and everything about him was wrong. She supposed it could be worse. He could be married or eighty or gay.
“I know what I want to do with the rest of my life,” she said. She had to do the right thing. “I have an established career and something resembling a life. Yes, I have issues with my mother, but I’m working on them. I’m going to keep working on them. You need to go finish college and find out what you want to do with the rest of your life. You need to find a girl your own age and fall in love and get married and have beautiful babies.”
It was difficult to talk. Her throat tightened, and her eyes began to burn. “You’re really special, Stephen. I want the best for you.”
“This is bullshit. You think I care what other people think? What does age have to do with it? Why can’t you be that girl? As for what I want to do with my life, why can’t I figure that out with you?”
“Because you can’t.”
“There’s an argument.” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “You’re the one that I want.”
“You say that now. But you could change your mind tomorrow.”
“So could you,” he told her. “I should trust you because of your age?”
What she wanted to say was that he could trust her because he knew her. But she knew he would tell her the same applied to him. The part that scared her was that she knew he could be right. Which left her exactly where?
“You scare me,” she admitted in a shaky whisper.
He immediately dropped his hands and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Not that way,” she said quickly. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of what I feel when I’m around you. I’m afraid of what I want.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to see you again privately. We’ll go out on our dates for the show but that’s all. I can’t do anything else.”
“Aurelia, no!”
She turned and walked away. It wasn’t easy, but it was the right thing to do. She heard him start to come after her, then he seemed to change his mind. It was for the best, she told herself. It didn’t feel like it right now, but eventually she would get over him and move on. He needed to be with someone else. As for what she needed, she’d always been very good at thinking about others first.
FINN HELD the front door open as the last of Dakota’s guests left. When he’d returned with the prescription, the house had still been full of helpful friends. As he watched, they’d shown her the best way to feed the baby. That had been followed by a diapering demonstration and lots of other advice.
Denise, Dakota’s mother, had offered to stay, but her daughter had refused.
“I need to know if I can do this,” Dakota said, sounding brave.
“Call me if you need anything,” her mother said. “I can be here in ten minutes.”
Dakota looked like she was going to change her mind and ask her mother to stay, then shook her head. “We’ll be fine.”
Finn led Denise to the door.
“If things look desperate,” Denise whispered, “you call me.”
“I will,” he promised. Although if things looked desperate, his plan was to stay the night. It might have been a long time since his brothers were babies, but Finn remembered the drill.
He returned to the living room only to find it empty. Making a logical assumption, he went down the short hallway and into the baby’s room.
Hannah lay in her crib. Earlier, Dakota had changed the baby’s clothes. Everyone had agreed that she could wait on the bath. There had already been enough new experiences for one day.
Hannah stared up at the gently turning mobile. She was mesmerized by the rotating bunnies. But even as she stared, her eyes slowly drifted closed.
“I didn’t expect her to be so beautiful,” Dakota whispered as she brushed her daughter’s cheek.
He came up behind her and put his hand on her waist. “In about fifteen years, you’re going to have guys lined up around the block.”
Dakota smiled at him. “Right now I’d settle for getting through the night.”
“She’s on her medicine and seems to be feeling better. Her tummy is full, you know how to change a diaper.”
She stepped away from the crib. He followed her into the living room.
“You’re right,” she said brightly. “I’ve had a crash course in parenting. I’m going to be fine.” She smiled, which didn’t fool him. “You’ve been great. I really appreciate all your help. It’s been such a long day, you must be exhausted.”
She was working the program, he thought. Faking it with the best of them. He could see the terror in her eyes, but she was determined to be brave. At least on the outside.
This was where he told her he was leaving, he reminded himself. What they’d had before had been great. Fun and uncomplicated. Hannah changed everything. Dakota was now a mother. There were new rules, and he wasn’t going to screw with them. Getting out while he could made the most sense.
Except he couldn’t seem to leave. Her pretend bravery touched him. Her willingness to throw herself into a situation for which she was desperately unprepared made him admire her. Add that to the fact that he already liked her, and there was no way he could walk out. Even though it was the smart thing to do.
“I’m staying,” he told her. “You can’t change my mind, so don’t bother trying. You’re stuck with me for the night.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
She sank to the sofa and covered her face with her hands. “Thank God. I was trying to make everyone think I know what I’m doing. I don’t have a clue. I’ve never been so scared in my life. She’s completely dependent on me and I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He sat down next to her and pulled her against him. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to get the baby monitor and put it in the bedroom. Then we’re going to get ready for bed. I’ll be here, so you’re going to sleep as much as you can.”
“I’d like to sleep,” she admitted, leaning her head on his shoulder.
“Then here’s your chance.”
She raised her head. “Thank you for everything. You’re my hero.”
“I’ve never been anyone’s hero before.”
“I doubt that.”
He stood and pulled her to her feet. Together, they walked toward the bedroom.
Inside of him, a voice screamed that this was trouble, but he silenced the words. He wasn’t getting involved. He was staying for one night and then things would go back to the way they’d been before.
