Come Home to Me (2 page)

“As a yoga instructor, right?”

“And a massage therapist,” she added so no one would be surprised when she advertised her services. She wanted everyone to understand from the beginning that she’d be doing both. She needed all the legitimacy she could establish.

“How’d you get into that?”

“I met someone at yoga who became my roommate. He was a massage therapist.”

“He...”

“We’ve never been together, if that’s what you’re asking. Roger was gay. He paid half the rent and got me into massage.”

“I see. Do you have a license or...whatever it takes?”

“I did some yoga-teacher training. And I’m a certified massage therapist.” Luckily for her, a government grant had covered her schooling and Wyatt’s day-care expenses while she attended class.

“You’ve got big plans. When will you be open for business?”

“In a week, if everything goes well.” After she’d painted the interior of her studio and built her own tenant improvements, like the reception counter. She didn’t know much about construction but with the price of supplies she couldn’t afford to hire anyone, so she’d just have to learn. Dylan would do what he could, and Cheyenne would help when she wasn’t working at Little Mary’s B and B, but her sister and brother-in-law had their own lives, and she was in a hurry to get it done.

“Great.” He winked at her. “I’ll be your first customer.”

She knew he thought he was being charming, but she stiffened all the same. “Excuse me?”

He stared at her. “I said I’d become a client.”

“But...it’s not what you think.”

His smile faded at her affronted tone. “
What
do I think?”

“I’ll be running two legitimate businesses, Aaron. I don’t...I don’t party anymore. Or do anything else that might interest you.”

He scowled. “Because you know so much about what interests me after being gone for two years?”

“I know the only thing
I’ve
got that interests you. It’s all I’ve ever had. And I’m no longer willing to...to be one of your many sex partners. That’s not the life I’ve chosen for myself.”

“
Many
partners? Are we counting?”

She shook her head. “I’m not judging you.”

“How generous.”

That hadn’t come out right. She had no grounds to criticize anyone, and she knew it. “I’m not the same person I was, that’s all.”

A muscle flexed in his cheek. “You’re saying I took advantage of you before?”

He’d had a few brushes with the law, so his reputation wasn’t any more sterling than hers. The Fearsome Five, as he and his brothers had been called, were used to being blamed even for things they
didn’t
do—although she doubted that would continue. The last chief of police had recently been fired for misconduct; the new one didn’t seem quite so drunk on his own power.

“No.” She shook her head again for emphasis. “What happened before was entirely my fault. You never asked me to follow you around like a puppy or to crawl into your bed whenever I had the chance.” She laughed as she rolled her eyes. “It must’ve driven you crazy to have me hanging on your every word, your every move. I’m sorry I was so annoying.”

He didn’t laugh with her. “Yeah, that was pretty miserable.”

She could hear the sarcasm in his statement. He’d probably forgotten how much she used to irritate him, but
she
remembered. When her mother died, she’d instinctively gone to him for comfort, but he’d turned her away with a few sharp words for waking him in the middle of the night.

Still, she didn’t hold that against him. Not really. She just wanted the next man in her life to care a
little
more.

“I’m sure it was,” she said, taking his words as if he’d meant them literally. “But I won’t bother you this time around. I–I’m looking for other things.”

“So you’ve said.” Jaw hard, lips tight, he leaned one shoulder against the door frame. Obviously, he wasn’t happy with the way this was going. She could tell because of the badass attitude he’d adopted. It might’ve made her uneasy—that cutting glare made most people nervous—but she couldn’t imagine he’d get angry just because she preferred to keep her distance. He’d never wanted her to begin with. So why would it matter now if she refused to have any contact with him? He could have practically any woman he wanted. Even those who pretended to be too good for him sometimes cast longing glances in his direction.

“And what, exactly, are these other ‘things’ you’re looking for?” he asked.

“A husband for me and a great, uh, stepfather for Wyatt. A committed relationship.” Which counted him out. “So...if you’ll excuse me...”

He didn’t react. He was too busy searching her face with those hazel eyes of his. Maybe he was hoping to find the old Presley, but she hadn’t been lying when she said that person was gone.

When she stepped closer, indicating that she expected him to get out of the way, he shoved off from the wall and waved her past him with an exaggerated flourish. “Be my guest.”

Gone was the flicker of excitement she’d seen when he first addressed her. His expression had turned implacable, stony. But she had no reason to regret her words. She’d only done what she had to do. And
she’d
taken responsibility for the past, laid nothing at his feet.

“Thank you,” she said softly, and walked into the front, although it felt as if she were dragging her heart on the floor behind her.

Now she wouldn’t have to worry about running into him in the future, she told herself. They could both work to avoid each other—cross over to the other side of the street, if necessary. That would make the next few weeks or months, however long it took him to move to Reno, easier.

