Forsaken Trail

by Devney Perry

  “All right. Then I’ll do it today.” It would be better to tell Grandmother about the baby in person.

  I was flying to Vegas today for a string of meetings, but I had an hour carved out after lunch to catch up with Grandmother. She wasn’t going to like this—the baby or Aria—and I didn’t give a single fuck.

  This was my child and I was excited. The fear of fatherhood was there, a constant worry at the back of my mind, and I suspected it’d be there for the remainder of my life. But excitement had taken center stage, especially now that Aria and I had started . . .

  Sleeping together? Dating? I hadn’t dated since college. Since Aria and I rarely went anywhere outside the home, I doubted this would qualify.

  Maybe I should change that.

  “Tomorrow night, I’d like to take you out to dinner.”

  Aria returned to her brushing. “Okay. I’ve been craving a burger from the diner ever since Marty and I ordered in lunch from there last week.”

  “The diner it is.” I drew a circle on her shoulder with my finger, then reluctantly stepped away. It was nearly impossible to keep my hands to myself when she was within reach. And if I kept touching her, that towel would hit the floor and I’d be late for my flight.

  “Don’t work too hard. No lifting heavy arrangements.”

  “Yes, sir.” A smile toyed at her mouth.

  She’d started teasing me lately, calling me sir. The three-letter word sent a rush of heat to my groin.

  “You’re evil.” I didn’t hide the adjustment I made to my hardening dick.

  Her smile widened. “I know.”

  I chuckled and walked out of the bathroom while I still could, then headed to the garage. I pulled off the property and onto the highway. Within a mile, I missed home. I missed her.

  I wasn’t exactly a homebody. Clara called me an introvert, but mostly, I didn’t like many people. Many people didn’t like me. With so much work to be done, why make friends when I didn’t have time to give them? Why date a woman who would only demand attention I didn’t have to spare?

  Aria was the exception.

  When it came to her, none of my rules applied. She had my focus. She had my free moments. She had my nights.

  It had been two weeks since the night Aria had told me to kiss her in the kitchen. Two weeks and we hadn’t spent a night apart. There were some evenings when I had to work late and I’d find her in her room, tucked into bed, reading a book. Other nights, we’d eat dinner together before I’d start the process of giving her as many orgasms as I could until she passed out.

  Those were the best nights.

  We slept in her room. My room. Wherever we landed. And never had my house felt so much like a home.

  She’d bring home flowers from the shop. They’d sit on the kitchen counter, brightening it for the weekend. The arrangement she’d brought five days ago had started to droop and I suspected there’d be a new one tonight when I got home from Vegas.

  My flight left on time. My morning meetings went off without a hitch. And when it was time to meet with Grandmother and tell her the news, her initial reaction was exactly as I’d expected. A double blink. A demand to repeat myself. Then the fury set in.

  “How could you be so foolish?” she snapped, her face as red as I’d seen in a year.

  “It wasn’t intentional.”

  “Maybe for you. That woman is trash. She did this on purpose.”

  “I can assure you, Aria was just as surprised as I was.”

  “Then she should be an actress.” Grandmother scoffed. “Because that woman only wants your money.”

  If she only knew how wrong she was. Aria still hadn’t so much as touched the keys for the BMW I’d bought her. She’d made her first monthly payment on the flower shop even when I’d tried once more to tell her it was unnecessary. Three days ago, I’d heard her tell Ron that whether he liked it or not, she was picking up some groceries on the way home. He was smarter than I was and chose not to argue and had reluctantly handed over his list.

  “Whether you like her or not, Aria is in my life,” I said. “I won’t forsake my child. Or my child’s mother.”

  “Then you prove my point. You were an easy target.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Please. Can you just be happy for me? I want this.”

  “Then you’re as foolish as your mother.”

  My jaw clenched. “I guess I am.”

  “You will get a nanny. You will find someone suitable to raise that baby so he doesn’t turn out like his mother.”

  “I have a nanny.” I sighed.

