Not Through Loving You

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Not Through Loving You Page 12

by Patricia Preston


  Toying with another piece of foam, Lia said, “Dallas and I are not a couple. Everyone thinks we’re together, but that’s not true. It hasn’t been true for a few years now, but there’s a lot at stake, so we’ve kept the truth a secret.”

  Her words stunned Aaron. “Why would you do that?”

  “It’s the music. It’s everything that we are.” She shrugged and stuck the foam in the box. “Music is all I know. It’s my family legacy, and my father, Julian Montgomery, lives and breathes the music industry, just like his father did. I grew up going to the studio with them. I went to a boarding school where all the kids came from families connected to the music industry. All my friends are musicians, singers, or connected to the business in some way.

  “My father hoped I would be a star, and I was groomed for that. By the time I was eight years old, I was singing on stage,” she said. “I can sing, but my voice isn’t really special. I don’t have the kind of unique voice that stands out, and I don’t have what I call star quality.”

  Aaron nodded. He understood star quality and the lack of it. He had been a terrific ballplayer with great coordination and a steady fastball, but the players who made the major leagues were like Olympians compared to him.

  “Dallas has star quality. He has the voice and the charisma you need to make it to the top. I knew he was special the first time I ever saw him.” She picked up a sheet of flimsy plastic. “It was like love at first sight for us, and I think it was the star in Dallas that I loved. I couldn’t wait for my father to meet him. I knew Dad could make Dallas into one of country’s top singers, and he did.

  “My father works with a publicist who creates brands for singers. I became part of Dallas’s brand. We were twenty when Dallas sang one of the songs I’d written, and it hit number one on the charts. We became known as country’s young sweethearts, and our songs were about our love for each other.

  “The fans loved us for that, and in the beginning, it was true. I wrote about us, but many times when I referred to love, I meant the music. The emotion of it. Even to this day, I still get overwhelmed sometimes when Dallas sings my songs.” She stopped for a moment as if she were a little overwhelmed now. “It’s like the purity of his voice reaches deep inside my soul where those songs are born. It’s such a magical experience that I can’t describe it.

  “It’s addicting,” she added. “All of it. The concert halls. The tours. Walking the red carpet. The money. Being part of his success. Seeing my father so proud of us.”

  “Addiction never ends well,” Aaron said as Lia stuffed the plastic in the box. “What went wrong?”

  “A few years ago, Dallas wanted to get married, and I didn’t.”

  Her admission left Aaron speechless for a moment. “Why not?”

  “By then, we had both changed, and the only thing holding us together was music and the lifestyle. In my heart, I felt as if that wasn’t enough. It would be like if you were having a relationship with a woman who was a doctor, and medicine was the only thing holding you together.”

  “That wouldn’t work.”

  “Dallas and I have stuck it out together because there’s a lot at stake. Dallas’s career is everything to him, and a lot of other people depend on him for their livelihood—band members, bus drivers, equipment guys, and so on. Plus, there are the fans who believe in me and Dallas.

  “Most of all, we’ve stuck together for my father because neither one of us wants to disappoint him. Dallas’s father died when he was a little boy, and my father became like a father to him, a mentor. If Julian Montgomery had gotten to choose a son, it would have been Dallas.”

  “You’re sticking with a guy you don’t love for your father?”

  “I don’t want to let him down, but that day is coming, sooner rather than later. Dallas has met someone, and he’s fallen in love with her. I can’t say that I’m surprised or that I blame him.”

  Aaron frowned. “He’s seeing another woman?”

  She gave him an uneasy glance. “Yes. Of course, that’s something no one knows about. When the two of us go public with a breakup, it has to be amicable and orchestrated carefully.”

  “You’re right. I don’t understand.” Infidelity was not something he would tolerate, regardless of the situation. “Holy shit, Lia, he’s having an affair and you know about it?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve always known. He’s with her now.”

  Aaron stared at her in disbelief. “That’s just wrong. Trust me. I know how wrong that is.”

  She gave him a curious glance. “An affair ended your marriage?”

