Where She Belongs (27 page)

“How could you, Brett?”

“If it's any consolation, I felt guilty enough to break it off.”

“She said she broke up with you. That it had been a mistake.”

“Meghan doesn't always tell the truth.”

“She should have told me the truth about Jonah.”

“Why would she, AJ? You came sweeping in like you always do, the hero slaying the dragon.”

AJ paced the room, then plopped on the couch. Elbows propped on his knees, he pressed his forehead against his interlaced fingers. “I didn't know you'd slept with her.” Bitterness soured his mouth.

Brett sat in a nearby chair and crossed his ankles on the coffee table. “Meghan doesn't care about either of us, AJ. Her only concern is that boy.”

The words echoed through AJ's brain as the truth he thought he knew turned inside out. The apartment was silent except for the hum of the A/C and the beating of his own heart.

“You don't have to worry about Meghan anymore. Or Jonah.”

“I can't turn my back on them.”

“I'm not telling you to. After all, you're still his uncle.” He paused, and AJ raised his eyes. “But I am asking you to give me a chance to, I don't know, make amends somehow.”

“You? What about the blonde-of-the-week?”

“Maybe it's time for me to hire a brunette.”

“Right.”

Brett's eyes bored through him. “Go to Shelby, AJ. Win her heart and be a dad to those two little hooligans who are so crazy about you.”

The perfect plan. If only she stayed at Misty Willow. “Shelby may be moving.”

“Why?”

“That little thing called a lawsuit. Have you talked to Amy?”

“I'll call her this afternoon.”

“It won't do any good. When did she ever give up anything?”

“Never.” Brett planted his feet on the floor and leaned forward. “I'm starving. How about I buy you lunch?”

AJ blew out air. He needed time to figure things out, to decide what to do about Meghan and Jonah.

“What do you say?” Brett asked.

AJ shrugged. “Why not?” He stood and grabbed his ball cap from the counter. “One condition. I don't want to talk about Meghan.”

“Okay. I don't want to talk about Shelby.”

“Or your hunt for a new Tracie.”

“What does that leave us?”

“Sports?”

“Sports.”

As he waited for Brett to put on his shoes, AJ rotated his shoulders and consciously relaxed his tense muscles. He hated to admit it, but Brett was right about doing him a favor. If what he said was true—and Brett would never admit to fathering a child that wasn't his—then AJ's heart no longer needed to be torn in two.

He'd still do whatever he could to help Meghan. But now he was free to give his whole heart to Shelby and her girls.

If she'd let him.

W
ith hands on her hips, Shelby surveyed the kitchen table. American flags of assorted sizes, patriotic bunting, and miniature tin pails were scattered between packages of red, white, and blue napkins, plastic plates, and tableware. A bouquet of red-tinted white carnations lay across a pile of candles, stencils, paints, and brushes.

“Let's get these things sorted out,” she said, “and we can start painting.”

“Can I paint this one?” Tabby grabbed the nearest pail.

“In just a minute, okay?” Shelby moved the bouquet to the sink and split open the plastic wrapping.

“These are going to be so adorable.” Jillian rummaged through the pile for the stencils. “What a fun idea.”

A knock shook the screen door, and Shelby turned from the sink.

“Mr. AJ!” Elizabeth scampered to the door and pushed it open. “We're having a party tomorrow. Look!”

“Tomorrow? That's sudden.” He rubbed Lila's head as she pressed against his leg.

“Everyone I asked to come for the Fourth already had plans,” Shelby said as she trimmed the flower stems and stuck them in a pitcher. Later she would arrange them in smaller containers. “So
we decided to have our celebration cookout tomorrow. Will you be able to come?”

“Wouldn't miss it.”

“Lila can come too, can't she, Mommy?” Elizabeth said.

“If Mr. AJ wants her to, she can.” She focused on the flowers and prayed her voice didn't quiver. “Which reminds me, I invited Meghan for the Fourth, so I need to let her know about the change. But I don't have her number.”

“Who's Meghan?” Jillian asked, and Shelby shushed her with a look.

“An old friend,” AJ said, fidgeting with the paints. “Her son's in the children's hospital in Columbus. I doubt she'll leave him even for a party as grand as this.”

Relief eased the jealous bile upsetting Shelby's stomach but didn't comfort her. Meghan needed a friend, not a rival. And Shelby should be that friend.

After sauntering to her side, AJ sniffed the carnations. “Anything I can do to help?”

He stood too close, his minty breath and woodsy aftershave tormenting her senses. She cut the last stem and slipped the carnation into the pitcher. “There are boxes of mason jars in the trunk of my car. Could you bring them in?”

