by Virna DePaul
But it would be fun to still do it. To find places to hide and make out for a while. Where would they do it tonight? The pantry? The deep freeze—cold, but he could keep her warm. Out in back of the pub, in the shadows? It didn’t matter, as long as she could touch him.
Then Erica walked through the back door, straight into a wall of discomfort. The tension was so thick, she could hardly move.
Brady and Quinn stood behind the line in the kitchen, deep in conversation. She couldn’t make out their words, but their body language told her something was up. There was a lot of anxiety, too, just in the pitch of their voices. Their faces were lined with concern. Immediately, her mind went to the worst case scenario.
“Did something bad happen? Is Riley okay?”
Quinn turned to her with a serious expression. “He’s fine, Erica.” His face told a different story, as did Brady’s. They both looked stunned, and years older than they had when she and Riley had left the day before.
She didn’t want to press the issue, and it was clear she wasn’t getting any answers, so she left the kitchen after punching in and went to the bar. Sean was there, stacking glasses.
“Good evening to my favorite O’Neill twin!” She grinned, patting his shoulder before tying on her apron.
He didn’t smile—in fact, it looked as though he winced. He wouldn’t meet her eyes, she noticed.
“Hey, Erica.” He finished with the glasses and picked up the rack. “Riley’s in the back office. He’s waiting for you.”
He said it with all the doom and gloom of an executioner as he headed to the kitchen, but she touched his arm, causing him to stop and put the glasses down. Her stomach was in knots.
“What’s wrong, Sean?”
“You need to talk to Riley, Erica.”
Oh God, she thought. They were going to fire her. Because of what had happened yesterday. Or else Riley was going to break up with her. He’d decided he didn’t love her, after all. And that’s why they were going to fire her. Because he wanted her gone.
She couldn’t help it. She’d been so happy and now, Riley was waiting to talk to her and his brothers were troubled and were looking at her with pity in their eyes; she started to tear up.
She swiped at her tears, furious that she was crying in front of Sean when she didn’t even know what the hell was going on.
Sean paled, and his eyes rounded. “Oh no. Don’t cry, Erica. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He patted her shoulder, and she jerked away just as Brady walked out of the kitchen.
Instantly, he took in Sean’s miserable expression and her tears. “Shit, Sean. You told her about the baby?”
Her head swiveled in his direction, her eyes wide.
“Damn it, Brady. I hadn’t said anything to her about it.”
She looked at Sean, then at Brady again. “What baby? What are you talking about?”
Sean looked distraught. “Go into the office, Erica. Riley’s there waiting for you.”
“He—he’s having a baby? With another woman?” she whispered.
Of course it was with another woman. It certainly wasn’t with her.
“Erica.”
She whirled around and caught sight of Riley standing in the forefront of the hallway that led to the restrooms and the back office. She saw the answers to her questions on his face.
She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t think. All she could do was scream in her head. Everything was falling apart.
“Lucy,” she whispered. “You slept with Lucy when you were in Ireland.”
Mouth tight and grim, he nodded.
She shouldn’t feel betrayed. In some rational part of her mind, she knew that. They hadn’t been together then. And while he’d been gone, she’d been dating Rob. They hadn’t slept together, but they’d come damn close.
“Well then,” she said, not knowing what else to say. All she knew was she needed to get away from their pitying glances. She couldn’t think rationally. She wanted to yell at Riley. She wanted to hurl glasses and bottles at him.
No, he hadn’t betrayed her, and she had no right to be so angry with him.
But she was angry. Not so much at him as she was with Fate. She’d really started to believe that they could be happy together. That they might even have a shot at forever, just as Riley had said.
But things weren’t going to work out for them, after all.
“Erica, love,” Riley said, coming around the bar toward her.
“No!” she shouted.
He froze.
“I have to work,” she said. “Why don’t we talk about this later?”
He looked at her as if she was crazy. They all did, in fact.
“Go home with Riley. Talk things out. I can work your shift,” Sean spoke up.
She shook her head, still feeling numb. “I need to work.”
“You need to talk to me,” Riley said.
She shook her head again, and Riley frowned.
“So that’s it. You’re just going to ignore me? Just pretend this isn’t happening?”
“Oh, it’s happening. I understand it’s happening. But in the end, it really has nothing to do with me, now does it?”
She heard and saw him suck in a breath. Reaching out, he placed his hand against the bar, as if he would fall without that tenuous support. “Nothing to do with you?”
“No. You and Lucy and your baby. That’s what’s important here. You’re going to have to deal with all that, so you don’t have to worry about me.”
“What the feck? So that’s it, then? What’s next? You’re going to tell me congratulations? Maybe buy me a box of cigars?”
“Don’t, Riley. I’m just trying to say I understand you have a lot to deal with right now.”
She felt cold all of a sudden, and wrapped her arms around herself in self-protection.
“Sounds like what you’re saying is I have to deal with it alone.”
Her eyes widened at the anger edging into his voice. “Riley, you’re having a baby with another woman,” she reminded him.