So why did her eyes sting with unshed tears and her throat feel like she’d just swallowed a grapefruit?

She was standing in line, face hot and pulse racing, when Kyle and Riley stopped Aaron as he strode toward the front of the store. They greeted him, and he responded, sounding perfectly fine. Her rejection hadn’t stung at all—which proved he’d never really cared about her to begin with. He’d used her, but the way she’d thrown herself at him made it equally her fault.

“Hey, Presley’s here,” Kyle said. “Have you seen her?”

She curled the fingernails of her free hand into her palm, praying she wouldn’t have to hear Aaron’s response. But there was no missing it. She couldn’t have kept herself from listening even if she’d had the power to do so.

“From a distance,” he said.

There’d been very little distance between them when he saved her from falling over those books, but she didn’t begrudge him a white lie. She just wished the line would move faster so she could get out of the bookstore.

“She’s opening a yoga studio one store down from Callie’s photography studio,” Riley informed him. “She’ll be doing massage there, too.”

There was an undercurrent in that statement, as if they all considered it pretty amusing. No doubt everyone was wondering if there’d be additional services she couldn’t advertise. But that was her fault, too. It would take time to live down what she’d been like before.

“One-stop shopping,” Aaron said dryly.

Assuming he was playing into those suspicions, Presley flinched.

“She’ll have no trouble coming up with paying customers,” Riley said. “Not the way she looks these days.”

“She looks about the same to me,” Aaron said, and moved away.

He was leaving. Presley’s internal “Aaron radar” tracked him to the door. Then, in spite of her efforts to keep her eyes on the person in front of her, she glanced over to catch a final glimpse of him—and found him looking at her again. This time his expression wasn’t inscrutable as much as it was bewildered. But that hurt-little-boy pout disappeared beneath a mask of indifference as soon as he realized she was watching, and he stepped out.

2

A
aron stood on Cheyenne and Dylan’s doorstep, next to the baby stroller parked on the porch. Waiting for someone to answer his knock, he heard Cheyenne’s voice from inside the house. “Mommy’s here, Wyatt,” she cooed.

A few seconds later, she swung open the door and did a double take.

Aaron had imagined she was holding Presley’s baby, but she wasn’t. She must’ve said what she did as she left him in the other room.

“Aaron! I wasn’t expecting you.”

He hadn’t planned on coming over—until he ran into Presley at Ted Dixon’s signing. Ever since he’d learned she was back, and even before that, he’d been hoping for an opportunity to apologize for his behavior the night her mother died. He hadn’t been able to deal with the level of emotion involved. That kind of tragedy carried him back to his own mother’s death, something he avoided at all costs. But he felt bad for being such a callous jerk and would never forget how frightened he’d been when Presley went missing right after she left his place and didn’t turn up for several days. He blamed himself for everything that happened in the interim; he knew she’d been through a lot. Whatever she’d experienced was so awful that neither Cheyenne nor Dylan would talk about it. For a long time, he’d wanted to tell Presley he was sorry, but she hadn’t given him the chance. Whenever he asked for her number, Cheyenne told him she didn’t have a phone. And Presley never called him. Even in the two weeks she’d been home, she hadn’t tried to reconnect. If not for his customers at the auto body shop alerting him, he would’ve had no idea she was back in town, not until he ran into her at the signing. Dylan hadn’t mentioned it. Dylan rarely talked about Presley in Aaron’s presence.

“Dyl home?” he asked because Cheyenne was still blocking the doorway, and he didn’t know how to inspire a warmer welcome. He’d guessed Presley would be stopping by to pick up her baby. Wyatt had to be somewhere if he wasn’t with his mother, and this was the logical place. The stroller confirmed it.

His sister-in-law began to fidget. “Dyl?”

“Yeah. Your husband and my big brother—remember him?” Presley couldn’t assume he was merely looking to get in her pants if her sister and his brother were around when he spoke to her. That would make the contact legit. Then maybe they could strike up some of their old camaraderie, and he could walk her home and offer an apology, since things had gone badly at the bookstore before he could work his way around to what he’d really wanted to say.

Cheyenne ignored the sarcastic jab. “Of course he’s here. He’s watching TV.”

When she glanced past him, at the drive, he realized why she was reluctant to invite him in. She didn’t want him here when Presley arrived. But Cheyenne was too polite to make it any more obvious. With a pleasant smile, she stepped back. “Come on in.”

He understood that she didn’t feel he’d treated her sister right. He
hadn’t
been the best for Presley. But he’d never hurt her intentionally. And he wasn’t the same person he used to be. Why did they think only she could change?

When Cheyenne grabbed a sweater off the hall tree instead of following him toward the living room, he stopped. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” She waved a hand. “I’m just taking Wyatt for a walk.”

“It’s cold and dark.” It had also been raining an hour ago and could rain again. Spring usually came early in Gold Country, but the first week of March had been a week of full winter.

