Not Through Loving You by Patricia Preston (5)

On his way to the kitchen, Stevie glanced out the glass doors in the den. Aaron sat at the picnic table on the deck, shaded by a wide umbrella. Aaron had been out running, and his wet T-shirt was pooled at his feet. Sweat covered Aaron’s body, clad only in a pair of jogging shorts, and soaked his dark hair. As Aaron turned up a bottle of water, Stevie shook his head. Why waste all that energy running when you could waste it on a chick? Aaron could use some help.

Stevie stopped in the kitchen doorway, stifled by the smell of bleach. The large kitchen had cabinets painted green with oak trim, and matching oak beams ran across the high ceiling. A breakfast nook was where they always ate meals. The often-used kitchen door opened onto a small porch.

At the present time, the kitchen door was open, as were the windows and all the cabinet doors. The countertops were completely covered with items that had been removed from the cabinets, and three large trash cans with black liners stood in the breakfast nook.

Frank and Ralph were like two elves in a workshop. Ralph was on a stepladder, fighting with a piece of self-stick vinyl paper, and Frank had used barstools to prop open the side-by-side refrigerator-freezer doors. He tossed frozen food boxes as if they were basketballs into the garbage cans.

Stevie frowned. My whole family’s gone batshit crazy.

“Stevie,” Ralph called. He remained on the stepladder and pointed the piece of self-stick white vinyl toward Stevie. The end was stuck together. “Pull it.”

Stevie grinned. “I’m glad you’re talking about the paper.”

“Nobody’s in a joking mood around here,” Frank remarked. He sent a plastic bottle of ranch dressing flying through the air. A slam dunk in the garbage can.

While Ralph held one end of the piece of self-stick paper, Stevie tried to pull apart the two sides on the other end. “What is this crap?”

“It’s for lining the cabinets,” Ralph said. “Maggie always used it,” he said of his late wife. “Every time we moved, she put it down in the cabinets.”

Stevie looked up as he finished pulling the paper apart. “Why?”

“Hell if I know. Every time you breathe on the stuff, it sticks together.” Ralph gingerly held both sides of the paper and laid it inside the cabinet. “I think I got it this time.”

Stevie turned to his father, who made another great toss with a plastic jar of pickle relish. “Dad, are you throwing everything out?”

“Yep. Most of it’s past the expiration date, so I’m throwing it out.”

“Whoa. There are expiration dates?”

Frank handed him a jar of Parmesan cheese. “See.” He pointed to the “best if used by” print below the label.

Stevie nodded. He wondered if beer had an expiration date. Didn’t matter. It never lasted that long in his house. He tried his hand at tossing the jar in the garbage, and he nailed it. “Cool. Learn something new every day.”

“I don’t know about that.” Frank retrieved a spray bottle of bleach cleaner and squirted it inside the refrigerator. “We’ve gotta get this place cleaned up before Aaron loses his mind.”

“What happened this morning?” Stevie asked as he looked around the kitchen. He was going to have to go out for dinner.

“He’s not talking,” Frank answered. “He hasn’t said two words since he got back from the hospital. He just went to his office for a while, and then he went running.” Frank turned from the fridge with a worried frown on his face. “It’s the baby. I knew that wasn’t a good idea from the beginning, but he wants a family so bad. Just like Nancy.”

“Mom?”

“Yeah. He not only looks like your mother, but he also has her heart. Nancy loved having a family.” Frank’s voice grew soft. “She loved all of us so much. Me. You. Aaron. Terry and Greg. She was so happy to be a mom to you boys, and nothing mattered more than her family. She once told me that without us, her heart would be empty. Aaron’s heart is empty.”

“Dad.” Stevie couldn’t accept that anything was wrong with his big brother. When he was a little boy, he had always run to Aaron whenever he had a problem. So had his two other brothers. Although Greg lived in Atlanta and Terry was in Virginia now, they all kept in touch. Stevie wasn’t going to buy into the empty heart crap. “Aaron has family. All of us.”

“It’s not the same,” Frank argued. “The happiest I ever saw him was when he was married and there was a baby on the way. He was overjoyed. So much like your mother, it hurt me.” Frank fiddled with a dishtowel. “When it all fell apart, I was so worried about him. That’s why I ended up moving here. I didn’t think he should be alone. Now I’m worried about him again. If he has to give that baby up, I don’t know.”

“He’ll be okay.” Aaron was a doctor. He was smart and successful and one of the most level-headed dudes that Stevie knew. If anybody had their shit together, it was Aaron. Except when it came to women. If it were me, I’d be driving that red Jag, hand on the brunette’s leg, reeling her in. But Aaron had never been as innovative as he was. Maybe he should step in and help his big brother out. It was the least he could do.

