intent he seemed on regaining her friendship.
Her cell phone rang. She tensed, afraid it might be Riley or Aaron with a question, but caller ID indicated it was Cheyenne.
With a yawn, she hit the talk button. “Hello?”
Wyatt tugged at her arm. “Pone, Mama? Pone?”
She smiled at his attempt to say phone . He was learning more words all the time. “That’s right, baby. Phone.”
“Presley? Hello?”
She could hear a certain amount of pique in Cheyenne’s voice. “I’m here. What’s wrong?”
“I just stopped by your studio.”
Oh, boy... When Cheyenne and Dylan had agreed to help her if she moved back, they’d indicated that the quickest way to lose their support would be to get mixed up with the wrong crowd again—and they considered Aaron and his friends “the wrong crowd.”
“I don’t know what he’s doing there, Chey,” she said, preempting her sister’s complaint.
“It looked to me like he was painting! ”
Stifling a groan, she covered her eyes with one arm. “He came over this morning and offered. It wasn’t as if I asked him.”
“You could’ve said no! You told me you’d stay away from him. If he finds out...I don’t have to tell you I have a lot to lose, too.”
Cheyenne hated lying to Dylan. And having her and Aaron in such close proximity threatened them both with exposure.
But Presley hadn’t wanted things to turn out like this! She’d tried to make the situation easier on everyone by leaving town. She’d planned to stay in Fresno indefinitely and would have done so if not for what was going on at Wyatt’s day care. She’d lodged a complaint, knew the day care was being investigated, but those days of doubt and suspicion had shaken her trust.
“I tried .”
“You said that you told him you wouldn’t be spending any time with him.”
“I did!”
“Maybe you weren’t blunt enough.”
The look on Aaron’s face when she squeezed past him at the bookstore convinced her otherwise. “He understood.”
“Then why is he painting your studio?”
She couldn’t figure it out, unless... “I can only guess that finding Riley there made him...competitive.” He wasn’t used to being rejected or upstaged. Most girls couldn’t bring him home to their mothers and expect their mothers to be pleased, but women were inexplicably drawn to the edgy, take-your-chance aura that surrounded him. Aaron dared what most men wouldn’t. That, coupled with his good looks, made him almost irresistible. Although he didn’t seem to take his appeal too seriously, Presley had witnessed the female attention he received and had often been surprised that she was the one going home with him at the end of the evening.
“Maybe he wants to be the one to reject me .” She’d always felt he was more attractive than she was. And his personality? He could charm most people—or cut them with a glance. He wouldn’t like losing the position of strength he’d held with her.
“Isn’t that what happened the night Mom died?” Cheyenne asked.
“More or less,” she mumbled, but he hadn’t actually said or done anything to change the status of their relationship. Had she not been pregnant, and had she stayed in town, they probably would’ve gone on like before—partying and sleeping together, at least until he met someone else. But she hadn’t been satisfied being a placeholder, hadn’t been satisfied with knowing that he was restless and would eventually move on.
Then, in the midst of her quandary about what she should do to protect herself before she got hurt, she’d run out of time to decide. Once she found out she was pregnant, she’d had to choose quickly—have an abortion, as he’d likely prefer, or throw her whole heart into raising their child alone.
She glanced over at Wyatt. He was sitting on the floor, playing with a toy that had pop-up Sesame Street characters. His face lit up when he noticed her watching and he slammed Cookie Monster back into his cubby just to show
Her cell phone rang. She tensed, afraid it might be Riley or Aaron with a question, but caller ID indicated it was Cheyenne.
With a yawn, she hit the talk button. “Hello?”
Wyatt tugged at her arm. “Pone, Mama? Pone?”
She smiled at his attempt to say phone . He was learning more words all the time. “That’s right, baby. Phone.”
“Presley? Hello?”
She could hear a certain amount of pique in Cheyenne’s voice. “I’m here. What’s wrong?”
“I just stopped by your studio.”
Oh, boy... When Cheyenne and Dylan had agreed to help her if she moved back, they’d indicated that the quickest way to lose their support would be to get mixed up with the wrong crowd again—and they considered Aaron and his friends “the wrong crowd.”
“I don’t know what he’s doing there, Chey,” she said, preempting her sister’s complaint.
“It looked to me like he was painting! ”
Stifling a groan, she covered her eyes with one arm. “He came over this morning and offered. It wasn’t as if I asked him.”
“You could’ve said no! You told me you’d stay away from him. If he finds out...I don’t have to tell you I have a lot to lose, too.”
Cheyenne hated lying to Dylan. And having her and Aaron in such close proximity threatened them both with exposure.
But Presley hadn’t wanted things to turn out like this! She’d tried to make the situation easier on everyone by leaving town. She’d planned to stay in Fresno indefinitely and would have done so if not for what was going on at Wyatt’s day care. She’d lodged a complaint, knew the day care was being investigated, but those days of doubt and suspicion had shaken her trust.
“I tried .”
“You said that you told him you wouldn’t be spending any time with him.”
“I did!”
“Maybe you weren’t blunt enough.”
The look on Aaron’s face when she squeezed past him at the bookstore convinced her otherwise. “He understood.”
“Then why is he painting your studio?”
She couldn’t figure it out, unless... “I can only guess that finding Riley there made him...competitive.” He wasn’t used to being rejected or upstaged. Most girls couldn’t bring him home to their mothers and expect their mothers to be pleased, but women were inexplicably drawn to the edgy, take-your-chance aura that surrounded him. Aaron dared what most men wouldn’t. That, coupled with his good looks, made him almost irresistible. Although he didn’t seem to take his appeal too seriously, Presley had witnessed the female attention he received and had often been surprised that she was the one going home with him at the end of the evening.
“Maybe he wants to be the one to reject me .” She’d always felt he was more attractive than she was. And his personality? He could charm most people—or cut them with a glance. He wouldn’t like losing the position of strength he’d held with her.
“Isn’t that what happened the night Mom died?” Cheyenne asked.
“More or less,” she mumbled, but he hadn’t actually said or done anything to change the status of their relationship. Had she not been pregnant, and had she stayed in town, they probably would’ve gone on like before—partying and sleeping together, at least until he met someone else. But she hadn’t been satisfied being a placeholder, hadn’t been satisfied with knowing that he was restless and would eventually move on.
Then, in the midst of her quandary about what she should do to protect herself before she got hurt, she’d run out of time to decide. Once she found out she was pregnant, she’d had to choose quickly—have an abortion, as he’d likely prefer, or throw her whole heart into raising their child alone.
She glanced over at Wyatt. He was sitting on the floor, playing with a toy that had pop-up Sesame Street characters. His face lit up when he noticed her watching and he slammed Cookie Monster back into his cubby just to show
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