mutual pleasure. There’s no meaning behind it.

  But he noticed the change in her right away, and forced her to look up at him.

  “What’s wrong? Where’d you go?”

  She wouldn’t explain, couldn’t explain. Revealing her conflicted emotions would make her that much more vulnerable. So she gave him a devilish smile, urged him onto his back and made sure he couldn’t think of anything except her tongue moving over the most sensitive part of his body.

  Despite that, he tried to stop her at the last second. He held her head and gasped that he wanted to finish inside her. But she told him that would be too risky, that it could result in another pregnancy even if they used a condom, and pushed him over the edge.

  After that, she had no compunction about sending him home. He couldn’t complain that she’d somehow misled him, since she’d given him what he’d been hoping for. So she got up immediately and retrieved his clothes.

  “Thanks for watching Wyatt tonight,” she said.

  He made no move to take the articles she held out to him. “That’s it?” he said. “What about you?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

  “It’s not like getting you off is a chore. And leaving you unsatisfied is not how I want this to end.”

  “I’m fine, like I said. I’m just...not in the mood, that’s all.”

  “You were in the mood a second ago.”

  “I’m tired.”

  He seemed completely baffled. “But you wouldn’t have to do anything!”

  “You’ve got to be tired, too. And you have to work in the morning.”

  Still, he didn’t move. “Have you decided you’d rather be with Riley?”

  Usually when he spoke of Riley she could detect some jealousy, even a little arrogance—Aaron’s competitive nature coming out. But when he asked this question, he sounded like a hurt little boy. Was there some fear, or maybe shock, in there? Or was she imagining things again?

  He was probably just trying to make sure she couldn’t later accuse him of being a poor lover.

  “I haven’t slept with Riley,” she said.

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “I don’t know who I’d rather have in my bed. I’m not in that type of relationship with anyone.”

  He took his clothes, but tossed them back on the floor. “Come here. If you’re tired, we’ll just sleep.”

  She didn’t want him to stay. She’d have to be on her guard for the rest of the night if she had him in her bed. But he pulled her down next to him, and even though she faced away to sleep on her side, he wrapped his arms around her.

  “You can’t stay overnight! Riley might see your truck here when he drives to work in the morning,” she said, fighting her natural inclination to sink into him and cuddle.

  “Relax.” His hand was already sliding down her stomach. She stopped him before he could reach his target, but when she woke up the next morning, he held her arms above her head and worked such wicked magic
with his mouth and fingers that she was gasping his name and begging him to take her.

  “I thought you weren’t interested,” he said.

  She stared helplessly up at him but refused to speak. She’d always been interested, but why give him the pleasure of admitting it?

  “Come on, tell me what you want,” he coaxed.

  Pursing her lips, she shook her head, and he frowned.

  “You don’t play very nice these days.”

  “I let you into my bed.” Although she was trying to sound as if she was in control of herself, her voice was thick with desire. “What I gave you last night was pretty nice.”

  “I can’t argue with that, but I’ve never been one to settle for less than I want. So let’s see what we can do to make you a little more...pliable.” Lowering his head, he brought her to the brink of climax—then stopped and grinned up at her. “I’m asking you again. What do you want?”

  Her body was quivering with anticipation. He had her so worked up it was impossible to deny him. “I want you,” she admitted.

  He raised his eyebrows. “You could’ve said that less grudgingly.”

  She swallowed hard but added nothing else. Although it was a small rebellion, to her mind it was an important one. But she knew he wasn’t going to settle for that when he licked his finger and ran it over the tip of her breast. “How badly?” he breathed in her ear.

  She glared up at him. “Quit torturing me.”

  “I’m more than willing to give you anything you want. As soon as you tell me how much you want me.”

  “You know how much.”

  He covered her but didn’t take it any further. “More than Riley?”

  She closed her eyes. “Yes.”

  “About damn time you admitted it.” He made a show of putting on a condom. Then he paused to stare down at her, and she thought she saw something unusual in his expression, something far more possessive than she’d ever seen there before. But she couldn’t rely on anything that happened in the throes of passion, when emotions were often exaggerated or distorted. She knew that from experience. She was too far gone to correctly analyze what he might be feeling, and he didn’t give her much time before he finally drove inside her.