“Stevie.” Ralph waved another piece of wadded self-stick paper at him. “Here. Pull it.”

* * *

On the deck, Aaron put the empty water bottle on the table and ran his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. He had run eight miles. Five was usually his limit, but he had pushed himself beyond that point. He’d been fueled by fury. Now he was practically lifeless from the exertion. He had sweated enough to be slightly dehydrated and have an electrolyte imbalance. He needed something other than water, like a sports drink with sodium, potassium, and magnesium in it, but he didn’t have any, and he hadn’t thought about that when he took off running.

All he had been thinking about was how his plan had totally bombed. Lia had gone into the panic he’d hoped for, but the result was not what he expected. She hadn’t fled in her red Jag back to her superstar-who-looked-like-an-outlaw lover where life was about gold records, eight-figure incomes, and posing on the red carpet together. He needed to stay off the internet.

“Hey.” Stevie came out of the house, carrying a plastic tumbler filled with ice and a can of lemon-lime sports drink. “Thought you might need this.”

“Thanks. I didn’t know there was any in the kitchen.”

“Found it buried beneath some stuff.” Stevie handed the can and the drink to Aaron. He pulled out a chair at the table. “You need to check the expiration date.”

“Really?” Aaron glanced at the can as he poured the contents into the tumbler.

“So how come you’re trying to run yourself to death, bro?”

Aaron shrugged. “Stupid.” He turned up the tumbler and took a gulp.

“You’ve never been stupid.” Stevie kicked back in the chair. “Has to be the chick and the baby.”

Aaron watched a doe amble out of the woods, followed by her fawn. The two investigated the edge of the lawn. “I’m probably going to end up in court.”

He confessed to Stevie that he’d taken Lia to see the baby and explained how things had gone south from there. “I knew the moment I saw Sheldon, I was screwed.” He turned up his drink, letting the refreshing lemon-lime liquid flow to his knotted stomach.

“She says to Sheldon, ‘My nephew is in the nursery for sick babies, and I would like to make certain that he can receive the care he needs here. Dr. Kendall and I disagree on the need for a second opinion, but it would give me peace of mind.’ Then Dr. Sheldon gave me that stern frown of his, and I felt like a med student again.

“So I sucked it up.” Aaron was well aware that Sheldon expected him to act professionally, not emotionally, when it came to his work. “I said I would arrange for a second opinion. Then, get this, she insists she’ll fly a doctor in from Johns Hopkins or UCLA. Even Sheldon was speechless then.”

Stevie studied his brother. “I take it that’s bad?”

“I don’t care who she flies in. As a doctor, I know they won’t find fault with John Aaron’s treatment. But that doesn’t mean they won’t side with her and recommend a transfer. I’m sure there’ll be some compensation for that.” Aaron crumpled the empty drink can in his fist. “She’d better be prepared for a fight.”

“I’ve never known you to back down.” Stevie tapped the side of his chin in the same location where Aaron had a small scar.

The scar was a result of a fight when he was eleven. He had come to the defense of his brother, Terry, who was two years his junior. Aaron had waded into the fray when he saw Terry being bullied by some older kids on the playground.

“I’m not on a playground now.” He looked across the table at his brother, and for a moment, all the fear and heartache bottled up inside him exposed itself in his voice. “I can’t go through losing a son a second time.”

Stevie’s brow creased in a worried frown as he sat up straight. “Okay.” He tented his fingers. “So you’ve gotta get tight with the girl.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron continued to crush the aluminum can. “I have nothing in common with Lia Montgomery.”

“You have the baby,” Stevie pointed out. “I know that’s not what you want, but it is what it is. And you need to make the most of it. Bro, women are not that hard. Listen to me. Here you’ve got this chick whose sister just died, so she’s got all this guilt and grief going on. And then there’s the sister’s sick little baby. Okay, so what’s Lia gonna do? I mean, she’s family. She’s gotta do something, or she’s gonna feel like crap about herself.”

“Stevie—” Aaron tried to cut in.

“You’re going at this ass-backwards by trying to scare her off. How’s that working for you? Acting like a jerk? No wonder she wants the baby transferred.”

Aaron threw the ball of crushed aluminum at Stevie, who caught it. “Just putting the truth out there,” Stevie said. “Of course, I know why you’re an asshole, but she doesn’t.”

Aaron glared at his kid brother, but he didn’t say anything.

