* * *
ON TUESDAY EVENING, Aaron drove up the circular brick driveway in front of his grandparents’ house. He looked around the brightly lit yard as he got out, marveling at how little the place had changed over the years.
Since his last visit, the summer flowers had been replaced with the winter bedding plants his grandmother favored. They were always the same, spaced equally, with shredded bark mulch giving a uniform appearance to the ground. The trees were bigger and older, but the lawns were precisely cut and the driveway spotless. He knew that if he went to the back, he would see the converted carriage-house garage looking crisp and clean, and the driveway there as perfectly maintained.
“Aaron, please come in,” said Sarah Cooper when she opened the door. “We’re glad you were free tonight.”
He stepped inside and was surrounded by the familiar scent of beeswax polish used for the wood furniture and hardwood floor.
George appeared at the library door and nodded. “Good evening, Aaron.”
“Hello, Grandfather.”
His grandmother gestured to the formal living room. “Shall we have a glass of sherry? It’s already poured.”
Aaron didn’t care for the sweet wine the elderly couple enjoyed, but they’d had a custom of sipping imported Spanish sherry as an aperitif since before he was born.
“And how is Melanie?” Sarah asked as she sat down. “Doing better in school?”
“Her grades have improved and she’s caught up with her classes.” Aaron took a sip from his glass and tried to appreciate the sherry—no doubt it was one of the finest that Spain produced. The stuff was just so damned sweet. If they had liked a dry variety, it might be different.
“Excellent, school is important.”
The Coopers were both aged and ageless, Aaron mused. While they were in their eighties, they looked much the same as when he was a boy. Yet their outlook was more Victorian than twenty-first century.
Or was it?
“Grandmother, I understand you have an interest in the needs of working mothers,” he murmured in the silence. From the few times he’d visited them since returning to Cooperton, he knew that silence could stretch interminably if he didn’t say something.
Sarah’s eyes widened. “Why, yes. Despite the so-called sexual revolution, child-care responsibilities seem to fall largely to women, yet they often work, as well. Nevertheless, I believe support should be given any working parent, regardless of gender.”
That might be the most she’d ever said to him in a single stream of words.
“Then you’ll be pleased that I’m considering an onsite child-care facility at Cooper Industries.”
A hint of a smile curved her mouth. “That would be a long-overdue advance.”
George let out a faint huff. “Now, Sarah, I believe we’ve discussed this.”
“Obviously not sufficiently.”
“Very well, my dear.” He inclined his head and finished his sherry while Sarah’s gaze filled with quiet satisfaction.
Aaron blinked, seeing nuances between them that he’d never caught before. Of course, as a boy he hadn’t participated in the formal aperitif ritual, and at dinner he’d put his head down and eaten as quickly as possible so he could get away. Once he’d turned sixteen and had a car to give him freedom, he had gone out whenever possible.
“I’ve been speaking to a member of the city council about expanding the factory,” he said. “Would you like to hear my plans, Grandfather?”
George waved a vague hand. “That isn’t necessary. I’m sure the council will approve.”
At least he hadn’t said his usual “What’s good for Cooperton, is good for Cooper Industries.” Aaron wasn’t sure it was true, but it fit with George’s desire to be seen as a benefactor of the community.
“The plan is to expand east of the plant,” he said casually.
His grandfather frowned. “East? But that’s the land leased to the organic farmers.”
“The lease is expiring this coming February.”
“Oh. Yes.” George clenched his glass until his knuckles went white, and he stared fixedly at the small amount of wine it still contained. “Organic products have become quite popular. The...the farmers are expecting their leases to be renewed.”
Aaron gulped the remainder of his sherry in a single swallow. While they weren’t close, his grandfather’s tension was hard to watch. He was about to explain the alternate plan to expand in a different direction when George’s glass suddenly broke.
Both Aaron and Sarah jumped to their feet.
“George, you’re bleeding,” his grandmother cried.
“It’s nothing, my dear.”
“I’ll get something,” she said, rushing out of the living room.
Aaron took the broken pieces of the glass and set them aside, shaken more by the depth of emotion he’d seen in his grandfather than by the small trickle of red on the old man’s hand. How many times had he thought of George as a cold fish, doing the right thing because of image and pride in his family heritage, rather than any real concern for the people of Cooperton?
George took out his handkerchief and dabbed his fingers. “I realize that I no longer have a say in the matter, but I would greatly appreciate you renewing those leases,” he breathed. “The farmers have spent large sums getting certified organic. They...they have worked very hard on their endeavor.”
“Of course, Grandfather,” Aaron said gently. “It may be more logical expanding south, anyway, since the town has plans for a new sewage treatment plant in that direction. And the city council has expressed concerns that we would be building over prime farmland with my primary plan. The land is more marginal on the alternate site.”
“A superb idea.” Unbelievably, George patted his hand. “I’ve watched your progress in business over the years. Exceptionally well-done. I realize it was a sacrifice returning to Cooperton.”
