by JC Harroway
Aaron frowned. “What are you talking about? She didn’t call here.” He would have heard the phone. She had texted yesterday, but it was so damn confrontational, he’d set his phone aside without responding. A plan. I just need a damn plan.
“No, she didn’t call the office. She called me.” Cameron leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. “Seems she couldn’t get ahold of you, which is confusing as fuck to me because you’re sitting right here with two phones on your desk and yet it looks like you walked out of a fight and have been acting like an asshole ever since.” He gave Aaron a disgusted look. “She wanted to make sure you were okay. Didn’t say as much, but the relief and hurt practically radiated through the phone, and if leaving her hanging like that isn’t some bullshit, I don’t know what is.”
She’d called Cameron.
Horror flooded Aaron. He hadn’t responded to her text. Hadn’t called. Hadn’t done anything to let her know where he was or where his head was at. For her to call Cameron, she had to have been in a bad place, worried about him, and he hadn’t done a single thing to stop that. He’d let his own hurt get in the way of everything. He’d promised her that he would be in her corner no matter what, and the first time she got truly skittish on him, he acted like a dick and left her.
He shoved to his feet so fast, he tipped his chair over. “I’m an asshole.”
“Finally.” Cameron sat back. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”
He rushed out of the office, barely pausing long enough to grab his phone and his keys, and then took the stairs down to the street because he didn’t want to wait for the elevator. The trip to his penthouse took on a nightmarish quality. No matter how fast he moved, it wasn’t fast enough.
He should have taken a walk around the block and immediately come back after the fight.
Fuck, he shouldn’t have left in the first place.
It would have played on every single insecurity and fear Becka had. And then to leave her hanging...
He was well and truly an asshole.
Aaron raced through the doors of his building and took the elevator up to his floor. He burst through the door. “Becka? Becka, where are you?”
Silence greeted him.
I’m too late.
He closed the door behind him and stalked through the penthouse. The answers he sought lay in the spare bedroom. The closet doors hung open, all her clothing gone, along with her suitcases. Even knowing it was a lost cause, Aaron walked to the bedroom they’d begun sharing together and opened the door.
It looked exactly like it had when he’d left for work two days ago. A pair of Becka’s shoes had been tossed in the approximate direction of the closet. Her towel still lay in a pile on the dresser where she’d set it while she was getting dressed. There was even the slightest indent on the pillow she’d claimed as her own.
Aaron leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. It was worse seeing evidence of her here compared to the searing lack in the other room. It meant she hadn’t been able to force herself through the door. He’d hurt her that much.
Fuck.
He didn’t know how to make this right. There wasn’t a single plan that would work—he knew, because he’d labored over countless ones while he sat in his office and didn’t work. Becka was gone. He was to blame.
Each second ticked by, a reminder of the way he’d failed her. Aaron pushed off the wall and rushed back through the penthouse, looking for some indication of where she’d gone.
Nothing.
No note, no convenient piece of evidence that would lead him to her.
Think, damn it. You can’t go running down the street bellowing her name.
Even though that was exactly what he wanted to do.
Aaron dug his phone out of his pocket and called Lucy. It barely rang once before he hung up. What was he thinking? She might have told her sister she was pregnant, but showing up there would just reinforce her incorrect belief that she was somehow failing Lucy. Becka wouldn’t go to Lucy.
No, she’d go to Allie and Roman.
He started to call his friend, but Aaron paused. If there was one truth when it came to Roman, it was that the man loved Allie beyond all reasonable doubt. If Becka was there, he would stand sentry over her and Allie if it was what the women wanted. An admirable quality, but it would put them directly at odds, and Aaron couldn’t risk the possibility of being kept from her.
He couldn’t make this right if he couldn’t see her.
What do you think you’re going to do? That you’ll show up and she’ll be so relieved you decided to stop being a dick that she’ll fall at your feet in gratitude?
Not likely.
The odds were Becka would throw something at his head rather than sit still long enough to hear him apologize. He deserved it. There was no doubt about that.
He reached the ground floor and headed out onto the street. He had no plan. No guarantee that she wouldn’t kick him to the curb the second she saw him. Nothing.
Nothing but his love and an apology he didn’t even know how to put into words.
It didn’t matter.
He would make it right.
The alternative—a future with Becka moving peripherally through his life—was too heartbreaking to even consider. If he fucked this up, they’d share a child and nothing else. He’d have to stand by and watch her move on. She might avoid relationships like a plague right now, but eventually she’d come across a man determined enough to get past her barriers, who would be patient with her skittishness, and who would earn her love as a result.
Fuck. That.
Aaron wanted to be that man. Aaron was that man.
He just had to prove it to her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
BECKA COULDN’T SETTLE into the movie. It was more than her bladder crying foul every fifteen minutes or the fact that too many peanut butter cookies had upset her stomach. She kept running over Allie’s words, and every repeat put her more on edge. She sat up. “I did fight for him.”
“Hmm?” Allie turned to look at her. “What’s that?”
