Aaron couldn’t get his mind off the tall, dark, dangerous guy who’d shut the door in his face. Not at home, and certainly not at work when they were in a lull. He’d had one or two very vivid daydreams about what he’d like to do to Rob if he ever got his hands on him.

“What is this!” Grace snapped and thrust her phone into his face. He couldn’t focus on it and worried if he moved said phone would give him a concussion.

“What am I looking at?”

Grace waggled the phone and scowled at him. “Oh I don’t know, maybe a Facebook group called ‘who’s the daddy?’ A group you’re a member of, asshole.”

Wait. How would she know that? The group was secret. Aaron realized too late that it was his phone she was shaking at him and lunged for it. She was too fast, scooping it back and pushing it into her pocket. "You left it in the cab, and I saw an update, so spill, Carter,” she ordered.

He could tackle her right here and now, get the phone back, and pretend he knew nothing, but she was pregnant, seemed pissed, and he feared for the survival of his cellphone and his balls.

He decided to go for cute. It worked most of the time.

“In my defense, it wasn’t my idea, and also you were never meant to find out about the group.”

“That is a shit defense, Carter.”

“I know.”

“Exactly whose idea was it?”

Aaron raised his hands. “I swore an oath—” he let out an oof as she smacked him upside the head.

“You’re an idiot, and I don’t know why we’re friends, but tell me, why the hell would someone put both Chris Pratt and Chris Evans as options for the dad?”

Aaron opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off.

“Don’t bother.” She tossed the phone to him. “Why is it everyone is so damn interested in who the father of my baby is, anyway?”

Aaron had a lot of answers for that. The mystery of Grace’s baby’s daddy was bound to engender interest, and the question that everyone discussed was why she wouldn’t just come out and tell everyone. Then there was the fact that Grace didn’t seem herself at all, quite apart from being pregnant and tired. Maybe it was only him who noticed the times she seemed lost, and the moments he caught her staring into the distance.

“You know what this place is like,” he offered lamely because that seemed like the safest bet.

She slumped to sit next to him, legs sprawled, and leaned on his shoulder, and for a few moments, they sat quietly.

“It’s complicated,” she said.

“You know I’m here if you need to talk,” he offered and then waited for her to turn around and say it was none of his business. They might be partners, riding the ambulance together, but at the end of the day, this was clearly something serious that she wasn’t ready to share. At first, he thought maybe it was because she’d considered whether to keep the baby, but no, she’d very clearly told everyone she was pregnant and added how excited she was.

“I’m not sure people would understand. Not even you.” She added the last part softly, but he heard it.

“You could try me.”

“I was seeing someone. They decided to finish things. They broke my heart, told me I needed to sort my life out and see someone my own age. I sulked for two months, then one night, I went mad, ended up sleeping with a guy whose name I don’t even know. Once, Aaron, and now look at me.”

She snuggled into his side and buried her face in his sleeve, and for a moment when she stared up at him, he thought she was going to say something else. But like every part of his damn life, the emergency call coincided with her open expression, and then they were rushing to attend, and there was no time to share anything.

They dealt with two calls back-to-back. The first, and easiest, was a ten-year-old falling out of a tree. The kid had been retrieving a balloon, and there had been a clean break in his femur. The second was way more complicated, and was a call that left both Aaron and Grace subdued after.

They’d both known the patient, Michaela Langdon, and finding her dead from an overdose from the pills scattered around her was a shock. It was widely known that she had breast cancer, but last Aaron knew she was fighting it and had been in remission. Maybe something had happened, bad news from the hospital, or had she just been tired?

“She was the same age as Saul, fifty-four. He was at school with her,” Aaron said as the two of them sat in the ambulance in the parking lot after their shift.

Grace stared at him in shock, like it hadn’t occurred to her how old Michaela was.