“You gotta put on your sad face. Like this.” Stevie’s face crumpled as if he were on the verge of tears. “It works every time. I promise.” He grinned. “You need to say you’re sorry for how things went today. Keep the sad face on. Then you tell her you really could use some help because the baby doesn’t have any clothes.”

“What? He’s in an incubator. He doesn’t need clothes.”

“It’s not about the baby needing clothes. For chrissake, do you know nothing about women? It’s about shopping. The magic word. Shopping,” Stevie reiterated. “Tell her you’d like for her to pick out some clothes for the baby and, hey, decorate the nursery, too. She’ll go wild. Shopping for baby stuff. That’s like mainlining heroin for women.

“Tell her you want her to pick out some toys, too. And then you go from sad face to hopeful face. Like a dog waiting for a treat. And you say that with her help, you think you can be the best dad ever. Bingo! You win! She’ll be thrilled because she’ll get to feel good about herself, and she’s getting to help with the baby. You got her hook, line, and sinker.”

“That’s crazy.”

“What’s crazy is you sitting out here, covered in sweat, having a pity party about the past. You’re missing the opportunity of a lifetime, if you know what I mean. Call her.”

“I can’t call her. I don’t have her number.”

“You didn’t get her number? Holy shit.” Stevie threw the ball of aluminum back at Aaron, who caught it. “You know, that’s standard protocol.”

“Maybe,” Aaron replied. “But in this case, she’s not available.”

Stevie leaned forward. “Every chick is available if you play your cards right, bro.”

“Jesus, Stevie.” Aaron pushed back the metal chair and stood. The noise he made startled the doe. She fled into the woods with her baby on her heels. He stretched his arms as he watched them disappear. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“While you’re in there, practice the sad face. I can do it at the drop of a hat.” Stevie’s expression turned despondent. “It’s gotten me laid a bunch of times.”

“I’m not a con artist like you.” Aaron groaned as he scooped his wet T-shirt off the deck floor.

“Listen, I’m not telling you to be a prick. I’m trying to help you help the baby. It’s all about him. You’ve gotta do what’s necessary for his sake, and that includes laying the charm on his aunt or risk losing him. It’s up to you.”

“Shit.” As much as Aaron hated to admit it, he knew Stevie was right.

“Sad face. Shopping. Surrender.” Stevie stuck up his thumb. “You gotta go for it.”

At seven o’clock that evening, Aaron stood in the hallway at the Lansdale Hotel. Going for it. The door to Suite Thirty-Two loomed in front of him. Talk about the weekend from hell. He smoothed his hair from his forehead. He was dressed in clothes fresh from the cleaners. White shirt with black pinstripes and black trousers.

Sad face intact, he knocked on the door. “Lia,” he said. “It’s Aaron.”

The door opened, and the first thing he noticed was that all she had on was a pink knit tank top with “Sweet Dreams” across her bust and a pair of matching boxer shorts. Is that what she sleeps in?

“Has something happened to the baby?” she asked in a fearful voice.

“No,” he reassured her. “I just saw him. He’s fine.”

“Oh.” She tapped her hand against the center of her chest and sighed with relief. “I thought you were here to tell me he had died.”

“No. Nothing like that.” Aaron cleared his throat. Dampness curled the ends of her long hair that spilled over her shoulders, and she smelled of soap and bath powder. Sweet dreams. “I’d like to talk if you’ve got a minute,” he managed to say.

“Yeah.” She gave him a look of uncertainty as she stepped aside. “Sure. Come in.”

“Thanks.” He followed her into the living room area where she retrieved a guitar and writing supplies from the sofa as he watched. Her feet were bare, and the shorts barely covered her hips.

“I should’ve called first.” Maybe then she would have been dressed.

Carrying the guitar and notebooks pressed against her chest, she glanced over her shoulder at him. With no makeup, her green eyes looked youthful and trusting. She smiled, causing his long-dead heart to jolt like it had been hit with a surge from a defibrillator.

“I should go,” he announced abruptly.

“No. Stay,” she said as she walked into the bedroom and put away the guitar. “We need to talk about the baby.”

He pulled himself together at the mention of the baby and settled in the center of the sofa. He had to keep his mind on track and stop letting it wander off into forbidden places. That might be hard, he decided as he watched her tug on the hem of her shorts as she came out of the other room. She walked over to the wet bar.

“You want something to drink?”

Actually, he did, but he declined. As Lia opened a soft drink can and poured it over ice, she hummed. Then she sang in a low voice, “When the storm ends, the sun shines through.”

