“I’m sure it is.”
“Da!” Wyatt was trying to get Aaron’s attention, but the way he relished his new word–and what it represented–made Presley feel worse.
When Aaron glanced over, Wyatt opened his mouth wide, wanting another spoonful of Aaron’s tomato bisque soup.
Aaron complied, then used his own napkin to wipe Wyatt’s chin as if he’d been feeding Wyatt since he could eat solid food.
“I can’t believe he likes that soup,” Presley muttered.
Aaron laughed when Wyatt smacked his tray. “He loves it.”
“I can see that.” As she watched Aaron continue to feed their son, it felt as if Wyatt was already defecting. But that was nothing compared to a few minutes earlier, when they’d walked in and Wyatt had leaned over so
Aaron
could carry him. That had taken Presley by complete surprise—and heightened her worst fears. Once again, she’d been pushed out into the cold.
She put down her fork.
“Whoa, you’ve hardly touched that,” Aaron said.
She pushed it toward him. He’d always finished whatever she left. She used to save part of her meals for him, just because she knew how much he liked to eat. “I’m not very hungry.”
“Do you want a massage?” he asked. “I realize you’re the professional, but that means you probably never get one yourself. And I could give you one tonight while we watch a movie.”
“I have a class first thing in the morning. I’d better get home.”
He stared at her as if he couldn’t quite figure out what was going on. But then the waitress came with the check.
* * *
The workweek passed with agonizing slowness for Aaron. Maybe that was because he didn’t want to be at the shop. He didn’t want to be traipsing all the way to Reno, either, doing everything necessary to open the new business. He’d finally found a location he liked and was currently in negotiations on the lease, but he preferred to spend his time with Wyatt. As soon as he got off at night, he’d hurry home to shower and drive over to Presley’s, where he’d either watch Wyatt so she could work, or play with him while she was there.
Wyatt had grown familiar with him–enough that he came running the second he heard Aaron’s voice. That was especially gratifying. But Presley had gone in the other direction. She’d become very withdrawn. Sometimes he’d catch her standing in the hallway, watching as he gave Wyatt a piggyback ride or tossed him in the air, but when he invited her to join them, she’d say she had to clean the kitchen or the bathroom or pay bills.
One night when Aaron was there, Riley showed up and Aaron actually watched Wyatt while they went out. That was on Thursday. He thought he was handling the whole thing okay until he put Wyatt to sleep. Then he spent the next three hours pacing in the living room, wondering when she’d be back. There wasn’t much in Whiskey Creek, other than Sexy Sadie’s, that stayed open after eleven on a weeknight.
When he finally heard voices at the door, he hurried over, planning to yank it open. He didn’t want Riley kissing her on the stoop—or anywhere else. But he caught himself at the last second and returned to the couch.
“How was it?” he asked when she came in—thankfully, alone.
“Fun. Sorry we were out so late. I know you have to get up early.”
“I don’t mind helping out.”
“I appreciate it.”
She obviously expected him to leave, but he was tired of the strain between them. He’d been trying his best to be friendly. He’d even asked her out for Friday or Saturday, but she’d turned him down—said she’d probably have to work late both nights. He’d then reminded her that they were supposed to be doing the artificial insemination this weekend, if Cheyenne’s projections proved accurate, and she’d said she’d be available, which made him feel she’d just been making excuses.
“I bet he liked that dress.”
She glanced down as if she couldn’t remember which one she’d put on. “Oh, I’ve had this for a while. Cost me four bucks at the secondhand store.”
“Looks good on you.”
“Thanks.” She dropped her keys in her purse.
“I mean it,” he said. She’d always had a nice body, but these days she could stop traffic—not that she seemed to notice or trust the extra attention.
“I appreciate that,” she replied, but those words were as empty of conviction as the initial thanks. “How’d Wyatt do tonight?”
“Grady came over. We taught Wyatt to say Uncle.” The one subject they should be able to discuss was their son. Wyatt had been such an incredible addition to his life, had given him the purpose he’d been lacking. But instead of drawing Presley closer to him, any mention of Wyatt and the fun they had or the things Aaron had taught him only seemed to push her further away.
“It’s great that he suddenly has so many men in his life,” she said.
Aaron stood. “Really?”
She didn’t look at him as she put her purse on the coffee table. “Of course.”
“I’m not getting the impression you honestly feel that way.” She’d asked him to take almost everything he’d bought over to his place.
“What are you talking about?” she asked. “I’ve let you see Wyatt every night. I’ve put no restrictions on your time with him. None.”
“And I’m grateful for that, but...something’s wrong.”
“No. I understand that you’ve only got...what? Five weeks? I’m trying to let you have as much time with him as possible.”
