Fit for Love (A Stand By Me Novel Book 3)

by Brinda Berry

  “Aiden?” Makenna calls my name.

  I get to my feet and walk quickly to the desk. “Yeah.”

  The nurse smiles. “Oh yes, I remember you two. He’s your fiancé, right?”

  Cocking my head, I give a half grin. It’s Nonna’s nurse from ICU. “That’s me.” I don’t bother to say she’s mistaken.

  We don’t have time for long explanations.

  The nurse exits the station and walks toward the doors into the back room where we’re to follow.

  I glance over my shoulder to see Jared standing a few feet away with his hands on his hips and fury in his eyes.

  He’s a man scorned and ready for a fight.

  Chapter Eight

  Pissing Contest

  Aiden

  The doctor examines Ryder’s head inside a curtained space of a larger room. I worry about the kid’s arm since he cried out earlier, but it doesn’t seem to hurt him now that we’re at the hospital.

  “Looks like he’ll need some stitches, five or six. It shouldn’t leave a scar.” Dr. Jenkins removes his plastic gloves and tosses them inside the waste container. “It’ll be quick and easy. You’ll be done in less than an hour.”

  Makenna grabs my hand. Her calm expression doesn’t give away a thing. Only, I know from our linked hands that she needs reassurance, so I squeeze gently.

  I didn’t understand until today what it’s like to be a parent. To worry that you could’ve protected a child from getting hurt. To dread even the smallest amount of pain that you wish you could shoulder in his place. And I only feel a one-hundredth of what Makenna must feel.

  How has she done this all alone? I release her hand and tug her in close to my side, my arm wrapping around her waist.

  Ryder sits wide-eyed, glancing between us and the doctor. The good thing about a three-year-old is a lack of vocabulary. He hasn’t a clue about stitches.

  Dr. Jenkins instructs a nurse to numb the area and he leaves to check on another patient, drawing the curtain closed behind him.

  “I’ll be right back in,” the nurse says to us.

  Makenna glances in the direction of the waiting area. “I’m not used to Jared being around.” She hesitates, then releases my hand. “I need to go out there and tell him everything is OK and the doc is doing stitches, but I don’t want to leave Ryder.”

  I’d almost forgotten about Jared. “You stay here with Ryder. I’ll go tell Jared. And I’ll let Gunner and Kiley know everything is fine.”

  My delivering Ryder’s diagnosis to Jared—no matter how I finesse it—will go over like telling one of my female clients at the gym that she’s gained ten pounds. I’m sure Makenna doesn’t realize he heard the nurse call me her fiancé.

  The nurse returns with a swish of the curtain and applies gel to Ryder’s cut. He freezes, his gaze moving from me to Makenna and then to the nurse.

  The sensation of the numbing gel must feel odd to him and he looks uncertain.

  “You have a brave little boy.” The nurse disposes of the gauze she used.

  I touch Makenna on the arm. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I need something for pain,” a familiar voice bellows. A man in the next curtained area cries like he’s lost a limb instead of having the achy big toe I heard him complain about in the waiting room.

  I want to tell him to grow a set of balls or he’s going to scare Ryder.

  Ryder’s eyebrows scrunch in protest when I take a step, and he holds his hands out to me.

  Something clenches in my chest that he cares whether or not I’m around. I’m not sure what to do. On the one hand, I need to leave and go to the waiting room. But he trusts me.

  I step to him and fold his fingers into a fist. Then I bump my fist against his small one. “Take care of your mom while I’m gone. I’m coming right back.”

  Makenna sits on the edge of the gurney-like bed. “Let’s talk about the horses. What was the boy horse’s name? I can’t remember…”

  Outside in the waiting room, I look for Jared but he’s nowhere. I head over to Gunner instead and sit across from them. “He’s fine and only needs a few stitches. Thanks for coming. I’d like to bring Ryder back to see the horses again sometime, if that’s OK.”

  “Anytime. I figured the cut wasn’t too bad.” He stands and Kiley gets up beside him.

