Falling in Love: A Secret Baby Romance (Rockford Falls Romance)

by Natasha L. Black

  “I hear Rach has a liquor license now,” Greg said, “can I get you a beer?”

  “I just want water, thanks,” she said, taking a chair between my brother and me.

  “How was work?” I asked.

  It had been a couple of days since we’d really talked, and I had missed her. I wanted to know what was going on. But I couldn’t make it too obvious to my brother, who loved to give me hell, that we hadn’t even been in the same room for three days. He’d tease me about the relationship being on the rocks and I’d get mad. No sense in that kind of drama. So I just asked her how work was and scooted my chair closer to hers, my arm on the back of her chair possessively.

  When her water came she took a sip.

  “Hard day?” I asked when she still hadn’t answered me.

  “Oh, no. It was fine,” she said absently. “Tell me all about Chicago. Show me a picture of your wife. Drew said she’s in real estate.”

  “Yeah, she’s fantastic at it. She got an award from some big realtor’s association last fall, a nationwide group. Katie’s right there.”

  “But she’s so pretty. How’d you get her?” she teased.

  “Alcohol, obviously,” he deadpanned and then laughed.

  She and Greg had always gotten along and joked around. They’d been around each other a lot in the years we were together as teenagers. I wasn’t surprised that their silly rapport was much the same.

  “Do you want to get some onion rings? I know you love them here,” I offered. I knew I was trying too hard. I just wanted her to look at me, to joke with me. It was fun having her here, at least in theory. But I had asked her a question and she zoned out and ignored me, like she forgot I was even here. It felt humiliating.

  “Now, your brother here has been my knight in shining armor,” she said, her smile looking brittle, “when a storm trashed the library, Drew swooped in with big fans to dry the carpet and then he helped me go through stacks of damaged books sorting out the ones we could save and the ones we needed to replace.”

  “He must like you a lot then. Drew never was much for sitting still and looking at books.”

  “I read,” I protested.

  “About cars?” Greg said with an eye roll.

  “I like cars. There’s nothing wrong with reading up on innovations in auto repair,” I said defensively.

  “He usually read the Spark Notes in high school,” Michelle said to Greg conspiratorially, “or else I had already read whatever he had a test on or a paper to write about.”

  “You were a year behind him in school though,” Greg said, “you really were a brain if you were hanging around in your spare time reading Macbeth and crap.”

  “As a bookworm and librarian I object to your use of crap. None of Shakespeare is crap. Now, James Joyce? That’s another story. Completely overrated and the worst run on sentences ever. I’m not a violent person, but if someone had shot him while he was in the middle of writing Ulysses, it wouldn’t have been any great loss.”

  I laughed. “I never read that one,” I said, trying to get in on the conversation.

  “Nobody else has either, really. I mean I did try. It was just really boring and didn’t make much sense. I’m pretty sure the people who claim to love it are just lying to sound smart.”

  “What about the romance books. Are the new ones moving?”

  “Libraries aren’t like a car showroom—I’m not trying to get them moving,” she said. “But they’ve gotten checked out and that was after I read all of the ones you sent. I’m always happy to beef up my favorite section, romance. “

  “You read that stuff?” Greg said.

  “Yeah, I do. Why? You looking for a recommendation? Historical or contemporary? There are some really urban fantasy authors I could show you.” She said it so smoothly, so he couldn’t act like a sexist ass about romance novels, her favorite kind of book.

  “I was just gonna say, Katie loves those. She reads a ton of romance on her phone. I swear it’s like the same shirtless guy on every cover, black and white picture and the title in neon writing.”

  “They may look alike, but I swear, there’s as many different kinds of romance novels as there are ways to fall in love. You’d be impressed if you ever read one.”

  “What about you, bro? She got you reading romance books?” Greg asked.

  “Not yet, but I wouldn’t turn her down,” I said. “What would you recommend?”

  “Did you watch Bridgerton on Netflix?”

  “No. What’s that?”

