Come Home to Me (9 page)

“I could carve out an hour or so. What time?”

“Mama!”

Wyatt was awake. She could hear him calling to her from the other room.

“Ma-ma!”

With a yawn, she went to get him. “There’s my boy.”

A toothy grin bunched his fat cheeks, and he wiggled in excitement as she approached.

“I wish just waking up in the morning made me as happy as it does you,” she told him, and held the phone to her ear with her shoulder so she could change his diaper.

“Eleven okay?” Cheyenne asked.

“Eleven works for me.”

“See you then.”

“Bye,” she said, but Cheyenne interrupted her before she could hang up.

“How’d it go with Riley yesterday?”

Presley thought of her text to him late last night. Cheyenne wouldn’t be pleased to learn she’d canceled. She hoped Riley wouldn’t mention it, that the fact he’d asked her out in the first place would simply fade into the past. “Great. He finished the build-out.”

“And you like it?”

“
Love
it.” The work Aaron had done was equally good, but Cheyenne wouldn’t want to hear that. And Presley didn’t really want to say it. It just seemed unfair to focus so much on what Riley had done.

“It was nice of him to help.”

This was her chance to say that she’d decided not to go out with him. She couldn’t let him pay for her dinner after the way she’d behaved with Aaron last night. But she wasn’t going to volunteer a word of that, either. Suddenly, she felt as if she was holding back a lot, which felt deceptive, but she wanted to move ahead with her business, look after her baby and avoid all the emotional turmoil.

So that was what she decided she’d do.

“He’s a nice guy,” she said, carrying her son into the kitchen.

“I can’t wait to see what he’s done. We’ll walk over after lunch and make a list of decorating ideas.”

Presley put Wyatt in his high chair and got out the oatmeal. “A yoga studio doesn’t need much decoration. I was thinking of putting up some posters with motivational quotes but that’s about it.” Twenty or thirty bucks was all her pocketbook could withstand.

“But you’ve got to have one of those relaxing water-falling-over-rocks things that most day spas have.”

She took a frying pan off the shelves that served as her cupboards. “I do?”

“No self-respecting massage therapist would be without one,” she teased. “So I’m going to get you one.”

Presley laughed. “Are you sure?”

“What else makes such soothing sounds for under a hundred bucks?”

“Nothing I know of,” she said as she fastened Wyatt’s bib. “I’ll see you at eleven.”

She fed her son hot cereal for breakfast, cleaned the kitchen and put him down to play while she straightened the rest of the house. But as she was vacuuming the living room, she nearly ran over something that had previously blended in with the color of the carpet—a brown leather wallet.

She didn’t have to look inside to know it belonged to Aaron. Riley and Jacob wouldn’t have had any reason to take out their wallets at her house. But Aaron had gotten a condom from his and then thrown the wallet aside.

“Oh, God.”

“Mama?” Wyatt, who loved the vacuum, grabbed hold of it now that she’d turned it off and tried to push it himself.

“Mommy made a big mistake, Wyatt,” she said, and checked inside the wallet to confirm that she’d guessed the correct owner.

Sure enough, it belonged to Aaron—which meant he’d be looking for it.

10

I
t was three o’clock Monday afternoon. Although Presley had been nervous that Aaron might call while she was at lunch with Cheyenne—or afterward, when Cheyenne and Eve had come over to see the studio—she hadn’t heard from him. He was probably wondering if he’d left his wallet someplace else. Or he was caught up at work and wouldn’t think about it until he returned home and wanted to go out for the evening.

Curiosity had consumed her all day, but she hadn’t let herself act on it. She refused to look at what he carried inside. They weren’t going to be part of each other’s lives. But once she put Wyatt down for his nap in the playpen at the studio and relaxed for a minute herself, that curiosity grew even stronger. If they
weren’t
going to be part of each other’s lives, it didn’t matter if she knew what he kept in his wallet. She flipped it open.

