Come Home to Me. Brenda Novak
I’d needed him.”
“Doesn’t he live in Arizona?”
Cheyenne had supplied everyone with this information, even Dylan. “He does, but he could come here. He has money, and he cares about Wyatt.”
“You’re in touch with him, then? He’s a stand-up guy?” He sounded hopeful, as if he wanted that for her. There was no reason he wouldn’t. To her knowledge, he’d never wished her ill, never done anything purposely to hurt her. He’d been too self-absorbed, but that was simply a byproduct of the fact that he’d never really cared about her, not like she’d cared about him.
“We don’t have a relationship beyond Wyatt,” she said, “but...he’s a great father.”
“That’s got to make a big difference.”
If Wyatt’s father helped out to any significant degree, she wouldn’t have had to clean the worst property in town in order to have a place to live but, thankfully, Aaron didn’t seem to make the connection. “It does,” she said. “And soon I’ll be earning good money myself.”
“As a yoga instructor, right?”
“And a massage therapist,” she added so no one would be surprised when she advertised her services. She wanted everyone to understand from the beginning that she’d be doing both. She needed all the legitimacy she could establish.
“How’d you get into that?”
“I met someone at yoga who became my roommate. He was a massage therapist.”
“He...”
“We’ve never been together, if that’s what you’re asking. Roger was gay. He paid half the rent and got me into massage.”
“I see. Do you have a license or...whatever it takes?”
“I did some yoga-teacher training. And I’m a certified massage therapist.” Luckily for her, a government grant had covered her schooling and Wyatt’s day-care expenses while she attended class.
“You’ve got big plans. When will you be open for business?”
“In a week, if everything goes well.” After she’d painted the interior of her studio and built her own tenant improvements, like the reception counter. She didn’t know much about construction but with the price of supplies she couldn’t afford to hire anyone, so she’d just have to learn. Dylan would do what he could, and Cheyenne would help when she wasn’t working at Little Mary’s B and B, but her sister and brother-in-law had their own lives, and she was in a hurry to get it done.
“Great.” He winked at her. “I’ll be your first customer.”
She knew he thought he was being charming, but she stiffened all the same. “Excuse me?”
He stared at her. “I said I’d become a client.”
“But...it’s not what you think.”
His smile faded at her affronted tone. “What do I think?”
“I’ll be running two legitimate businesses, Aaron. I don’t...I don’t party anymore. Or do anything else that might interest you.”
He scowled. “Because you know so much about what interests me after being gone for two years?”
“I know the only thing I’ve got that interests you. It’s all I’ve ever had. And I’m no longer willing to...to be one of your many sex partners. That’s not the life I’ve chosen for myself.”
“Many partners? Are we counting?”
She shook her head. “I’m not judging you.”
“How generous.”
That hadn’t come out right. She had no grounds to criticize anyone, and she knew it. “I’m not the same person I was, that’s all.”
A muscle flexed in his cheek. “You’re saying I took advantage of you before?”
He’d had a few brushes with the law, so his reputation wasn’t any more sterling than hers. The Fearsome Five, as he and his brothers had been called, were used to being blamed even for things they didn’t do—although she doubted that would continue. The last chief of police had recently been fired for misconduct; the new one didn’t seem quite so drunk on his own power.
“No.” She shook her head again for emphasis. “What happened before was entirely my fault. You never asked me to follow you around like a puppy or to crawl into your bed whenever I had the chance.” She laughed as she rolled her eyes. “It must’ve driven you crazy to have me hanging on your every word, your every move. I’m sorry I was so annoying.”
He didn’t laugh with her. “Yeah, that was pretty miserable.”
She could hear the sarcasm in his statement. He’d probably forgotten how much she used to irritate him, but she remembered. When her mother died, she’d instinctively gone to him for comfort, but he’d turned her away with a few sharp words for waking him in the middle of the night.
Still, she didn’t hold that against him. Not really. She just wanted the next man in her life to care a little more.
“I’m sure it was,” she said, taking his words as if he’d meant them literally. “But I won’t bother you this time around. I–I’m looking for other things.”
“So you’ve said.” Jaw hard, lips tight, he leaned one shoulder against the door frame. Obviously, he wasn’t happy with the way this was going. She could tell because of the badass attitude he’d adopted. It might’ve made her uneasy—that cutting glare made most people nervous—but she couldn’t imagine he’d get angry just because she preferred to keep her distance. He’d never wanted her to begin with. So why would it matter now if she refused to have any contact with him? He could have practically any woman he wanted. Even those who pretended to be too good for him sometimes cast longing glances in his direction.
“And what, exactly, are these other ‘things’ you’re looking for?” he asked.
“A husband for me and a great, uh, stepfather for Wyatt. A committed relationship.” Which counted him out. “So...if you’ll excuse me...”
He didn’t react. He was too busy searching her face with those hazel eyes of his. Maybe he was hoping to find the old Presley, but she hadn’t been lying when she said that person was gone.
When she stepped closer, indicating that she expected him to get out of the way, he shoved off from the wall and waved her past him with an exaggerated flourish. “Be my guest.”
Gone was the flicker of excitement she’d seen when he first addressed her. His expression had turned implacable, stony. But she had no reason to regret her words. She’d only done what she had to do. And she’d taken responsibility for the past, laid nothing at his feet.
“Thank you,” she said softly, and walked into the front, although it felt as if she were dragging her heart on the floor behind her.
Now she wouldn’t have to worry about running into him in the future, she told herself. They could both work to avoid each other—cross over to the other side of the street, if necessary. That would make the next few weeks or months, however long it took him to move to Reno, easier.
So why did her eyes sting with unshed tears and her throat feel like she’d just swallowed a grapefruit?
She was standing in line, face hot and pulse racing, when Kyle and Riley stopped Aaron as he strode toward the front of the store. They greeted him, and he responded, sounding perfectly fine. Her rejection hadn’t stung at all—which proved he’d never really cared about her to begin with. He’d used her, but the way she’d thrown herself at him made it equally her fault.
“Hey, Presley’s here,” Kyle said. “Have you seen her?”
She curled the fingernails of her free hand into her palm, praying