Chapter 10
John Aaron wailed at the top of his lungs as Aaron lifted him out of the incubator. “Hey, little man, just calm down. I’ve got your bottle.” He cradled the swaddled baby in his arms and put the bottle in John’s mouth. Instantly the baby was happy and sucking greedily on the nipple.
Aaron chuckled. “You and your aunt are just alike when it comes to eating.”
He sat in the rocker. “You know, you scared the hell out of me last night. Let’s not do that again, okay? Daddy’s heart isn’t strong enough to handle it.” If he had found out one thing last night, it was the depth of fatherly love and how much of his heart this baby owned.
“I don’t know whether to call you Baby Doctor or Baby Daddy now.” Dr. Kayla Vance walked over to the NICU pod. Wearing a white lab coat over a T-shirt emblazoned with the American flag and jeans, the pretty redheaded obstetrician smiled at him and the baby. “You look like death warmed over.”
“I feel like it.”
“So what is going on with this little doll? I heard he had a clonic seizure last night.”
“Yeah. I don’t know if it’s nonfamilial or not. I don’t have the family history. The best thing is that he doesn’t have meningitis or an intraventricular hemorrhage. All I could think during the episode was that he had a brain bleed and he wouldn’t make it.”
Kayla gave him a sympathetic smile. “At least that’s not case. So you think it’s a benign one-off event?”
“Looks that way. He hasn’t had another one. I’ve sent his EEG and monitor feeds to a friend of mine, a neonatal neurologist at the Texas Children’s Hospital. He called a little while ago and said everything looked good. He thinks it’s probably metabolic or maybe rotavirus.
“John was running a low-grade fever yesterday but no other symptoms, and his calcium level is a little low, so I’m working on getting both of those resolved. Hopefully, that will take care of it.”
“I think you’ve done a great job with him,” Kayla said. She had delivered Baby John in the emergency department. “I didn’t think he would live, but look at him now.”
Aaron removed the bottle from John’s mouth so Kayla could get a look at his face, framed by a blue beanie and blanket. “Hey, cutie,” she said.
The baby was angelic for only a second. He smacked his lips, and his face screwed up in a frown as he let out a cry. “Here you go.” Aaron put the bottle back in John’s mouth. “He loves his bottle.”
“He’s going to have a playmate. Have you heard about that?”
Aaron considered her words. His blue eyes widened as he came to a conclusion. He didn’t even know Kayla was in a serious relationship. “Congratulations. When are you due?”
“What? No, not me.” Kayla held up her hands. “I just deliver babies. I don’t have them,” she said. “Guess again. What guy is gonna be hilarious trying to change a diaper?”
“Hot Rod.” The first person to pop into Aaron’s mind was cardiologist Brett Harris, aka Hot Rod.
Kayla nodded and laughed. “That’s what Caleb told me when I ran into him downstairs. He said Hot Rod was in the lounge, totally beside himself this morning. He’d just found out.”
“Wait ’til I see him.”
“You know, I think Brett and Natalie are such a fun couple, and I hope everything keeps going well for them,” Kayla said. Then she added with a mischievous grin, “Would it not be awesome if they had twins?”
“Kayla, that’s bad.” Aaron glanced at the baby he held. One at a time was plenty.
“On to business. Who is filling in for you while you’re on leave? Doug or Jack?”
“Jack,” Aaron replied, referring to one of his partners at the Lafayette Falls Infant and Children’s Clinic.
“I need to give him a heads-up. I’m doing two high-risk C-sections on Tuesday.”
“I’m on standby. I told Jack if anything came up and he needed my help to call me.”
“Sounds good.” She smiled as Aaron set the empty bottle aside and burped the contented baby. “You need to go home and get some rest. The baby looks better than you do.”
“I’m heading that way shortly.”
An hour later, the paramedic who had offered to give Aaron a ride home pulled into the driveway at Aaron’s house. “Thanks, Mike,” Aaron said as he got out of the SUV.
