Chapter Thirteen
This was it.The Telford family ranch.The home his biological father had walked away from.Telford looked at the wood sign—practical, weathered, hanging down from rusted metal links from a log that sat aside two other large logs like a sentry.The road leading up was gravel, narrow, twisted, but looked decently maintained.
Ayana rolled down her window, leaned out, and took a couple of pictures with her phone.“Do you want to pose?”
“No.I’m already posing by being here.”
She settled back in her seat, closed the window, and rebuckled.She kept her phone in her palm.She had the cowgirl hat on and looked effortlessly sexy and stylish.He’d never been with a woman he’d wanted more, and she was frustratingly, emotionally off limits.
“You didn’t have to come,” she said carefully, “but I’m happy you accepted.I suspect that for people like you and me, we have to see it through.”
Like you and me.The phrase resonated when it shouldn’t.They’d known each other such a short time, but already he trusted her, though Cam would have warned him they couldn’t trust anyone but each other.The rule had been easy for Telford to live with then but not anymore.
How did she twist her way into his life and consciousness so easily?He thought about her all the time—not Cam, not Cam’s legacy—Ayana.And it wasn’t just sexual desire—they’d barely kissed.
Are we becoming friends?
He liked that idea.He’d lost everything after his mother had been brutally killed—until Cam.
“Do you want children?”The question startled him as much as her.
His foot jerked and slid off the brake, and the Jeep rolled back until he stomped on the brake again.Ayana flinched in her seat, pressing up against the door, as if to escape him.Her eyes went wide, and her hands crossed over her breasts.
“I meant… theoretically,” he tried a save that failed as he hadn’t meant to ask the question at all.Ever.“I guess seeing you with the teenagers today.You were so comfortable.I never saw myself having any, and I…” He was babbling, and whether she wanted kids or not, she’d be long gone before the subject came up.
Ayana was a sparkler.She lit up a room.She was warm and friendly and curious.She listened to people.Connected.She could go anywhere, do anything.
“Not with me, but in the future.”He tried to steer away from the awkwardness he’d created.
She was breathing a little funny and was pale, then she folded forward, pressed her face nearly against her thighs and inhaled a couple of times.
“Sorry,” he said helplessly, as he’d clearly struck a nerve he hadn’t known existed.
He was the mercurial challenge.Not her.
“I… no.It’s me,” she said straightening up and staring out the windshield.“I… I… I’m not… I don’t…”
“I shouldn’t have asked,” he said formally.“That’s a very private issue.We don’t have that kind of relationship now.”
Why had he qualified the timing?His verbal clumsiness wouldn’t improve.
“You took me by surprise.Babies weren’t part of our negotiation.”
“No.They weren’t.I apologize.”He sucked in a slow, deep breath, sure the Telfords had heard their approach.
They probably had a Ring.He would way out here.And loads of other security.
“Shall we still go or have I ruined the evening?”
She released a gusty sigh and turned in her seat and faced him.The last fingers of the sun touched her cheek, highlighting the hint of sparkle she dusted on each morning.
“I enjoy children.They have such bright, free spirits if treated kindly,” she said carefully.
He listened, his mind turning over her careful phrases.His blood heated.Someone had hurt her and badly.He could feel it.His fists clenched on the steering wheel, and he forced himself to relax.
“There’s things in my past I don’t talk about, Telford,” she said.“I may never talk about them.This is not a reflection on you.But I’m not sure I can have kids,” she said after a long pause.“If I felt it was safe to bring a child into the world.We briefly discussed why I didn’t want children.The time limit, the no-kids agreement is why I felt safe signing the contract.”
She was silent then.Her gaze troubled.“Are you… changing your mind?Do you want a child, like Cam wanted one?That doesn’t speak to impermanence.”
