CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
A little after three, the sound of Mason’s cries woke Emma. She pushed against Aidan who was sprawled on top of her. “Wake up, Aidan.”
“Hmm?”
“Mason’s crying.”
He groaned and rolled off of her. As Emma threw on her robe, Mason let out a high pitched squeal. “Jesus, that kid has a set of lungs on him,” Aidan said before pulling a pillow over his head.
She hurried over to the Pack N Play. “Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” she murmured, picking Mason up. His wailing eased a little, but he still continued crying.
Aidan’s voice came muffled from under the pillow. “Em, would you mind taking him and the screaming somewhere else?”
Rage burned through Emma. How dare he treat her that way? Shifting Mason onto her shoulder, she used her free hand to smack Aidan’s naked back. Hard.
He flung back the pillow and glared up at her. “What the hell was that for?”
“Why are you being such an insensitive a*shole?”
“Because I’m overworked, jet-lagged, and just want to sleep,” he growled.
Emma shook her head. “Your behavior tonight is seriously giving me something to think about.”
Aidan rose up in the bed and rubbed his eyes. “What are you bitching about now?”
“Is this how it’s going to be with our baby? You only thinking of your own selfish needs, resenting the baby when it comes between us and sex, and most of all, making it seem like I’m a single parent when you’re in the same room with me?”
With a roll of his eyes, Aidan jerked off the sheet. “Fine. I’ll go fix his f*cking bottle. Will that make you happy?”
“Maybe,” she replied. Even though he stomped bare-assed out of the room, Emma grinned that her speech had affected him enough to react. Every little battle was a victory in her favor. She eased down in the glider, rubbing Mason’s back. “Hang on sweetheart. Uncle Aidan’s going to get your bottle.”
Her words had little effect on him, and by the time Aidan came back, he was red-faced, snorting with hungry anger, and flailing his arms and legs.
“Damn, Little Man, take a chill,” Aidan said, shoving the bottle at Emma.
“Thank you,” she said, with a smile. “Looks like temper tantrums run in the Fitzgerald family,” she mused, as Mason latched onto the bottle.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Aidan replied with a grin. He collapsed back onto the bed. “He obviously gets that from his father—the dickhead who knocked Megan up and ran off.”
“What a jerk. Who could even think of leaving an angel like Mason or a sweetheart like Megan,” Emma replied. She eased the glider to and fro as Mason sucked the milk down greedily. “You were hungry, weren’t you?” she asked, as she placed him on her shoulder and burped him.
Cradling him to her chest, she gave him his pacifier. After she began humming softly, she saw the calming effect it had on him. When she started singing softly, Mason’s eyes grew heavier and heavier. Then he was fast asleep.
When she stood up to put him back to bed, she did a double take at the sight of Aidan propped up on one elbow, staring at her. With only the light from the hallway, she couldn’t quite tell if it was lust or love that burned in his eyes.
“What?” she whispered, easing Mason down onto the mattress.
“I’ve never heard you sing before.”
“Oh that.” She ducked her head, trying to fight the embarrassment pricking her skin. She pulled the blanket over Mason.
“You’re really good.”
She jerked her gaze up to stare over at Aidan in surprise. “Seriously?”
“Like an angel.” He took her hand and pulled her back into the bed. “I mean, you told me you sang and all at church and at the bar, but I had no idea you were that good.”
“You’re just being nice.”
“And when have I ever done that?” Aidan mused, with a sly smile.
Emma giggled. “Okay, I guess you’re right about that one.”
His lips grazed along her collarbone before he glanced up at her. “I’m serious, Em. Your voice is absolutely amazing.”
“Thank you.” She pressed her lips to his. “Anytime you want me to sing you to sleep, I will.”
“I’d like that.”
Emma scooted closer to Aidan, burying her face in the crook of his arm. “I really hate you have to leave again.”
“So do I,” he murmured.
She fought with herself before asking the next question. “I know we agreed that we both wanted ‘more’, but did you ever figure out what that meant to you?”
His fingers, which had been rubbing lazy circles over her skin, froze on her shoulder blade. “Not exactly. Did you?”
Propping her chin on his chest, she brought her gaze to his. “I would hope it meant at the very least monogamy.”
“Of course it would.” He creased his brows at her. “You know I haven’t been with anyone else since I propositioned you that night at O’Malley’s.”
“I know. It’s just—”
“You’re afraid because of my past I might not be able to stay monogamous?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He sighed. “I can understand why you feel that way, Em. But I was serious when I told you I wanted to try for more with you. I can’t make any sweeping guarantees, but I at least want to try. I like you. I like spending time with you, even outside the bedroom.”
Emma knew that what Aidan was offering was huge for him. It felt like nothing to her, but after all, she wasn’t a commitment phobic womanizer. The fact he hadn’t gone on some exotic sex tour of India or hooked up with someone in the Delhi office meant he was honestly trying. She stared into his eyes. “I can accept that.”
“And I would assume you aren’t on the look-out either, right?”
Emma couldn’t help the contemptuous snort that escaped her lips. “Do you even have to ask? Besides, the last time I checked being pregnant didn’t put you on Maxim’s Hot 100 list.”
He rolled his eyes. “There you go putting yourself down again about your sex appeal. You always so oblivious to the effect you have on other men.”
“Yeah right.”
“You didn’t even realize the night I got in from India and met you at O’Malley’s, I almost got in a bar fight with all the men who were ogling you.”
“Seriously?” Emma asked.
“How can I get it through your head how f*cking sexy you are?”
She pointed at her expanding bump. “This is sexy to you?”
“I could care less if you have a belly or not, Em. You are the one who makes yourself sexy, not a body. It’s not even the way you looked in that luscious lingerie you had on earlier. It’s the way you swayed your hips and shook your ass in front of me, knowing it would drive me insane, or the way you sucked me off with total abandon.”
Heat filled Emma’s cheeks at his words while warmth pulsed through her veins at the sincerity in which he spoke them. “So you’re still going to be rampant for me when I’m nine months pregnant, maybe thirty pounds overweight, and swollen up like a Goodyear blimp?”
Aidan chuckled. “Yes, I will.”
“Hmm, we’ll see about that one.”
Just as Emma was settling down to go to sleep, Aidan asked, “So our definition of more is merely not dating anyone else?”
“I think that’s a pretty good start. Don’t you?” Even though she wanted everything and more with Aidan, she didn’t want to scare him off. She thought it best to continue with relationship baby-steps and work her way up to the really big ones like moving in together or dare she even hope and dream, marriage.
“I suppose so. I mean, we’re already spending all our time together. No need to work on that.”
“I agree.”
“So we’re good with our ‘more’?” Aidan asked.
Even though she wanted to cry, scream, and rail that she hated their definition of more, she merely smiled. “Yeah, we’re good.”