“I’m not talking about Wyatt, damn it!”
Her eyes widened. “What else could you complain about? What else do I owe you?”
Not quite sure how to explain his frustration, he advanced on her. “You don’t
owe
me anything. I don’t want you to owe me anything. It’s just...sometimes you look at me as if...as if you still want me. But the second I try to respond, you do whatever you can to avoid me.”
“That’s not true.”
“It’s absolutely true. When we went out the other night, you wouldn’t let me within two feet of you.”
Her gaze shifted to her favorite chair, but sitting there meant she’d have to walk past him. “I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”
“The wrong idea about what?”
“That we’re seeing each other!”
“
I
thought we
were
seeing each other!”
“Not in the way they might assume.”
“Meaning we haven’t been to bed. But that was the agreement. I’m giving you what I believed you wanted—something official and respectable.”
“Official?” she scoffed. “You never see
any
woman in
that
way.”
“There’s always a first.”
“And why would that first be with me?”
“Maybe you don’t want to acknowledge it, but there are still a lot of...feelings between us.”
She backed up as he came closer. “Aaron, there’ve never been any feelings on your side.”
“How do
you
know?”
“Trust me, I’d be able to tell.”
“Then why does it drive me nuts when you go out with Riley?”
Her mouth fell open. Obviously, she was surprised by the anger in his voice. But she couldn’t move any farther back. “I don’t know what you want from me,” she said.
“Yes, you do.” He’d promised he wouldn’t touch her, not unless she asked him to, but he missed her too much, missed her more than ever now that he was seeing her every day.
Slipping his hands around her waist, he lifted her up to meet his mouth. He expected her to shove him away. But once their mouths met and their tongues touched, she made a sound of submission, and his body instantly reacted.
“There you go, Pres. Let me touch you,” he whispered. “I’m dying to touch you.”
He wasn’t sure she believed that, either. She seemed suspicious of everything he said or did, but when she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, he knew she was going to take what she wanted—and that meant he’d get what he wanted, too.
24
H
e’d be gone in five weeks; she needed to take advantage of this opportunity. That was all Presley would let herself think—until she’d dragged him down the hall and into her bedroom. She’d wanted to join their bodies as fast and hard as that first encounter after she’d come home, when they’d been carried away by a tsunami of desire. But he insisted they slow down so he could take his time and make love to her “right.”
That was when she started to have second thoughts. As long as he got what he wanted, why would he care about slowing down? He’d never troubled himself before. He’d always been a good lover, always made sure she was as fulfilled as he was by the end, but he’d do that for any woman he was with.
Tonight he was taking their encounter so seriously that she could easily get the wrong idea, easily believe that it might be more significant than it was, and that frightened her. It was a delusion. Somehow she had to keep from falling into the same pit of false hope she’d escaped these past two years, and she didn’t see how she could do that with the emotions that were pouring through her.
She would’ve stopped him. She sensed the danger and had finally regained the presence of mind she’d momentarily lost. But she’d waited too long. She didn’t want to be a tease, someone who’d get a man this excited and then bail out at the last second. She’d always delivered before; of course he’d feel he could depend on her. So she tried to detach her mind instead. This couldn’t mean anything to her. She couldn’t hang on every kiss, every sigh, every touch.
It’s just physical sensation. Mutual pleasure. There’s no meaning behind it
.
But he noticed the change in her right away, and forced her to look up at him.
“What’s wrong? Where’d you go?”
She wouldn’t explain,
couldn’t
explain. Revealing her conflicted emotions would make her that much more vulnerable. So she gave him a devilish smile, urged him onto his back and made sure he couldn’t think of anything except her tongue moving over the most sensitive part of his body.
Despite that, he tried to stop her at the last second. He held her head and gasped that he wanted to finish inside her. But she told him that would be too risky, that it could result in another pregnancy even if they used a condom, and pushed him over the edge.
After that, she had no compunction about sending him home. He couldn’t complain that she’d somehow misled him, since she’d given him what he’d been hoping for. So she got up immediately and retrieved his clothes.
“Thanks for watching Wyatt tonight,” she said.
He made no move to take the articles she held out to him. “That’s it?” he said. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
“It’s not like getting you off is a chore. And leaving you unsatisfied is not how I want this to end.”
“I’m fine, like I said. I’m just...not in the mood, that’s all.”
“You were in the mood a second ago.”
“I’m tired.”
He seemed completely baffled. “But you wouldn’t have to do anything!”
“You’ve got to be tired, too. And you have to work in the morning.”
Still, he didn’t move. “Have you decided you’d rather be with Riley?”