  “Okay, so not a gateway to Julia Quinn. What about Virgin River?”

  “The guys at the shop talked about it, but I didn’t check it out. Why?”

  “It’s based on a book series, too. What about… what do you usually read?”

  “About cars,” I said sheepishly.

  “Okay, there are some good romances set around NASCAR or Formula One racing that I have at the library. We can start you off there.”

  “Or I could start with your favorite,” I said with a grin.

  “I don’t have a favorite. I have like twenty favorites. It depends on what mood I’m in. Mariana Zapata does amazing sports romances. Do you like soccer? There are football ones as well.”

  “Start me off on football, if it’s one you love.”

  “I’ll send you a reading list. You can download the library app and read on your phone.”

  “I want to hold the book and read it. Hardback preferably.”

  “I knew you were a hands-on guy,” she said, with a half smile. It was the first remotely flirty thing she’d said to me, so I was pretty damn glad she was warming up. Something was bothering her. I couldn’t exactly demand that she tell me, especially in front of Greg. So I’d take the book recommendations and the flirting.

  “Always have been, babe,” I said. “I missed you this week. What do you feel like eating? Want to swap your water for a Diet Coke?”

  “Water’s fine. I’m not very hungry.”

  “Okay. If you change your mind, let me know.”

  “I will. Right now I want to hear all about Chicago and what you’ve been up to. It’s been forever,” she said, turning back to Greg.

  “It’s been about three years more than forever,” Greg said. “It’s great there. The only thing missing is this guy and my parents.”

  “And Rachel’s pie,” I pointed out.

  “Okay, I do miss the pie,” he admitted.

  “They don’t have pie in Chicago?” Michelle teased.

  “Not like this they don’t. They have tons of great places to eat, but I haven’t run across any pie that rivals Rachel’s. She should sell it online. I would buy it.”

  “You should tell her that. Although I think she’s got her hands full with the diner and two kids.”

  “And Max,” I pointed out, “love the guy, but he’s not my idea of a fun roommate.”

  “So you’ve imagined living with Max?” Greg joked. “Do you fantasize about moving in with all your friends?”

  “No just the hot ones,” I laughed. “Look at your face. He thinks I’m serious. I just meant Max is kind of moody, not as much as before he and Rachel got together, but I think he’d be—"

  “A handful?” Greg laughed.

  “Okay, you two are children,” Michelle rolled her eyes.

  “Okay, fine, I was just giving you shit, bro. I know for a fact the only person he’s pictured himself with is you, Michelle. Fact is, I’ve never been so relieved in my life as I was the day Drew said he finally told you the truth. He was a mess when he broke up with you. He got sick. He had made me promise not to let him go beg you to take him back. I swore I would keep him from it. And I damn near had to knock him out to keep him away from you. He won’t ever tell you how bad it was, but I will. I’m his big brother and it’s my job to embarrass him. For over a year after that, I didn’t date anyone more than twice, and the reason was, I hadn’t been in love, but I watched it damn near kill Drew to give you up. I didn’t think I coul
d handle that.”

  “I didn’t do too well myself. I cried a lot, wrote emails to him and then deleted them. I thought I wanted an explanation on why he stopped loving me.”

  “I shouldn’t have said that. I had to make up a reason, when there wasn’t any reason that made sense. That should’ve told me it was the wrong thing to do,” I said. “I hate that you cried over me. That I hurt you like that.”

  “He went through hell, and he dragged me right with him for part of it. The only thing I’ve ever seen like it, like that kind of deep grief, is when Katie’s dad died last year. It was like watching her ripped in two, and I knew better how to help her because I went through that with Drew.”

  “What would you have done if I’d asked you why? If I went up to you on the street somewhere that summer and made you tell me?” she said.

  “I would’ve lost my shit. Probably would’ve busted out crying and apologized. I was still convinced it was for your own good.”