“I only saw her last week,” she murmured. “She was going to make a blanket for the baby. I never saw anything in her that made me think…”

Aaron wanted to say that he’d seen this before. On occasion, he could see when someone was on edge, knew that they were going to take their own lives. Other times there was no sign. He'd seen too many veterans eat bullets ever to think that he could tell just by looking at someone what their mental state was.

“Sometimes you just can’t tell,” he said.

They went their separate ways, but Aaron didn’t head home. Instead, he stood on the corner of Main and debated what to do next. Left took him to Carter's and his brother, Saul. Right took him to his car and up to Crooked Tree.

Why the hell was he debating going up to Crooked Tree? He certainly wasn’t going to visit the horses, and the man who was taking up way too many of his thoughts had shut the door on him, and that had to be a sign that he just wasn’t interested in Aaron.

Carters it was, because Saul should hear the news about Michaela from him, and he strode down the road with purpose, letting himself through the back and heading straight for the kitchen. It was three in the afternoon, and that meant one thing. Saul would be cooking. Carters offered a limited menu, mostly for drinkers late in the evening, bar snacks, that kind of thing. But it was all handmade by Saul, and there was a comfort in knowing exactly where to find him as he prepared it all.

He should tell Saul about Michaela dying. It would mean something to him, and he thought carefully about how he would word it. Saul was stirring chili, lost in thought when Aaron walked in the door.

“Hey, big brother,” he announced his arrival and went straight to the fridge, taking out a beer.

"Shoes!" Saul barked without even turning around. Jason always said their oldest brother had eyes in the back of his head, but Aaron knew it was just that all of them were predictable in all the stupid things they did, and Saul, as the surrogate parent, just knew what they were like.

“Already done it,” Aaron lied and toed his sneakers off before Saul turned around and saw he was lying, even though he bet Saul knew he was lying. Beer in hand, he moved next to Saul, wondering how to explain what had happened.

Saul side-eyed him and frowned. “Shit day, eh?”

“Not a good one,” Aaron began.

Saul must have seen something in his expression, and he laid down the spoon he’d been using. “What? What is it? Is it Grace, is everyone okay?”

How the hell did he word this? He’d told families about the death of loved ones before, and he’d had all the right training. But this was his big brother, and Michaela had been his friend for a long time. “We had a call to Michaela Langdon’s place. She’s taken her own life.”

There, he’d said it, ripped off the Band-Aid, and then stood, ready to be the support that Saul might need. He and Michaela had a friendship from school, but in a small town like this, that friendship had never gone away but had grown into them knowing each other’s business. She’d have been one of the friends who didn’t query why eighteen-year-old Saul was ready to give everything up to care for his four brothers. When she’d come back from college, she had been a solid support to Saul in the early years.

Saul was pale, stepped back from the stove, and sat heavily on the nearest chair. He scrubbed at his face, and his eyes were bright with emotion.

“Shit,” he muttered. “That was why she…”

Aaron got another beer from the fridge and sat opposite Saul, nudging the bottle toward him.

“What?” he asked.

“She was here two days ago, handed over all these recipes she’d been given by her mom. I should have known something was wrong because she refused to share them with me all these years, but she was adamant I take them, and then she hugged me. I asked her if she was okay, and she said everything was great. I thought she meant she was still clear of cancer.”

Aaron sighed. “I checked in with Doc Logan. He couldn’t tell me much just that the cancer had returned, aggressively. She’d been given the option of treatment to extend her life a few more months. I guess she decided to go out her own way.”

Tears collected in Saul’s eyes, and he raised his beer.

“Michaela,” he offered a toast, his words thick with grief.

“Michaela,” Aaron repeated, and they clinked bottles.

“Life is too short,” Saul said and picked at the label on his beer. “We fuck everything up, and then we die.”

“That’s not true,” Aaron defended. “What about living for now and making the most of things.”

“When you get in your fifties, then you’ll see. We’re all so old now.”