“Aaron.” She pushed to her feet and pressed a knuckle to the small of her back, where an ache had started. “I moved in with him. I went on dates with him. I shared his damn bed. I was making an effort.”
“Uh-huh.”
She paced back and forth, energy snapping through her limbs. “You know what I need to do?” Becka continued before her friend could respond. “I need to go down to his office and say what I need to say. He can’t just ice me out and expect me to fade quietly into the night.” She spun around. “I love that asshole, and people that love each other don’t have a single fight and break up. That’s bullshit. He can’t ghost me. I’m having his freaking baby.”
Allie cleared her throat. “Well, technically, he could ghost you.” She held up her hands when Becka growled. “I mean, this is Aaron, and obviously he’s not going to because he’s Aaron. But just wanted to point that out.”
“You’re not helping.” She snatched up her phone and headed for the door. “I’m going to track that jerk down and figure this out.”
“Go get ’em, tiger.”
Considering Becka had said almost the same thing to Allie after she and Roman had their bumpy start, she didn’t growl at her friend again. “I’ll call you later.” She stalked to the door and threw it open.
And almost plowed right into Aaron.
He stood there, one hand raised to knock. “Becka.”
She froze. “Aaron.” Now that they were face-to-face, her anger drained away as if it’d never been, leaving only the hurt and heartbreak behind. She stepped back and wrapped her arms around herself. “What are you doing here?” He shifted, and she zeroed in on the plastic containers in his free hand. They looked familiar... “Are those peanut butter and jelly wings?”
He slowly lowered his hand. “I figured my best chance of getting you to sit still long enough to hear me apologize was if I provided your favorite food.” He motioned to the containers. “And if it brought up some of the good memories to combat what an asshole I’ve been, I wouldn’t complain about that, either.”
It was right about then that she realized they still stood half in the hallway outside the apartment. “How did you get up here?”
Guilt flared in his blue eyes. “One of my old clients lives on the floor below. I asked him to buzz me up.”
Shady. He obviously didn’t want to project his arrival for fear of how she’d react, which was enough to tell her that Allie had no idea he was coming. Becka shot a glance over her shoulder, but if her friend was eavesdropping, she was being subtle about it. After a quick internal debate, she stepped back. “Why don’t you come in?” Allie had set her up in their spare bedroom, so she led Aaron there.
He didn’t speak as she shut the door behind him, but he did set the food on the dresser. Becka opened her mouth, but she didn’t know what to say. The fear rose again, the instinctive desire to retreat behind her shell to avoid being vulnerable. Letting Aaron in had hurt, and if he had showed up just to reject her...
Have a little faith.
She cleared her throat. “I overreacted. You startled me with the marriage thing, and instead of talking it out like a reasonable adult, I flipped my shit and unloaded a couple decades’ worth of issues on you. That wasn’t fair.” She pressed her lips together. “But I still think marriage isn’t the answer. Not like this—not in response to being pregnant.”
Aaron sank onto the bed and looked up at her. Her pain was reflected in his eyes, and it struck her that these two days apart hadn’t been any easier on him than they had been on her. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “After the doctor’s appointment... After that scare...” He shook his head. “All I could think about was that if we lost the baby for some reason, I could survive it. I’d be upset and sad because I’ve gotten used to the idea of being a father, but I’d survive. But losing the baby meant that I’d lose you in the process. You made it more than clear that the only reason you got back in contact with me again was because you were pregnant. The thought of losing you...”
He’d proposed because he wanted a way to link her to him, an assurance that she wouldn’t leave him.
Becka crossed the room to sit on the bed next to him. “You know, you could have just asked me if I planned on bolting if that happened.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she winced. “Then again, I probably could have been more forthcoming with the fact that I’m in love with you.”
“You’re in love with me.” He went so still next to her, she didn’t think he drew breath.
She stared hard at the door—anything was easier than looking at him in that moment. “Yeah, well, I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re kind of the greatest guy I’ve ever met and I’d have to be crazy not to fall for you.” The next part was harder to get out. “I have issues, Aaron. They aren’t going to magically disappear because of the love of a good man, but I’m trying to work on them. But you can’t leave like that. I sat in that penthouse for over twenty-four hours wondering if you’d left me, or if something had happened to you and... We’re going to fight. I don’t know a couple that doesn’t fight—even Lucy and Gideon—and I need to know that you aren’t going to hurt me like that again. I can deal with the arguing. I can’t deal with you disappearing on me.”
“I’m so fucking sorry.” He lifted her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “I promise I’ll never do it again.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Good. Because next time I’m liable to hunt your ass down and cause a scene.”
“That won’t be necessary.” He pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “Come home, minx. I promise not to throw you over my shoulder and sprint to the nearest courthouse.”
She laughed, though the sound faded almost as soon as she’d given it voice. “I don’t know where we go from here. I was kind of hoping you had a plan.”
“I don’t.” He cuddled her closer. “Turns out, plans don’t save you from fucking up from time to time. I love you. You love me. We’re going to have a baby together. Maybe we don’t have to have every little detail ironed out right now.”