“Anytime, Doc.”
Aaron noticed that Lia’s red Jaguar was gone. That could mean only one thing. She was out shopping again. More baby stuff. Aaron groaned as he retrieved the hidden spare house key and let himself in through the kitchen door.
Nothing was more soothing than being home, especially when the house was clean and smelled nice, like flowers. He stopped at the doorway that led from the kitchen into the dining room. All the baby things were gone, and in the center of the new dining table was a large vase of fresh roses, daisies, and lilies. Lia had been industrious.
He headed for his room. The master bedroom, not that spare bedroom with the lumpy twin bed. The large, sturdy king-size bed had never looked better. As he discarded his rumpled shirt, he noticed Lia’s belongings. The black high heels she’d worn last night were beside the bed and the black dress draped over the armchair, along with a lacy black bra. He checked out the bra. Thirty-four C. Just the right size.
He slipped off his shoes and let his slacks hit the floor. Her open laptop was on the bed, and when he moved it, the screen lit up with a background photograph of her and Dallas. Aaron looked at it for a moment before he closed the laptop. They looked like a real couple. A happy couple. How do you fake that, he wondered. It was beyond his comprehension.
He sprawled in the bed, beneath the cotton sheets. Talk about heaven. He grasped one of the pillows and something hard rubbed against his hand. Lifting the pillow, he retrieved a shiny, chunky stone.
“What the hell?” He studied the rose quartz. It had to be Lia’s. What was she doing with a pink rock? He put it on the bedside table. “Lia,” he murmured as he closed his eyes. A pink rock. A slam dunk. A size thirty-four C. Baby stuff, love songs, and a skimpy nightshirt. Sweet dreams . . .
* * *
As the half-moon hung in the dark sky over Aaron’s house, Lia sat on the front fender of her Jaguar. A vapor lamp attached to the utility pole cast a haze of light across the driveway. She appreciated the constant breeze and low humidity, which made for a pleasant night to sit outside and enjoy the neighbor’s fireworks. Although forest bordered Aaron’s house, there were other houses all along the road. To the left of Aaron’s home was another large log home. It wasn’t visible from her perch on her car because of the narrow stretch of woodland between the two houses, but she could hear the faint sound of music along with the whistle of a comet as it sailed upward. Aaron’s neighbors were having a party and a fireworks show.
The comet burst and sent glittering red strobes across the night sky. She smiled as she watched them fire up and vanish. A missile with a higher trajectory than the comet sailed overhead and exploded with a boom. When it burst, Lia gasped at the profusion of glowing red, blue, and white stars. She couldn’t wait for the next one.
“I forgot it was July fourth.”
She turned to see Aaron walking toward the car.
“The dead has risen.”
“Very funny.”
He stopped beside her. Dressed in a jersey and running shorts, his hair was damp, and he smelled of ocean-fresh body wash. How was a girl supposed to keep her head? Lia smiled to herself. She could handle temptation. After all, when she had gotten home and found him sprawled in the bed, she had been inclined toward taking off her clothes and joining him beneath the sheets. Instead, she had silently changed into a white tank top and shorts and eased out of the bedroom, leaving him sleeping.
“I hope that Chinese takeout in the kitchen was for me,” he said.
“It was. I didn’t know if you liked Chinese or not, but I figured you’d be hungry when you got up.”
“It was great. Thanks.”
A loud whine pierced the quiet as the neighbors fired a rocket into the sky, followed quickly by four comets. “Look at that!” Lia marveled at the explosive display of fiery streamers and stars splashed across the heavens. “They must be using professional fireworks.”
“They are,” Aaron said. “The Burkes have a Fourth of July celebration every year. They work with handicapped preteens and have a big party for them. The kids love the fireworks.”
“I do, too.”
“There’s usually a fireworks show at the park downtown. You want to go?”
Another whistle followed Aaron’s words, and the sky lit up with curved streamers that fanned out like a palm tree. Three Roman candles followed. “The Burkes are putting on a great show. I’m good with staying here and watching it.”