Usually when he spoke of Riley she could detect some jealousy, even a little arrogance—Aaron’s competitive nature coming out. But when he asked this question, he sounded like a hurt little boy. Was there some fear, or maybe shock, in there? Or was she imagining things again?
He was probably just trying to make sure she couldn’t later accuse him of being a poor lover.
“I haven’t slept with Riley,” she said.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I don’t
know
who I’d rather have in my bed. I’m not in that type of relationship with anyone.”
He took his clothes, but tossed them back on the floor. “Come here. If you’re tired, we’ll just sleep.”
She didn’t want him to stay. She’d have to be on her guard for the rest of the night if she had him in her bed. But he pulled her down next to him, and even though she faced away to sleep on her side, he wrapped his arms around her.
“You can’t stay overnight! Riley might see your truck here when he drives to work in the morning,” she said, fighting her natural inclination to sink into him and cuddle.
“Relax.” His hand was already sliding down her stomach. She stopped him before he could reach his target, but when she woke up the next morning, he held her arms above her head and worked such wicked magic with his mouth and fingers that she was gasping his name and begging him to take her.
“I thought you weren’t interested,” he said.
She stared helplessly up at him but refused to speak. She’d always been interested, but why give him the pleasure of admitting it?
“Come on, tell me what you want,” he coaxed.
Pursing her lips, she shook her head, and he frowned.
“You don’t play very nice these days.”
“I let you into my bed.” Although she was trying to sound as if she was in control of herself, her voice was thick with desire. “What I gave you last night was pretty nice.”
“I can’t argue with that, but I’ve never been one to settle for less than I want. So let’s see what we can do to make you a little more...pliable.” Lowering his head, he brought her to the brink of climax—then stopped and grinned up at her. “I’m asking you again. What do you want?”
Her body was quivering with anticipation. He had her so worked up it was impossible to deny him. “I want you,” she admitted.
He raised his eyebrows. “You could’ve said that less grudgingly.”
She swallowed hard but added nothing else. Although it was a small rebellion, to her mind it was an important one. But she knew he wasn’t going to settle for that when he licked his finger and ran it over the tip of her breast. “How badly?” he breathed in her ear.
She glared up at him. “Quit torturing me.”
“I’m more than willing to give you anything you want. As soon as you tell me how much you want
me
.”
“You know how much.”
He covered her but didn’t take it any further. “More than Riley?”
She closed her eyes. “Yes.”
“About damn time you admitted it.” He made a show of putting on a condom. Then he paused to stare down at her, and she thought she saw something unusual in his expression, something far more possessive than she’d ever seen there before. But she couldn’t rely on anything that happened in the throes of passion, when emotions were often exaggerated or distorted. She knew that from experience. She was too far gone to correctly analyze what he might be feeling, and he didn’t give her much time before he finally drove inside her.
“That’s it,” she breathed.
His teeth flashed in a smile. Then he brought her to climax again and again and again.
As each new wave of pleasure hit, the satisfaction on his face increased, but he wasn’t as in control as he was trying to pretend. Every muscle grew taut as he fought harder and harder to stop himself from reaching his own climax. “Again,” he told her, his voice ragged.
From that point on, their lovemaking grew even more intense. They were in the middle of a wordless war, where pleasure was their most powerful weapon, one they could each wield with skill and accuracy. She was battling to hang on to her heart, and he was battling to show her just how easily he could reclaim it. But that struggle made every sensation much more acute. Every nerve seemed to be carefully attuned to Aaron’s touch, his voice, even his scent.
“You’ve become stubborn,” he muttered when he stopped long enough to tell her she was beautiful, perfect, and she merely scowled at him. She wasn’t being stubborn; she was learning from the past. She would
not
allow him dominance. No way. Not like before. And because he could sense her resistance, he kept trying to overcome her skepticism and entice her into submission.
Nothing but their power struggle seemed to matter—until they heard Cheyenne’s voice from the living room.
“Pres?”
Aaron rolled away and dove for his clothes. Presley scrambled off the bed, too, and hurried to dress. But it wasn’t easy to pull her clothes over her sensitized, sweat-dampened skin. Weak and shaky, she called, “Hang on, Chey. I’ll be right out.”
“What’s going on?” her sister called back.
“I’m, uh, running late.”
“But you’re okay? Wyatt’s okay?”
“I’m fine. Wyatt’s still asleep.”
“Mama!” Wyatt called from his crib. “Mama!”
“Or he was,” she added.
“You haven’t even gotten him up?” Cheyenne asked. “What happened to arriving at the studio early? You were supposed to have him at my house half an hour ago.”
Presley pressed a finger to her mouth to signal that Aaron shouldn’t say anything. Obviously, her sister hadn’t seen his truck or she would’ve mentioned it. There was still a chance he might escape her notice. “I overslept.”
