Falling Hard: The Blackhawk Boys, Book 4

by Lexi Ryan

  “I wouldn’t have blamed you.” I close my eyes, guilt lashing through me as I realize my accusations were a kind of blame. “I wish I’d known the truth.”

  “You wouldn’t have blamed me. I knew that, and I couldn’t bear the thought of it. Because what if I told you and you reacted as I thought you would and blamed him completely? What if you believed in me but it turned out he was right and it was partially my fault? I pushed you away because I wasn’t prepared to believe that I deserved to be forgiven. I pushed you away because I hated myself so much after that night that it felt deceptive and ugly to let you love me, with or without the truth. I had to let you think the worst because inside I believed the worst.”

  I slide off the stool and take her hands to guide her to the floor to stand in front of me. I cup her face in my hands and look her in the eye. “I would have done anything for you. I would have loved you until you forgave yourself. I would have reminded you that I believed you until you believed it was never your fault.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Emma

  Early morning sun slants into the room between the drapes as Keegan climbs into bed with me and pulls me into his arms. He’s freshly showered and fully clothed in jeans and a polo shirt, while I’m in nothing but one of his soft, well-worn T-shirts.

  “Hey there, early bird,” I whisper. “Let me guess, you already worked out, had a healthy, made-from-scratch breakfast, showered, and conquered a small country while I slept in?”

  He leans his forehead against mine and grins. “You forgot the part where I rescued damsels in distress.”

  I hum, fighting my eyes to open. “Right. I always forget that part because you make it look so easy. How many damsels did you rescue this morning?”

  He skims his thumb over my bottom lip. “There was only one I was interested in rescuing, and it turned out she’d already rescued herself.”

  I catch his thumb between my teeth and bite down lightly before releasing it. “I remember it differently. Did you ever consider you saved her by just being there?”

  He groans as he snakes a hand up my shirt and cups my breast. His thumb, wet from my mouth, skims across my nipple.

  Last night after I spilled my guts to Keegan, he drew me a bath with bubbles and lit candles and insisted that I take a long soak. When I told him I didn’t want to be alone, he stripped out of his clothes and climbed in behind me. From the tub to the bed, the night was all gentle touches and reassurances. It was Keegan holding me until I fell asleep and his hands in my hair when I woke him up with my mouth in the middle of the night.

  “I have to go do the groomsman thing,” he says now, his hand still up my shirt. “Keep the door locked, and if you see any sign of Harry, call the police. We’ll go tomorrow and get a protective order filed.”

  I nod. We talked about the protective order last night, and I agreed it was past due. “I don’t think he’s coming back. His face means everything to him, and if you see him again, you might ruin it permanently.”

  “I’d at least like the opportunity to try,” he mutters.

  “Everything will be fine, and I’ll meet you at the wedding.”

  “You remember how to get there?”

  “That’s what GPS is for,” I say, smiling.

  He rolls me over, and I part my legs so he can settle between them. He props himself up on his elbows as he looks down at me. “He said something last night…” He swallows and searches my face. “About you being the only reason I got to play in the NFL. Is that true?”

  My chest feels tight. He doesn’t look angry or hurt, but tender. “The Gators are owned by good family friends of the Dellacontes. When their defensive end got hurt, I knew they were going to have to put someone new on their roster.”

  He shakes his head in wonder. “You hadn’t talked to me in four years. Do you know getting me on the team completely changed my life? Changed Jazzy’s?”

  “All I did was make a phone call.” I slide my fingers through his hair. “I asked them to watch your tapes. I put you on their radar. Everything else was you.”

  “No one has ever done anything like that for me. Thank you.” He dips his head and skims his lips over mine. “I love you, Emma Rothschild.”

  My breath catches at his words. “Yeah?”

  “Fuck yes.” He shakes his head as he studies my face. “So much that it scares me.”

  “I love you too.”

  His nostrils flare and he lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me in a long, searching sweep of lips and tongue. “I can never pay you back for something that big, but tell me how I can try.”

  I slide a hand up his shirt and run my nails down his back. “I have a couple ideas.” I arch my hips off the bed and scrape my nails along the edge of his waistband.

  “You’re going to make me late,” he says, circling his hips against mine.

  “Then you’d better be quick about it,” I whisper, unbuttoning his jeans.

  * * *

  I’m in the kitchen when I hear the front door open. My whole body tenses as I force myself to turn, and even though I know the door was locked and know it’s illogical, I expect to see Harry there.

  I breathe easier when I see it’s just Olivia.

  “Thank God you’re here,” she says. “Everyone’s busy and I have an appointment at the spa.” She sighs heavily and reaches her arms out as if she’s trying to hand the baby to me.

  “I’m sorry. What?”

  “Take her, I have to go!”

  I look around. Surely this woman isn’t trying to hand her baby off to me, a virtual stranger, so she can go to the spa?

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh my God! If you’re going to date him, this is part of the deal. He’s a dad. He has a little girl. I need you to take her because I have to go. Tell him I’ll come get her at the reception.” She shoves the baby against my chest, tosses a bag to the floor, then turns around and rushes out the door.

