The Proposition(52)
Aidan glanced away from the road to stare at her. “What? Why?”
“You don’t want to have to explain anything to him about what we are or what we aren’t. Not to mention you don’t want to have to pretend I’m your girlfriend.”
“Well, I hadn’t actually planned on introducing you as my girlfriend. I was going to lie and say we were working on a project together for work.”
“Oh,” Emma murmured.
“You didn’t think I was going to waltz in there and drop the bomb on him about the baby, did you? I think that would freak him out a little.”
“Are you ever planning on telling him?”
“And what would I say? ‘Hey dad, this is the girl who asked me to knock her up because her biological clock was ticking. Maybe once and awhile, she’ll let you see the kid if you want, but I signed a contract where I don’t have to have any parental or financial obligations.’”
Emma shook her head. “You know I had that part of the contract edited. Besides I would never keep the baby away from its grandfather...or its father.”
Aidan glanced over at her in surprise. “You mean you wouldn’t object to me having a bigger part in the baby’s life?”
Emma’s heart thumped so loudly in her chest she was sure Aidan could hear it. She fought to find her voice. “Of course, I wouldn’t mind. I want you to do whatever you feel comfortable with.”
Aidan remained quiet for a few seconds. Then he sighed. “I want to make one thing clear. Having a bigger part doesn’t mean I’m going to be a typical father and help you raise it. And I’m sure as hell not changing diapers or getting up in the middle of the night to feed it or anything.”
Emma bit her lip to keep from grinning. She continued chipping away at his hardened veneer little by little. It was a small step, but she would take what she could get.
“That’s okay. I didn’t expect you to do any of that. I just wanted him or her to at least know who their father was.”
“Then we’re good to go.”
Aidan pulled into the driveway of a modest brick home. Just like at his house, the yard was breathtaking. “You weren’t kidding when you said your dad had a green thumb,” she mused as they got out of the car.
Aidan grinned. “Wait until he shows you his rose garden.”
“He has an entire rose garden?”
“Yes, with several different breeds.”
“That’s amazing. Maybe he would be willing to give me some gardening tips. I’d love to have more flowers growing around the window of the baby’s room.”
“I’m sure he would be more than happy to help.”
As Emma made her way up the driveway, she stumbled. Aidan snaked an arm around her waist to steady her. “Are you all right?”
“I’ve just been a little dizzy lately. Another wonderful side effect of early pregnancy.”
“Glad to hear it wasn’t our exertions last night making you lightheaded,” he replied with a smirk.
She smacked his arm playfully. “You’re terrible.”
“Well, hello, there!” a silver headed man called from the side of the house.
Surprise flooded Emma when Aidan didn’t drop his arm from her waist. “Hey, Pop.”
“Good to see you, son,” Aidan’s father replied with a smile. He shielded his eyes from the sun and gazed at Emma. “And who is this pretty lady?”
“This is Emma Harrison. She and I work together.”
Emma extended her hand and smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Fitzgerald.”
“Please call me Patrick,” he replied, shaking her hand. “Do you like roses, Emma?”
“Yes, I do. I was just admiring all your beautiful flowers.”
“Come then. Let me show you my rose garden.” He held out his arm like a gentleman of the past, and Emma slipped hers through it. They strolled across the front yard with Aidan trailing behind them.
When they turned the corner, Emma gasped at the rainbow of colors. “Oh it’s breathtaking!”
“Thank you. I’ve just worked on integrating several new breeds.”
Aidan’s phone rang. After he grabbed it out of his pocket, he groaned. Patrick and Emma glanced over at him. “It’s work. I better take this.”
“Go ahead, son. The roses will still be here when you finish,” Patrick replied, good-naturedly.
Aidan walked around to the corner of the house. Emma delicately fingered a red rose before bending over to smell it. The intoxicating fragrance perfumed her senses, and she sighed with pleasure. “These are so beautiful.”
Patrick beamed with pride. “Those are Don Juan’s or Sweetheart Roses. They’re also known as climbing roses because they grow well on arbors and sides of buildings. The nice thing about them is they’re so resilient they don’t need a lot of pruning to come back year after year.” Patrick traced his finger over one of the thorns. “My late wife actually planted these.”