  “I’m sorry my dad treated you the way he did, and that I didn’t do more to stop it. I thought you knew that you were more than good enough for me. I took it for granted that you understood how I was thinking. We were so young, and we made mistakes. And we can’t take those back. I went over that night a million times, what I could’ve said different to get you to stay with me. There’s no sense in that,” she said. It touched me that she wanted to share the blame, that she had obsessed over that night as much as I had.

  “I feel like the luckiest man in the world,” I said to her, leaning in and kissing her forehead, “to have you back again. If I could pause my life the way it is now, it would all be perfect forever.”

  “I don’t think the pause button works in real life, brother,” Greg said.

  “I feel lucky, too,” Michelle said softly, leaning her head on my shoulder, “even though you apparently wish you lived with Max.”

  “Now who’s being a child?” Greg said and we laughed. I kissed her hair and hugged her to me.

  “Hey, you’re talking to the best thing that ever happened to me. Don’t scare her off,” I said.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t believe a word he says. Man thinks they don’t make pie in Chicago… how smart can he be?” Michelle said.

  “I know they make it, I just said it’s not this good,” he argued.

  “You know you can Google ‘pie near me’ and it’ll tell you where to find it…” she laughed.

  “Shhh…you’re scaring him. He and Katie are low carb.”

  “Oh God, that must be awful!” she said, “why did that happen to you?”

  “It was a good idea for us both to get healthier. We eat at home a lot, fish tacos, chicken and vegetables—stuff like that. We have medical reasons.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “Katie and I want a baby. The doctor suggested we should both cut the processed food and trans fats out of our diet, to improve our chances,” he said, “we haven’t had any luck so far.”

  “Well, I hope you have better luck going forward,” she said, her voice sounding strange.

  “Remember when Drew stole my bike to go see you?” Greg changed the subject.

  “Hey, I wrecked my bike. You told me I couldn’t use yours. Even though you had a car,” I accused.

  “Doesn’t mean I wanted you wrecking mine,” Greg said.

  “I had a date to keep.”

  “I bet you were sorry you took it though,” Greg chuckled.

  “Was that when your dad tracked us down and yelled and made you leave?” Michelle said, “I always thought he was mad you were seeing me.”

  “Oh please. They loved you. My mom especially. He was pissed he had to come out late at night to find me and ground me for taking the bike. If my brother wasn’t such a damn tattletale we could’ve finished our picnic.”

  “Hey, that’ll teach you to steal my stuff,” Greg said.

  “Yeah, how would you have felt if I sent dad after you when you were with a girl?” I countered.

  “I didn’t have a girlfriend. I was bussing tables at the diner for gas money.”

  “So because you weren’t getting any you decided I shouldn’t either?”

  “Pretty much,” he laughed. Michelle cracked up.

  “So you sent your dad to cock block Drew over a bicycle?”

  “Hey, it was a ten speed!” Greg laughed.

  “Well that makes so much more sense now,” Michelle chuckled, “I thought your dad was pissed that we were sneaking around.”

  “Nah. They’re dying to have you over for dinner. My mom will probably make three desserts and ask if she can brush your hair. Poor woman always wanted a daughter.”

  “She used to do my hair in a braid crown. God I loved that woman,” Michelle said, her smile sweet.

  “I promise she’ll braid your hair if you sit still long enough. She asks about you a lot. She wanted me to tell you we got back together because she prayed a novena last winter that I would find a woman to love.”

  “Tell her that’s awesome. Although I’m not sure the Lord sent me to, like, hook up with you in my basement and stuff.”

  “God moves in mysterious ways,” I teased.

  “Do not say that in front of Mom. She will slap you in the head for being irreverent,” Greg warned.

  “I won’t. And I appreciate her prayers. They’ve probably been what kept me alive through all the stupid crap I’ve done.”

  “Like stealing bikes,” Michelle pointed out with a mischievous grin.

  She said she needed to go to the bathroom. As soon as she was gone, Greg turned to me.

  “Cheers, brother. This is what I always wanted for you. You two are so happy.” We clinked our beer bottles together.