“We won’t go far.”

A dark-headed little boy toddled out of the living room, holding a rubber block, the corner of which he had stuffed in his mouth.

“This must be Wyatt.”

There was another pause on Cheyenne’s part, but he understood why. She didn’t want anything, or any
one,
to come between Presley and her recovery, and that included him. “Yeah. That’s Wyatt, her pride and joy.”

It was motherhood that’d changed Presley. Aaron felt certain of it.

Wyatt stared up at Aaron with round eyes the color of melted chocolate—just like his mom’s.

“Cute little bugger,” he said. “Seems big for his age. Kind of surprising coming from a half-pint like Pres.”

“Presley says his father was tall.” Cheyenne moved as if she planned to sweep the baby into her arms and head outside, but Aaron was closer and stooped to pick him up before she could.

“Hey, you,” he said. “What a chunk you are. Doesn’t look like you’ve ever missed a meal.”

The baby pulled the block out of his mouth and gave him a gummy smile that revealed several Mini-Chiclet teeth. “Ma-ma-ma!” he chanted, hitting the block with his free hand.

Aaron shifted his attention to Cheyenne. “Doesn’t seem to be afraid of strangers.”

“No. He’s a happy, trusting little guy.”

When Aaron used the baby’s own fist to tap his nose, Wyatt gave an infectious belly laugh and tried to shove his toy into Aaron’s mouth.

“That’s okay, dude,” Aaron said, twisting his head. “That block’s got more than enough spit on it already.”

“Aaron? That you?” Dylan called, and Aaron let Cheyenne take the baby.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“How’d it go in Reno? You find the right location?”

Aaron walked into the living room to see Dylan sprawled on the couch, his hair wet. He’d worked late and must’ve just showered. They were slammed with business, which was another reason Aaron thought it was time to open a franchise. “Nothing I’m in love with. I’m considering Placerville instead.”

“I wouldn’t go there.”

“It’s closer, only forty miles away.”

“But it’s a smaller market. When’d you get back?”

Aaron fell into one of two leather side chairs and propped his feet on the coffee table. The L.A. Lakers were playing the Miami Heat, and it looked like a close game. “Couple of hours ago. I promised Mr. Nunes if he gave us another day to finish his Land Rover I’d get Ted’s new book autographed for him.”

Dylan sat up. “You went to the signing?”

“For a few minutes.” He hadn’t gotten the book. The line had been too long. Then he’d spoken to Presley and ended up walking out. But he could go over to Ted’s later and pick up a copy.

“How’d it go?” his brother asked.

Why did Aaron get the feeling that this was a loaded question? Was there some underlying concern about him attending the book signing? “Fine. Why wouldn’t it?”

His brother forwarded through a commercial break. “No reason.”

“Because Presley was there?”

“Chey’s been nervous about the two of you running into each other,” he explained.

“Why?” Aaron asked. “What’s going on? Everyone’s acting as if we should be enemies. As if I’ll do something terrible if I get the chance. But I’ve never mistreated Presley. I mean...I wasn’t always as nice as I could’ve been, but I was never seriously out of line. We were friends,” he added with a shrug. “We had fun together. That was it.”

Dylan didn’t seem particularly swayed by this speech. “You know she’s had a rocky past. We don’t want her getting mixed up in the things she used to do, that’s all.”

“
I’m
one of those things? You’re blaming
me
for her drug use?”

Drawing up one leg, Dylan rested the hand that held the remote on his knee. “You partied with her a lot.”

“But it’s not like I introduced her to drugs, or even encouraged her to take them. She was a coke-hound. She would’ve partied with someone else if not with me.”

“Maybe, but you weren’t in the best place back then, either. It’s not like you ever
dis
couraged her. You both played fast and loose. But whatever. That’s in the past. We’re hoping it’ll stay there. Life’s difficult enough for a woman trying to support a kid all on her own.”

Aaron frowned as he remembered his conversation with Presley at the bookstore. “She’s not doing it ‘all on her own.’ Wyatt’s father helps out, doesn’t he?”

Dylan made a sound of disbelief. “You kidding? She knew Wyatt’s father for...what? An hour or two? He was just some prick who took advantage of her when she was high and running from everything she didn’t want to feel. If there was any hope of finding him, I’d rearrange his face. But she’s not in contact with him, doesn’t know how to reach him. When I asked, she couldn’t even give me a name.”

“She told me he pays child support,” Aaron said tightly.

“Pride talking. She doesn’t want you to realize how desperate she’s been, that she’s barely getting by.”

“Why would she feel she has something to prove to
me?
I’ve never looked down on her.”

“She’s putting on a brave face, what else? People do that.”

“Not people who know each other as well as we do.”

“Things have changed, Aaron.”