“You’re only fifty-four. That’s not old. Cancer is a crap shoot, Saul. Doesn’t mean it’ll take us all.”

Saul swallowed some beer and coughed, then changed the subject. “Her kids will be devastated,” he said. “Imagine losing their mom like that. Hell, Katie is in Japan studying, and Johnny is still at college.” He bowed his head. “Guess they’ll both come home for the funeral, put their mom to rest.”

Aaron allowed Saul a few moments of reflection, but then instinct kicked in. They needed to remember the good things about Michaela.

“You remember when I was thirteen, and she came over with Johnny when he was only little, and Eddie decided to play hide and seek only he got bored, and Johnny stayed in the bath behind the shower curtain for an hour.”

“I remember Michaela chasing Eddie around the garden with a broom.”

“And that time that…”

They exchanged stories; they remembered. But Michaela had been Saul’s friend, and it was he who spoke the most. At first, his voice would crack when he revealed the little things that made up a friendship, but then he became stronger. By the time the bar outside was filling, and he had to work, he seemed more even. But he did add something cryptic to the end, when he was staring into his coffee cup. “I’m right to think about my age.”

“I’ll man the bar,” Aaron offered after seeing his brother so sad.

Saul shook his head. “No, I need this. We’ll all raise drinks to her.”

Aaron stayed for an hour and then left, knowing that somehow, in all of this, Saul would be okay.

Then he didn’t know what to do with himself. He felt restless and antsy and headed for Hepburn House, changing his mind as he drew closer. Being there wasn’t what he needed. He knew what he really wanted, and he headed up the mountain and directly for Crooked Tree.

When he turned into the parking area, the clock on his dash showed it was six p.m., and he considered whether he should get something from Branches, given he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and that had been a donut he’d stolen from the night shift. The thought of Sam’s cooking was enough to have him heading to the restaurant first, and as if fate had planned it, Rob, Bran, and Toby were sitting at a table with menus in front of them. Pulling back his shoulders, he headed their way, knowing Rob had spotted him, and then slid into the fourth chair, reaching over to steal a menu from the table next to them.

“What’s the special?” he asked as if it was perfectly fine to have just joined the small family.

Rob stared at him, his eyes narrowing a little, and so much unspoken passed between them.

You’re an asshole, Rob was likely thinking, with an added fuck right off.

The waitress came over, took the kids’ orders, and then waited.

“Steak, rare. Fries, salad. Thank you,” Rob ordered.

“Make that two,” Aaron said and then waited for the explosion from Rob, just as he did every single time he talked to him. One day it would happen, and it would be delicious as hell to face off against him. One day Aaron would push Rob too far, and then that would be it. That was the moment they could fuck each other’s brains out and get it out of their system. But there was nothing. In fact, he deliberately ignored Aaron. He didn’t know why he wanted that fiery anger from Rob tonight. Maybe it was seeing an old family friend die. Maybe it was remembering Rob refusing to leave the car? All Aaron knew was that he was needy right now.

“How long are you staying here?” Aaron asked him, to get a conversation going. He couldn’t help but notice both children looking at their uncle as if they wanted to know the answer as well.

“We’re not sure,” Rob answered after a moment’s hesitation.

Aaron shifted in his seat, knocked his foot against Rob’s, and then deliberately left it there. He pushed again. “You must have some idea?”

“Uncle Rob says it’s a holiday,” Bran piped up, but there was a question in his tone. Rob ignored him, made a show of studying the menu, even though they’d all ordered.

“Is it a long vacation?” Aaron wanted something from Rob, confirmation, denial, anything more than the vague shit he was handing out about everything.

Rob put his menu down. “Can we talk?”

He asked oh so damn politely, but Aaron didn’t have to be an expert to see the flash of temper.

“Sure,” Aaron said

“Stay here, kids. We’ll be back in five.”

