by Brenda Novak
“I don’t need Dylan and Cheyenne to be there. But I’d like you to understand something.”
“And that is...”
Part of her felt she should tell him about Aaron. Her conscience dictated it. But she was afraid he’d tell Cheyenne what she’d said. “I’ve done some things in my life that you wouldn’t approve of. I’m not proud of them myself.”
“We’ve been over this—”
“You’re not getting it! I thought I was ready for someone like you, that I’d become...better. But that’s not really the case.” She hadn’t intended to blurt that out, to reveal her honest doubt, but there it was: maybe she wasn’t capable of changing as much as she’d hoped.
“Presley, it seems to me that you’re trying very hard to be a good person.”
“I am,” she agreed. She’d tried so hard. She’d given up drugs and alcohol and, until Aaron last night, even sex. After her mother died, she’d moved away and started over, had rebuilt her life step by painstaking step without any support, except for what Cheyenne could offer from a distance. Now she worked out on a regular basis, watched what she ate and lived a neat and organized life. Most importantly, she did everything she could to take care of her child. But she was powerless to resist Aaron—much as she’d hoped otherwise when she moved back. And that was a fundamental flaw that would interfere with dating other guys.
“Then I don’t understand the problem,” he said.
“You’re better off with someone else.” She hit the End button, but he called right back.
“That’s bullshit,” he said. “I’m picking you up on Friday at six, so make sure you’re ready.”
She blinked in surprise when he disconnected before she could respond.
“That’s the second time I tried to warn you,” she said with a sigh. But it was only dinner.
* * *
When Aaron saw Presley pushing a stroller toward him, wearing a white shirt with a pair of cutoffs, he felt his chest tighten. She looked so wholesome and healthy, so in control of all the demons that had once defeated her. He couldn’t help being proud. The transformation couldn’t have been easy, yet she’d done it in two short years. And she’d done it because of the love she felt for another person—her son—which said a lot about her as a person.
Of course, she still had her panther tattoo and a hard “I’ve walked through fire and lived to tell about it” edge, but she’d had to be tough to survive. As far as he was concerned, that only made her sexier.
He’d suggested picking up his wallet at her place, but she’d refused to let him come by. Instead, she’d arranged to meet him at the park, next to the giant statue of a forty-niner panning for gold. He got the impression she was afraid to be alone with him.
She gave him an uncertain smile and pushed her sunglasses higher on the bridge of her nose as she parked the stroller and stepped around it. “Hey.”
He couldn’t stop himself from checking out her legs. She wasn’t very tall but she’d always had shapely legs. “Hey.”
“It’s nice out tonight, isn’t it?”
He squinted at the setting sun. “Finally. It’s been so damn cold this year.”
“Feels like spring. I hope it lasts. I think I’ll have a bigger turnout for my grand opening if it does.” Wyatt squealed and tried to wriggle out of his seat belt, but she got him a toy from the basket on the stroller to mollify him. Then she rummaged in her purse, coming up with Aaron’s wallet.
“I went through it,” she announced as she handed it to him.
He straightened. “You...what?”
A blush tinged her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I was too curious.”
“About...”
She shrugged. “What you keep in there.”
Maybe he should’ve been mad but he found himself laughing. “Why would you immediately confess? That hadn’t even occurred to me.”
“I don’t want to feel creepy about having done it. I’m sorry,” she said again.
Her lack of artifice was endearing, despite her invasion of his privacy. “Find anything interesting?”
She hesitated for a second, then shook her head. “Just the usual. And nothing’s missing, of course. I hope I didn’t worry you by saying I went through it.”
“No.” He slid his billfold into his pocket without inspecting it.
“Good. Well, I’ll see you around,” she said with a parting smile. She started to leave, but he called her back.
“About last night...”
She parked the stroller again, glancing to either side to make sure they couldn’t be overheard. “Do we really have to talk about last night?”
“There’s something you don’t know. I haven’t wanted to tell you, but... It’s possible I’m worried for no reason. At the very least, though, you should be prepared.”
“For... What’s this about?”
“The condom we used.”
She licked her lips as if she suddenly felt self-conscious or perhaps anxious. “What about it?”
“I’m not sure how it happened... I mean, it’s never happened to me before, but...it was obviously...”
“What?” she prodded again, her eyes round and fearful.
“Broken.”
The color drained from her face.
“I’m sorry. We were...rougher than usual. Maybe that’s why. Or else it was defective to begin with.”
She covered her mouth with one hand but said nothing.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Oh, God.”
“You didn’t notice?”
“No. I wasn’t thinking about anything except...” She caught herself, but he would’ve liked to hear the rest of that sentence. Would it have been “you”? “How you made me feel”? “The best climax of my life”? “Getting you out of my house”? What?
He pinched his lips as he tried to evaluate her body language. “How worried should I be?”
“I’m not on the pill, if that’s what you’re asking. I was telling you the truth when I said I hadn’t slept with anyone in ages.”