That was the second time tonight he’d heard essentially the same thing. “To hell with change. Why does everything have to change?”

“Just let go of the past. The two of you aren’t good for each other—especially now that she has a child.”

The old anger welled up. “Wait a second. Who the hell are you to make that decision?”

Dylan shot him a dirty look. “Chey and I were here when you were together, remember? We know what the two of you were like.”

“So what? You have no right to tell me who I can and can’t see. Even after all these years, you’re
still
trying to be my father?”

Dylan paused the Lakers game. “Don’t start on that tired old argument—”

“I’ll start on it if I want to. I’ve had enough, Dyl. There’s only three years between us. It’s time you remembered that.”

Fortunately for Aaron’s peace of mind, Dylan didn’t deny that he had the tendency to be too controlling. “Old habits are hard to break, I guess,” he grumbled. “Anyway, when will you finally get past whatever you hold against me? We can go over my mistakes until we’re blue in the face, but that won’t fix them. The bottom line is this–Chey and I care about you
and
Presley. We want to see you both continue to—”

“What?” Aaron broke in, throwing up his hands. “Live our lives as
you
see fit?”

“Stay off drugs, if you want the truth, damn it!”

Aaron got to his feet. “I shouldn’t have come by.”

Dylan tossed the remote on the coffee table and stood up to follow him out. “Maybe you don’t want to admit it, but you have one hell of a chip on your shoulder. It’s time to grow up. Time to understand that I did the best I could. I was eighteen when Dad went to prison. Do you think I
wanted
to take his place? Hell, no! But I didn’t see anyone else who was willing to do the job. Were
you
going to do it? At
fifteen?
”

“Kiss my ass,” Aaron muttered, and that was all it took to snap Dylan’s restraint.

“Shit, you know how to enrage me like nobody else!” he roared, and smashed his fist through the wall.

Aaron felt his jaw drop. They’d gotten into some gnarly fights in the past, but he’d never seen Dylan lose control with so little provocation. This spat was minor in the overall scheme of their relationship. “Aren’t you overreacting a bit?”

“I don’t care if I am!” Dylan yelled. “You think
you’re
sick of a few things? Well,
I’m
sick of them, too—and tired of your damn resentment!”

Aaron didn’t respond. He just slammed the door on his way out.

It wasn’t until he was back at the rambler in the river bottoms where he’d grown up and still lived with his younger brothers that he cooled off enough to realize all the baby gear in the hallway and the stroller he’d seen at Dylan’s house were gone when he stormed out. Cheyenne hadn’t taken Wyatt for a walk; she’d taken him home to his mother.

* * *

When Cheyenne came back from bringing Wyatt to Presley’s and saw that Aaron’s truck was no longer parked in front, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“He’s gone,” she said into the phone. She’d used her cell to call Eve Harmon, whose family owned the B and B where they both worked, as soon as she left her sister’s. Eve was the only person in the world with whom she’d shared the truth about Presley’s baby. Even her other close friends didn’t know.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Eve said.

Cheyenne unzipped her coat. Thanks to the brisk walk, she wasn’t cold enough to remain bundled up. “At least now I won’t have to go back in and smile while we chat about Presley and Wyatt as if I’m not betraying my brother-in-law
and
my husband.” Because of Presley’s recent return, her name would definitely have come up if Aaron
was
still there.

“Are you sure Aaron has no clue that Wyatt is his?” Eve asked. “Or could it be that he suspects but prefers to leave the situation as it is?”

“I have no idea. I just know how hard it is for
me
to keep this a secret. Sometimes Wyatt’s paternity seems so obvious that I can’t believe Dylan hasn’t guessed.”

“Why would he? You told him Wyatt’s dad was some guy from Arizona, so he accepts it.”

She paused on the sidewalk. She didn’t want to go any closer to the house, didn’t want her husband to overhear what she was saying. “Is this you trying to make me feel better? Because pointing out how much he trusts me only makes me feel worse.”

“We’ve talked about this before. What else can you do?”

Dylan might be her husband but he was also Aaron’s brother, and for all the differences between the two men, they loved each other with the kind of ferocity that stemmed from surviving great hardship together. She had no doubt that Dylan would tell Aaron—eventually, if not right away. He wouldn’t be able to help seeing the situation from his brother’s perspective, just as she couldn’t help seeing the situation from her sister’s. She could plead with him, of course. Tell him that Presley had never had her life so together, that they couldn’t risk sending her into another tailspin like the time she’d run away from Whiskey Creek and gotten mixed up with a sadistic man. But that would only be effective for so long, until the loyalty he felt toward his brother prevailed.

“Maybe it would be different if Presley wasn’t a great mother,” Cheyenne said. “But she’s completely devoted to Wyatt. I feel terrible admitting this, but she’s done a lot better with him than I ever expected.”