Aaron had felt that way initially; now he wasn’t so sure. There was Karin to consider, and the Coopers were another question mark. Perhaps getting to know them better wouldn’t be such a bad thing. They were certainly talking to him more than they ever had, as if a logjam had suddenly cleared.
“I’m doing all right here,” he said. “I admit Peggy has been a challenge. Until this morning, that is. I must have said something she appreciated because she suddenly can’t do enough for me, though who knows how long it will last.”
“Ah.” George nodded. “Getting along with her is really quite simple—let Peggy know she’s needed and she’ll move the world for you. You’ll never find a more loyal employee. Her husband is a foreman in the fruit-cup division, a fine man. And her son was shaping well for advancement when I retired.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Sarah returned to clean and bandage the small wounds on George’s hand. She seemed more upset about it than her husband, so when the cook came in a few minutes later and announced dinner, Aaron tried to leave so they could relax.
“No,” they declared in unison.
“You must stay,” Sarah added, fidgeting with the first aid supplies. “Cook fixed pot roast because she remembered it was your favorite.”
“All right. It’s been a long time since I’ve had Mrs. Ryland’s pot roast.”
The meal went more smoothly than Aaron could recall any meal going with the Coopers, though it was a long way from comfortable. He had planned to ask more questions, but he didn’t want to risk anything else dramatic happening.
Besides, he had more than enough to consider already.
* * *
SKYLAR PEEKED INTO Karin’s bedroom. She was on the floor in her sleeping bag, with Melanie on the bed. They hadn’t wanted to be in separate bedrooms, saying it was more like a slumber party this way. Slumber party or not, it was a school night, an
d Skylar had insisted they be in bed with the lights out by ten o’clock. Predictably, they’d giggled and whispered until a stern warning had gotten them to settle down.
She was folding laundry when a faint knocking at the front door caught her attention. Peeking through the curtain, she saw Aaron.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, opening the door. “Melanie is supposed to spend the night.”
“I thought I’d stop by and see how you were doing.” His mouth was taut and there was a troubled look in his eyes; obviously this was more than a status check on his sister.
“I take it dinner with your grandparents didn’t go well.”
He shrugged.
Skylar cast a quick glance toward the back of the house, then grabbed a jacket from the coat closet. “Let’s go out on the porch so we don’t wake the girls. We can sit on the swing.”
“Good idea.”
The porch swing under the old wisteria vine was dark and private with the light off and they sat there for several minutes in silence.
It was a chilly night, and while Skylar regretted the end of summer, there were compensations. Thanksgiving would soon come with the rich scent of sage and roasting turkey and apple pie. And then Christmas, with the lights and color and hum of music. She’d talked with Grace and Joe, and they were all determined to keep the holidays from being as sad this year.
She’d also told them about Aaron.
They had instantly declared that he’d better not try to take Karin away or he’d be sorry. Their staunch support was so much like Jimmie that she’d almost cried. Some people wouldn’t have considered their son’s adopted child to be a “real” grandchild, but her in-laws were ready to go to war on Karin’s behalf.
“Wouldn’t the Coopers talk to you?” Skylar asked at length.
She felt, rather than saw, Aaron’s shrug. “Questioning them is harder than it sounds. My grandparents were distant when I was a boy—they took me out of duty and lost few opportunities to remind me of it. That isn’t the best basis for communication.”
Duty sounded like a lousy way to be raised—perhaps the loneliness she’d seen in Aaron’s eyes years ago had been real. The old saying, “to understand all is to forgive all,” could be going too far in his case, but understanding his childhood better did explain a great deal.
“The Coopers are very proper whenever I’ve seen them in public. Mr. Cooper is usually the Grand Marshal of the Founder’s Day Parade, and very popular for ribbon cuttings, such as the rededication of city hall.”
He let out a short, humorless laugh. “My grandparents are proper, all right, but they aren’t as unemotional as I’ve always thought. Grandfather was so unnerved at one point, he broke a glass in his hand.”
“Was he hurt?”
“A small cut and a few nicks. Grandmother was rattled, as well. I didn’t try to get any more information after that—it’s obviously going to take a while to get the answers I want.”
Skylar put a hand on Aaron’s arm. “But didn’t tonight already answer some of those questions? You thought they were unemotional, and they aren’t. And if they do have strong feelings, maybe your questions need to change.”
“Could be. They asked me to Sunday lunch. I’ve avoided them as much as possible since coming back to Cooperton, but I’ll have to go.”
She thought of the countless family meals she’d eaten with the Gibsons, looking forward to each one. They talked on the phone several times a week, visited back and forth, and she’d often wished they lived in Cooperton instead of Trident because seeing them was a pleasure, not a chore. Then again, the Gibsons were nothing like the Coopers. She’d loved them before she had ever thought marrying Jimmie was a possibility.
“By the way,” Aaron said. “I’ve decided to renew the organic farmers’ leases. Why in hell didn’t you tell me my grandfather made promises to them about the land? You knew, didn’t you?”
