Fit for Love (A Stand By Me Novel Book 3) (8 page)

M
akenna

I
t’s not
every day that you have the best and worst date of your life—best, because Aiden was perfect in that swoon-worthy way where a guy treats you like a princess and your kid like a prince.

Worst, because only I would end a date in the emergency room. Poor Ryder.

“Come on, Sweetheart. We’re home.” I unbuckle the car seat clasps and lift him out of the car. As soon as I put him on the ground, he runs for the front door.

Aiden rests a hand on the back of my neck while I unlock the front door and deadbolt. I push the door open and look down at my little daredevil, the bandage on his head making me want to protect him from everything dangerous in the world.

Ryder hops from foot-to-foot in a frenzy. I call this his pee dance. Stepping back, I get out of the way so he can go inside the house.

“Whoa. Hold on big man. Ladies first.” Aiden puts one hand on Ryder’s shoulder, and signals for me to go inside.

“No,” I say in a panic. “He needs—”

Ryder freezes and his eyes grow wide. He emits a frustrated whine, sounding like a small motor wound tight.

Too late.

“What’s…” Aiden’s forehead wrinkles.

We linger on the threshold, Ryder now in tears with his bottom lips quivering. His stricken face along with the bandage covering his forehead causes my heart to hurt.

“It’s OK,” I say. “Go to the bathroom. I’ll bring some undies.”

“I pee.” Ryder lifts his head and shoots Aiden a blaming look. Then, he wobbles into the house with his feet spread apart.

Aiden stares after him with a baffled look, one eyebrow raised. “Is it always such an emergency when he needs the bathroom?”

I forget. There are so many little things that someone outside of mine and Ryder’s world won’t know.

“Most days.” I lead the way into the living area. “But we’re still training. It’s my fault. I should’ve asked him sooner. I guess I was preoccupied at the hospital. Make yourself at home.”

I grab Ryder’s pajamas and nighttime pull-ups before following him into the bathroom. It’s hours past his bedtime.

Ryder stands beside his potty chair naked—even though he’s too late to actually use it—where he holds his penis. He’s mastered getting undressed, a skill he sometimes demonstrates by running around the house nude. He also seems to like holding his junk.

This must be a guy thing.

“No,” he says. “No.” He releases his penis and points toward the living room. “No.”

“Yes. I hear you.” It’s exhausting, the task of interpreting the needs of a three-year-old who uses the word ‘No’ to represent various thoughts.

He whimpers and rubs his eyes. “No,” he says in a croak.

“It’s OK. Accidents happen. And you’re cranky and tired.”

“No.” Then he points vaguely in the direction outside the bathroom.

I let him have the last word, even if it might be about Aiden. Taking a wet cloth, I wash him and check underneath the bandage since the doctor instructed me to keep the stitches dry. A bath can wait until the morning. In minutes, I have him dressed and tucked into bed.

His dark curls and long lashes make him almost too pretty. It’s impossible to look at him and not think of his father tonight. Jared. The man only wants something when it belongs to someone else.

I arrange the quilt over Ryder and tiptoe back. The bedroom is a mishmash of all Ryder’s favorite things—animals, trains, cars. Simple. No electronics or expensive gadgets.

So opposite the bedroom at Jared’s house.

I turn and go to the living room to find Aiden. He’s relaxed, his long legs crossed at the ankles and one of Ryder’s hardback storybooks in his hands.

He lifts his head. “Hey,” he says low as if afraid he’ll wake Ryder. “Everything OK?”

“Um…yeah.” I walk to the kitchen entrance and then back to stand beside a rocking chair. Uncertainty bubbles in my belly. If today was the tryout date, I’m sure we failed—an accident, a hospital visit, Jared acting like the asshole he can be. “Sorry that took so long.”

Aiden pats the sofa cushion beside him. “Come here. I was fine. Getting in some reading.” He holds up the book. “Did you know this mouse never, ever finds his house? This is one stressful story.”

I grin at Aiden’s fake alarmed expression. He’s so cute when he tries to lighten things and make me laugh. My world has been far too serious and full of mom duties and late bills for too long.

“Let’s talk,” he says and pats the spot beside him on the sofa.

“Maybe I should check on Ryder one more time…”

“You’re stalling,” he says. He stands and steps toward me, taking his time until his body is inches from mine. “I’m not going to judge you about whatever you tell me.”