  “She went back to her ex.” Aaron shoved away from the crib. “The moment I found out about the two of them, it was over. Finished.”

  “I’m not married to Dallas.” She gathered up the last of the foam pieces. “Our relationship had ended long before he met her. The only thing that concerns me is that some photographer is going to catch the two of them together. That will be a PR disaster.”

  Aaron tried to rationalize what she was saying. He supposed there was a different set of rules for celebrities, but he didn’t like those rules. “So you and Dallas are okay with pretending to be in love while he’s screwing around with another woman?”

  Lia stuck the pieces of foam in the shipping box. “That’s not what’s going on.”

  “From what you’ve said, that’s exactly what’s going on.”

  “It’s a lot more complicated than that.”

  Her words set off a warning inside him. Molly had used the word “complicated” to describe her relationship with her ex-husband. Complicated equaled unresolved emotions that could range from loathing to longing and back to love again. Mostly, complicated meant it wasn’t over.

  It hadn’t been over for Molly even when she let Aaron put a ring on her finger. For a while, she had been happy just the way Dallas Peyton was happy now with his new love. Nevertheless, things had changed.

  “Someday he’ll want you back.” Aaron said those words to Lia, but he was actually cautioning himself. He couldn’t let himself forget the lessons he had learned the hard way.

  “No, Aaron, he won’t.” She spoke in a voice that was low and certain. “Whatever we had in the beginning is gone. Love is like a song in the rough. One where the words are pure and they come from the heart. A song meant to be sung without embellishment. No instruments, no studio, no production team.” She gazed out the window. “We had such a song, but we lost it amid all the ambition, stardom, and wealth. It became something that wasn’t real.”

  He stood beside her at the window, unable to resist stroking the small of her back. “How long are you going to keep living a lie?”

  “The eighteenth.”

  Her direct answer took him by surprise. “Is that a day?”

  “Yes,” she answered as she shifted toward him. “The eighteenth of this month. My father will be back from Europe that weekend. Dallas and I are going to tell him then. We already agreed on that.”

  “That’s the right thing to do.” His gaze lowered to her mouth.

  “I hope you’re not thinking about sex.”

  He grinned. “How did you know?”

  “There’s something rubbing against my thigh.” She gave him a quick kiss. “I’m starving. I drove to Memphis to get the bear, and I didn’t stop to eat,” she explained. “I’m like Baby John. When I’m hungry, I want to eat, or I get very fussy.”

  “Well, I don’t want to take a fussy woman to bed.” He gave her temple a kiss. “Tell you what, we’ll go someplace for an early dinner, and afterward we’ll stop by the hospital to see John Aaron, and then we’ll come home and have sex.”

  She laughed. “I’m all for dinner and going to see the baby,” she said as she shifted away from him. “As for the rest, I’ll have to give it some thought and get back to you.”

  Chapter 9

  Lia followed Aaron off the elevator at the hospital. Dinner had been great. He had taken her to an upscale restaurant called the White Lily wh
ere they didn’t have to wait for a table. Not at four forty-five in the afternoon. Besides a few elderly couples, the main dining room was practically empty.

  As they were escorted to their table, Lia noticed some of those couples giving them an admiring glance as if they made a striking couple. She thought Aaron was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome in a gray linen shirt and black trousers, and she complemented him in her simple black A-line dress and silver jewelry.

  While they enjoyed grilled salmon and sipped pinot noir, they kept their voices low as they had a lighthearted tête-à-tête about sex with Aaron making the case for sleeping with a doctor.

  “You know, doctors spend years studying human anatomy.” He shot her a confident smile.

  “And that gives you an advantage?” Beneath the table, her foot rubbed against his ankle.

  “It does. The human body is complex.” He grinned. “Much more so than a cow or a horse.”

  “A cow or a horse?” she repeated with a laugh. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying you might like me better than an outlaw.”

  “I do like you better.” The words rolled off her tongue without hesitation.