He had over five hundred dollars in cash, which was half her monthly rent. She was envious but not remotely tempted to steal. Thankfully, theft was one vice she’d never found difficult to resist; she felt too much empathy for the victims. And his financial situation played no part in how she felt about him. She knew she’d love him just as much if he were jobless and penniless.

“There’s no hope for me.” She sighed. Invading his privacy had turned out to be a waste of time. What she’d found didn’t tell her much. He kept his credit cards and driver’s license in there, of course, but no pictures, no notes, no phone numbers. These days most people kept all of that on a smartphone, so it didn’t come as any surprise.

She was about to close his wallet so she could slip it inside her purse when she noticed a compartment she hadn’t checked. It was flat, so she assumed it would be empty, but it wasn’t. He carried a picture, after all—a photograph of his mother. Presley recognized Wynona because she’d seen a different picture of her on his dresser.

Mrs. Amos was such a pretty woman, and her two oldest sons looked a lot like her. Presley wondered how different Aaron would be had he not lost her when he was so young. If she hadn’t taken her own life, maybe their father wouldn’t have fallen into depression and turned to alcohol. And if J.T. hadn’t turned to alcohol, maybe he wouldn’t have stabbed a man in a bar and gone to prison. And if he hadn’t gone to prison, Dylan wouldn’t have had to take over as head of the family when he was barely eighteen....

Not many kids had a less conventional upbringing than the Amos boys. They understood, as few could, what loss felt like, but at least they’d had Dylan. She and Cheyenne hadn’t had a savior; they’d had to muddle through on their own.

Her cell phone vibrated. She’d turned off the ringer when she’d managed to get Wyatt to sleep, but the interruption reminded her that what she was doing was wrong.

She slid the picture into place before digging her phone out of her pocket. She feared it might be Aaron calling to get the wallet she’d just snooped through, but it was Riley. He hadn’t responded to her text. Apparently, he wanted to talk about it.

“Hello?” She went outside so she could speak in a normal tone of voice without disturbing Wyatt. Because he hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night, he’d been cranky and tired, but he hadn’t been able to nap as soon as she would’ve liked. She’d hate to have anything wake him. This was her chance to make some real progress on cleaning up the studio.

“Presley?”

She sat on a wooden bench a few feet from her storefront. “Hi, Riley. How are you?”

“A little disappointed, if you want the truth. I thought we had a date.”

She gazed down the street in the direction of Amos Auto Body, where Aaron would be working—if he wasn’t looking at real estate in Reno. She couldn’t see his business. It was located off Sutter Street, not Main, but she’d been there often enough when they were hanging out that she could easily picture the whole place. They’d even had sex in the office once, after hours, when they were both high.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said.

There was a slight hesitation. “Did something come up?”

“No, I just... I don’t feel I’m the right type of woman for you.”

“You didn’t like it when Jacob and I came to visit yesterday?”

“Of course I liked it. This has nothing to do with that.”

“Then...what is it? You got cold feet? A date is too much of a commitment—not casual enough for you to feel comfortable? What if we had Cheyenne and Dylan join us?”

No way. Then she’d have her sister evaluating her behavior all evening and telling her she needed to be less aloof and more warm and friendly. She was who she was, would never be like Chey. Some things couldn’t be changed.

“I don’t need Dylan and Cheyenne to be there. But I’d like you to understand something.”

“And that is...”

Part of her felt she should tell him about Aaron. Her conscience dictated it. But she was afraid he’d tell Cheyenne what she’d said. “I’ve done some things in my life that you wouldn’t approve of. I’m not proud of them myself.”

“We’ve been over this—”

“You’re not getting it! I thought I was ready for someone like you, that I’d become...better. But that’s not really the case.” She hadn’t intended to blurt that out, to reveal her honest doubt, but there it was: maybe she wasn’t capable of changing as much as she’d hoped.