Wyatt threw his toy on the ground and Aaron retrieved it for him. “So, no...IUD, or whatever those things are called, either?” He knew that if she wasn’t sexually active, she wouldn’t have one, but he couldn’t help hoping.
She shook her head.
He kicked at a tuft of grass before meeting her eyes. “Are you concerned?” She was already a mother. He doubted she’d want a second surprise pregnancy. The thought that it might be too late terrified him. He’d stand by any kid he helped create, if she went through with the pregnancy, but this wasn’t the way he’d planned to start a family—if and when he got around to it.
“Of course.”
His anxiety went deeper. “So it might’ve been...a fertile time of the month?”
She lowered her voice even more. “To be honest, I have no idea. These days my periods just come and go. Because they don’t interfere with my nonexistent sex life, I don’t pay much attention.”
He let his breath go. He’d been hoping for more definitive news. “I’m sorry if you’re upset.”
“It takes two,” she said.
Grateful she wasn’t placing all the blame on him, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’ll let me know when...when you’re in the clear—or even if you’re not?”
With a nod of confirmation, she wheeled Wyatt back in the direction from which she’d come.
Feeling the same disappointment and dissatisfaction he’d experienced while sitting in his truck last night, after she pushed him out the door, Aaron began to go after her. He didn’t see why their relationship had to be so damned strained. He cared about her as much as ever. So why couldn’t they go to dinner now, like they would’ve done two years ago? Wouldn
’t she enjoy a nice meal and maybe a movie?
He didn’t get two steps before he heard another guy call out to her from the edge of the park, where there was parking for nearby shops. It took him a second, but he eventually identified Kyle Houseman. As Kyle walked over to say hello to her, he seemed to be teasing her about something, because she slugged him in the arm and they both laughed.
Inexplicably irked that their exchange seemed so uncomplicated, so genuine, Aaron stalked to his truck and drove away.
* * *
Several hours after he arrived home from the park, Aaron sat in the easy chair that used to be his older brother’s, back when Dylan lived with them. He was staring at a sports channel, loosely holding the television remote. Grady and Rod were sprawled on the couch, looking tired after a long day at the shop. Their youngest brother, Mack, who was twenty-three, was out somewhere with his girlfriend. Two basketball teams in the Sweet Sixteen were battling it out, and Mack was missing it, but Aaron wasn’t paying much attention, anyway. He owed Cheyenne an answer, so he had to figure out what that answer was going to be.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Grady said when the game cut to a commercial. “Have you settled on a location for your franchise?”
He hadn’t made a decision there, either. Since he’d learned that Presley was back in town, he hadn’t been able to concentrate. First, he’d been intent on catching a glimpse of her and had kept driving by her place. Then he’d run into her, and things had gotten a whole lot more complicated. “Not yet.”
“What’s taking so long? Aren’t there any good options?”
Part of the problem was that opening a franchise in Reno sounded better in theory than it was likely to be in practice. If he moved away from Whiskey Creek, he wouldn’t be working with his brothers anymore. He wouldn’t live with them, either; it didn’t make sense to commute that far. So while he felt that leaving Whiskey Creek and the business he’d helped build—ever since he was a teenager—would defuse the ongoing tension between him and Dylan, the prospect of starting a new shop on his own was beginning to feel more lonely than appealing. None of his brothers wanted to leave the area. So without the people in his life, he’d only have work—lots of it if he wanted the franchise to be successful—and he spent enough time at the shop as it was.
“There are a few options,” he mumbled, gesturing with the remote. “I just haven’t settled on one.”
His brother took a drink of his beer. “Want to show me the final three sometime this week? Maybe we can decide together.”
Aaron was grateful for the offer, but if he went that far, he might actually have to choose one and take the next step—which was where he made the financial commitment. Once he signed a lease and wrote that check, it would be too late to back out. “It might make more sense just to...expand.”
“Here?” Rod and Grady both turned to look at him.
“Why not?” he said. “We have more business than we can handle. We could add another couple of paint bays, train a few new techs...”
Grady eased back. “Sounds good to me. I’ve never liked the idea of you leaving.”
“Me, neither.” Rod shot him a grin. “What would you do without us?”
Aaron knew he was about to get razzed about something. “Excuse me?”
“Who’ll be around to get your ass out of trouble?”
“You’ve gotten me into more fights than you’ve ever gotten me out of,” Aaron said, but since he was the black sheep in the family, the reverse was actually true. He’d been the biggest pain in the ass; they should all want to be rid of him.
“Not quite,” Grady responded. “But I will say that if I ever do get into a situation, you’re the one I’d want to have my back.”
“You mean you’d want Dylan. He’s the professional.”
“Dylan might be a hell of a fighter, but these days he’s too...mellow to hit anyone.”
Rod chuckled. “Ain’t that the truth! Cheyenne’s got him so whipped he’d have to ask her for permission first.”
They teased Dylan mercilessly about how tame he’d become, but deep down they were all jealous that he’d found such peace—not that they’d ever want to see him lose it.
“Yeah, but heaven help the man who threatens her,” Aaron said. “He’d tear the dumb bastard limb from limb.”