“I knew,” she admitted. “I buy direct from the growers, and we talk. They’ve been worried since they hadn’t heard whether you were going to let them stay. Two have invested in hydroponics facilities so they can produce crops year-round, and it was going to be a bad blow if they couldn’t continue.”
“You didn’t tell them about my plans for the company?”
“Nope, I was hoping you’d change your mind, and I didn’t think hysterical phone calls would help.”
“It wouldn’t have.” Aaron’s laugh was more genuine this time, and he stretched out his legs. “God, I’m tired. Doing anything with my grandparents is exhausting. The negotiations when I took over the company were bad enough to get through, but having a meal with them is like being flattened by a steamroller.”
“I take it Mr. Cooper didn’t tell you about the leases when you became president.”
“Not a word. We’ve had a number of phone conversations since, along with a few meetings, and he’s obviously getting reports on the company from someone, but all he says is, ‘What’s good for Cooperton is good for Cooper Industries.’ The odd thing is, I think he’s trying to let me run the place without interfering. I thought he’d drive me insane, calling and demanding things be done a certain way, even though he’d signed everything over.”
Skylar didn’t say anything for a moment. Two months ago she couldn’t have imagined having a civilized conversation with Aaron, but here she was, talking to him on her front porch.
“Mr. Cooper’s retirement was years overdue,” she said finally. “Though I don’t think anyone thought it was strange because he looks so much younger than his age. And they knew he was expecting you to return one day and take his place.”
“Some people don’t want to retire, but I never would have guessed George cared about anything beyond his public image. It was rough watching him tonight. He’s always seemed a stern authoritarian whose pride meant more to him than breathing.”
A queer sensation went through Skylar. Obviously they’d both had lousy parenting growing up, in radically different ways. Her poor childhood was one of the things that had scared her when Karin was born. After all, what had she known about being a good mother? She’d struggled with being overprotective, and only Grace Gibson’s sensible advice had kept her from making more mistakes.
Aaron shifted in the swing next to her and gently tugged a lock of her hair. He didn’t say anything else for a while and neither did Skylar, but it was a companionable silence. The swing rocked back and forth, and she closed her eyes, listening to the faint sounds of the night. A dog down the street barked once, a friendly yip, as if pleased or excited—it was Itty, the Takahashis’ German shepherd. The breeze ruffled the leaves of bushes and trees around the house. She could even hear the faint sound of Aaron breathing.
“I suppose I should get home,” he said without moving.
“And I should get back inside in case the girls need something.” She shivered and Aaron tugged her close.
“You should be wearing a heavier jacket.”
“It doesn’t matter if I’m going back into the house.”
“No, it doesn’t.” His fingers were splayed along her rib cage, and she swallowed. A few more inches and he’d be touching her breasts; the alarming part was that she wanted him to touch her. “What is it about you that always gets to me?” Aaron whispered. “You drove me crazy when we were kids.” He kissed the corner of her mouth in a tempting caress.
“Reminding me about the past isn’t the best idea right now,” she warned.
“Okay.” He kissed her more deeply, and her body, unaccustomed to the newly arrived autumn chill, heated abruptly. Aaron’s tongue flicked between her lips, teasing playfully, and Skylar acknowledged that he’d learned something about kissing since he was seventeen.
“You aren’t concentrating,” he whispered, tipping her backward on the seat of the swing and flicking his thumbs
across her nipples.
Every cell in her body was suddenly at attention and he took advantage of it, kissing and coaxing a response with expert precision.
She didn’t know where it might have gone if she hadn’t heard a low, urgent voice from the sidewalk saying, “No, don’t...come back here,” followed by a cold nose thrusting itself into her neck and a canine tongue swiping her check.
“Itty, stop.” Skylar nudged the German shepherd’s head away and scrambled upright. She pushed Aaron back onto the swing as he started to stand, whispering, “You stay here,” before grabbing Itty’s leash to lead him back to his waiting master.
* * *
AARON TRIED NOT to groan as he waited for Skylar to return.
Damned dog, he cursed silently.
He looked around. The front and side of the home was banded by the wide farmhouse porch, and the swing was tucked into the deep shade of a climbing bush. It was already a dark night, with no moon, so the velvet black surrounding him provided near-perfect privacy.
Except to dogs, apparently.
A few words from the quiet roadside conversation drifted in, though not enough to get the gist of what they were saying. Soon Skylar laughed, and he heard her returning up the walkway.
“That was Itty,” she said, remaining out of arm’s reach.
Obviously, she was no longer in the mood for snuggling.
“Itty?”
“Short for Itty Bitty.”
“Itty Bitty?” Aaron repeated in disbelief. “That animal is huge.”
“He’s tiny compared to the Saint Bernard they used to have. Their daughter was four when they got Itty as a pup, and Wendy kept calling him Itty Bitty. The name stuck.”
He reluctantly stood up as she yawned. “I’d better get home. You were probably on your way to bed.”
“Actually, I was doing the laundry. Teenage girls go through a lot of clothes in a week.”
“Tell me about it.”
Winning Over Skylar Page 20