Come Home to Me. Brenda NovakЧитать онлайн книгу.
told me he wants to take you out, and it made sense.”
“Was Aaron there when he said that?”
“He was standing about ten feet away. I actually got the impression Riley was announcing his intentions for Aaron’s sake, to stake his claim or...or put him on notice.”
“You sound pleased.”
“I am. I loved it. After the way he took you for granted, don’t you?”
She supposed it did feel good that someone else might want her, and that Aaron was aware of it. She’d always suffered from low self-esteem. She couldn’t feel good about herself while making the kinds of mistakes she’d made. “How did Aaron react?”
“He dropped his brush,” Cheyenne said with a laugh.
“That’s it? He didn’t say anything?”
“Not a word.”
Of course he wouldn’t. Why had she even asked? Aaron wouldn’t feel threatened. He’d only befriended her in the beginning out of pity. He understood what it was like to be lost and alone; they both did. “I know why he’s helping,” she said, finally figuring it out.
“Why?”
“He feels bad about how he acted the night Mom died. This is his way of apologizing.”
“You think so?”
“That’s my guess. He can be sweet. Sometimes.” He could also be tender, especially in the wee hours of the night after making love, which was why sex with him was more fulfilling than with most men. Just thinking about the deep-down satisfaction he could provide made her feel bereft without him.
Don’t focus on that. He’s like smoke. There’s no way to grab hold of him for more than a few minutes, no way to keep him close....
“How can you let him off the hook so he’ll go on about his business?”
“By accepting his apology and assuring him that I have no hard feelings.”
“Fabulous. Do it right away.”
Wyatt was getting sleepy. Presley could see him rubbing his eyes. Thank goodness. She needed a nap herself. “If you’ll watch Wyatt later this afternoon, I’ll go over to the studio, thank Aaron for his help and tell him I don’t hold anything against him. That should do the trick.”
“What if Riley’s still there?”
“I’ll walk Aaron out.”
“Perfect. Of course I’ll babysit.” Her sister didn’t ask why she didn’t want to take her son along; she understood that Presley was afraid for Wyatt to be around Aaron. She’d seen Aaron’s baby pictures. They both thought Wyatt resembled him at that age. “How much will you have to pay him for painting?”
“Nothing.”
“And Riley?”
“He’s not charging me, either.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. Can you believe it? They’re working for free.”
“Well, not free,” Cheyenne said. “Riley wants to date you. Which makes me wonder about Aaron. Is it truly forgiveness he’s after? Or something that involves less clothes and more skin?”
Presley didn’t answer that question. She couldn’t even consider it without having her thoughts go places that weakened her resolve. “When will he be leaving town?”
“The date still isn’t set.”
Too bad. It would be so much simpler if she could mark her calendar, give herself a goal. She was about to say so when Cheyenne changed the subject.
“You know when...when you got pregnant with Wyatt?”
Her son squealed as he found the lever that revealed Big Bird. “What?” Presley said, returning her attention to their conversation.
“The night you got pregnant.”
“What night would that be? Aaron and I always used birth control. So I have no idea exactly when I conceived.”
“Whatever night it was...somehow it happened even though you were using a condom?”
Where was she going with this? “Yes. Condoms aren’t a hundred percent effective, Chey. That can’t come as a shock to you. You’re not suggesting I tried to get pregnant—”
“Of course not!”
Presley had always been afraid she might be accused of trying to trap him, since everyone knew she cared more for Aaron than he did for her. But she’d kept Wyatt’s connection to Aaron a secret, so that argument was irrelevant. Still, she didn’t want anyone thinking she’d tried to use him to give her a child, either. “Then what are we talking about?”
“Aaron’s obviously capable of fathering children.”
“Why would anyone assume otherwise?”
“They wouldn’t, but you got pregnant, despite trying not to. That suggests he has...you know, strong, competent swimmers.”
“You’re evaluating the potency of his sperm?”
Presley regretted her shocked tone when Cheyenne immediately backpedaled. “No, never mind. Forget it.”
She sat up. “Why would you have any interest in Aaron’s sperm?”
“Because he has the same genes as Dylan!” her sister replied, exasperated. “Why else?”
“The rest of the Amos brothers would have those genes, too.”
“But Aaron would be the most likely to cooperate with something a little...unorthodox—and the least likely to tell Dylan.”
Unorthodox? Presley wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. Switching the phone to her other ear, she stood and began to pace. “You’re considering artificial insemination.”
“Maybe.”
“With Aaron as the donor?”
There was a brief silence. Then her sister said, “I’m getting desperate, Pres. What we’re going through is affecting our marriage. I hate seeing my husband feel so bad about himself.”
“How do you know Dylan’s sterile? It could be you, couldn’t it?”
This pause lasted longer.
“Chey?”
“No,” she replied. “It’s not me. I’ve been checked.”
Presley sucked in her breath. As often as they talked—and she thought they shared everything—Cheyenne hadn’t mentioned going to the doctor. “Did Dylan go with you?” She couldn’t help wondering how he’d taken the news.
“No. I haven’t told him about it. I don’t think I ever will.”
So she’d made the appointment and driven to Sacramento on her own. Why hadn’t she asked Presley to go with her? Cheyenne had always been too damn private about whatever struggles she faced. She opened up only if she had no choice, which told Presley how concerned she was about this issue. “When did you see the doctor?”
“Last month.”
“And Dylan?”
“He hasn’t been checked, at least not officially.”
“There’s an unofficial way to do it?”
“There are kits you can buy online.”
“Seriously?”
“They have just about everything these days.”
“Wow. So he tested himself?”
“I