  We chatted about how happy I was for a minute, and then she came back. She didn’t sit down. She looked kind of stricken, took a step back from the table.

  “I need to go. It was good seeing you again, Greg. Good night.” She left abruptly, before I could find out what was going on. I got up and tried to go after her.

  “Chel, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” I said.

  “I’m just not feeling well. I want to go home. Alone.”

  She walked out, and I let her go. It felt like a slap, how quickly the mood had changed, how she had taken off so fast without an explanation. Her cheeks had been flaming red, like she was embarrassed or furious or both. I wanted to trail after her and try to make her talk to me and comfort her. But I had learned to respect what she said. She wanted to go home alone, and I had to believe that and wait for her to be ready to tell me what was going on. That was hard, stepping back and letting her have space when she wanted it. All my instincts screamed at me to go after her. Instead I slumped back in my chair.

  “What happened?” Greg said.

  “I have no fuckin’ idea,” I said, shaking my head.

  “That seemed like it came out of nowhere. She was upset about something,” Greg observed.

  “I don’t know what. She was fine when she went to the bathroom, and she told me she didn’t feel well…”

  “Maybe she got her period and didn’t have anything with her,” Greg said. “Happened to Katie at our anniversary dinner once. We left this super swanky restaurant and lost our reservation so we could go buy tampons and ice cream at the drug store. It was still pretty great, if I’m honest. We sat around the apartment in our pajamas and ate ice cream and she kicked my ass at Monopoly.”

  “You’ve played Monopoly with her? And she stayed married to you? You were the worst with that game. No mercy.”

  “Maybe I’m less competitive when it’s my wife,” he said archly. “If you’re trying to get into her pants, don’t beat her at board games.”

  “You mean you cheat to let her win?”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m just giving you random brotherly wisdom. If your pride is so important you have to beat her at darts or pool or fuckin’ Candyland, you don’t have any business being married. You have
to care how she feels. So you need to figure out how Michelle’s feeling.”

  “She said she wanted to be alone.”

  “That’s not good news, bro,” he said.

  We hung around for another drink, and then I headed home, thinking I had no idea what the hell had gone wrong.

  25

  Michelle

  I considered hiding under the covers. I was lying in bed, scrolling social media when there was a loud knock at my door. I didn’t want to answer it. I figured it was Drew, and I didn’t want to see him or hear a damn word he had to say. Not after last night. But then Trixie rang my phone. Shit. I forgot I was meeting the girls at the farmer’s market and getting breakfast afterward. I was so preoccupied with what happened last night that it slipped my mind.

  “Hey,” I said, letting them in. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

  “It’s fine. We figured you were feeling crappy and sleeping in. I brought bagels,” Nic said.

  “Sit down and tell us what’s up,” Trixie said, opening a cream cheese pouch and squeezing it out on half a cinnamon raisin bagel.

  I grabbed a blueberry bagel, sniffed it cautiously, and when my stomach didn’t roil in a threatening way, I ventured to take a bite. It tasted okay, nice and chewy, not too strong or anything. I took another bite and then looked at Trixie with puppy dog eyes.

  “You want me to go to the fridge and get you a Diet Coke, right?” she groaned.

  “Pleeeease?” I wheedled. She laughed and got me a cold can of Diet Coke. I cracked it open and took a sip, “God, that’s good. Wait, can I have caffeine?”

  “A little is fine. Make sure you drink your water. If I couldn’t have had coffee, I wouldn’t have survived. My doctor said it wasn’t a big deal as long as it wasn’t all I drank.”

  “Thank you,” I said, sipping my fizzy drink and nibbling at the bagel gratefully, glad I wasn’t puking.

  “So what’s going on?” Nic said. “Since you’re not barfing.”

  “I went out last night with Drew and his brother. We were having a great time. It got heavy for a few minutes when Greg started telling me how sick Drew was with, like, grief when he broke up with me years ago. He said it was like when his wife’s dad died, it was that kind of grief. And it made me want to cry and kiss him, kiss Drew, I mean, not his brother.”