“Used to be the same with us,” Rod pointed out a little nostalgically.
Grady crushed his beer can. “We don’t need him to fight our battles anymore. He’d be there if we did.”
“So are you going to mention the expansion idea to Dylan?” Rod asked. “Or do you want me to do it?”
“I’ll talk to him, if I decide that’s what we should do.” He wasn’t sure his older brother would be happy to have him stay. Maybe Dylan was relieved by the thought that they wouldn’t be working together anymore, at least not so closely. They’d refer clients back and forth, pool their buying power and share business contacts. They’d agreed on that much. But it wouldn’t be the same. And that could be a good thing. If Aaron was going to donate his sperm to Cheyenne, it would probably be best for everyone involved if he got the hell out.
Rod went to the kitchen as a few seconds later, the front door opened and shut. Aaron turned around, expecting to see Mack, but it was Dylan. Dylan had lived with them for so long he hardly ever bothered to knock. His name was still on the deed to the house.
“Hey, Dyl,” Grady called out. “We were just talking about you.”
“What were you saying?” he asked as he came up behind the couch.
Grady sent him a daring glance. “That you’re a pussy these days.”
Dylan swatted him upside the head. “Come on outside, little brother. I’ll show you how much of a pussy I am.”
Grady wasn’t stupid enough to give Dylan the chance. He laughed as Rodney, who returned with a couple more beers, said hello. Then they both encouraged Dylan to sit down and watch the game.
Aaron remained silent throughout the exchange and kept his eyes on the TV. He’d been at the shop today but had managed to avoid Dylan. Aaron hadn’t spoken directly to him since Dylan punched a hole in the wall on Friday night.
“I can’t stay,” Dylan said. “Chey’s at home. She’s on the phone with Eve, but she’ll want me home with her once she hangs up.”
Grady nudged Rod. “See what I mean?”
“What?” Dylan snapped.
A wry smile twisted Rodney’s lips, but he didn’t needle Dylan again. “It’s not like you to leave her behind. What’s up?”
“I have a few things I’d like to say to Aaron.” He shoved Aaron’s recliner into a sitting position. “You got a minute?”
Aaron was tempted to tell him to go to hell. But he swallowed a sigh, handed Grady the remote and followed Dylan out back, where the yard fell away to the river. It wasn’t that Aaron didn’t want to make things right. He loved Dylan even more than he loved his other brothers—loved him like a father, in some ways. They just couldn’t get along. To make matters worse, he felt guilty for doing exactly what Dylan had been afraid he’d do. Presley certainly wasn’t better off for the visit he’d paid her. There was even a possibility that she was pregnant.
He scratched his neck. “If this is about the other night...”
“I was out of line on Friday, Aaron. I’m sorry.”
His brother was a proud man; rarely did he apologize. So Aaron appreciated the effort and was willing to admit that maybe he’d overreacted, too, especially now that he’d proven Dylan had been right to worry. “No big deal. I understand you’re concerned about Presley.”
“It wasn’t only that.”
Aaron’s thoughts turned to Dylan’s inability to father a child. But he should’ve known Dylan would never talk about something so private. To him, being infertile would be almost as bad as not being
able to get it up in the first place.
“I had a letter from Dad last Wednesday,” Dylan said.
Aaron studied his brother’s face but, as usual, Dylan wasn’t giving much away. Dylan’s emotions were complicated when it came to J.T.—Aaron’s, too. Only their younger brothers seemed capable of having a relationship with him. Not that it was much of a relationship. They wrote him a letter now and then or went down to Soledad once in a blue moon to visit.
“What’d he have to say? He still getting out this summer?”
J.T. had been scheduled for release last year, but several months before that, his cell mate ratted him out for having a shank hidden under his mattress and he got another twelve months for possession of a deadly weapon.
“He is. And he expects to come back here, to stay in the house and work at the body shop, until he can get on his feet.”
They sauntered closer to the river, which would soon swell with the spring runoff coming out of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. “We knew we’d have to deal with that eventually. Where else would he go? Not only that, he thinks what we have belongs to him. He’s the one who initially bought this house. He also started the business.”
Dylan selected a flat rock and skipped it across the water. “He signed both over to me when they put him away.”
“Only so you’d have some chance of keeping a roof over our heads and taking care of us.”
“Most men would want to provide for their children, but he acts like he did us a big favor. He’s already said it would’ve been better for him if he’d had a Realtor sell the house and the business to someone else.”
“How generous.” Aaron skipped a rock of his own. “But he’s forgetting that there wasn’t any equity in this place when he went to prison. And after Mom died, he let the business fall to crap.”
“I don’t think he deserves to waltz in and take over now that we’ve made Amos Auto Body a success.”
Dylan was being kind in saying “we.” Aaron didn’t feel he could take much credit for the shop, at least not in the early years. It was Dylan who’d saved the business from bankruptcy while trying to keep all of his brothers in school. He’d managed to stay afloat until he could do that by augmenting the shop’s trickle of income by fighting professionally on weekends.