  I can only race after her, and I don’t find my voice until she’s climbing into her car. “Wait! Keegan’s not here!” When that doesn’t slow her down, I frantically add, “I burn eggs!”

  But she must not understand that the eggs are a metaphor for just how unfit I am to take care of her baby, because she just waves and repeats, “I’ll meet you at the reception!” She starts the car, and the engine turns over with a grumble before she backs out of the drive.

  The chubby-cheeked baby grins at me, showing four of what are probably the cutest damn teeth this world has ever seen, then she grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks.

  “Hi,” I whisper. I need to call Keegan. Except Keegan’s busy, and she’s right. If I want Keegan, Jazzy’s going to be in my life too.

  The baby buzzes her lips and makes a face. Under my hand, her diaper vibrates and then there’s a distinct…odor.

  “Oh boy.” I take a deep breath and take her into the nursery to change her diaper. I’ve done this with Becky’s baby. No reason this should be any different.

  Two hours later, I’ve called Keegan, updated him on the situation, and promised I have it under control. He answered my four hundred questions and told me where to find the extra car seat in the garage so I can bring her to the wedding. Since then, I’ve determined that Jasmine is the cutest baby in the history of the world and fallen in love with the happy girl. She’s full of smiles, and when I put her down for a nap, as Keegan suggested, she flips over to her belly and closes her eyes.

  “I’m pretty sure you’re more angel than child,” I whisper, smoothing her curls before I turn off the light and leave the room. As I dress for Arrow and Mia’s wedding, I’m smiling, high on my pseudo-parenting skills and baby snuggles.

  * * *

  Emma

  Five years ago…

  The sand is soft under my thighs, and the sound of the water makes me breathe easy. It’s not the beach I’m used to, and the voices around me chatter in French, but it’s still the ocean and it calms me. I let the waves roll in to touch my toes when a man s
its next to me, right next to me. As if I invited him there. As if we know each other.

  He looks out at the water, silent, contemplative, as if he didn’t just invade a stranger’s space. I open my mouth to say something, then decide against it and stand.

  “I wouldn’t go yet if I were you.” His English has just a hint of a Southern accent.

  “I don’t know you.” My voice trembles on the words, because there’s something about this man. Something about the way he holds himself and the lift of his chin and the smile starting to curl his lips that makes me feel unsafe.

  “You’re in love with my son,” he says. “Why shouldn’t I be here?”

  I blink at him, unsure if I should believe him and unwilling to give him any information if he’s lying. “Who’s your son?”

  His slick smile turns to a Cheshire grin. “Funny you wouldn’t know which man I’m referring to. That kind of proves my point.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I turn and walk away, only stopping when he speaks again.

  “Keegan’s my boy. You’ve been seeing him this summer, haven’t you? Until you brushed him off like so much lint.”

  I close my eyes and tell myself to relax, but my chest aches at the mention of Keegan’s name. I miss him so much, but even after a week in France and away from my problems at home, I know I did what I needed to do when I wrote him that letter. I force myself to turn and wrap my arms around my chest. “It’s nice to meet you,” I say, but my voice betrays me, and we both know I’m lying.

  I don’t like this at all. I don’t like the way he approached me, or the fact that he tracked me down here, or the condescending “I have something on you” tone in his voice.

  “You know,” he says, “most fathers would be glad to see their son shack up with a rich celebrity. I mean, if he stayed with you, he’d pretty much have it made, wouldn’t he? But I’m not most fathers, and my son has no idea what he’s gotten himself into with you.”

  Goosebumps break out all over my hot skin. It’s like when you have a fever that makes you hot and cold all at once.

  “I told him he was being played,” he says. “I told him he was wrong about you, but the fool was blinded by love, and then it turned out I was right and you were a liar.”

  “I’ve never lied to him.”

  “A lie by omission is still a lie, sweetheart.”

  I swallow hard and look away, determined to bite my tongue and not give anything away to this man I don’t trust. Maybe I don’t have a reason for that, but down to my bones, I can’t trust him. “What do you want from me?”

  “I’m just looking out for my boy. I haven’t been the best father, but I want to give him a shot at a better life—a life that he can be proud of. Something real.”

  “I want what’s best for Keegan.”

  He nods. “Good. Then we can agree on what you need to do for him next.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Keegan

  Arrow and Mia’s wedding ceremony is on the lake on his father’s property just outside of Blackhawk Valley. Doing a ceremony outside this time of year, they risked thunderstorms, humidity, and high temps. But somehow they ended up getting a wedding day that’s seventy-five degrees and partly cloudy.

  Whoever they hired to make this place ready for a wedding did a great job. There’s a flower-covered arbor in front of the lake, and white chairs fill the lawn beyond.

  I keep looking at Emma, thinking this must be weird for her. Here she is, only a week out from her would-be wedding, and she’s watching another couple get married.

  As promised, the ceremony is short and sweet, but includes the bride and groom speaking vows they wrote themselves. My throat goes thick as I watch them, knowing what they had to fight through to get here and the ugly secrets they had to overcome to find their way to this moment. Is it too much to want that for myself too?