“You're canning something?”

“They're for flowers and candles.” She washed and dried her hands. “The extra car key is on that hook.”

“I remember.” He grinned and disappeared out the door with Lila following after him.

Shelby and Jillian cleared one end of the table and covered it with a craft cloth. By the time AJ brought in the last box and stacked it against the wall with the others, the girls were using the stencils to paint stars and “Happy 4th of July” on the silver pails while Jillian supervised and Shelby sorted the flags.

“That's the last box.” He waved one of the larger flags. “What are you going to do with all these?”

“I haven't decided yet,” Shelby said as she opened the cloth bunting. “These go on the front porch railing.”

“I can do that.” He gathered the other packages. “Got a staple gun?”

“I'll get it.” Retrieving the toolbox from the back room gave her a few moments to calm her breathing. All the emotion from the previous evening welled up within her. He'd been the rock she needed, his arms holding her safely together when grief melted her skin. But after a sleepless night, she had resolved not to allow such intimacy again.

A resolution made and broken before.

She returned to the kitchen and handed him the toolbox. Their fingers brushed, shooting warm tingles into her heart. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” As he entered the hall, she pulled a chair from the table and reached for a pail. “Aren't you coming?”

She looked up in surprise. “Do you need me to?”

“Yeah.” His brown eyes drew her into their depths. He obviously needed to talk, and she couldn't resist his silent plea.

She turned to Jillian. “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead. We'll be fine, won't we, ladies?”

Elizabeth and Tabby, engrossed in their stencils and paints, cheerfully agreed.

When they reached the porch, AJ dropped the bunting packages onto the swing and dug the staple gun out of the toolbox. Shelby unfolded the patriotic cloth along the rail. “It's festive, isn't it? I think we can fit three of these along here and one on the side.”

“Who all's coming to your cookout?”

“Cassie and Jason, Jillian and Seth, Seth's family. I stopped in to see Uncle Richard when we were in town and invited him.”

“How is he?”

“I'm not sure. He seemed fine, but he doesn't look very well.” She held the edge of the bunting against the underside of the rail while AJ knelt to staple it in place. “He needs to retire. Take things easy.”

“He'll never leave that bank.”

“Probably not.”

AJ finished stapling the center bunting, then opened another package while Shelby arranged the red, white, and blue cloth.

“You'll never guess who I had lunch with today.” AJ unfolded the fabric, then gave it a shake.

“Not Amy?”

“No, but you're close. Brett.”

“They're not going to drop the lawsuit, are they?” Knees wobbling, she pushed aside the unopened packages and dropped onto the swing. She hadn't expected Amy to stop her fight, but deep inside she'd been hoping for a miracle.

AJ moved the packages to the floor and sat beside her. “I don't think so, but that's not what I need to talk to you about.”

Dread tightened her stomach, and she shifted away from him. “Sounds serious.”

“I made a mistake.”

“About what?”

“Turns out I'm not Jonah's father.”

“What?”

“Brett is.”

Her mouth dropped open. “But why,” she stammered, “why would Meghan say you were?”

“She didn't.” He shrugged and spread his hands. “But neither did she tell me I wasn't.”

Shelby bit her inner lip. She hated admitting that in her heart of hearts she wanted this—for AJ to be free of Meghan and Jonah. So why did she feel sick to her stomach?

“I'm sorry,” she said, bowing her head. AJ reached for her hand, and she laced her fingers with his. Though soothed by the warmth of his skin against hers, indignation kindled into resentment. “Meghan was dating both you and Brett at the same time?”

“
We
were dating. Apparently she and Brett were doing more than that.”

“You weren't . . .”

“No, we weren't.”

“Then why did you think you could be Jonah's father?”

“I woke up one morning with a horrific hangover, and she was lying there beside me. I didn't remember anything, but a few weeks later when she said she was pregnant,” he said with a shrug, “I believed the baby was mine.”

“Even after all these years, finding out that he isn't has to hurt.”

“It does.” He nodded grimly as he propelled the swing. “I wanted Jonah to be my son. And I hoped to be a dad he could look up to.”

“He'd have been lucky to have you.”

“He'll be lucky to have Brett too. If Meghan gives him a chance.”

Shelby huffed. “I'm not so sure about that.”

“Before today, I wouldn't have been either. But spending time with you changed something in him.”

“Me?”

