21. Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
Aiden
I sent Lauren an apology text right after I left Cal’s. She shocked the hell out of me by apologizing back for being careless. It didn’t sound like Lauren. At least not the version of herself she reserved for me. My Lauren would have handed me my balls on a platter for behaving the way I did, in the middle of her business, no less. I didn’t like it. The text was too forgiving, too polite, too Citizen of the Year Lauren. I’d messed up. Big time.
Instead of trying to get a rise out of her via text message, I laid low a few days until Sunday afternoon, when I knew both Cammie and Wyatt would be working at Karma. I had the locksets I’d picked up and an excuse to be there while I installed them. And yes, I know, installing new locks at a café during weekend hours was a stupid idea, which was exactly why I chose it. The tables were filled, and Wyatt and Cammie were both hustling behind the counter.
Cammie glared at me, but Wyatt gave me a respectful chin dip and went right back to work. I ignored them both and walked into the back with my toolbox. I had everything spread out on a drop cloth by the back door when Lauren came running down her apartment stairs in an oversized Peace Falls High t-shirt, purple fuzzy slippers, and nothing else.
She was without question the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her long, toned legs went for miles, ending under her shirt, which I’d bet my tools she’d thrown over her naked body. Her chestnut hair was in the usual side braid, but pieces had fallen out, framing her face. Her eyes looked heavy, liked she’d bolted out of a deep sleep to race down the stairs and stop me. I felt a prick of guilt for waking her since I assumed with the hours she kept at the café she didn’t get enough sleep for a regular woman, let alone a pregnant one barely in her second trimester.
“I told you, I don’t need new locks,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Either in annoyance or to hide her pert nipples, probably both.
“Spare me,” I said, turning on my drill. She only got real with me when I acted like an asshole, and I was more than willing to oblige.
She kept talking, but when I didn’t respond, she shoved my shoulder. I switched off the drill and smiled up at her like a jackass. “What’s that, Princess?”
She let out a huff at the nickname and the tension in my shoulders eased. Perfect Lauren had left the building. The riled-up woman before me was exactly who I’d hoped to see.
“Stop making all that racket,” she yelled. “Why would you come here on a Sunday afternoon? You know we’re always packed, and you can’t change the front locks without stopping foot traffic into Karma.”
I narrowed my eyes, doing my best to look pissed even though her reasonable reaction was exactly what I wanted. “Because I work the other days. This is the time I have for this little project. Unless you want me switching the locks at 4:00 am.”
She nibbled her bottom lip, and I stayed quiet while she went through whatever tornado of thoughts swirled in her beautiful head. “We close at five today. Can’t you do it then?”
I smiled. Not only had I gotten her to agree to installing the locks, she’d given me a couple of hours to kill, and I knew exactly what I wanted to do with them.
“I guess I could do that, but I’ll need to borrow you until then.”
“Borrow me? Really, Aiden? We’re not having sex again.”
I shrugged like her brush off didn’t hurt like hell because as much as I wanted a repeat of what we did the day of the ultrasound, I had other plans. “You know I’m down for that whenever you change your mind, but that wasn’t what I wanted.”
“What else could you possibly want with me?”
Everything. “Your opinion.”
She snorted. “Like you’ve ever cared about that.”
I stood and walked close enough to make my chest ache. Fuck, I wanted to touch her. But there was something I wanted more: her trust. Falling into bed wasn’t the way to get it. “I want your opinion on the remodel I’m doing at my house.”
She shook her head. “Bullshit. You flip homes for a living. There’s no way you need my advice. You’re just trying to lure me into your sex den and tickle me with feathers until I beg you to fuck me.”
A genuine laugh burst from my chest. “What the hell, Lauren? Do you honestly think I have a sex den?”
She shrugged, her cheeks pinking. I couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or turned on, and the ambiguity sent a rush of blood to my cock. I shifted, hoping she couldn’t see the semi she’d just brought on.
She fiddled with the hem on her short shirt, which only made the situation in my jeans worse. “Rowan and Poppy said you never let anyone in your house, not even Cal or Theo. I figured if you’re inviting me, it’s because you do something kinky there and mistakenly assumed I’d want to play with you.”
Yeah, Princess, I want you to play with me. I shook my head, desperate to clear the images of Lauren in a windowless playground of sex toys. “I never let anyone into the house because I’ve been remodeling the kitchen and bathrooms then demoing them after. I’ve done it over and over again for the last two years.”
