Clara had offered her guest room but Aria had told me during a rare phone conversation that she didn’t want to invade her sister’s life. When I’d offered her my place, a stone’s throw from Clara and August plus more space than she’d find in a local rental, she’d shocked me by agreeing.
It would be the first time I’d lived with a woman. Not even Heather had occupied my space. I’d never invited her to move in. The weekends when she’d slept over had been bad enough. Makeup all over the bathroom counter. Clothes strewn on the floor for the housekeeper to pick up. Yes, I paid my staff to do that very thing, but for fuck’s sake, the laundry basket had been twenty feet away in the closet.
Thankfully this house was much larger than my Vegas penthouse, and I wouldn’t be sharing a bed. Aria would occupy one end of the house with me in the opposite. If she was sloppy or loud, I’d be too far away to notice.
“I’m going to wait outside,” Clara said. “Your pacing is making me nervous.”
Was I pacing? I stopped midstride. “Fifteen minutes and I’m going to go look for her.”
Clara shook her head. “I’m going to give you some unsolicited advice about Aria.”
“Okay,” I drawled. For the most part, other than playing messenger for logistical details, Clara had stayed far away from the mess that was Aria and me. Though I wasn’t foolish enough to think that if push came to shove, she’d choose me over her sister.
But when we spoke of Aria, Clara maintained a neutral stance. She relayed facts. She let me rant without much commentary. And she didn’t offer more than a shred of insight into the mysterious woman who had consumed my waking thoughts. Until now.
“Aria needs control in her life. After Mom and Dad died, she became the sister in charge. I didn’t . . . She didn’t fall apart. I did.”
My heart twisted as I stood frozen, watching her struggle with whatever she was going to say. Clara didn’t speak much about that time. Or about her time in the junkyard. She’d told me the big picture, but any details had been glossed over. Clara had told me facts. Dates. Nothing more.
And the cold asshole that I was, I had never asked how she’d actually felt.
Now, with Aria coming here, I wanted to know. To truly know what their youth had been like. We were a family of sorts, tied together by this unexpected baby.
“It was Aria’s idea to run away from our uncle’s home.”
“Why?” What had happened with her uncle that had been so terrible that a desolate life in a junkyard had been the better option? “What happened?”
Something crossed Clara’s gaze, a sadness deeper than anything I’d ever seen before. “You’ll have to ask Aria.”
I frowned. “If you won’t tell me, she certainly won’t.”
“Give it time.” She gave me a watery smile. “Don’t take her freedom, Brody. Don’t take her control.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“No, you’re keeping your control. You need to find a way where you can both have it.”
“Share,” I grumbled. I’d hated the word share since kindergarten.
“Yes.” She laughed. “You have to share.”
I turned my back to her, facing the glass. When she walked outside to join her son, I resumed my pacing. It was the only way to keep my vibrating nerves from shaking my bones loose. This restless energy had plagued me since Aria had told me she was pregnant. I’d paced a lot since.
I was becoming a father.
Christ. What had I gotten myself into? It would be easy to blame it on the champagne. I didn’t drink often, certainly not like I had at the wedding. But it hadn’t been a drunken haze. It had been Aria.
Sitting on my counter in that stunning green dress, her feet bare, she’d rendered me helpless. One kiss and I’d been lost.
Lost in her mouth, her hands, her taste. Four months later and I couldn’t get that night out of my head. Her body, sleek and tight, had been a dream. Moving inside her, hovering above her, had been the best sex of my life.
“Don’t,” I told myself. It had been a constant reminder over the past couple months.
Sex could not, would not, enter into this arrangement. Aria and I had a tumultuous relationship at best. Somehow, we had to forge a truce. A friendship would be ideal, but I’d settle for civility.
I just wanted my kid to know me. That was it. Simple. I didn’t need love and adoration. I just wanted knowledge.
Liar. I couldn’t even fool myself.
I wanted love. I wanted my son or daughter to think I was the best man in the world. There was no way I’d pull it off. But that wouldn’t stop me from trying. How was I supposed to be a good father? There hadn’t been a kind and gentle male influence in my life. What did I know about raising a child?
I breathed and swallowed the fears. The insecurities would attack later. Probably for the rest of my life.
Down the driveway, something flickered. I stood straighter, leaning closer to the glass as a white and orange truck emerged. My heart leapt into my throat as I rushed from the window, jogging for the front door. I flung it open and hurried outside, joining Clara in the driveway. August was racing down the concrete, his arms waving as he screeched, “Aunt Aria!”
She honked, the noise more of a muted bark than a blare. Her smile beamed from behind the wheel as she eased the truck to a stop with an ear-splitting squeal of its brakes.
“That is the truck she rented?”
“Shut it.” Clara elbowed me in the ribs, then rushed for the driver’s side door as Aria shoved it open.
Her feet had barely hit the ground before Clara had her in a hug. The two of them held on to one another as August crashed into their sides.
And I stood back, watching.
I wanted to be in that hug. I wanted to be included. Where had that longing come from? It niggled but I shoved it away. When had I turned into such a damn sap? Carmichaels didn’t hug.
Aria let Clara go and turned my way. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I cleared my throat. “You’re late.”
The woman had the gall to laugh. Then she slammed the door shut on the U-Haul and moseyed my way. Her dark hair was lighter than it had been at Christmas. She’d added streaks of a dark blond that highlighted the flecks of gold in her eyes. The dark circles under her eyes were gone. The rosy color in her cheeks matched the pink pout of her mouth.
A surge of lust shot straight to my groin. Fuck. This was not the time.
“Be grumpy later,” she said, patting my stomach as she marched past me for the house. “We have work to do.”
Clara pulled in her lips to hide a smile as she passed me, following her sister.
I looked to the blue sky and dragged in a deep breath. If they knew why I was grumpy, they’d have an entirely different reaction. Getting a grip on this attraction to Aria was taking more effort than I’d expected.
August raced past me, following his mother and aunt. “Come on, Brody!”
“Coming,” I muttered, taking a moment with my back turned to adjust my swelling cock. Then I turned and met them in the house.
Aria was looking around, surveying the space. “It’s bigger than I remember.”
“Are you feeling okay?”
She dropped her gaze and smiled. “I’m good. Much better. The morning sickness has pretty much disappeared now.”