“Yes, because of something that happened before we were together. Something that happened before we declared our love for each other. Something that’s showing me that maybe, at least on your end, that love wasn’t what I thought it was.”
“You’re wrong,” she said, her heart sinking. She was deflated, defeated. “I do love you, Riley. That’s why I’m going to give you the time and space you need to work this out. To figure out what you want.” To figure out if in the end, you’ll still want me, she thought. Because things were different now. Riley had told her himself he’d gone back to Lucy time and again. He’d thought that was over, but that was before they’d had a baby together.
He laughed harshly again. “You mean you want to figure out what you want. Because it seems like you don’t want me any longer. Not when I come with a baby. Run away then,” he said, waving a hand.
“Riley,” Quinn said, putting his hand on Riley’s shoulder.
Erica blinked. She’d forgotten they weren’t alone, but now as she scanned the room, she could see that Riley’s brothers had gathered around him. The others stood some distance away, as if they’d been giving them some semblance of privacy to talk, but Quinn now stood behind his little brother, clearly trying to offer his support. “You’re both upset,” Quinn said. “That’s to be expected. But don’t say things you’ll regret.”
“Too late for that,” Riley said. He pinned Erica with his glare before shrugging off Quinn’s touch. “Maybe it’s best this happened. Maybe I was supposed to go back to Ireland, go back to Lucy, all along.”
Erica’s stomach grew tighter with every word. She held her breath as she waited for Riley to land the killing blow. “I thought I had something for me here in Forestville, something to hold my heart and make me happy for the rest of my days. But I guess I was wrong.” He turned on his heel and walked away until disappeared around the corner, clearly headed toward the back office.
Erica stood behind the bar, shaking.
She covered her mouth with her hand, just in case the full magnitude of her grief managed to escape in anything from a whimper to a scream. She had to get out of here!
Yet she hesitated. Waiting for Riley to come back. Not really wanting to leave, feeling like there was so much left to say—there was so much in her heart, weighing on her like a ton of bricks. She wanted to tell Riley she still loved him. That she still wanted him. But she couldn’t bring herself to say any of it. Because he couldn’t know—he couldn’t know, once he held his child in his arms, how his feelings for that child’s mother might develop once more.
And where would that leave Erica?
Her heart was already breaking. If she let herself hope that Riley would choose her, if she stayed with him, and in the end he didn’t…
She shook her head.
“Erica…”
She felt Quinn’s touch on her arm now. They were all staring at her, their gazes heavy with pity, and she couldn’t stand it a moment longer. She could only pull away and run outside. Get in her car and drive away.
All the while leaving her heart in pieces behind her.
Chapter Twenty
Riley woke with the sun in his face, and winced as though it burned when he returned to consciousness. He rolled away from it, like a vampire, seeking out the shadows of the corner of his bed. Covering his aching head with a blanket, burying himself.
He could hardly think without his head throbbing. It would be best to sleep.
What time was it? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He wasn’t totally sure of what went on around him, but he knew that much. Nothing mattered but sleeping and avoiding…what? What was it? He felt strangely disconnected.
Then it all came back. Everything, from the moment he got the call from Lucy through the moment he’d strode back into the restaurant only to see Erica’s retreating figure. He’d almost gone after her, but he was afraid he’d say more things that he’d regret. Or that she might.
He understood her shock, but the way she’d seemed to immediately dismiss his importance to her had struck a mighty blow. He’d left her. Was heading back to the office. But then it had struck him—what she’d said hadn’t discounted his importance to her, but her importance to him.
What had she said?
She’d been trying to do the right thing. Give him time and distance to figure out what he wanted. Because she was afraid what he wanted might no longer be her.
Cursing, he’d headed back into the restaurant, determined to get through to her and make her understand a baby wasn’t going to change his feelings for Lucy or for her, but he’d been too late. She’d left.
He’d been devastated and had done what he’d managed not to do when Lucy had first called him. He’d started drinking. Then he’d drank some more.
The thought of the baby and everything it entailed made his stomach roil in panic, and he scrambled from his bed in a frantic beeline for the bathroom. He barely made it before his stomach expelled its contents in a violent manner. It was for the best, as it would help him avoid feeling even worse, but in the moment it was wretched and painful, his head pounding like a jackhammer as he gagged.
Minutes later, he washed his face and rinsed his mouth, then leaned on the sink to catch his breath. He’d tied one on before, many times. He was no stranger to heavy drink. This was the worst he’d ever felt, by far.
Catching his own eye in the mirror, he wondered who stared back at him. Who was that haunted old man? Just twenty-four hours earlier, he’d been young, brash, carefree. Looking forward to another night with the girl he thought he loved. He’d been daydreaming about her, planning to corner her in the dry storage room and feel her up while kissing her. He’d been thinking about the way she sighed and whimpered whenever he touched her firm, ripe body.
That would never happen again. He’d officially destroyed any chance they had together.