Her brows scrunched in confusion. I couldn’t blame her. I’d just waved my crazy flag right in her face. “Why? Are you that bad at making design choices?”
“I wish,” I said, sticking my hands in my pockets. This conversation was happening exactly as I’d planned, but actually getting the words out was like walking through wet cement. Theo and Cal seemed to get it without further explanation, or rather they didn’t need an explanation to accept my weird because they had plenty of their own. “You said I have anger issues.”
She nodded.
“I guess anger is my default, so I don’t feel other things.”
“Like fear,” she said, her eyes widening.
“Yeah,” I said, dropping my eyes to my boots. “Or grief. Disappointment. You name it.”
She shocked the hell out of me by hugging me around my waist and resting her head against my chest. “You do all the work to make something wonderful and then destroy it because of what happened to you and your friends.”
I bent and rested my head on her shoulder so she could feel me nod before I pulled my hands from my pockets and wrapped her in my arms.
“What can I do to help?” she asked gently.
This. Everyday. Let me hold you when I fall asleep and wake up with you in my arms. Let your warmth fill the rooms of my house instead of my regret and one-sided conversations. “Help me make the final design choices,” I said instead. Because anything else I told her would send her scurrying. “I think if someone knows my plan, I’ll be less likely to tear it up after I finish.”
She dropped her arms, and I let her step away from me, even though every cell in my body wanted to cling to her. “Why me?”
I shrugged. “You have the lowest opinion of me of anyone I know, so I figure you’re the safest bet to keep me accountable.”
Several emotions crossed her face at once: shock, sadness, anger, before she erased them all. “OK, let me get dressed,” she said, turning and running back up the stairs to her apartment, flashing me a glorious view of her bare ass.
I got to work packing up my tools and pushing down the shock that she’d agreed to come with me. A few minutes later, she returned in a short flowery sundress that showed way too much skin for my self-control and a pair of flip flops.
“Do you have sneakers or boots? I do my best to clean up, but there could be nails.”
“Oh,” she said, glancing at her feet. Her toenails were painted a deep red like a ripe berry. I’d always been more of a tits and ass man than a foot guy, but every inch of this woman turned me on. “I have rain boots. Would those work?”
“Sure,” I said, pulling my eye from her toes. She came back down wearing a pair of navy plastic boots covered in cats. Cats preening. Cats sleeping. Cats chasing balls of yarn. Fucking adorable.
“You like them?” she asked with a smirk.
“Hell, yeah,” I said, bending to get a closer look. “Where’d you buy them? I’m getting pairs for my nieces, so I can see them all the time.” I pictured the girls all lined up in matching boots. Maybe I could find raincoats to go with them. I’d have to get my nephews something too. Frogs maybe. Anything but fucking dogs.
When I stood back up, Lauren was staring at me with a strange look on her face. “Do you, um, do that sort of thing often?”
“Like someone’s rain boots?” I asked. I honestly didn’t have a clue what she was asking.
“Get things for your nieces and nephews. When it’s not their birthday or Christmas or something.”
“Yeah, I’d buy them stuff more often, but my sisters would have my ass if I spoiled them too much. Rain gear is practical. Anything like that, I can usually get away with. I got them all swimsuits last summer for our Fourth of July party and rented a water slide and splash pad.”
“That’s nice,” she said in a small voice.
I wanted to press her, to understand how rain boots could shift her mood so quickly. I reminded myself she was pregnant and pregnant women changed moods faster than Usain Bolt. “After you,” I said, holding open the back door.
She walked ahead of me into the parking lot and toward her beat-up sedan.
“I can give you a ride.”
She looked over her shoulder and flashed me a dimpled smile, and I swear my stupid heart skipped a beat. “No, thank you. I want my car in case you were lying about that sex den. Are you parked on Main?”
“Yeah,” I said, walking backward down the alley toward my truck. I didn’t like the idea of her driving that rust bucket anywhere, but my relationship or situationship or whatever you wanted to call it with Lauren had always included some give and take. “I’m parked at the corner.”
“Great,” she said, opening her car door with a key. The car was so old, it didn’t even have a key fob, but at least she’d locked it.