  Or I would have a nanny. Ron had already begun lining up interviews. We’d likely hire someone outside of Welcome, meaning we’d build another home on the property. There was time.

  “Unbelievable.” Grandmother sat rigid behind her desk, her entire frame locked tight.

  “Aria is a kind, loving person. I realize you two didn’t start off on the right foot. Ironically, she has as much tenacity as you. If you give her a chance, I’m sure you’ll get along.”

  “She is trash, Broderick. Trash.” She made the statement sound like fact. The sky is blue. The oceans are deep. She is trash.

  Except Aria Saint-James was not trash.

  Nothing I said would convince Grandmother otherwise, so why was I here wasting my breath on a woman who was never going to change her mind?

  I wouldn’t let her steal this joy.

  “We’re done here.” I stood from the chair and walked to the door.

  “Get back here. Immediately. I am not done speaking.”

  I kept walking.

  “Broderick.”

  Aria had been right. My full name really was pretentious. Grandmother knew I preferred Brody.

  “Broderick! I will sell this company. If you don’t deal with this woman and find a way to get her out of our lives, I will sell this company.”

  I stopped walking and turned. “Aria is the mother of my child. She is in our lives whether you like it or not.”

  “Get rid of her. Pay her to disappear.”

  “No.”

  “Don’t push me. I will sell.”

  “No, you won’t.” For too long, she’d made that threat.

  It was time to call her bluff.

  “You won’t sell this company. You won’t sell Grandfather’s legacy. And you won’t threaten me with it again. This is my company.”

  “Not yet, it isn’t. I’ll sell.”

  “You can make that decision, but I truly hope you don’t. I hope you care about me and my future enough to give me the opportunity to prove myself.”

  A flicker of guilt crossed her gaze.

  Grandfather had stipulated she receive a monthly stipend as the executor of my trust. Knowing him, it had been a heavy sum, enough to tie her to his company. And she’d also receive a sum when her time as trustee ran out. Maybe he’d worried that she’d sell after his death.

  I’d assumed that she didn’t need the stipend. And that if she sold, she’d receive more money for her own shares than the stipend and lump sum together. But maybe Grandmother’s personal finances weren’t as strong as they once were. Or maybe the offers for Carmichael that she’d bragged about had been greatly exaggerated.

  Whatever her motives, I wasn’t going to stick around and listen to her shred Aria.

  “Have a nice day, Grandmother.”

  “Broderick.”

  “I’m sure we’ll talk soon.”

  “Broderick!”

  Grandmother was still yelling as I shoved open the door and disappeared to my own office. I slammed the door shut and went to the windows overlooking the city.

  God, she made life difficult. After my birthday, after she was out of Carmichael, I suspected Grandmother would mostly disappear from my life.

  I just had to endure until my birthday.

  What if I didn’t?

  What if I walked away? What if I let it all go? The years and years of work I’d put into this place. Was it even w
orth it?

  Yes. My vision was worth fighting for. So were the employees.

  I could lead them and this company into a bright future. Just yesterday, I’d had a call with the CEO of a large communications corporation in California. It had been a casual visit, but we’d danced around a potential deal in the future.

  So I’d deal with Grandmother’s dramatics and barked orders. I’d do it for employees like Erika, the head of human resources, who’d been working at Carmichael for twenty-eight years. She was eighteen months from retirement, and if the company dissolved before then, she’d lose the twenty-five-thousand-dollar bonus Grandfather had set up for employees who’d worked here for thirty years. That bonus meant Erika could move to Idaho and live closer to her son and grandkids.

  I’d endure for Joshua, the head of security who’d started here as a custodian. He was a single father whose daughter was in college. He was determined to pay for her education and his job was the key to that dream.

  I would deal with Grandmother for Matt because that poor guy was her third personal assistant this year. He’d just graduated from college and this was his first job. I’d asked him once, after witnessing Grandmother tear into him for getting her coffee order wrong, why he wanted to work at Carmichael. He’d told me his young wife was undergoing chemotherapy and no other job he could find offered such comprehensive health insurance.