  My eyes lock on Emma, where she sits holding Jazzy in the front row. She’s so beautiful. Today she’s here as Emma Rothschild and isn’t making any attempt to hide her identity with a wig or ball cap. She’s in a peach dress that came in the box of belongings Becky sent for her. Her hair is down around her shoulders, the wispy curls flying around her face in the breeze.

  Arrow and Mia are pronounced husband and wife, and he kisses her long and hard before they walk down the aisle and lead the rest of us to the reception tent.

  I’ve looked forward to this wedding most of the year just because it meant I got to see my friends. Chances are we won’t get to be together like this until the next one of us gets married, but tonight, despite all those months of anticipation about having my college friends in one place, I just want to be close to Emma.

  When she called me earlier to let me know that Liv dropped Jazzy off, I offered to come get her, but she promised me she had it handled, and from all appearances, she’s a pro. Watching her hold my baby girl does something to me. It’s a sight that makes me have hopes for the future. It makes me want this to be just the beginning.

  * * *

  Emma

  The ceremony was beautiful, and the reception is just as breathtaking. The tent is bustling with servers circulating with trays of hors d’oeuvres and drinks. As we wait for the bride and groom to finish pictures, the band plays softly in the background.

  Keegan’s whole crew is here, and Olivia is supposed to join us for the reception, but Jazzy and I are getting along just fine, thankyouverymuch.

  Seeing Arrow and Mia get married today made me that much more confident that I did the right thing by walking away from my wedding. These two love each other so much that it just feels good to see them be together. This is what marriage should be. Two people who aren’t just friends or just lovers, but who are both and who will fight for each other.

  I don’t know what my future holds. Before last night, my secrets were so weighed down by shame and guilt, I didn’t think I’d ever be strong enough to drag them from the darkness to the light. Maybe Keegan’s secrets aren’t so different, but the lies have put a pin of doubt in our relationship that I’m ready to be rid of. Tonight, after the reception, we can talk. He’s already admitted he lied, but I’m ready for the explanation.

  “Nice reception,” someone says behind me.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say, turning toward Olivia’s voice.

  She reaches her arms out for Jazzy, but I just stare at her stupidly.

  “My baby?” she says, arching a brow. She’s wearing a sapphire necklace.

  She clears her throat. “Are you okay?”

  “Where’d you get that necklace?”

  “From Keegan,” she says. She tilts her head to the side and brushes my grandmother’s stone with her fingertips. “It’s simple, but I think that’s what makes it so pretty.”

  Keegan. Keegan, who fed me so many lies the summer we met. Keegan, who told me his mother was dead and that he lived in Blackhawk Valley as a child. Keegan, who once warned me that a guy like him could take anything he wanted from someone like me.

  But of all the things he could have taken, to take my grandmother’s necklace just seems cruel.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Olivia says, taking Jazzy from my arms. “Why don’t you go sit down for a while?”

  “That’s my necklace,” I blurt.

  Her cheeks turn red and she reaches to get it off with one hand while holding Jazzy in the other. “Oh my God, that’s so embarrassing. I had no idea.” She shakes her head and exhales a long breath. “Not that I should be surprised. I mean, he got everything else from you, am I right?”

  I swallow hard and stare at the white gold chain and blue stone, and she deposits it in my hand. “What do you mean?”

  She laughs. “Come on, I’m not new around here. I talked to Keegan’s dad. I know you worked it out so you’d pay for his college. Lucky him. The rest of us had to take out loans.”

  “That was my decision to make,” I whisper. Why did she have my grandmother’s necklace? “It
was something I wanted to do for him.”

  “Yeah, right. As if that wasn’t exactly what he was after when he hired that guy to follow you with the camera.”

  The hair stands up on the back of my neck. “Excuse me?”

  “Remember, you two first met because some creepy man kept taking pictures of you and this sweet guy swept in to save the day?” She wiggles her brows. “His dad told me the whole story, how Keegan set it all up to look like he was a hero, and you fell, hook, line, and sinker. He had the whole story about needing money for school, and he got it.”

  I blink at her as suddenly the memory falls into place—the day on the beach, the day in front of the ice cream store, the man with the camera. No. It was a coincidence that Keegan was there. He was working in Laguna. He never asked for money. His dad did, but Keegan didn’t know about that.

  “His dad said Keegan knew how to spot an easy mark,” she says. She bounces the baby in her arms as she cocks her head to the side. “You were lonely. You were insecure. All you needed was a good-looking guy paying you some attention, and he had you eating out of his hand. He picked you, too. It wasn’t his dad’s idea that time. After he spotted you walking your dog one day, he started watching your schedule, getting to know your habits. He could read you and see how lonely you were.”

  I want to scream at her, to slap her and ask how dare she tell such terrible lies. But my stomach is sick because I already know she’s telling me the truth. Keegan’s carefully crafted stories that he never bothered to tell me were complete works of fiction. I had to figure out on my own which pieces were lies, and I still don’t know if there are parts of him I believe to be true that aren’t.

  When someone has stolen your heart while lying to you, how can you trust yourself to sort the truth from the fiction?