In my truck, I wrapped my sweaty palms around my steering wheel and paid more attention to my rearview mirror than the road ahead. By the time we both started down the dirt road leading to my farmhouse, my stomach hurt.
“Wow,” Lauren said, climbing from her car. “There’s so much space out here.”
“I love it,” I said, taking her arm as if we were back at Cal and Rowan’s wedding. “The ground’s a little bumpy. I don’t want you to fall.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re as bad as Cal with Rowan,” she said. The smile slid from her face, and she wrapped her arm in mine. “He must be so worried.”
I honestly hadn’t given Cal a thought lately, but the tone of her voice raised the hair on my arm. “What’s wrong?” Shit, I’d been a bad friend. I’d been avoiding Cal for so long, who knew what fresh hell could have dropped into his life. I figured if something terrible happened, Theo would have filled me in.
“Rowan’s surgery,” she said like I was the biggest idiot on the planet, which right now I might be. “Wouldn’t you be worried if someone you loved was having an operation on their spine?”
I’d forgotten about Rowan’s surgery. I knew it was scheduled for some time in June, but I couldn’t remember if it was the beginning or the end. If it was in the beginning, it could be as early as tomorrow. “Yeah, of course, I’d be worried sick,” I said, making a mental note to text Theo later and get all the details.
We walked through the yard and up the porch steps without talking. I dropped her arm while I unlocked my door because even out here in the middle of nowhere, I wasn’t making it easy for anyone to wander in. I motioned her ahead of me and enjoyed how her dress’s thin straps framed her delicate shoulders from behind.
“This is incredible,” she said, standing in the center hall.
I’d bought the house because it was next door to the barn, but I fell in love with it because of the entrance. The detailed woodworking on the walls and the staircase was unexpected and masterful, far grander than you’d expect in a farmhouse. “I did a little digging and found out a furniture maker built the house for his daughter and son-in-law.”
She ran her hand over the ornately carved chair rail. “There’s a lot of love in this. You can feel it.”
Sometimes Lauren’s new-age hippie tendencies drove me crazy, but I had to agree with her in this case. Now that I thought about it, maybe I should ask her to sage the house. But I had a feeling the only bad vibes here were mine, which I’d dump right back the moment she finished waving a sage stick around.
“I’m not touching this room,” I said. “Other than to give the walls a fresh coat of paint and make sure the light fixtures are wired to code.”
She nodded, still admiring the details in the trim work. As much as I appreciated the talent that went into making it, I didn’t want to spend all our time in the front hall.
“The kitchen is through the dining room here,” I said. “Watch your step.”
The room was large enough to hold a table for ten, which covered all the adults in my family, plus an extra chair on the off-chance I ever found someone I wanted as much as I wanted Lauren.
“I’ll warn you,” I said as we walked through the empty dining room. “It’s a mess.” I slid the pocket doors into the walls and her eyes widened at the destruction beyond.
“Right now, this is the only way in here, but I’m taking down a wall on the other side of the house to connect the kitchen with the living room and give the first floor an open concept feel.”
“You have a lot of space to work with,” she said, not commenting on the various holes in the walls that could only come from someone going apeshit with a hammer. “In all your remodeling, did you ever come across things you liked more than others?”
“Light wood cabinets,” I said. “Like scrubbed pine with brushed nickel finishes. Maybe white with brushed copper.”
She smiled at me. “So am I here to pick between those two?”
“Or suggest something better. What would you put in here?”
“I like white cabinets. Definitely a light countertop too, so you can see if it’s clean.”
“How about light gray marble?”
“Fancy,” she said. “If you go with copper finishes, you could add pops of dark blue.”
“That could work. I thought about adding a breakfast table with bench seating there,” I said, pointing to a corner by the large bay window. “I could make that a slate blue or colonial blue to bring in color.”
She shook her head and laughed.
“What?”
“You clearly don’t need me for this. Why don’t you just show me the rest of the house, so I can picture it in my head, and then you can tell me what you decide to do. I’ll hold you accountable.”
Because I want to know what your perfect home would look like. Because I don’t give a shit if it’s white cabinets or scrubbed pine. I just want to drink my morning coffee with you. “Sure. I’ll show you around.”
I quickly showed her the rest of the downstairs before motioning for her to climb the steps ahead of me.
“I swear if you slap my ass, I will punch you in the throat,” she said, gripping the railing.