“You.” AJ let go of her hand and slipped his arm comfortably across her shoulders. Her earlier resolve forgotten, she scooted next to him, resting her head in the curve of his neck right where she belonged. Sitting beside him in the swing, rocking gently back and forth, she listened as he told her about Meghan's no-visiting policy and Brett's news flash about the blood types.

“We went to lunch at this little wings place downtown, and the whole time we were there, we didn't talk about Meghan.” He grinned and stroked her arm. “Or you.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Nothing really. College football. The Bucks.”

“Naturally. What else?”

“We reminisced a little about when we were kids. Before things started going wrong with our parents. Then I told him about my students, and he told me about his development projects. You know, it takes vision to run a company like that, and Brett's a smart guy. He's good at what he does. Really good.”

“You aren't angry with him?”

“I was.” He shifted to face her. “I still want to help Jonah any way I can. But I can't change what happened in the past. Or let it ruin my life now.”

He cradled her face, and her breath caught as his enticing lips drew her closer. “I'm more interested in the future.”

She touched his jaw, her fingers brushing against the stubble, and tilted toward him. His mouth barely skimmed her lips, and her hand slipped behind his neck.

“Mommy, see what I made.”

Shelby jerked as Tabby ran onto the porch, swinging her decorated pail, Elizabeth and Jillian right behind her.

“Oops,” Jillian said, flashing a grin. “Guess we interrupted something.”

Tabby climbed onto Shelby's lap. “Isn't it pretty?”

“Beautiful, honey. Did you paint these stars?”

“All by myself. See?”

“You did a great job.” Shelby smiled at AJ. “Can you stick around for a while? We have a lot to do to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I'll stick around as long as you let me.”

She hid her impulsive smile behind Tabby's hair then let it fade. AJ's heart might be free, but a romance only complicated things for her. She loved this farm and the happy memories it evoked. She loved the new memories she and her girls had made in the short time they'd lived here.

But what if they couldn't stay?

If it was God's will to leave it all behind, then that's what she had to do. No matter how difficult it was or how much it hurt.

AJ had dreamed of moments like this one. A hot summer day scented by gusting breezes. The pleasant contentment of believing, for just a little while, all was right with the world. He wouldn't trade this moment for anything—not even Buckeye national championship tickets.

His arm rested across the back of the gently moving swing. Beside him, her shoulder against his chest, Shelby held Tabby on her lap. Elizabeth, sitting cross-legged, relaxed on the floor with her arm across Lila's neck. Even Jillian, propped against the rail and furiously texting, added her own youthful glow to the day's radiance.

This was the life he wanted, the life he prayed God would give him.

Jillian looked up from her phone. “Seth can bring over a couple of picnic tables from his house if you'd like.”

“That'd be wonderful,” Shelby said, “if it's not too much trouble. I was trying to figure out how to make mine longer before tomorrow.”

“You can do that?” Tabby asked, her voice full of wonder.

“No, I can't.” Shelby gave her a squeeze. “That's why Seth is bringing his.”

“He said they're already loaded on the truck,” Jillian said. “He'll be here in five minutes. I told him Coach was here to help unload.”

With that announcement, the peace of this particular moment ended, but not its contentment.

AJ stopped the swing and retrieved the staple gun and bunting from the floor. “Guess I better get this finished before Seth gets here.”

“Can I help?” Elizabeth asked.

“Sure. Hold the fabric tight against the wood like this, okay?” He placed her delicate fingers on the material and stapled it. “Perfect. Now here.”

Shelby moved Tabby from her lap to the swing and headed down the steps. “I'm going to the oval to decide where to put the tables.”

“I'll go with you.” Jillian pocketed her phone, and Tabby clasped her hand.

“Me too.”

“Race ya.” Jillian chased Tabby around the corner of the house
while Shelby meandered after them. Before rounding the edge of the porch, she glanced at AJ, and her captivating lips curved into a sweet but slightly embarrassed smile.

“Wait a minute.” AJ stapled another section of the cloth, then strode to that part of the rail.

She stepped to the edge of the flower bed. “What is it?”

“You're beautiful,” he whispered so Elizabeth wouldn't hear.

Shelby's smile broadened, and her cheeks flushed. “You're sweet.”

He started to turn away, then paused. “I forgot to tell you I talked to Dr. Kessler on my way here. You remember, the history professor I told you about. He's intrigued by your secret room. Would you mind if he came out to see it sometime?”

“What secret room?” Elizabeth's chameleon eyes grew round with curiosity as she joined him at the rail.

“The secret room that's a secret,” Shelby said, pretending to be stern.

“Sorry,” he mouthed over Elizabeth's head.