  “Tell Mak it was nice meeting her and we should all go out together sometime.” Kiley grabs her bag from the chair and nods at Gunner. “You might as well take me to eat since we’re in town.”

  Gunner rolls his eyes. “Woman. Are you hungry again?”

  I’m jealous of their easy banter. Their companionship with one another is a visible blanket around them. I’ve never had that with a woman. Something that feels as easy as hanging around with the guys.

  I find Jared standing a few feet outside the entrance to the emergency room. He must think we were going to skip telling him anything, but it’s luck that I thought to search outside.

  “Hey, man. Makenna didn’t want to leave Ryder back there. She wanted you to know that he’s getting five or six stitches. He’s not even upset. It’s all fine. If you want to go back and see him, I’m sure you can.”

  “I had to step outside. Some people recognized me and I can’t have the press up here. If Ryder’s OK, I think I’ll let Makenna handle it.”

  In other words, he’s not coming inside. This guy isn’t winning father of the year anytime soon. What does it matter about the press? Then it hits me. The public might be clueless that he has a son.

  “I’m glad you came out to find me though,” he says. His eyes narrow. “I wanted to talk to you without Makenna.”

  I glance toward the building. I don’t want to stay gone longer than necessary, but I also don’t want him to think he’s intimidating me. “For a minute.”

  He rubs a hand over his trim beard and he studies me. “I don’t want to come across wrong, but I need to know about your relationship with Mak.”

  “That’s not your business.” My tone is even and non-confrontational since I don’t know enough about his relationship with Makenna to figure him out.

  He pauses. After a long minute that gets on my nerves, he says, “I have to be concerned, because of Ryder. Anyone who is around my son is my business.”

  “Right. But you should be having this conversation with Makenna. She’s the one making decisions about Ryder.”

  “And she’s done a good job. But I’m back now and I’m part of my son’s life. I’ll have a say in who she has around.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “She’s a smart woman. She can make her own decisions.”

  “Mak and I have known each other for a long time. I understand her demons. We’re more alike than you and she will ever be. Now we have Ryder and that’s something that ties us to each other forever.”

  “You’ve got it wrong. You’re Ryder’s dad and you’ll be tied to him forever. Sure. But that’s all. I’m glad we had this little talk,” I say and turn. “I need to get back in there now. She’s expecting me.” Not you.

  An ambulance pulls into the drive, making enough noise that I almost miss his parting shot.

  “She’ll break your engagement. She won’t marry you. You have no future together. I promise you that. You’ll find out the hard way.”

  He definitely heard the nurse call me Makenna’s fiancé. I push away the anger that makes me want to turn around and pummel his superstar face. It’s a fake engagement. You can’t break an engagement that’s not real.

  Even though it’s pretend, my feelings for her grow by the minute. The sliding glass doors close behind me and I stride through the waiting area and toward the consultation rooms.

  Once there, I step into the room and behind Makenna and place my hands on her shoulders in a comforting gesture. The nurse applies numbing gel to Ryder’s forehead again. Ryder squirms on the bed.

  “Hey.” I rub Makenna’s back for a second. “I thought the doc would’ve started by now.”

  “In a f
ew more minutes.” She turns and whispers. “I’m afraid he’s going to freak when he sees a n-e-e-d-l-e.”

  Looking back at Ryder, I can visualize this very thing happening. “Ryder? I have something on my phone to show you.”

  I pull out my cell and search for a movie. It’s a superhero action flick, and I pray it’s not rated for adults only, since I can’t remember much about it. I hold it in front of him. “Here it is.”

  Ryder sits up, but I gently push against his chest. “Relax. Let me show you.” I sit on the edge of the bed and show him my phone screen.

  Dr. Jenkins enters and talks to the nurse in a hushed tone.

  Although the area explicitly forbids cell phones, the doctor doesn’t say anything to us about it. Smart man. He’s probably dealt with more than one scared little kid.

  The numbing gel on Ryder’s forehead obviously did its job. I hold my breath as Dr. Jenkins begins. Ryder doesn’t even notice.

