Duty: A Secret Baby Romance (12 page)

“I wasn't sure if I was going to call or not,” I admit, sighing. “The idea kinda scared the hell out of me.”

“I know what you mean,” Lindsey says, letting out a shaky laugh. “Seeing you today was like seeing a ghost.”

“I hope I'm a little livelier than that,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Lindsey's chuckle is more relaxed, and I find myself leaning back onto my couch, my body thrilling at the sound. It feels like the old days again, and I relax a little bit more. “Yeah, I guess so. I'm sorry if I surprised you.”

“You gave me a lot of surprises,” I tell her. “And to be honest, I've got about a hundred thousand questions running around in my head.”

“I figured. I could see it in your eyes. If it helps any, I've had my own questions, and there have been things I've wanted to tell you,” Lindsey says, her voice dropping. I don't know if she's doing it intentionally, but she's back in that sexy, throaty whispering purr that used to drive me crazy when we dated, the voice she used when we were making out in the woods, her fingernails dragging down my back, and my cock twitches at the memory.

“I know it's dangerous, but I have to see you,” I tell her. “These questions, some of them aren't the type that should be asked over the phone while I'm sitting in my ACU pants and wondering if I can wear them for work tomorrow for Sergeant's Time.”

“I live on post, Aaron. There's no way that you could come by and not be noticed.”

“That's okay,” I hastily reply. “I rent a house off post. It's in a quiet neighborhood, and there isn't another soldier in my entire block. Hell, my neighbors are two gay guys, and the house on the other side next to me is empty.”

“I don't know, Aaron. It feels . . . dangerous,” Lindsey says. “And I don't mean because of the Army regulation issues.”

“I know,” I reply. “But Lindsey . . . I think this is something that has to be done. Bring Lance, and I'll set up the little gas grill I've got. I'll make some food. Are you single?”

“I am,” Lindsey says, then chuckles. “A good man is hard to find as a single mom.”

“A good man . . .” I muse, thinking how that saying could be switched so easily. A good woman is hard to find, too. “So, what do you say? Civvies. I'll make sure to pick up my dirty t-shirts, and if you're lucky, my socks too.”

Lindsey laughs, another little thrill running down my body as she does. “Okay, okay, how can I turn that down? Saturday afternoon, say one o'clock?”

“That's great,” I reply. “So . . . what does Lance like to eat? I assume he can eat barbecue food?”

“Keep it mild, but if you pick up the stuff to make cheeseburgers, he's a happy camper. Put cheddar on it, and he'll be your best friend for life.”

“Cheddar it is then. Any other requests?”

“Yeah,” Lindsey says softly. “No sugary stuff. I like putting him down for a nap on weekends around two thirty or so for an hour, and I think you might want some privacy for your questions. Mine too.”

“Well, it might not be his bed at home, but this couch of mine is soft and fluffy. In fact, I rack out on it often. I'm sure he'll like it,” I tell her, running my hand over my comforter from my Academy days. This 'green girl' has seen a lot of nights wrapped around my shoulders. “So how about instead of one, maybe twelve thirty? I'd like to talk to him a little more.”

“We'll see, Aaron,” Lindsey says. “But I'll see you Saturday. What's your address?”

I give her my street address and tell her the nearest gate on post to use to get there easily. I hear Lindsey writing, then she hums. “Okay. Aaron, I can't promise you all the answers. And you may not like the ones I give.”

“I know. But I can’t wait anyway.”

“That helps me a lot, hearing you say that. Even if we know that could be more difficult than we want to admit,” Lindsey says reassuringly. “Okay, I'll see you Saturday. Good night, Aaron.”

“Good night, Lindsey.”

I hang up, smiling to myself. I'll have a busy Friday night, but that's okay. There's a twenty-four-hour Walmart down the street from me, so even if work runs late, I'll be good. I can pick up all the supplies I need to make a decent barbecue that any three-year-old would enjoy.

Right now, though, my green girl is looking very comfortable, and I could use an early bedtime myself. Time to get some rack.

P
ulling
up outside Aaron's house, I can't help it, I'm feeling nervous. I don't feel like I dressed up too much, just some jeans and a blouse, but still, I did take a little bit of time to put on some light makeup, something I don't normally do in uniform. Even Lance notices, and as he looks out on Aaron's house, he's fidgeting in his seat. “Mommy, is this where we're having lunch?”