I swallow past the lump lodged in my throat. “I really like you. I just don’t want you to think I’m a bad person.”

“You couldn’t tell me anything that would do that.”

What if I told you I’m a coward? Jared knows. He called me that and more.

My daddy knew, too. If I’d been brave, he’d be alive.

“Come on, then.” Aiden slips his hand into mine. “We’ll talk about something else until you feel like you can trust me.”

“Talk about what?”

He leads me to the sofa and tugs me down to sit. “I guess we’ll talk about me some more. You seem to like the topic.”

“I do.” I snuggle in to his warm side with my cheek resting on his shoulder. “Why did you become a personal trainer?”

“Let me see.” He drops his head back on the cushion. “I was this scrawny kid in school. I could run like hell, but I was thin. Gangly…all arms and legs.”

“Ah…” I turn my head up so I can see his face. “So you bulked up so you wouldn’t get beaten up?”

He laughs, low and amused. “No. But I did play football and was tired of getting sacked on the field. Plus, I liked feeling strong. It’s good to be healthy. It’s like you have total control over your body. Everything you do or don’t do affects the end result. You have something against my body?”

I shake my head. “I think you know the answer to that.”

He places his hand on my knee. “It never hurts to feed my ego.”

“I think your ego’s thriving.”

“Not in some ways. You won’t let me get to know you.”

I lean my head back against his arm. There’s frustration in his voice and it’s my fault. I owe him honesty. “Jared and I had a thing. I told him that Ryder was his. He didn’t believe me. He’d already moved on with his life, and he assumed I’d been with someone else. I was so mad that I let him continue to think that. I thought it served him right to lose out on Ryder. I was wrong for doing that. Just because he was an idiot, didn’t mean I had to be one too. So, last year I told him again about Ryder. I told him for Ryder’s sake. He didn’t even take a blood test. When he saw Ryder, he knew.”

“You said you had a thing. Define thing. There are a lot of different levels of thing. One-night thing. Ten-year thing.” His tone is light, as if I haven’t just dropped a bombshell of drama on him.

“Somewhere between those.” I study him. “A friend introduced us. Jared was older and waiting for his break. I wrote some songs for him that he used. I fell hard for him and we slept together. I thought it was a big deal. He didn’t. Does it really matter? I don’t have to know your dating history. Actually, I don’t want to know.”

“If I had a child with someone, it would be important and I’d tell you even if you didn’t ask.” He pauses like he’s waiting for me to respond and I don’t. “OK,” he says. “I only want to know if he’s going to be a problem for us. Or for Ryder.”

“He and I are the past. He’s just a guy who happens to be Ryder’s dad.”

“But you fell hard for him. Sounds like quite a history. You had some feelings for him at one time.”

I wind a thick piece of hair around my hand. “Had feelings. Past tense.”

Jared left Nashville so he could chase the real love of his life—fame. And I told myself that it was better if he didn’t know about Ryder. But really, it was better for me. Thinking about the time he missed with his son makes me feel small. Ugly. Selfish.

My face heats in embarrassment. Why would Aiden even want to go out with someone so untrusting?

“And Jared? You sure he’s not hoping for more?”

“He just wants to be in his son’s life. I want Ryder to have that, too. Now he sees Ryder when he’s not touring.”

Aiden closes his eyes, then opens them. “I did something at the hospital that I shouldn’t have done. Jared…um…he overheard the nurse call me your fiancé and he wasn’t too happy. I think he’s pretty ticked off. I let him think we’re engaged. I’ve probably made a mess for you.”

I laugh in surprise, the sound escaping before I can stop it. “Really? Oh, I shouldn’t laugh. I sort of mentioned you to him one day when he pissed me off. I wanted him to just leave me alone and he was saying all this macho bullshit.”

“It wasn’t anything to make him jealous? You’re not in love with him.”

This statement makes me laugh again. “Lord, no. Seriously. Never. Really. No one is more in love with Jared…than Jared.”

“Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Yeah. That’s all I needed.” He grabs me by the waist and pulls me close, his chin resting on my head. “Do you think Ryder had fun before everything went to hell?”

My mouth curves into a reluctant smile. “He did. He was a little shy at first, but I bet it’s all he’ll talk about tomorrow.”

“And did
you
have fun before it went to hell?” He leans in and presses a kiss to my temple.

“Um hm.”