  The amusement left his blue eyes as he looked across the table at her. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah,” she admitted in a quiet voice. He reached across the table to hold her hand. If romance were a rose, it had just blossomed between them.

  And that romance was in full swing now as she watched Aaron remove the rainbow blanket from the top of Baby John’s incubator. “Hey there, buddy.” Aaron unlatched the side panel of the incubator, and the baby splayed his arms in the air as if he expected Aaron to take him. “Daddy’s here.” Aaron put a beanie on John.

  She stood to the side as Aaron unbuttoned his dress shirt as he prepared to do kangaroo care. Her gaze drifted over the firm muscles of his chest and abdomen. Anticipation hummed inside her as she considered the possibility she’d be running her hands over his chest later that night. Plus other places. To distract herself, she retrieved a rolling stool and sat on it.

  Aaron took the baby from the incubator, and being careful with the monitor wires, he placed John Aaron against the upper right side of his bare chest. Like someone who had crawled into their favorite bed, the baby closed his eyes in contentment as Aaron covered him with the blanket.

  As Aaron rocked the baby, a gush of hormones made Lia squirm on the stool. The dark-haired doctor holding the tiny baby against his chest was the sexiest thing ever. It had to be the ancient DNA in her responding to the alpha male protecting his offspring. She rolled her stool over to the rocker because she wanted to be in the picture, too. Parked beside the rocker, her shoulder brushed against Aaron’s as she looked at the baby sleeping against his chest.

  “I’m glad his X-ray was clear,” Aaron said. “I’d hoped to remove his central line and move him to the special-care nursery this week, but he still has a low-grade fever, so I’m keeping him in the incubator for a couple more days.”

  She smiled as she tried to get a look at the baby’s face. Aaron moved the edge of the blanket that brushed across Baby John’s face. “His cheeks are filling out.”

  Aaron laughed. “Yeah, he’s getting a little chubby. He puts away formula the way you put away that salmon.”

  “Hey.” She gave his arm a playful slap. “I told you I was starving.”

  “I’m glad you’re full now.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re gonna get laid tonight, Doc.”

  He tilted his head toward her and whispered, “You know they can hear you.”

  “What?” She slapped her hand over her mouth as she recalled the closed-circuit cameras in the nursery that fed into the nurses station. “Ohmigod.”

  He laughed so hard the baby squirmed. He patted Baby John’s back, and she looked into his eyes. A girl could get lost in that ocean of blue. She leaned close so her words were only for his ears. She sang, “I’m gonna hold you tight and make you mine tonight.”

  He whispered back, “If you keep that up, we’ll end up in the supply room.”

  “The supply room?” It took her a moment. “Oh, you mean here in the hospital.” Her eyes widened as she pictured Aaron having sex in a supply room. “Aaron, do you have supply room experience?”

  He ignored the question by shifting attention back to the baby. “He weighs four pounds and three ounces now.”

  “I was wondering, since you didn’t choose the name Baby John in the first place, if we might consider another name for him.”

  “Another name?”

  “John Aaron is a nice name. It’s not that I don’t like it, but I was thinking about something a little more exciting.”

  “Exciting?”

  “Yeah. Like Coleman Montgomery Kendall. Isn’t that a great name?”

  “No,” Aaron stated flatly. “We’re not naming the baby after an outlaw.”

  “Montgomery is my name,” she reminded him. “Cole Montgomery. That’s a sexy name.”

  Aaron spoke to the baby resting against his chest. “Your aunt Lia is out of her mind.” Then he looked at her and shook his head. “Sexy? He doesn’t even weigh five pounds.”

  “Girls will love that name.”

  “No.”

  She took a moment. “What about Jesse Aaron?”

  “We’re not naming him after Jesse James either.”

  “You know, Cole Younger had a brother named John. He was killed by Pinkerton agents.”

  Aaron rolled his eyes. “Listen, I’ve let you decorate the nursery and pick out furniture for the house, and I even bought that painting you and Dad had to have, but I’m not changing the baby’s name.”