He thought she had a beautiful voice as she continued, “When the sun shines through, there’s a rainbow for me and for you.” She stopped and shook her head as if she were unsatisfied.

“Is that one of your songs?” he asked as she took a seat in the armchair opposite the sofa.

She folded her long, bare legs beneath her. “Right now, it’s just an idea. I always start out with lines and snippets. Sometimes it comes together. Sometimes not,” she concluded. After a moment of silence, she gave him an expectant gaze.

For the first time in his life, he wished he were Stevie. As it were, all he had was Stevie’s advice. Sad face. Aaron tried to look as humble as possible when he spoke to her. “I’m sorry things didn’t go so well at the hospital today. That was all my fault. I think it’s a combination of stress and emotion. Becoming a father is huge.”

He kept the sad face intact. “Raising John is the most important thing in the world to me, and I want to be a great dad.” He swallowed. Spit it out. “But I may need some help.”

She gave him a bewildered glance. “What kind of help?”

“The baby doesn’t have any clothes,” he blurted out.

“What?” she gasped.

For added effect, he raked his fingers through his hair. “I work long hours, and I don’t even know where to buy baby clothes or whatever. I don’t really go shopping.”

Her body language hummed with eagerness. “I can do that.”

“I couldn’t ask that of you.” Time for unselfishness. “I know you’re busy.”

“No.” She set her drink on the coffee table and looked at him, all smiles. “I’m not busy. I’m taking a few weeks off, and I’d love to buy baby clothes. That’ll be so much fun!”

“I don’t have anything for the nursery either. Like a crib or all the stuff you need.”

“I can get all that, too.” Now she was bouncing in the seat with excitement.

“I’ll give you my credit card,” Aaron offered generously. What a great guy he was becoming. How could she even think of bringing in another doctor? “And I could use some pointers on what I need to do around the house before the home study.” He was on a roll.

She gave him a thoughtful gaze. “I think you have a lovely place, and the house has great potential, but it needs a good cleaning and decorating.”

“We’re in the processing of cleaning now, and after we finish the painting, I’m buying new furniture. Maybe you could help with that?”

“Sure.” She studied. “What colors do you want to use in the nursery?”

“Colors?” He shrugged. “Whatever you think looks good for a little boy will be fine with me.”

She beamed, and he was actually feeling pretty good himself. “What size is the nursery?”

He thought for a moment. The room he planned to use was across the hall from the master bedroom suite. Currently, it was his study, but he planned to move that upstairs. “It’s an average-size room like a spare bedroom.”

“I’ll look at some nursery furniture and get back with you on what will fit in the room.”

“You can come out to the house and take a look at the room tomorrow if you want.” Why not?

“Okay.” She swung her legs out straight and pressed her palms against her knees. “I want to buy one of those huge teddy bears for the nursery.” Already shopping in her mind.

“That would be great,” he said, ramping up the encouragement. “And Big Bird. Elmo. Thomas the Train. A red rocking horse.”

With exhilaration, she said, “I can’t wait! I’m so glad you came by tonight.”

“Me, too,” he admitted. This might be working out a little too well.

“I was actually going to try to get in touch with you in the morning.” Lia wiggled her bare toes. “This afternoon, a good friend of mine in Nashville put me in touch with a pediatrician who she’s known for years. Dr. Gulati. He’s retired from the faculty of the Children’s Hospital at UAB.”

The muscles across Aaron’s shoulders tensed, and the hostility of a protective parent simmered inside him.

“Dr. Gulati was so sweet,” she gushed. “He went over a lot of things with me about premature babies. It seems most of the problems Baby John has are to be expected and that I just overreacted, which he said was commonplace. He told me that parents are often overwhelmed during their first visit to the NICU.”

Aaron looked at the floor. Nondescript beige carpet.

“Dr. Gulati told me that since the baby was gaining weight and on bottle feedings, that was very good, and since the baby wasn’t on a ventilator and stuff like that, he didn’t see any reason the baby would need to be moved to a larger NICU.

“After talking to him, I felt terrible.” Lia pushed the curtain of dark hair from the side of her face and shrugged. “It seems I’m always jumping to the wrong conclusions when it comes to you.”

Speechless, Aaron sat like a statue on the sofa.

“Dr. Gulati gave me the name of an online support group for parents of preemies where they have message boards. I talked to several moms, and I feel so much better about everything.”

She gave him a vivacious smile. “I was going to go home tomorrow after I apologized to you, but not now. I’m so excited about decorating Baby John’s nursery. It’s going to be fabulous, I promise,” she said. “And the house, too. I’ll help out with that, so don’t feel overwhelmed or that you’re in this alone because you’re not.”