  The doc stitches the opening with six tiny loops before he pulls it tight and clips the end. The entire procedure takes seconds. He applies a large white bandage to cover the cut and gives instructions to Makenna on how and when to change the bandage.

  Ryder never looks away from the movie, his eyes taking in all the action on the small phone screen.

  “All done,” I say and press pause on the movie.

  “No.” Ryder’s brow furrows and he attempts to grab my phone. “My movie.”

  “We’ll watch it later, OK?” His gaze tracks my hand as I pocket my cell. Maybe he’ll forget about it once we get outside.

  Wrong. The kid has a memory like an elephant. While walking to the car, his little fingers press against my jeans pocket to check for my phone.

  Makenna smirks. “It was a great idea at the time. But you have no clue how persistent he can be. It’s his best and worst trait.”

  I shrug before I open the car door for them. “Ah. Best trait definitely. Mine, too. Kid’s going places.”

  Pulling my cell phone out, I find the movie and press play.

  I hand Ryder the phone so he can continue his movie. She buckles him into the seat. Once she’s in the passenger seat, she turns. “I forgot to ask about Jared. So, you told him and everything was… What’s that look? What?”

  I pull out of the lot and drive toward her house. “He warned me off.”

  Her mouth drops open. She begins to say something, then closes it and looks out the side window.

  “Yeah. I think he’s not over you.” I didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to start this. But I need to know.

  We drive without speaking. No reply from her about her ex. No radio. No made-up lyrics that Makenna may not even realize she’s singing. The nerves along my skin prickle in awareness of her and the tension between us.

  The dark night signals a close to our outing like a theater curtain coming down on a play. She’s in the shadows. I concentrate on my driving and try to stop glancing over at her. I’m not ready for it to end.

  “You’re wrong.” Her tired words hint of the history between them.

  “Convince me.”

  She pivots in her seat to look at Ryder and then back to me. “Can we finish this discussion at my house?”

  “Yes.” I’d almost forgotten about the little ears in the back.

  I need assurance, because I hate my uncertainty. I hate what Jared said. But most of all, I hate the way Jared said things—like he has a reason to be cocky.

  Chapter Nine

  Define ‘Thing’

  Makenna

  It’s not every day that you have the best and worst date of your life—best, because Aiden was perfect in that swoon-worthy way where a guy treats you like a princess and your kid like a prince.

  Worst, because only I would end a date in the emergency room. Poor Ryder.

  “Come on, Sweetheart. We’re home.” I unbuckle the car seat clasps and lift him out of the car. As soon as I put him on the ground, he runs for the front door.

  Aiden rests a hand on the back of my neck while I unlock the front door and deadbolt. I push the door open and look down at my little daredevil, the bandage on his head making me want to protect him from everything dangerous in the world.

  Ryder hops from foot-to-foot in a frenzy. I call this his pee dance. Stepping back, I get out of the way so he can go inside the house.

  “Whoa. Hold on big man. Ladies first.” Aiden puts one hand on Ryder’s shoulder, and signals for me to go inside.

  “No,” I say in a panic. “He needs—”

  Ryder freezes and his eyes grow wide. He emits a frustrated whine, sounding like a small motor wound tight.

  Too late.

  “What’s…” Aiden’s forehead wrinkles.

  We linger on the threshold, Ryder now in tears with his bottom lips quivering. His stricken face along with the bandage covering his forehead causes my heart to hurt.

  “It’s OK,” I say. “Go to the bathroom. I’ll bring some undies.”

  “I pee.” Ryder lifts his head and shoots Aiden a blaming look. Then, he wobbles into the house with his feet spread apart.

  Aiden stares after him with a baffled look, one eyebrow raised. “Is it always such an emergency when he needs the bathroom?”

  I forget. There are so many little things that someone outside of mine and Ryder’s world won’t know.

  “Most days.” I lead the way into the living area. “But we’re still training. It’s my fault. I should’ve asked him sooner. I guess I was preoccupied at the hospital. Make yourself at home.”