“Me, too.” He leaned against the car and rested his forearm across her legs.
She sat motionless as her instincts zeroed in on the weight and warmth of his arm on her legs and the occasional brush of his fingertips against the side of her knee. It wasn’t so much his touch as it was the implication that intensified her heartbeat. It was the kind of body language that couples used. His arm across her legs. Closeness and possession.
“I went to see John Aaron this afternoon,” she said in an effort to corral the growing need that had her slightly rocking while she sat on her car. “He looked good, and the nurse said he hadn’t had another seizure. That’s good, right?”
“It is,” he answered. “When I got up, I logged into the hospital system and looked at this afternoon’s stats. His vitals are okay, and his temp is normal now. He may never have another seizure. That’s not unheard of when it comes to newborns.”
“I’m so glad he’s better.”
Aaron tapped her knee. “I want to ask you something.”
If it’s “do you want to have sex,” the answer is definitely.
“Why did you have a pink rock under your pillow?”
She smiled and took a moment to watch a comet send a shower of golden orange stars across the sky. “It’s a gemstone. A rose quartz. It’s the stone of the heart. A healing stone.”
“A what?”
She managed a low, serious voice. “It puts you in touch with your spirit guides and heals the heart.” In the darkness, she couldn’t see his face, but she imagined his expression was priceless. She decided to go full Gilda on him. “The stone removes negative energy from your heart and replaces it with balance and harmony. It helps your spirit guides heal your emotional wounds so your heart is open to giving love, receiving love, and finding and loving your own true self.”
For a moment, he didn’t make a sound, and she gave his arm a stroke. “You can borrow the stone if you’d like.”
“Lia, you can’t be serious. Surely.” He sought validation. “It’s nothing but a pink rock.”
“Ah, a man of science.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “And a nonbeliever in pink rocks. How did you come by such nonsense?”
“Gilda.” She told him about the woman who was a combination of things to her: confidant, advisor, surrogate mother. “Gilda is different. She’s from the Woodstock era, and now she’s a spiritualist and into New Age mysticism, mediating, and becoming one with the universe.”
“Do you buy into all that?”
She sighed. “I tell myself I don’t, but there are times when I think you are guided by something other than your rational mind. I guess what I believe is that the rose quartz is just a pink rock. But it’s your faith in it that makes it work.”
“You’re right about that. The human mind, coupled with belief and the power of suggestion, can make the most unlikely things appear possible.”
As a pair of rockets shattered the quiet and exploded in brilliant splendor overhead, Lia thought about what he’d said. The most unlikely things appear possible. He was one of those things. He appeared possible.
But was he? She thought of his wedding pictures and the joy on his face. Then she considered the list of baby names, the sonogram, and the good-bye letter in a shoebox. Memories all tucked away but not destroyed. Some things never went away. Figuratively, she had her own shoebox filled with such things.
“I’ve found another place to stay.” She slid off the fender, breaking contact with him.
“You what?” he said in a confused tone.
“I know I’ve been imposing on you.” That was what you called taking the high road. “So today I spoke with a Realtor, and she knew of this lady who had a furnished guest suite for rent. We went over there. It’s a huge old Tudor-style house in a beautiful neighborhood, and there’s an old mansion at the end of the street that looks like a castle.”
He didn’t say anything, and she went on. “I met Mrs. Lamas, the homeowner, and she showed me the suite. It’s lovely. It’s a sitting room, bedroom, and bath with a private entrance. Also, Mrs. Lamas has a garage where I can park the car.” She stopped. She could have told him she loved the antique furniture and oriental rugs. The tester bed was not as large and probably would not be as comfortable as his was. “The bath has a footed bathtub that’s original to the house.”
He pushed away from the car. “Lia, I brought you here because I want you here.” His voice grew soft and edgy in the night. “Surely, you’ve realized that.”