“Presley, it seems to me that you’re trying very hard to be a good person.”

“I am,” she agreed. She’d tried
so
hard. She’d given up drugs and alcohol and, until Aaron last night, even sex. After her mother died, she’d moved away and started over, had rebuilt her life step by painstaking step without any support, except for what Cheyenne could offer from a distance. Now she worked out on a regular basis, watched what she ate and lived a neat and organized life. Most importantly, she did everything she could to take care of her child. But she was powerless to resist Aaron—much as she’d hoped otherwise when she moved back. And that was a fundamental flaw that would interfere with dating other guys.

“Then I don’t understand the problem,” he said.

“You’re better off with someone else.” She hit the End button, but he called right back.

“That’s bullshit,” he said. “I’m picking you up on Friday at six, so make sure you’re ready.”

She blinked in surprise when he disconnected before she could respond.

“That’s the second time I tried to warn you,” she said with a sigh. But it was only dinner.

* * *

When Aaron saw Presley pushing a stroller toward him, wearing a white shirt with a pair of cutoffs, he felt his chest tighten. She looked so wholesome and healthy, so in control of all the demons that had once defeated her. He couldn’t help being proud. The transformation couldn’t have been easy, yet she’d done it in two short years. And she’d done it because of the love she felt for another person—her son—which said a lot about her as a person.

Of course, she still had her panther tattoo and a hard “I’ve walked through fire and lived to tell about it” edge, but she’d had to be tough to survive. As far as he was concerned, that only made her sexier.

He’d suggested picking up his wallet at her place, but she’d refused to let him come by. Instead, she’d arranged to meet him at the park, next to the giant statue of a forty-niner panning for gold. He got the impression she was afraid to be alone with him.

She gave him an uncertain smile and pushed her sunglasses higher on the bridge of her nose as she parked the stroller and stepped around it. “Hey.”

He couldn’t stop himself from checking out her legs. She wasn’t very tall but she’d always had shapely legs. “Hey.”

“It’s nice out tonight, isn’t it?”

He squinted at the setting sun. “Finally. It’s been so damn cold this year.”

“Feels like spring. I hope it lasts. I think I’ll have a bigger turnout for my grand opening if it does.” Wyatt squealed and tried to wriggle out of his seat belt, but she got him a toy from the basket on the stroller to mollify him. Then she rummaged in her purse, coming up with Aaron’s wallet.

“I went through it,” she announced as she handed it to him.

He straightened. “You...what?”

A blush tinged her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I was too curious.”

“About...”

She shrugged. “What you keep in there.”

Maybe he should’ve been mad but he found himself laughing. “Why would you immediately confess? That hadn’t even occurred to me.”

“I don’t want to feel creepy about having done it. I’m sorry,” she said again.

Her lack of artifice was endearing, despite her invasion of his privacy. “Find anything interesting?”

She hesitated for a second, then shook her head. “Just the usual. And nothing’s missing, of course. I hope I didn’t worry you by saying I went through it.”

“No.” He slid his billfold into his pocket without inspecting it.

“Good. Well, I’ll see you around,” she said with a parting smile. She started to leave, but he called her back.

“About last night...”

She parked the stroller again, glancing to either side to make sure they couldn’t be overheard. “Do we really have to talk about last night?”

“There’s something you don’t know. I haven’t wanted to tell you, but... It’s possible I’m worried for no reason. At the very least, though, you should be prepared.”

“For... What’s this about?”

“The condom we used.”

She licked her lips as if she suddenly felt self-conscious or perhaps anxious. “What about it?”

“I’m not sure how it happened... I mean, it’s never happened to me before, but...it was obviously...”

“What?” she prodded again, her eyes round and fearful.

“Broken.”

The color drained from her face.

“I’m sorry. We were...rougher than usual. Maybe that’s why. Or else it was defective to begin with.”

She covered her mouth with one hand but said nothing.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Oh, God.”

“You didn’t notice?”