  I grab Ryder’s pajamas and nighttime pull-ups before following him into the bathroom. It’s hours past his bedtime.

  Ryder stands beside his potty chair naked—even though he’s too late to actually use it—where he holds his penis. He’s mastered getting undressed, a skill he sometimes demonstrates by running around the house nude. He also seems to like holding his junk.

  This must be a guy thing.

  “No,” he says. “No.” He releases his penis and points toward the living room. “No.”

  “Yes. I hear you.” It’s exhausting, the task of interpreting the needs of a three-year-old who uses the word ‘No’ to represent various thoughts.

  He whimpers and rubs his eyes. “No,” he says in a croak.

  “It’s OK. Accidents happen. And you’re cranky and tired.”

  “No.” Then he points vaguely in the direction outside the bathroom.

  I let him have the last word, even if it might be about Aiden. Taking a wet cloth, I wash him and check underneath the bandage since the doctor instructed me to keep the stitches dry. A bath can wait until the morning. In minutes, I have him dressed and tucked into bed.

  His dark curls and long lashes make him almost too pretty. It’s impossible to look at him and not think of his father tonight. Jared. The man only wants something when it belongs to someone else.

  I arrange the quilt over Ryder and tiptoe back. The bedroom is a mishmash of all Ryder’s favorite things—animals, trains, cars. Simple. No electronics or expensive gadgets.

  So opposite the bedroom at Jared’s house.

  I turn and go to the living room to find Aiden. He’s relaxed, his long legs crossed at the ankles and one of Ryder’s hardback storybooks in his hands.

  He lifts his head. “Hey,” he says low as if afraid he’ll wake Ryder. “Everything OK?”

  “Um…yeah.” I walk to the kitchen entrance and then back to stand beside a rocking chair. Uncertainty bubbles in my belly. If today was the tryout date, I’m sure we failed—an accident, a hospital visit, Jared acting like the asshole he can be. “Sorry that took so long.”

  Aiden pats the sofa cushion beside him. “Come here. I was fine. Getting in some reading.” He holds up the book. “Did you know this mouse never, ever finds his house? This is one stressful story.”

  I grin at Aiden’s fake alarmed expression. He’s so cute when he tries to lighten things and make me laugh. My world has been far too serious and full of mo
m duties and late bills for too long.

  “Let’s talk,” he says and pats the spot beside him on the sofa.

  “Maybe I should check on Ryder one more time…”

  “You’re stalling,” he says. He stands and steps toward me, taking his time until his body is inches from mine. “I’m not going to judge you about whatever you tell me.”

  I swallow past the lump lodged in my throat. “I really like you. I just don’t want you to think I’m a bad person.”

  “You couldn’t tell me anything that would do that.”

  What if I told you I’m a coward? Jared knows. He called me that and more.

  My daddy knew, too. If I’d been brave, he’d be alive.

  “Come on, then.” Aiden slips his hand into mine. “We’ll talk about something else until you feel like you can trust me.”

  “Talk about what?”

  He leads me to the sofa and tugs me down to sit. “I guess we’ll talk about me some more. You seem to like the topic.”

  “I do.” I snuggle in to his warm side with my cheek resting on his shoulder. “Why did you become a personal trainer?”

  “Let me see.” He drops his head back on the cushion. “I was this scrawny kid in school. I could run like hell, but I was thin. Gangly…all arms and legs.”

  “Ah…” I turn my head up so I can see his face. “So you bulked up so you wouldn’t get beaten up?”

  He laughs, low and amused. “No. But I did play football and was tired of getting sacked on the field. Plus, I liked feeling strong. It’s good to be healthy. It’s like you have total control over your body. Everything you do or don’t do affects the end result. You have something against my body?”

  I shake my head. “I think you know the answer to that.”

  He places his hand on my knee. “It never hurts to feed my ego.”

  “I think your ego’s thriving.”

  “Not in some ways. You won’t let me get to know you.”