“Fuck,” he growled, staring at himself. What had he done? It wasn’t him. The words which had come from his mouth when she’d been reeling from shock hadn’t come from him. They’d come from a scared little boy, someone Riley hadn’t known was inside him until just then. The little boy who’d been unleashed at the news of becoming a father.
A father. His stomach turned again, though it was empty this time. Still, he gagged once, twice, his body heaving as he thought with horror on the prospect of being a father. He wasn’t cut out for that sort of thing. Anybody he knew would’ve said the same.
It was torture, not knowing what Lucy intended to do about the baby. Would she expect them to get married? Her parents certainly would. He pictured himself at the altar with Lucy, the muzzle of a shotgun pressed against his back. His soon-to-be father-in-law with one finger on the trigger.
He thought his heart might shred apart, and could only stumble back to his bed and collapse into it. The weight of his thoughts were too heavy to bear.
There was still the chance the child wasn’t his. He didn’t want to be a prat about it—so many men tried to slither out of the prospect of fatherhood using that same excuse—but he and Lucy hadn’t been exclusive when he’d been in America and he’d been gone for seven months. She hadn’t admitted taking other lovers, but she was a beautiful, fun-loving girl. He would never slut-shame her. He would only ask her to be honest at such a critical moment.
No, she’d never admit it. He’d have to get a blood test done, which would mean flying out and facing her parents’ wrath. She might not even agree to have it done.
It was a nice fantasy, imagining he wasn’t the baby’s father. Odds were, he was, and he knew it. He just didn’t want to accept it, grasping at any possible straws instead.
He let out an anguished groan, rolling over, wishing he could sleep and forget the whole thing. Sleep was elusive, thanks to the storm of conflicting thoughts and emotions rolling over him. A father. Fatherhood. Nappies and prams—wait, they didn’t call them that in the States. Then again, would he even live in the States anymore? Would Lucy expect him to move back to Ireland? No. No way could he give up what he’d worked to build. She’d have to move over, make a life in California. He couldn’t leave everything behind—the pub, the beauty of the countryside, the feeling of freedom and pride. It would be too much to ask, tantamount to putting him in a coffin and burying him in the ground.
A knock at the bedroom door. He froze, hoping whoever was on the other side might go away if he pretended to be asleep. Another knock. He closed his eyes, willing them to go away.
“Riley, it’s me. I know you’re awake—I heard you heaving your guts up. Quite a way to wake up, thanks very much.” Sean’s voice made him sound anything but grateful. “Come on, lad. Rise and shine.”
“Go away,” Riley replied, still under the blankets he’d pulled over his head when he heard his twin’s voice.
Sean didn’t go away. He opened the door, instead, and closed it behind him.
“You’ve had a nice wake for yourself,” he murmured, sitting at the edge of the bed.
“What?”
“I said, it’s a nice wake you’ve had. Celebrating the end of your life. Isn’t that it? What you did last night?”
“You don’t know shite about it, and I’d thank you to leave me alone.”
“You want the world to leave you alone. I get it. I’d want the same thing.”
“So why won’t you give it to me, then? If you understand so well? Why not leave me alone?”
“Because I can’t right now. I can’t let you go through this by yourself.”
Riley pushed back the blankets to face his brother. “Why not? I want to be alone.”
“No you don’t. You want to be with Erica. But since she’s not here right now, you’ll have to settle for me. Just don’t take a swing at me like you did Brady.”
That gave Riley pause. He searched his memory, coming up blank when he tried to remember the night before. Sean smiling knowingly.
“Aye, we weren’t thinking you’d be remembering your actions today. Yo
u got pretty plastered at the restaurant before we carried you back here, and then you proceeded to drink some more.”
“Did I actually hit Brady?”
“You missed him by a mile. You swung yourself around in a circle and fell on your arse.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, lad. You weren’t in your right mind. We all know it. You had quite a shock.”
“Putting it mildly,” Riley muttered.
“What are you gonna do about it, then?”
“I don’t really have the say, do I? I’m waiting on Lucy’s call. We’ll talk about it then.”
“That’s nice, but it’s not what I meant. How are you going to deal with it? You, yourself? Are you gonna stay in bed all the time, then? Maybe shut yourself up until the baby comes? Or act like a raving prat to whoever comes your way?”
Riley fixed his brother with a doleful gaze. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” he warned. “I mean it. You’ve never been in my shoes. You don’t know how it feels.”
“No, but I know how we feel. We want to be here for you, brother. You have to let us.”
“I know that,” he replied with a heavy sigh.
“You’ve gotta let her, too. Because she will want to be here for you. She just has to process things and let herself believe you’ll choose her.” Sean glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye. “You do know that’s what she fears most, don’t you? That you’ll choose Lucy and the baby over her?”
“It’s what I suspected. I should have just let her have her space. Or reassured her. Instead, I was such a fool.”
“Not surprising. You were dealing with the shock yourself. If she knows you, and cares for you the way I believe, she’ll realize that and you’ll work things out.”