  “You don’t like the wild mustangs?” She couldn’t believe that. “It’s perfect with the stone fireplace and the rustic beams. I think it really makes the room, and it would be great if we could find a pair of antique lanterns for the mantel.”

  “I like the painting fine—” Aaron stopped suddenly. “John?” He bolted from the rocker. “Hit the red button on the wall,” he told Lia as he pushed the hood of the incubator out of his way and put the jerking baby on the mattress.

  In a panic, Lia hit the alarm. “What’s wrong?”

  “Go to the waiting room,” he ordered as Helen came running toward the NICU pod, followed by three other nurses. “I need an EEG stat and a spinal tap tray.”

  One of the nurses took Lia’s arm and rushed her toward the doorway of the nursery, along with another set of parents who had been visiting their baby in the special-care area of the nursery.

  “What happened to the baby?”

  “Dr. Kendall will be out to talk to you later.” The nurse closed the door.

  In the small waiting room where untouched magazines lay on a pier table and the coffee made early that morning had gone stale, Lia struggled to overcome her shock. On the brink of tears, she took a seat in one of the waiting room chairs and refused to let herself cry because everything was going to be fine.

  Baby John’s going to be fine because Aaron won’t let anything happen to him. If she were ever certain of anything, she was certain of that. She drew in deep breaths and expelled them as she kept positive thoughts in her heart. The baby was going to live. Whatever had happened to him, Aaron would take care of it. Baby John was in the best of hands, and that knowledge was a comfort as she sat alone and waited.

  It seemed like forever. People came and went on the elevators. A cart of dinner trays rattled as an employee rolled it down the hall, and the window in the waiting room grew dark as the sun set on Friday, July third. Tomorrow was Independence Day, a time of celebrations, parades, and fireworks. She had been scheduled to be on a songwriting panel tomorrow at the Lone Star Music Festival until her sister’s death had changed everything.

  As she heard the wail of an arriving ambulance, she thought of Candace and the baby left behind. She started to sing “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” a song she considered one of the most beautiful songs ever written
. She had always found comfort in songs, and tonight she needed a bridge over troubled water.

  She sang softly to herself. An older man came in the waiting room and listened to her as he made a fresh pot of coffee. “One of my favorites,” he said as she finished.

  “Mine, too.”

  The man filled a foam cup with coffee and handed it to her. “You look like you could use it.”

  “Thank you.” The man left the waiting room. She took a couple of sips of coffee and set the cup aside. She didn’t know what time it was. She had left her purse, which contained her phone, in Aaron’s vehicle. It seemed like she had been waiting for hours, but she knew it hadn’t been that long. Maybe an hour or so.

  Restless, she reached for a woman’s magazine on the coffee table. Reading might help pass the time. She glanced at the cover and read the title of a feature article: “How to Know If He’s the One.”

  Images of Aaron popped into her mind. Dribbling a basketball. Washing her car. Studying a medical journal. Rocking his baby. He had never stood in the spotlight. He had never brought an audience to its feet. To her, he was more than that. He loved his country home, quiet evenings, being with his family, and living the kind of life she’d written songs about but had never experienced until now. He was the doctor who had become a bridge over troubled water for an unwanted baby. How could she not love him for that?

  She wished she had the rose quartz that Gilda had given her. The stone of comfort and peace that heals emotional issues and opens the heart to love. Of course, it was all in what you believed.

  “Lia.” Aaron walked into the waiting room, and she hopped to her feet. Fatigue engulfed his tall frame, causing his shoulders to slump. She wanted to smooth the wrinkles from his shirt and the worry from his face.

  “How’s the baby? Is he okay?” She struggled with the fear that tightened its grip on her heart.

  “Yeah.” Aaron let out a deep breath. “He’s having seizures. A seizure is caused by abnormal electrical discharges in the brain, and they happen often enough in preemies whose nerve connections in the brain haven’t matured yet,” he explained. “Sometimes a febrile seizure, which means John Aaron had a fever spike when he had the seizure, is related to an infection. And there are other reasons such as metabolic problems.

 

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