“I have,” she admitted, letting the truth escape the cage inside her. “I want to stay, but I know I shouldn’t.”
She didn’t look up as another rocket whistled upward. “Last night, when I was putting the baby things in the nursery, I had to move the stuff you had in the closet upstairs. One of the shoeboxes fell off the top shelf and spilled on the floor.”
She knew he was aware of which box had fallen.
After a beat, she said, “I will have to leave eventually. You know that.”
“The eighteenth.” He surprised her by remembering the date she and Dallas planned to meet her father in Nashville. “I know.”
“Then you know I can’t make you any promises.”
“I’m fine with that,” he said. “If this is about me and the stuff in the shoebox, that was years ago, and sweetheart, I have moved on. Just the way you’ll move on without Dallas.”
Another rocket burst overhead, and he took her hand. “I want you to stay here. I’ve always wanted you to stay here. You want to stay, don’t you?”
“Yes.” She offered him a grin. “Even though you’re not an outlaw.”
“I might be an outlaw in bed.”
“Promises. Promises.”
Night had a way of making inhibitions vanish and problems disappear. One kiss melted into the next and spread awareness to every nerve ending in her body. Her senses soaked up everything about him. The strength in his hands as he kneaded her back. The way his mouth coaxed hers from one kiss to another. The light touch of his tongue against hers. She pressed her lips to his throat, tasting his salty flesh.
He lifted her top and slid his hands up her back and around to her bare breasts. “Look at you,” he said as he pressed his palms against them. “All naked and perky.”
She grasped the side of his neck and planted a hungry kiss on his lips while she rocked against him. At that moment, a couple of comets sent a burst of light across the sky. She sighed against his ear. “The sky isn’t the only place with fireworks.”
“We need to go inside.”
Those words resulted in a hand-in-hand dash for Aaron’s bedroom where a small lamp on the dresser burned low and cool air flowed from the air conditioner vent. Between quick kisses and sighs, they discarded their clothes and tumbled onto the unmade bed.
She liked that they were flesh to flesh. No barriers. Her excited heart hammered as she tapped her fingertips over his taut abdomen, playing notes only she could hear. She slipped her hands over him, fascinated by his lean muscles and the sprinkle of freckles across the back of his shoulders.
His mouth covered hers in a kiss that went beyond hungry. The need in him was palpable, and it wasn’t just in the way his hands browsed over her as if he were memorizing all her parts and then some. Or how he fitted his body against hers like he was putting two puzzle pieces together. There’s something else he wants.
More than sex and a night of gratification. Her thoughts skewed as he kissed the valley between her breasts. A jolt hit her body when he brushed his tongue over her nipple before taking it in his mouth. She fisted her hand in his hair. There’s something else he wants. The thought surfaced again.
She shifted up on her elbow, looking down at him as she splayed her hand on his chest. He reached up, gently pushed her hair over her shoulder, and met her gaze. In that brief instant, she saw the truth in an unchecked moment. He wants love.
“Aaron,” she whispered as she thought of Molly who had tried to love him but couldn’t. She thought of Dallas whom she should have loved but didn’t. Love was hard, and sometimes it didn’t last. Her family was a prime example of that. Her father and mother had come to hate each other. Her sister hated all of them. Candace hadn’t even loved her baby.
Thankfully, that was not true of the man who lay beside her. He had opened his heart to an unwanted baby. She placed her hand on the center of his chest. Maybe she needed to open her heart to him and admit to the truth that was taking hold of her, creating a melody inside her.
She sank against him, and her lips burned against his in an eager kiss, a promise of things to come. He groaned as she cradled his face with her hand and ran her thumb over his lips. The song in her heart rocked through her aching body. “Aaron, I want to make this last.”
There was a noticeable hitch in his chest. “So do I,” he managed to say before words became irrelevant. His mouth was on hers as he glided his hands down her back, over her hips, and between her thighs. She moaned against his throat as the sheets rustled. The fireworks outside were no match for the ones firing inside her.
