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Come Home to Me. Brenda NovakЧитать онлайн книгу.

Come Home to Me - Brenda  Novak


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terrified that if Aaron and Wyatt had any interaction at all he’d suspect the truth. If Aaron hadn’t always been so vigilant about birth control, or if there’d been a specific incident when they’d noticed a broken rubber—which there wasn’t—he would already have questioned her or Cheyenne about the circumstances of Wyatt’s conception.

      Fortunately, she had those two things going for her.

      She’d made the right decision in not telling him, hadn’t she? Every once in a while, she panicked, wondering if she’d been crazy to make the choice she’d made. But she hadn’t gotten pregnant on purpose; there was no duplicity involved. And she didn’t expect child support or anything else from him. So how was the fact that she’d kept Wyatt hurting him?

      It wasn’t. To her knowledge, he’d never expressed any interest in having a child. Indeed, his diligence in the birth control department indicated he didn’t want one. There were times he’d even said as much, when a friend married or had a kid. That meant she was doing him a huge favor by keeping the truth to herself. It allowed him to lead whatever life he chose without having to wrestle with his conscience.

      Of course, if he found out, there was no guarantee he’d look at the situation so philosophically. That was what frightened her. She hated to even think of the possibility....

      Wyatt, happy now that she’d let him loose to run around the house, started to empty his toy box.

      “You little devil,” she teased when she saw the mess he was making.

      He grinned up at her, completely unrepentant, and she bent to press her lips to his forehead. Then she dropped onto the lumpy sofa she’d bought from the thrift store where she’d worked in Fresno. “You’re a charmer, aren’t you?” she said as he babbled and played. “Just like your daddy. Headstrong, too,” she added, thinking of how willful they could both be.

      “Mama!” He brought her his collection of cars, one by one.

      Despite a long list of worries, Presley couldn’t help smiling when he trundled over without a car just to plant a kiss on her face. His kisses were wet and sloppy but, for her, they were one of life’s true pleasures. She loved Wyatt so much—and that was why she had to keep up her defenses where Aaron was concerned, no matter how intent he seemed on regaining her friendship.

      Her cell phone rang. She tensed, afraid it might be Riley or Aaron with a question, but caller ID indicated it was Cheyenne.

      With a yawn, she hit the talk button. “Hello?”

      Wyatt tugged at her arm. “Pone, Mama? Pone?”

      She smiled at his attempt to say phone. He was learning more words all the time. “That’s right, baby. Phone.”

      “Presley? Hello?”

      She could hear a certain amount of pique in Cheyenne’s voice. “I’m here. What’s wrong?”

      “I just stopped by your studio.”

      Oh, boy... When Cheyenne and Dylan had agreed to help her if she moved back, they’d indicated that the quickest way to lose their support would be to get mixed up with the wrong crowd again—and they considered Aaron and his friends “the wrong crowd.”

      “I don’t know what he’s doing there, Chey,” she said, preempting her sister’s complaint.

      “It looked to me like he was painting!”

      Stifling a groan, she covered her eyes with one arm. “He came over this morning and offered. It wasn’t as if I asked him.”

      “You could’ve said no! You told me you’d stay away from him. If he finds out...I don’t have to tell you I have a lot to lose, too.”

      Cheyenne hated lying to Dylan. And having her and Aaron in such close proximity threatened them both with exposure.

      But Presley hadn’t wanted things to turn out like this! She’d tried to make the situation easier on everyone by leaving town. She’d planned to stay in Fresno indefinitely and would have done so if not for what was going on at Wyatt’s day care. She’d lodged a complaint, knew the day care was being investigated, but those days of doubt and suspicion had shaken her trust.

      “I tried.”

      “You said that you told him you wouldn’t be spending any time with him.”

      “I did!”

      “Maybe you weren’t blunt enough.”

      The look on Aaron’s face when she squeezed past him at the bookstore convinced her otherwise. “He understood.”

      “Then why is he painting your studio?”

      She couldn’t figure it out, unless... “I can only guess that finding Riley there made him...competitive.” He wasn’t used to being rejected or upstaged. Most girls couldn’t bring him home to their mothers and expect their mothers to be pleased, but women were inexplicably drawn to the edgy, take-your-chance aura that surrounded him. Aaron dared what most men wouldn’t. That, coupled with his good looks, made him almost irresistible. Although he didn’t seem to take his appeal too seriously, Presley had witnessed the female attention he received and had often been surprised that she was the one going home with him at the end of the evening.

      “Maybe he wants to be the one to reject me.” She’d always felt he was more attractive than she was. And his personality? He could charm most people—or cut them with a glance. He wouldn’t like losing the position of strength he’d held with her.

      “Isn’t that what happened the night Mom died?” Cheyenne asked.

      “More or less,” she mumbled, but he hadn’t actually said or done anything to change the status of their relationship. Had she not been pregnant, and had she stayed in town, they probably would’ve gone on like before—partying and sleeping together, at least until he met someone else. But she hadn’t been satisfied being a placeholder, hadn’t been satisfied with knowing that he was restless and would eventually move on.

      Then, in the midst of her quandary about what she should do to protect herself before she got hurt, she’d run out of time to decide. Once she found out she was pregnant, she’d had to choose quickly—have an abortion, as he’d likely prefer, or throw her whole heart into raising their child alone.

      She glanced over at Wyatt. He was sitting on the floor, playing with a toy that had pop-up Sesame Street characters. His face lit up when he noticed her watching and he slammed Cookie Monster back into his cubby just to show her that he could.

      She’d made the right choice, she decided. Wyatt could take all the love she had to give—and he had the ability to love her back.

      “So why’s he still interested?” Cheyenne asked. “You’ve always said he doesn’t really care about you. Is it that he suddenly sees you as a challenge and that excites him? Or is he trying to save face? Maybe he wants to prove he can get you back in the sack—or he’s out to show Dylan and me that he’ll do as he damn well pleases.”

      “I thought you liked Aaron.”

      “I do. I love him to pieces. But you know how contrary he can be.”

      “I can’t imagine he’d be willing to work that hard just to get me back in bed. He’s more of a take-me-or-leave-me kind of guy. That was the Aaron I used to know, anyway.”

      “So, to be on the safe side, you’re going to reiterate that you’re not interested?”

      “Of course.” She had no choice, not with the secret she was guarding.

      “I hope you’re more effective than you were when you said he couldn’t paint your studio,” her sister grumbled.

      “Riley was there, helping out. I didn’t want to tell Aaron he couldn’t do the same. What reason could I give? Why would it be more acceptable for Riley to help me than Aaron?”

      “Riley’s not Wyatt’s


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