Her ass was very smackable, but I wouldn’t risk her falling down the stairs for a cheap feel. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.”
She still glanced behind her several times before we got to the top of the staircase and looked relieved when I started walking beside her. I gave her a brief tour of my room and my latest bathroom remodel.
“Don’t change a thing,” she said, admiring the steam shower. “This is perfect.”
“Thanks,” I said, opening a drawer in the vanity to demonstrate the soft close.
“It reminds me of the bathroom we shared in St. John.”
“Yeah, I might have stolen some inspiration from there.”
She poked her finger in my chest. “If you tear this bathroom apart, I’m telling the entire town you have a furry fetish.”
I threw my head back and laughed, the sound echoing off the tile.
“Great acoustics for singing.”
I caught a glimpse of my burning cheeks in the mirror before I led her out into the hallway again. “I’m thinking of turning this room into a second primary by combining it with the room next to it. I can add an en suite like the one in my room.”
“Why would you do that?” she asked, peeking into both rooms, which at the moment were empty and decorated with ’90s floral wallpaper.
“There’s currently five bedrooms,” I said, answering her question and not answering it at the same time. “I’ll either turn this one into a home office or a guest room, maybe a combo space,” I said, pointing to the room closest to the stairs. “And this,” I said, walking ahead of her into the final room. “Will be the nursery.”
She froze in the hallway.
“I was waiting to paint and decorate after the twenty-week scan, assuming you want to find out if it’s a boy or a girl. If you’d rather be surprised, I can go with neutrals. I mean, I can do that either way if conforming to gender stereotypes isn’t your thing.”
“You have furniture,” she said, her eyes wide.
“Yeah, my oldest sister is done having kids, or so she says, so she passed along her crib and changing table. I’ll need to get a dresser and maybe one of those glider chairs. There’s wood flooring under the carpet, which I’ll rip up and then we can get a rug—”
“We,” she said, feet still planted in the hallway.
I shoved my hands in my pockets as my nerves made them shake. “Yeah, I um, thought maybe, if you wanted, you could move in here with me, so we can coparent better. The second primary would be yours.”
I’d wracked my brain for all the reasons a person as nurturing as Lauren didn’t want to be a mother and settled on two: lack of housing and help. I knew there were countless reasons more, but those two seemed the biggest I could easily eliminate.
The look of horror on her face was enough to suck every ounce of confidence from my body. OK, I know I’d dropped a lot on her, but did she have to look like I was the Beast about to lock her away in my house? And yes, I know my fairytale references. Any stellar uncle would.
“You want me to live with you?” she said, her feet finally moving. Backward. Toward the stairs.
“It’s just a thought,” I said, holding up my hands like I was trying to settle a wild horse. Definitely time to pull back. Did I want her to move in? Absolutely. But more than that, I wanted her to trust she could depend on me. “I could get your apartment ready for the baby instead, if you want. That second bedroom at the back would make a better nursery since it overlooks the alley. It’d be quieter than your room facing Main. Hell, I can fix up your apartment and put in a second primary here. Then you won’t have to choose right away.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I never had rain boots when I was a kid.”
OK, not what I was expecting.
“I didn’t even have pajamas. I used to envy the kids who had them. I called them pajama rich, like that’s even a thing. And living somewhere like this,” she said, motioning to the upstairs at large. “Wasn’t something I could even imagine.”
I took a cautious step toward her, watching carefully for signs she was about to bolt as I shrank the distance between us. Lauren had given me another peek into her past. I’d be a fool not to attempt to learn more. “That must have been hard,” I said, walking close enough to watch her pulse jump in her throat.
She nodded and her eyes went glassy. “It’s why I have so many clothes and shoes now. I don’t spend money on anything else because I’m always worried—”
Her voice dropped off, but for once I knew exactly what to say. “You’re worried something will happen and you won’t have enough to get by.”
She nodded and everything clicked into place. The beat-up car. The dingy apartment. The small staff at Karma despite the obvious success of the business.
“I didn’t have a lot growing up,” I said gently. “But I always had what I needed.”
“You had so much more than that,” she said, the tears falling freely now.
I nodded. “And so will our child. Our little lime will have so much love and will never want for anything. I promise you that. And if you’d let me, I promise the same for you.”
She turned and started walking down the hall. My heart shattered, but before I could call after her, she turned into my bedroom, leaving the door open for me.