“You’re going to miss your class if you don’t hurry. You have maybe thirty minutes. I’ll take care of Wyatt’s breakfast and get him packed up. That should help.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Presley could hear her sister talking baby talk as she got Wyatt out of bed. “Just stay in my bathroom until we’re gone, okay?” she whispered to Aaron. “You can lock up and leave after that.”
“Why do I need to hide? We’re both consenting adults. We’re both unattached. We even have a kid together, for crying out loud. Why can’t I say hello and let it go at that?”
“Because I don’t want her to know what a damn fool I am!”
She hadn’t meant to offend him. That comment had been an extension of her inner dialogue and the way she was berating herself for falling back into bed with him. But when he looked as though she’d just slapped him, she realized how he’d taken it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that like it sounded.”
He stabbed a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you did,” he said, and walked out.
The house shook as he slammed the door and, a moment later, Cheyenne poked her head into the room. “Was that who I think it was?”
Presley released a gusty sigh and dropped onto her bed. “Yeah.”
* * *
Riley showed up for Presley’s Friday morning yoga class. She thought that was so nice—given his resistance to trying it every other time she’d mentioned it—that she agreed to go for coffee with him when the class ended. Apparently, he was between jobs, and her next appointment wasn’t until noon so they both had time. And because he’d come to her class, he’d missed his usual get-together with his friends at Black Gold.
Rather than leave her sister babysitting during the interim, she called to invite Chey, too. Chey had also skipped out on Friday-morning coffee, since she’d come to get Wyatt, so she pushed him over in his stroller.
“Isn’t it a gorgeous day?” she asked as she joined them at an outdoor table.
Presley slid the cappuccino she’d purchased for her sister closer to Cheyenne. Then she unfastened her son’s seat belt and pulled Wyatt into her lap. Until now, she hadn’t even noticed the weather. She hadn’t been feeling particularly energetic since Aaron left. She’d wanted to call him ever since, to apologize, but she hadn’t had a chance. She’d been in a rush to get to the studio. Then she’d led her class. And now she was entertaining Riley.
She glanced at the street, searching for Aaron’s truck in the traffic flowing by. She doubted she’d see it. He was probably at work. But she looked for him whenever she was out and about in Whiskey Creek. It was a habit she’d formed when she’d first fallen in love with him.
“Did you have a good turnout this morning?” Cheyenne dropped her wallet and house keys on the table before taking a seat.
“Not bad.” Presley smiled at Riley. “I had my first guy.”
Cheyenne looked appropriately impressed. “Wow, Riley. Breaking the gender norms here in Gold Country, are you?”
“You couldn’t tell by my yoga clothes?” he joked.
“I saw the shorts, but I assumed you were playing basketball or tennis.”
“Nope.” He swelled out his chest. “I was doing the lotus and the... What was that other pose? The full owl?”
“The full pigeon,” Presley corrected.
“I hope you got a picture of that,” Cheyenne said. “Maybe we’ll be able to blackmail him with it someday.”
Presley might have enjoyed the banter if she wasn’t so preoccupied with the way Aaron had left. But those last few seconds, and the look on his face, kept replaying in her mind. “Next time,” she mumbled, and gave Wyatt a piece of biscotti.
Riley dug through the packets of sugar looking for a Sweet’N Low; he couldn’t find one, so he went inside.
“I’m worried about Riley,” Cheyenne said, the shade from the table’s umbrella dividing her face into light and dark.
Presley leaned back. “Why?”
“He really likes you. And after what I saw this morning...”
“He knows I’m still in love with Aaron.”
“But does he know you’re still
sleeping
with him?”
Did she need to tell him? She and Riley had exchanged a few chaste kisses, but they’d never even made out. She wasn’t sure their relationship had reached the stage where she owed him that kind of information. She wasn’t sure it ever would. “Riley and I are just friends.”
“He wouldn’t show up for your yoga class if he wasn’t trying to impress you.”
Presley shrugged. “Did you suggest it?”
“No.”
“I know you were coaching him.”
“Not anymore. Not since Aaron found out about Wyatt.”
“Aaron will be leaving in five weeks, anyway.”
“You think your...infatuation will end there?”
“It’ll have to, won’t it?”
Cheyenne didn’t seem convinced. “The way he walked out this morning...is it going to be okay to have him over again tonight?”
“Why would I have him over again?” she asked, shifting in her seat.
With a sound of impatience, Cheyenne lowered her voice. “For the artificial insemination. What else?”
“That’s
tonight?
”
“I told you it would probably be this weekend.”
“But you never confirmed it.”
“Because I’m waiting for him to answer my text to make sure he’s still on board.”
“How long have you been waiting?”