He sank back in the sofa cushions. Amazingly enough, he had managed to dig his own grave.

She reached for her soft drink glass, and the melting ice wet her lips as she took a drink. “Are you sure you don’t want something?”

He looked into her emerald eyes. He definitely wanted something, but he couldn’t have it. He wasn’t making the same mistake twice. Music came from her phone lying on the desk, and the sound of Dallas Peyton’s voice filled the room as he sang one of his hits about how he’d been traveling on a long, dark road alone until love came along.

“Excuse me.” She didn’t look particularly thrilled as she got to her feet. He watched the edge of her shorts float just below her hips as she retrieved the phone and walked into the bedroom.

As restlessness strummed through his veins, he stood. He stepped outside on the small balcony where the muggy air was typical of a summer night, along with the faint sounds of a dog barking and car doors slamming. Molly had left him in the summer. June tenth to be precise. Some things you never forgot. Good memories were a blessing. Bad ones, a curse.

He blocked those thoughts. It was the here and now that mattered. As far as Lia Montgomery was concerned, she was part of the here and now, but not the future. All he had to do was stay in her good graces until the adoption process was finalized and John was legally his child. Then Lia would no longer be a threat, and he could be finished with her.

He stepped back inside and waited near the door until she came out of the bedroom. Subdued, she appeared to have packaged up all her shopping excitement and tucked it away. She put her phone on the desk and turned to him. “How do I get in touch with you about the baby things?”

“My business card has all my contact numbers.” He opened his wallet and pulled out his business card, along with his American Express card.

She refused the credit card. “I owe Candace.”

He didn’t necessarily agree. John’s birth mother had never once mentioned having a sister, and he doubted that Lia would have ever known about the baby if her sister hadn’t died.

“It shouldn’t be all on you.”

“I’m good with it.”

“What’s your number?” He added her phone number to his contacts in his smartphone. Stevie would be proud of him.

As he pocketed his phone, he had no good reason to keep standing in her suite and longing to be in her bed.

“I’ll be in touch,” she said.

“Okay.” He opened the door. The silence between them was marked with the awkwardness of two people struggling with the inescapable fact that they didn’t want the night to end. “I’m glad things are good between us.”

Her gaze lingered on his face. He could almost feel the heat of it. Without words, passion called to him. A stronger man might have resisted, he thought as he anchored his hands on her hips and pulled her to him. In the back of his mind, a siren wailed, but he liked the feel of her firm body and the taste of her tender lips.

She pressed her fingers against his jaw and pulled her mouth from his. “You have to go,” she whispered, but the truth was always loud, unforgiving, and hard to face sometimes.

“Yeah.” He pushed away from her and from all the promise that brief kiss had held.

She stopped him as he stepped into the hallway. “What time can I come look at the nursery?”

He gave her a blank look. “The nursery at your house so I can get an idea of how to furnish it,” she reminded him.

“Tomorrow around five will be good.”

“See you then.” She stepped back, and the door closed with a quiet click.

He pressed his shoulder against the doorframe. He started to knock on the door and tell her they shouldn’t fight what they both wanted. Before his fist made contact with the door, he thought of Molly and her reluctance, which he had foolishly ignored.

“Aaron, you have to go. Okay?” They had stood on the stoop of Molly’s apartment building on a spring evening. “It’s too soon.”

“No.” He pressed her hand to his lips, subduing her resistance. “It was too late the moment we saw each other. You know that.” He had pushed her into an affair, never once thinking Molly would become the biggest regret of his life.

He hadn’t seen that coming until it was much too late.

It was not too late now, and it was easy to see that Lia Montgomery could become the second biggest regret of his life. He stuck his hands in his pockets and headed down the hallway.

As he reached the lobby, his phone hummed, and he checked it. He read Stevie’s message.

Aaron followed a concrete walkway lined in marigolds thriving in the warmth of the midsummer’s night. There was probably a little truth in what Stevie said. For sure, Lia had been excited, and she’d been arousing to watch. He’d admit that in a heartbeat.

As he headed across the well-lit parking lot toward his Range Rover, he saw the red Jaguar, gleaming beneath the haze of a vapor light. Luminous and dazzling, it belonged to Dallas Peyton. Just like Lia.

He replied to Stevie’s message.

Stevie shot back: WTF? UR HOPELESS. But hey, hopeless can be treated. He added an emoji of a smiley face wearing a surgical scrub cap and mask. Just call me the Love Doctor.