The Ten-Day Baby Takeover(28)

Sarah gasped. She didn’t mean to, but how could she not? Roger Langford wasn’t Aiden’s father? How could that be?

Evelyn reached out and set her hand on Aiden’s forearm. “Aiden, darling. Haven’t we all been through enough with losing your father? Don’t tear us apart even more. I love you and you’re my son. That’s all that matters.”

Sarah turned to sneak upstairs. She had no business being in the room for this.

“No, Sarah. Don’t leave,” Aiden said.

Did the man have eyes in the back of his head? Sarah looked down at her feet. Damn noisy shoes.

“So that’s your response,” he said to his mother. “And when you say we lost my father, do you mean my actual father, or Roger? Because I know they’re not the same. There’s no other explanation for you sending me off to boarding school. There’s no other reason why Adam would be deemed heir apparent when I’m the oldest.”

“Aiden, there’s no good in dredging up the past. And I really don’t think we should discuss this in front of a stranger.”

“A stranger? You’re calling Sarah a stranger? She’s nothing of the sort.” Aiden bolted from his seat. “It’s time for you to go now. You can come back when you’re ready to talk. Until then, I don’t want to see you.”

“You’re going to keep me from my grandson?”

“That’s all on you. I have nothing to do with it.”

Evelyn blew out a breath, just as determined as Aiden. Family gatherings must be a real barrel of laughs with the Langfords. “You’ll change your mind. A baby needs his grandmother.” She leaned forward and kissed Oliver’s forehead, but Aiden kept both arms firmly around him. “Bye-bye, sweet boy. Grandma will see you soon.”

With that, Evelyn Langford traipsed out of the room. Aiden stood, facing the entryway, his back to Sarah. All Sarah could hear was her own pulse thumping in her ears. What she was supposed to say? What was she supposed to do? There was no mistaking the pain in his voice. True or not, he believed that he’d been lied to about his father.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said. “I’m sure that’s the last thing you would’ve wanted to trade your run for.”

She went to him, her heart heavy. “No, Aiden. I’m glad I was here. I mean, if that’s what you wanted.”

“It is what I wanted. Honestly, your presence probably prevented a bigger blowup. One that’s been coming for thirty years.”

She reached for his arm, wanting to comfort him even more than that. Here she was, stepping into emotional quicksand, the very last place she belonged if she was going to leave on Sunday with her heart in one piece. “I don’t believe that you would’ve blown up in front of Oliver. I really don’t.”

Aiden managed a smile, but it was as if it had been broken and cobbled back together. There was some part of him inside that was fractured. She’d sensed that about him the day they met, but now she was beginning to understand what had caused it. Her own family was so important to her. They were always there for her. Always. She couldn’t imagine growing up the way Aiden had. He might have had money and privilege, but that didn’t replace love. That didn’t replace knowing where you came from.

“Thank you for being here. That’s really all I can say.” He tugged her into an embrace with one arm while he held on to Oliver with the other.

She sank against his chest, so drawn to him, every inch of her wanting to make things better. Each second in his arms was another step into his world, but she would’ve needed a heart of stone to walk away. He needed her. And in that moment, him needing her was everything.

* * *

Oliver was sound asleep in his crib, but Aiden stayed, studying the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept like a starfish—arms above his head, legs splayed, tiny rosebud mouth open. After the upset of his mother’s visit, Oliver filled Aiden with contentment he’d never known. If he never had anything more in his life than Oliver, even if he never got the truth from his mother, he could be happy.

He flipped the baby monitor on, then crept out of the room, quietly closing the door. A few steps down the hall, a heavenly smell hit his nose. Sarah was cooking dinner and judging by that one whiff, it was going to be delicious. She was his savior today, but not because she was preparing a meal. She’d been there for him when his composure crumbled and anger threatened to consume him. She’d been his rock.

That left him in a peculiar spot. If he were smart, he needed to work very hard to keep Sarah as a friend, and as part of Oliver’s life. He couldn’t imagine her not being involved, even if it was only an occasional phone call or a visit on Oliver’s birthday. Considering his zero percent success rate with keeping a woman around for more than a few days, logic said he shouldn’t allow them to be anything more than friends. He shouldn’t cross that line, however attracted he was to her, even when every inch of him wanted her. Between her beauty, her spark and the sweet things she did for him, he didn’t see how he was supposed to stay away. He only knew he had to. Giving in to the temptation of Sarah—sweeping her up in his arms and finally tasting her lips, would likely end with her never speaking to him again. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want that.