  Erika, Joshua, Matt. They were all trapped in their jobs.

  And I’d stay trapped in mine.

  “Brody?” A knock came at the door and I turned from the window as Laney, my second assistant, walked into the room with a stack of papers in her hand. “Your two o’clock is early. Would you like me to show him to a conference room to wait? Or would you like to get started early?”

  “I’m ready. Send him in. And let’s see if we can move up or cancel my last meeting. I’d like to get home before dark.”

  “Of course.” She smiled, more brightly than normal. Probably because I’d told her this morning that I was going to be a father. She’d been especially smiley since.

  I wasn’t close to Laney like I was Clara. She lived in Vegas, so we didn’t see each other as often. I’d never consider her a personal friend, but she was a nice woman and a fantastic employee. She had two young kids who attended our onsite daycare for employees.

  The remainder of my meetings went quickly, and I was able to get out of Vegas an hour earlier than planned. When the plane’s wheels touched down in Welcome, I breathed and unknotted my tie.

  I’d stripped it off completely, along with my jacket, by the time I parked in the garage at home. Ready for dinner and a long night worshiping Aria’s body, I opened the door to a loud crash.

  “Aria.” I ran toward the source of the noise.

  Another crash. “Shit.”

  “Aria!” A cold gust of air hit me as I rounded the corner and rushed toward her bedroom.

  The patio doors were open. Beyond them, the pool shimmered in the March evening light. The sunsets had been beautiful, and two nights ago, Aria had insisted on sitting out by the pool, bundled in a sweater and wool socks, to watch the colorful show.

  Her room was cold and empty. I checked the bathroom, where I’d left her this morning, but it was dark. Another crash echoed from the hallway and I jogged to the room next door.

  And there she was, standing in the middle of a mess. Boxes were strewn across the floor. A crate had been ripped open with the hammer and pry bar clutched in her hands. The crate’s paper stuffing had exploded through the room.

  “What’s going on?”

  Aria whirled, the hand with the hammer ready to strike. “Don’t sneak up on me.”

  “I called for you.” I walked into the room as her arm dropped to her side. But the look of fury on her face didn’t fade.

  “You ordered a cradle?” She pointed the tool at the crate where the soft wooden edge of the cradle peeked out from the packing paper straws.

  “Yes.”

  “And what’s in that one?” She glared at the crate in the corner.

  “A rocking chair.”

  Aria’s nostrils flared. “You didn’t think I’d want to have some input?”

  “No.” Shit. “I figured if you didn’t like them, we could send them back and get something else.”

  “When did you order them?”

  “Months ago. They were both custom-made and I knew it would take time.”

  She crossed her arms, her grip on both tools tightening. “And what about the nanny? I got home from work and Ron was escorting his top candidate out. He wanted to make sure I could meet her before he gave you the final recommendation.”

  My stomach dropped. This wasn’t about the cradle or the chair. This was about the nanny. “It’s just an idea.”

  “A nanny? You think I want a nanny?”

  “Well . . . yes.”

  She threw the tools to the floor of the crate with a clank and thud. “Stop doing this.”

  “I’m trying to help.”

  “You’re not helping!” The flush rose in her cheeks.

  “Aria, this isn’t a big deal. Calm down.”

  “Calm down? No. And this is a big deal.” She shook her head. “First it’s the car. Then it’s the cradle. Then it’s the nanny. You make these decisions, these important decisions, without talking to me.”

  Christ. “I’m sorry.”

  “Then stop doing it.” Her shoulders fell. “Don’t make decisions for me. Ask me. Share with me. Talk to me.”

  “Like you talk to me?”

  “I talk to you.” She planted her hands on her hips. It was then that I noticed her feet were bare amidst wood splinters and metal staples.

  I shook my head and turned, stalking away. Knowing she’d follow because Aria didn’t let battles go unfought.

  She caught up to me in my bedroom, where I was stowing my cufflinks.

