What did I say? Did I want a relationship? Did I have the energy to nourish this baby and give attention to anyone else? What if Brody thought it best we return to platonic cohabitation?
The last question scared me the most.
Because it would hurt. More than I wanted to admit. If Brody rejected me, that was going to freaking sting.
An hour passed as I lay on my bed, my eyes trained on the ceiling as the anxieties flourished like a freshly watered tulip. The sun was setting outside, casting the pool with its glow.
Shifting one ear into a pillow, I studied the colors as they faded. Blue to yellow. Yellow to orange. Pink to red. I did love desert sunsets. Bright and beautiful, I found myself on the back patio often, watching the colors shift over the dusty horizon.
In the mornings, I’d venture outside to watch the desert bloom. Years of visiting Clara and I hadn’t timed a trip in the early spring, probably because March was always a hectic time at The Gallaway, planting for the season. Boy, had I missed out.
It was just beginning, but soon, the wildflower super bloom would carpet the rugged landscapes in pinks and yellows and purples. Clara had told me it was beautiful, but even now, at the beginning, words hadn’t done the spectacle justice.
The spring desert was truly breathtaking, and it was only the start.
When I’d stopped wanting to hate it here, I’d fallen in love.
“You missed dinner.”
I flinched, sitting up with a jolt.
Brody stood in the doorway with one ankle crossed over the other. His feet were bare, his jacket and tie gone. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and the buttons at his throat were undone. Just like last night. And just like last night, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
“I wasn’t sure if dinner was a good idea,” I confessed. “I wasn’t sure what to say.”
He pushed off the door and walked into the room. Then he climbed on the bed, lying at my side. “I’m not sure what to say either.”
“Really?” I propped up on an elbow. “You always seem sure.”
“Not always. Do we have to decide now?”
Clara’s advice had been to give him time. And here he was, asking for it too.
So instead of worrying, I leaned closer and brushed his lips with mine.
“No. I guess we don’t.”
Chapter Thirteen
Brody
“I have to go.” I kissed Aria’s bare shoulder as she combed her wet hair. She wore the towel she’d wrapped around her body after her shower. A shower I’d missed because I’d been in my own bathroom preparing for what would likely be an exhausting day.
“Have a safe trip.”
“I will.” I kissed her shoulder again, then took a long look at her in the mirror.
My God, she was gorgeous. If we had a girl, I hoped she looked exactly like Aria. If we had a boy, I wanted him to have her bewitching eyes.
“I think I’ll tell her.”
The comb in Aria’s hand froze. “Are you sure?”
“Would you mind?”
She shook her head. “We can’t keep this a secret forever.”
“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.”