He gathers my hair up and lifts it to the side. Kissing the spot behind my ear, he makes a low purring sound that causes me to grab his arms. His lips trail down my neck.

“You’re really good at distracting me,” I mumble, barely able to get the words out between my panting.

He stops for a second. “I’m good at a lot of things.”

“Oh.” The word comes out like a plea for more. “I bet.”

Aiden rests his forehead against my neck and his breath caresses my skin. “Is this OK?”

I turn, sitting halfway in his lap and reach up with both hands to grasp the back of his warm neck. I pull him the centimeter it takes to close the distance. I can’t wait any longer. I need his lips. Now.

He smiles against my mouth in a cocky way, but I don’t care if he knows I’m desperate to kiss him. His lips press against the seam of mine. One second, his kiss is gentle. Then it changes as if someone flips a switch.

Because it’s no longer simply a kiss. His tongue dances in to tangle erotically with mine. Stroking. Teasing.

He lies back on the sofa and drags my body on top of him. His hands leave the hold on my arms and rake down, down, down, and grip my ass. Pressing me to him. My lower body rubs against the hard ridge of his cock and I shudder. My entire body thrums with blazing need.

Every single inch of him is hard where I am soft and my curves melt to fit against him.

He continues to make love to my mouth and his hands slide into the bottom of my shirt and caress the skin above my jeans.

I need more.

I need everything.

“No!” Ryder’s voice cuts through my lust-induced haze and I push against Aiden’s chest. My movements are slow, my limbs loosened and languid, drunk with passion.

“Baby, I didn’t know you were awake.” I stumble to get off the sofa and embarrassment blooms hot in my cheeks.

Ryder grabs and tugs at Aiden’s shirt. “No. No. No.”

I capture his small hands. “Stop it. No. It’s all right”

“No,” Ryder yells. He scrubs a hand along the bandage. “No,” he says in a whisper.

I pick him and cradle him against my shoulder, bouncing him like I did when he was a baby. What was I thinking? Five more minutes and…

“He’s Mommy’s friend,” I say. “Remember Aiden? From the horses? You know him.”

Ryder lifts his head and stares at Aiden. “Mommy,” he mumbles around the two fingers in his mouth.

“Your mommy.” Aiden nods to Ryder. “Yeah. I know. She’s yours.”

Ryder scissors his legs, so I put him down. His small hand folds around my pointer finger and he pulls. Then he removes his wet fingers from his mouth and holds his hand out to Aiden.

“Want us to come with you?” I ask Ryder but glance at Aiden, trying to read his expression.

“Let’s go, big man.” Aiden winks at me. One wink to say so much. To say he’s not scared of this.

“Big man,” Ryder repeats.

We take short steps down the hallway. A nightlight illuminates Ryder’s bedroom and shines on his rumpled bed. It’s a platform bed, low to the ground in case he falls. He releases our hands and climbs on it, settling in the center. Then he grabs my hand to pull me toward him.

“I usually lie down with him until he falls asleep.” I sit on the side of the bed and give Aiden an apologetic smile.

Ryder talks to himself, a mixtape of Humpty Dumpty and Three Blind Mice. He looks to Aiden. “Horse?”

“No horses tonight.” Aiden says. He walks around to the other side of the bed and sits on the edge.

Ryder rolls toward Aiden so he faces him. Patting the pillow, he demands, “Sleep.”

Aiden laughs. A masculine laugh that ends in a ‘hmm.’ The sound rolls gently through my heart. He kicks off his shoes and pulls his socked feet onto the bed. Lying on his side, he looks at Ryder and then me. “Now what? What do we do to go to sleep?”

I lie down and peek over the top of Ryder’s head. “We tell a story.”

Aiden tucks one hand under the pillow, settling in as if he does this all the time. I wish I had a photo of me, Aiden and Ryder like this, looking so content and playful. This is how families are supposed to look.

Or at least it’s the picture I paint in my mind. It’s more Impressionism than Photorealism—only picking up the light parts that I want to see. Probably not like real life, because people can be dark. My daddy taught me that.

I vow I’ll never let Ryder see the dark.

Aiden clears his throat in speaker preparation, and my gaze returns to him. I slam the door on the ghosts threatening to ruin my perfect picture of this moment.

“Well,” he says, drawing out the word and letting us anticipate. “Once there was the little boy named Ryder.”