Aaron felt a swell of lust inside at the five-minute thing. He and Rob could expend a lot of energy in five minutes. Rob left the restaurant, and Aaron followed him out and back around the restaurant and into the trees. He didn't even see Rob move until he was shoved against the nearest tree and pinned there. The strength in Rob was precisely what he needed, the tough body pressed against him, and he was hard in an instant.

“I don’t have time for your shit,” Rob growled, pressing harder. If he expected Aaron to stand still, he was in for a surprise because Aaron had moves of his own. In a second, their positions were reversed.

“Now it’s my turn,” he said, his grip just as tight, and feeling Rob hard against him. Lust hung around them. “We need to clear the air here. A fuck might help.”

Rob did some clever shit with his feet, and Aaron ended up on his back, with Rob crouched over him, gripping Aaron's balls. "Are you an imbecile?”

Aaron smirked. “You gonna move your hand? Get me off here?”

Rob looked down at where his hand was, as if he hadn’t realized what he was even doing, and he released his hold before sitting back on his haunches.

“Rob?”

“You are a fucking asshole.”

“Back at you.”

Rob sighed noisily. “We can’t do this. I can’t do this.”

“But you want to, right? You need me to say the words, huh? I want my hands on you. I want you on your knees with my cock in your mouth. Here. Now.”

Rob backed away. “I can’t.”

“There’s no such thing as can’t.”

“You’re dangerous,” Rob muttered after a moment’s silence.

Aaron watched him leave, but then followed him. He could work with I can’t. They sat back at the table opposite each other as if they hadn’t just grappled on the ground. And sue him, but he pushed his foot against Rob’s and left it there.

“Did you fight?” Bran gripped Toby’s hand and stared right at Rob.

“No.”

The answer was short, and there was no affection in Rob's tone, no further explanation to reassure his nephew.

“Not at all,” Aaron said because kids needed comfort. He didn't know why Rob was an asshole. "Sometimes grown-ups need to discuss things where children can’t hear because we curse a lot.”

“Oh that,” Bran said, all matter of fact. “Uncle Rob curses in front of us all the time.”

“I don’t,” Rob defended.

He probably did, but luckily dinner arrived, and the subject was changed. Aaron kept up a conversation with the children; they reminded him of his niece and nephew. He watched Rob’s expression throughout the meal. At first, Rob was impassive and not part of the conversation at all, but soon he became thoughtful, and not for the first time, Aaron wondered what was going on behind his eyes. There was something else in that hard expression; sadness maybe?

I don’t need to know the man to screw his brains out.

“So Rob,” he said as they finished off ice cream for dessert. “Back to yours for coffee?”

He couldn’t fail to see the way Rob turned and stared at him, so he met that gaze head-on.

Do you want this? Aaron tilted his head, even as he knew he couldn’t ask that question in front of the kids.

“I don’t think so. We need to go,” Rob said but didn’t take his eyes off Aaron. “Coffee will have to be another day,” he added. He seemed torn, as if he hadn’t meant to say that, or was it just Aaron being over optimistic? There was something between them, a spark, and hadn’t he said that he wanted Aaron? That Aaron was dangerous?

What was stopping Rob? Was it the children? Was it Aaron himself? Was it something to do with the pain Rob was obviously in or the flash of uncertainty in his expression?

The man was intriguing, unsettling, gorgeous. All Aaron wanted to do was talk to him and find out what made him tick. It had been a long time since a man had impacted him like this. So many years in the army, and outside of his one relationship with Elijah, he was resigned to being the proud owner of several superficial hookups.

Of course, catting around when he was off duty had stopped with Elijah. He hadn’t had anything since then, not a connection, not making love, nothing. Hell, he and his right hand had a very close relationship.

Maybe that is why you’re obsessed with Rob. Perhaps this is an entirely physical pheromone type thing.

He sat back in his seat, watched the small Brady family leave, ordered more coffee, and thought about what time the kids would be in bed.

Then he could visit Rob. Just to talk.

Obviously.