  “What was that supposed to mean?” she snapped.

  I didn’t answer.

  Instead, I went to work on my shirt’s buttons, stripping it off and tossing it in the hamper. Then I pulled a black T-shirt from a drawer and tugged it on. My slacks got traded for the jeans Aria loved so much. And I put on some tennis shoes so I could wade into the mess she’d made in the nursery because she was pissed.

  Well, I was pissed too. More than I’d realized.

  I was trying to help. Maybe I’d fucked it up. I should have told her about the nanny but I hadn’t expected Ron to work so quickly. I certainly hadn’t expected him to have an interviewee here at the house.

  Why couldn’t Aria give me a little credit? And a little slack? I was trying to make her life easier. Why wouldn’t she let me?

  None of those thoughts were voiced. They stayed trapped in my head as I stalked back to the nursery.

  Aria followed, silently fuming. She leaned against the doorjamb as I took the cradle from the box, then unpacked the rocking chair. And once they were out of the way, I went about cleaning up the mess on the floor.

  She didn’t say a word. Neither did I.

  Aria stared. I worked.

  Carrying the last piece of the dismantled crates to the garage, I returned to the nursery to find Aria gone. Along with the cradle.

  “Damn it, woman.” I marched out of the nursery and to her bedroom.

  She’d dragged the cradle to the foot of the bed where she sat, rocking it gently.

  The cradle was wooden with sleek lines, simple but stylish. I thought she’d be proud that I’d picked something in a warm shade, especially when white and gray had been options.

  “This is pretty,” she whispered.

  “If you want something else, we can get something else.”

  She shook her head and looked up to meet my gaze. All of the anger she’d been wearing earlier had disappeared. Somewhere during my trips to and from the garage, the fight had gone out of her.

  I realized as I crossed the room to sit beside her that my anger had deflated too. “I’m sorry. I said it earl
ier. I meant it.”

  “I know. You don’t say things you don’t mean.” She leaned into my side, her hair tickling my bare forearm. “I don’t want a nanny. I want to be the one to change diapers and puree baby food and get up in the middle of the night.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “No nanny. I’m going to be selfish and keep all of my baby’s moments for myself.”

  “Just share some with me, okay?”

  “You can have the poopy diapers.”

  I chuckled. “So generous.”

  “And I want a will. I want one ready the day he or she is born. If something happens to us, no matter what, Clara gets custody.”

  My insides clenched. Just the idea that she—we—might not be there to see our child grow up made me sick. But Aria was right. This was important. “I’ll have my attorney draft it up tomorrow.”

  She sat statue still, staring at the crib with her temple on my shoulder. “My parents didn’t have a will. To this day, it’s the one thing I haven’t been able to forgive them for. It wouldn’t have taken more than an hour or two. A phone call to a lawyer. But they put it off and then . . . they were gone.”

  “We’ll have one,” I promised, then did my best not to tense because I didn’t want her to stop talking.

  I knew only pieces of her history, the parts Clara had trusted me with over the years. But I wanted the full story and I wanted it from Aria. I wanted her to trust me with her past, like I’d trusted her with mine.

  “Since they didn’t have a will, Clara and I became wards of the state while their estate was settled. We spent four weeks in foster care, waiting for family services to sort out where to stick us.”

  “You ended up with an uncle, right?”

  “Uncle Craig.” She shivered. “My mom’s stepbrother. They were estranged. My grandmother had been a single mom. She’d had Mom young. Then later she’d remarried a man a few years older, with a son. Her husband died but my grandma kept Craig. It was his senior year, I think. I didn’t know my grandma well. She died when Clara and I were babies. My dad’s parents were living in a retirement village outside of Phoenix, of all places. Not that far from here.”

  “And you didn’t go with them?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sure that’s what Mom and Dad had expected to happen. But when my uncle offered to take us, family services thought it was for the best. He was younger and lived in Temecula too, so we wouldn’t have to move to a different town. And my dad’s parents didn’t put up a fight. They didn’t want us, not really.”