God, she loved this man. But he wasn’t the only one who would be making compromises. Becka looked up at him. “I’m not ready to rush into marriage or anything but...maybe let’s not take it completely off the table?”
“If you’re sure.”
She laughed and, this time, it was downright joyous. “Oh, I’m sure. You’re stuck with me, Aaron Livingston.” She leaned up and kissed him. “But I’ll be honest—I’m going to go balls out when I propose to you. Think those crazy prom proposals, but just downright extra.”
He grinned against her mouth. “I can get onboard with this plan.”
EPILOGUE
“GET READY TO PUSH.”
Aaron braced himself behind Becka and tried not to wince as she clasped his fingers in a death grip. Her entire body went tense, little ripples making waves in the birthing pool they sat in. He couldn’t help her. He couldn’t step in and take away the pain radiating from every pore of her body as she tried to bring their daughter into the world. All he could do was hold her and let her crush his fingers and breathe the way they’d been taught in their birthing classes.
As the contraction passed, Becka slumped against him. “Ouch.”
“You’re doing wonderfully,” Lucy said as she mopped Becka’s brow. She had her dark hair tied back and a look of concentration on her face, as if she could will Becka to have an uncomplicated labor.
“You are,” the midwife confirmed. “The baby’s in position and engaged. A few more pushes and you’ll get to hold your daughter.”
Aaron smoothed back the damp hair from Becka’s forehead. “I love you. You’re amazing.”
Becka huffed out a strained laugh. “I’m thinking murderous thoughts about you right now.”
“You can tell me all about them if it would help.” He reached between them and gently massaged the small of her back. The contractions were coming fast now, and they had less than twenty seconds before the next one by his count.
“No energy.” She drew in a long breath. “Here we go.”
“You’ve got this, Becka. Almost there.” Lucy mimicked the breathing pattern they’d been taught to use.
The battle to bring their daughter into the world was exactly that—a battle. Becka bore down with a determined silence that scared the shit out of him. There was no screaming. No yelling. None of the things he’d read about and tried to emotionally prepare for so he could support her. Nothing but a focus that left him totally and completely in awe of her.
“This is it, you’re doing great. Don’t stop. Harder, Becka. Push harder. You can do it!” The midwife’s commanding tone had Aaron biting back a snarl; Lucy held her breath in utter stillness, but Becka let loose a muted shriek and the midwife crowed in delight. “Here she is!”
He barely got a glimpse of a wrinkled pink face before their baby let loose a scream to shake the rafters. The midwife grinned. “Healthy set of lungs.”
Things moved quickly after that. Aaron could barely process that the event had finally happened—that they were parents—in the midst of all the insanity. Lucy fielding the news out to Allie and their men. Nurses coming and going. Becka being checked out and pronounced perfectly fine.
Both Aaron and Becka changed into dry clothing while their daughter was weighed and measured and underwent all manner of poking and prodding.
Finally—finally—the last nurse shut the door and they were alone.
He pushed out of the chair he’d been relegated to and crossed over to sink onto the edge of the bed. Becka lay with her eyes half-closed, their daughter lying against h
er naked chest. Aaron carefully stroked the baby’s downy-soft hair. “She’s here.”
“She is.” Becka smiled, and a tear escaped the corner of her eye. “She’s perfect. More perfect than I ever dared dream.”
“You both are.” He pressed a soft kiss to their daughter’s head and then another to Becka’s lips. “What do you think? Is she a Summer or an Evangeline?” The two names they’d finally settled on after months of rigorous debate and even a fight or two.
She looked down into the baby’s sleeping face. “Summer. Definitely Summer. She’s been in this world a grand total of two hours and she’s already brightened everyone’s life she touched.” Becka made a face. “Oh God, motherhood is going to turn me into one of those people, isn’t it? I’m so happy I can’t even think straight, and if I had my phone, I’d already be sending pictures to everyone in my contact list.”
He chuckled. “I already texted a picture of her, along with her weight, length and time of birth, to all our friends and family.” He’d restrained himself to a single picture, but he already had half a dozen in his phone. Aaron grinned. “How long do you think it will be before Roman stages an intervention?”
“Two months—tops.” She smiled back. Becka reached out and covered his hand with her own. “Hey, Aaron?”
“Yes, minx?”
She nodded at the bag they’d packed and repacked three separate times in the last month, convinced that they’d forgotten something important every time. “Can you grab my purse out of there?”
Curious, he dug through the bag until he found the tiny clutch that she’d insisted on. He handed it over and watched as Becka used her free hand to dig inside it. She paused. “Okay, so in my head, this would be all soft lighting and I wouldn’t be feeling like I’ve just been ripped in half and look like day-old roadkill, but squint a little and pretend with me.” She pressed her lips together. “Aaron Livingston, you are the best man I’ve ever met. Better than I deserve, and I damn well know it. I can’t promise that your organization and borderline compulsive need to research things won’t drive me to drink sometimes, but I do promise that I’ll love you for the rest of our lives.