“No. I wasn’t thinking about anything except...” She caught herself, but he would’ve liked to hear the rest of that sentence. Would it have been “you”? “How you made me feel”? “The best climax of my life”? “Getting you out of my house”? What?

He pinched his lips as he tried to evaluate her body language. “How worried should I be?”

“I’m not on the pill, if that’s what you’re asking. I was telling you the truth when I said I hadn’t slept with anyone in ages.”

Wyatt threw his toy on the ground and Aaron retrieved it for him. “So, no...IUD, or whatever those things are called, either?” He knew that if she wasn’t sexually active, she wouldn’t have one, but he couldn’t help hoping.

She shook her head.

He kicked at a tuft of grass before meeting her eyes. “Are
you
concerned?” She was already a mother. He doubted she’d want a
second
surprise pregnancy. The thought that it might be too late terrified him. He’d stand by any kid he helped create, if she went through with the pregnancy, but this wasn’t the way he’d planned to start a family—if and when he got around to it.

“Of course.”

His anxiety went deeper. “So it might’ve been...a fertile time of the month?”

She lowered her voice even more. “To be honest, I have no idea. These days my periods just come and go. Because they don’t interfere with my nonexistent sex life, I don’t pay much attention.”

He let his breath go. He’d been hoping for more definitive news. “I’m sorry if you’re upset.”

“It takes two,” she said.

Grateful she wasn’t placing all the blame on him, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’ll let me know when...when you’re in the clear—or even if you’re not?”

With a nod of confirmation, she wheeled Wyatt back in the direction from which she’d come.

Feeling the same disappointment and dissatisfaction he’d experienced while sitting in his truck last night, after she pushed him out the door, Aaron began to go after her. He didn’t see why their relationship had to be so damned strained. He cared about her as much as ever. So why couldn’t they go to dinner now, like they would’ve done two years ago? Wouldn’t she enjoy a nice meal and maybe a movie?

He didn’t get two steps before he heard another guy call out to her from the edge of the park, where there was parking for nearby shops. It took him a second, but he eventually identified Kyle Houseman. As Kyle walked over to say hello to her, he seemed to be teasing her about something, because she slugged him in the arm and they both laughed.

Inexplicably irked that their exchange seemed so uncomplicated, so genuine, Aaron stalked to his truck and drove away.

* * *

Several hours after he arrived home from the park, Aaron sat in the easy chair that used to be his older brother’s, back when Dylan lived with them. He was staring at a sports channel, loosely holding the television remote. Grady and Rod were sprawled on the couch, looking tired after a long day at the shop. Their youngest brother, Mack, who was twenty-three, was out somewhere with his girlfriend. Two basketball teams in the Sweet Sixteen were battling it out, and Mack was missing it, but Aaron wasn’t paying much attention, anyway. He owed Cheyenne an answer, so he had to figure out what that answer was going to be.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Grady said when the game cut to a commercial. “Have you settled on a location for your franchise?”

He hadn’t made a decision there, either. Since he’d learned that Presley was back in town, he hadn’t been able to concentrate. First, he’d been intent on catching a glimpse of her and had kept driving by her place. Then he’d run into her, and things had gotten a whole lot more complicated. “Not yet.”

“What’s taking so long? Aren’t there any good options?”

Part of the problem was that opening a franchise in Reno sounded better in theory than it was likely to be in practice. If he moved away from Whiskey Creek, he wouldn’t be working with his brothers anymore. He wouldn’t live with them, either; it didn’t make sense to commute that far. So while he felt that leaving Whiskey Creek and the business he’d helped build—ever since he was a teenager—would defuse the ongoing tension between him and Dylan, the prospect of starting a new shop on his own was beginning to feel more lonely than appealing. None of his brothers wanted to leave the area. So without the people in his life, he’d only have work—lots of it if he wanted the franchise to be successful—and he spent enough time at the shop as it was.