“Yes buddy. Now remember, Aaron's an officer, but he and I knew each other before you were born, and he was really interested in meeting you. So we're going to be on our best behavior, right?” I ask, getting out of my seat and going around, unbuckling him. I shoulder his diaper bag, just the quick one since the rest of his stuff is staying here in the car and lift him out, setting him down to wait for me. He's wearing his big boy pants now anyway. He's very proud of keeping them clean. He'll be good.

Lance takes my hand and we walk up the short curved pathway to Aaron's front door, where I ring the doorbell. It's twelve forty-one, and I hear footsteps inside the house. “Lindsey?”

“It's us,” I say, opening the door carefully.

“Come on in,” Aaron says, coming out of what I guess is his kitchen. He's wearing an apron and a t-shirt, I can't tell the type, along with jeans that are nearly an exact match for mine, and I can't help but marvel at how handsome he looks. He's a bit more muscular than before, he's probably gained some weight with not doing triathlons all the time anymore, but it's good weight, all in his arms and shoulders. “I was just getting the burgers together.”

“Burgers?” Lance asks, his eyes twinkling. “Really?”

“All beef, premium grade-A Angus burgers,” Aaron says, squatting down and offering Lance a fist, the two bumping moments later. “I was just about to put the cheese on each of them before taking them out to the grill. Want to lend a hand?”

“Yeah!” Lance says, charging into the kitchen. Aaron lets him by before looking at me, and a smile comes to his face.

“I'm glad you came,” he says softly, stepping closer. His eyes widen, and he sees the chain around my neck. “Is that?”

“Yes,” I answer, touching the chain. I made sure to wear a shirt that lets it be visible all the time, a sign to him even before we've asked question one. “And before you ask . . . no, I don't take it off. Come on, the rest can wait until after we get some burgers.”

We go in the kitchen, and I'm shocked to see Lance with two slices of cheese half-stuffed in his mouth, a guilty look on his face as we come in.

“No worries, that's why I bought a whole pound block,” Aaron says with a laugh. “I love good cheese too.”

To say that Aaron is preparing a feast is an understatement. Six burgers, all the pre-formed type but still thick and juicy-looking, wait on the platter, along with a plate of cheese and other fixings all ready. “Nice spread.”

“When I invite a big guy like Lance over, I gotta do it with style,” Aaron says, his eyes twinkling. He gives me a knee-quivering look but then turns his attention to Lance, and for the next forty-five minutes, I'm able to sit back and relax, watching as my son and his father meet each other for the first time. Lance doesn't know it, of course, but that doesn't affect the way he reacts to Aaron. And while Aaron and I haven’t had the talk yet, it’s pretty obvious he knows, or at least has a strong suspicion.

Lance, for his part, adores Aaron, feeling included and needed as an assistant in cooking all the burgers up. He even gets to put the cheese on, Aaron using the gas control to make sure he doesn't get burned while Lance carefully puts one slice on three of the burgers. “Can you go get me the buns too now?”

“Sure,” Lance says, hurrying inside the house. It leaves me and Aaron alone, and he looks at me, smiling. His eyes are still smoldering, but it's different now. He's truly happy to be spending time with
us
.

“He's a good little boy,” Aaron says, keeping his voice low. “You've done a great job with him.”

“Thanks. And thank you for focusing on him,” I tell Aaron, looking over my shoulder. “It's nice to see.”

He smiles but gives me that
we need to talk later
look. While most of the guys who have met me have just ignored Lance to directly focus on what's between my legs, a few have tried to use him as a prop to work their way into my bed. Needless to say, it didn’t work. “Come on, these burgers have about two minutes left.”

We sit down to eat, and Lance plows through his burger and even his veggies at hyper speed, something that shocks me. Like most three-year-olds, he normally hates veggies, but when I try one, I realize what Aaron did. They've been soaking in sweet pickling vinegar and have a tangy crunch to them. “Where'd you learn this?”

“You get to swapping all sorts of weird stuff during Ranger school,” Aaron says with a shrug. “One of the guys had a hobby of cooking. I added just a little bit of sugar. I hope it's not too much?”