He kissed her everywhere, nuzzled her breasts, her belly, and beyond. She swore as a newfound madness descended on her. For ages, she had kept sex on a back burner where it had simmered in isolation. Now, with her hormones in overdrive, it was boiling over and spilling out of her.
She clutched his arm as the touch of his tongue sent a ripple deep through her womb. She swore and grasped his arms tighter. “Aaron.” His name came out in a desperate cry. “Come here.” She wanted to press her needy body against his. Wrap her arms and legs around him. Hold him so tight their bodies were seamless. “Make love to me.”
He took in her tongue, drinking in her desperation before he pulled away to retrieve a condom from the bathroom. Sitting up, she saw the rose quartz on the bedside table and reached for it. The stone of the heart. At the moment, more than her heart was open to love. Her whole being was alight with passion and a hunger she had not felt in years.
“The pink rock,” Aaron said as he returned to the bed. He sat beside her, and they both looked at the gemstone in her palm.
“I didn’t tell you everything about it.” She tried to sound as serious as possible. “It’s an aphrodisiac.”
He stroked the inside of her thigh. “Babe, do you think we need an aphrodisiac?”
She dropped the pink rock on the table and ran her hands over his taut chest. “You are an aphrodisiac, Doc,” she said as the stroke of his fingers created a maelstrom of need inside her. “I think you must have a little outlaw in you.”
“Whatever it takes. You can call me Cole if you want.”
“No.” She laughed and gave the end of his nose a tap. “It’s you I want.”
“Say that again.” He pulled her close.
“It’s you I want.” She combed her fingers through his dark hair as they sank back on the mattress together. Tight and entwined. Tender and fierce.
“It’s you I want,” she sang in a whisper against his ear. Her heart wanted him. So did her body, and its swelling need took precedence. She clutched him tightly, her thighs shifting open to offer an enticing invitation.
He drew in her tongue, kissing her slowly as he accepted the invitation. She welcomed him with a breathy gasp. With his hand gripping her hip, they became a sweaty couple burning up the night, trying to get to a provocative place. A place of no return.
“It’s you I want,” he said while he rocked against her.
All she could do was dig her fingertips into his shoulders and whimper in response. Her feverish body arched against him, demanding and self-centered with one goal that prevailed over everything else. It was divine misery. Reeling from the feel of him, her legs gripped him tight.
For a moment, nothing mattered except the heat of their lovemaking. The world as she knew it slipped away as she spiraled out of control. “Aaron,” she called out to him as if only he could put an end to her agony.
“I’m here,” he murmured against her ear. “Always . . . always.” He held her tight, riding her hard until they both shattered like a couple of dazzling rockets shot into the night sky. Even after the moment had passed, she clung to him as if letting go would mean the end of the world.
“Lia.” He groaned her name, sounding almost drunk on passion. “God, that was . . . You’re amazing, sweetheart.”
She blinked, reality seeping back into her veins. She eased her hold on him. “It was the pink rock.”
He shifted onto his side. “Yeah.” He laughed. “If that’s the case, we need to get like fifty of them. Circle the bed with them. See if we could survive.”
“It’s all about what you believe.”
“I believe we’re great together with or without the pink rock.”
“Same here.” She gave his belly a quick kiss and headed for the bathroom.
Aaron felt a warm rush as he watched her walk away, her long black hair curling down her back and her curvy hips swaying. She closed the bathroom door, and he stretched out on the bed that looked as if a war had taken place on it.
He had never made love to a woman in this bed. He had bought it after his divorce, and he didn’t bring women home with him. That was something he didn’t do because it seemed too personal. He preferred hotel rooms where things were impersonal and distant. What he had just experienced in this bed went beyond personal to intimate. He had not been intimate with a woman since Molly.
He frowned as he thought about the shoebox filled with shitty memories from his first marriage and what Lia had told him: “I can’t make you any promises.”
During that conversation while they were watching the fireworks, he had wrapped himself in a lie.