I munch on a carrot stick and shake my head. “Perfect. Thank you.”

After Lance goes down for his nap, snoring away on Aaron's spread out comforter on his couch, I help Aaron wash up the dishes, drying them after he washes them and setting them in his rack. “Did you enjoy lunch?”

“We both did,” I say with a small smile. “I've said it a lot today, but I'll say it again. Thank you.”

Aaron grins, then nods as he scrubs his spatula until it gleams and hands it to me. “I didn't want you to feel like I went to great lengths. I mean, I know that's not your style. Or at least it wasn't. Some of our best times were with about two bucks in snacks and walking through the woods.”

I laugh softly, nodding. “That's true. We never did need much to have a good time.”

Aaron grows serious and turns to look at me. “I guess it's that time, huh?”

“I guess,” I say, not frowning, but my smile dimming. “This isn’t a conversation I’ve been looking forward to, you know. So if I stumble or say something stupid, can you cut me some slack?”

Aaron's tense little laugh and nod reassures me a little bit, but I’m not quite convinced. He goes over to the small dining room table he's got, where we both sit down. I can see him reach for my hand, but then he pulls back, uncertain. “Sorry. Old habits are popping up seeing you. You . . . you haven't changed that much since West Point.”

I shake my head, looking back over my shoulder at the living room, then at him. “I've changed a lot, I think.”

Aaron follows my gaze, nodding. “Uhm, can I ask?”

“Yes.”

A heavy silence drops between us as Aaron reads the meaning of my words. When he speaks again, there's a hint of anger. I guess I can understand that. “When did you find out?”

“When I went through processing at Fort Lewis. Best guess, Lance was conceived that last weekend in New York city,” I tell him quietly. “Please don't be angry, Aaron. If I could have told you, I would have. Lance . . . Lance is the greatest gift you ever gave me.”

Aaron’s hand is clenched, but he's trying to keep himself under control, and there's only a hint of tension in his voice when he speaks up again. “I understand not saying anything officially, even if I don't like it. But Lindsey . . . why not tell me at least unofficially? My God, what were you thinking?”

Before I can say anything, Aaron gets up, his eyes blazing. And even though all I’ve done is confirm what he already knew, he's pissed, and I worry. Aaron takes a deep breath, letting it out in a shuddering exhalation. “Excuse me, Lindsey. I thought I was ready to hear it. I mean, I suspected it since I first laid eyes on him. I've spent a few days expecting this, but I need to take a moment outside.”

I nod, swallowing my fear as Aaron stalks out of the house and into his back yard, where I watch him pace back and forth. While I can't hear him, I can read his lips as he talks to himself.

Four years. Four fucking years!

What the hell was she doing, not telling me? Did she not think I could handle it?

Fuck! A kid? How the fuck? I mean, I know how the fuck it happened, we never did use protection, but . . . FUCK!

Aaron rubs his hands through his hair, squatting down, and I lose sight of what he's saying. Still, I can read the tension in his back, and I worry. Did I make a mistake coming here? I get up. Perhaps this has been a bad idea. There's too much time, too many long nights between who we were and who we are now, and I don't know if that gap can be bridged.

I go out to the back yard, where Aaron is still squatting, and I see that he's clenched his hands so tightly his knuckles are white. I keep my distance. I don't want to have him lash out and do something we'll both regret. “Aaron . . . maybe I should take Lance and leave.”

“No . . . don't,” Aaron says, looking up at me. “Lindsey, you owe me an answer. I asked you why, and I've been out here trying to figure that out. Why? Why didn't you tell me?”

He gets up and walks toward me, the anger being replaced with uncertainty and hurt. I've hurt him, and I never understood just how much until right now. I reach out, and for the first time in four years, I take his hand. He's still strong and gentle, and part of me yearns for more already. He goes tense, but he doesn't pull away, something that eases my fears a little at least. “Because you’re a great man with a bright future. I knew that four years ago, and seeing you this afternoon with Lance, I know that you haven't changed. Because I can see in your eyes the same crazy, noble thoughts that were running through your head four years ago in New York outside the museum.”

“And what thoughts were those?” Aaron asks. I can still tell he’s trying to control his anger. His cheek is twitching like he does when he's pissed off and trying to control it. “Was it all that bad? Was being with me all that bad?”

I shake my head, then nod. “Yes and no. I knew we were playing with borrowed time. A fantasy. And I couldn't destroy your life over that fantasy. You never asked for Lance, and while I know you'd never have denied him, I couldn't hurt you.”

Aaron sighs, looking down at our hands. “I guess that's one way to look at it. But Lindsey, seeing you in the commissary the other day, I had a thousand questions and none at all. It was hard for me not to just hug you right there, our uniforms be damned. I wanted the fantasy back.”

“And since then?” I ask, hopeful but at the same time scared. “A lot's happened in just those few days.”

Aaron nods, then looks up into my eyes, his anger mostly replaced with the look that I've missed so much, the look that says he's here, and that he's focused on nothing but me. “Tell me. Tell me everything.”

There's an intensity in his eyes, and I feel that old familiar twinge inside me, and I clamp down on it tightly. I can't let it happen this time. “Well, you know the big point. I started feeling ill during my trip across country on my move. I took an extra few days to see my family. When I got to Lewis, they found out that I was pregnant. My CO was a little pissed when I didn't say who the father was, but they respected my choice. So Lance was born with the father's space left blank, and I've never told him. For the three years after he was born, I've been juggling being a soldier with being a mommy. Five thirty drop-offs for PT, swapping weekend duties around within the company or working deals with the neighbors to watch Lance when I couldn't do that. Picking him up in the evening, getting him home, and loving weekends and Sergeant's Time Thursdays when I could get off work with the sun still up.”

I don't mean to sound bitter, but it comes out that way, and I see Aaron ready to snap back when I finish, his voice still showing the hurt I inflicted on him. “Lindsey, I know it must have been hard on you all by yourself, but that wasn’t my choice. You didn’t give me that choice! I know why you did it, but I deserved to know.”

I squeeze his hand. “I didn’t mean to come off as bitter. You’re right. That was all on me. I’ve both looked forward to this day and dreaded it at the same time. I knew you deserved to know, but I was scared how you’d react. Not to mention Army regulations.”

He seems to ignore everything I said, and I think he’s trying to keep this conversation from getting heated. Maybe it's for the best. I don't want to yell at Aaron. The closest thing we've ever had to arguments were the first time we had sex and the night he found out I was enlisted. I don't want a third. “I noticed he has my eyes. Maybe my chin too,” Aaron says with a wistful smile. “I think that shocked me as much as seeing you with a little kid.”

“So what about you?” I ask, turning the conversation around. “I mean, I read your uniform, and you've got your diploma hanging in the living room. Nice piece of paper, by the way.”

“Just paper,” Aaron replies hollowly. “But after you left, I did Airborne. I got to be a platoon sergeant first semester, and I worked on the regimental staff second semester. It’s gone well in terms of work since then.”

“And how was the social life?” I ask, trying to be teasing but at the same time curious, but he isn’t amused.

Aaron doesn’t smile and has a serious look on his face. “I’ve kept my head down and focused on work. I dated a little, but nothing serious. I never found anyone right.”

I swallow, stopped by his honesty. I give his fingers a squeeze and try to just change the subject. “I lied to you for so long, and I did it only because I didn't want to break things off with you. I was lonely then, and I took advantage of you.”

Aaron shakes his head. “You never took advantage of me, Lindsey. If anything, I took advantage of you. Even after I found out, other than being a bit scared and pissed off that first time we talked about you being an enlisted, I never felt like we were doing anything other than being two people together. In fact, I was hoping that this, here and now, wouldn't be a one-time thing.”

“Aaron, think about what you’re saying,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Four years ago, we shouldn't have, and now even more, we can't. I told you about Lance because you do deserve that much, but to be part of our lives? What do you think is going to happen, that we're going to sneak off like we used to? That can't happen anymore, Aaron.”

He looks crestfallen, and he nods, swallowing. Looking around, he lets go of my hand and goes inside, me following him back into the kitchen area, where he speaks up again. “I know . . . and I'm not saying that, but Lance deserves more. I'd like a chance to get to know him. I'm not saying I have to be his father, at least, not yet. But . . .”