Best Of My Love (Home to Green Valley Book 4) (17 page)

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. You 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.”

Riley covered his face with his arm. “I made such a total mess of everything. I fucked it all up.”

“You can make it better.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I do. Like I said, I saw her face. I’ve seen her face the past few weeks. She loves you.”

“And I love her. But this is huge stuff…”

“It’s messy. Life is messy. But you’ll work it out with Lucy. Decide how you’ll go forward. Then work it out with Erica, because she’s a good girl.”

“What if Lucy’s parents want us to get married? What then?” Riley removed his arm from over his eyes, looking at his brother with real fear.

Sean laughed. “We’re adults here, not horny sixteen-year-olds under our parents’ thumbs. Don’t worry about that. What will they do, kidnap you? Drag you kicking and screaming back to Ireland?”

Riley saw the sense in that. “Still. I want to do the right thing by her.”

“And you will. You’re a good man, though you try to hide it.”

“Thanks,” he said, sourly, then sat up. “Ach, my head.”

“I’ll get you some aspirin, yeah? And you’ll take a shower, and you’ll feel better. And you’ll work it out. Come on. A new day, as mam used to say.”

She did say that. Riley reflected on her with a smile as Sean left the room. What would she think if she were around? First, she’d beat the tar out of her son for being such an idiot—maybe she was looking down, taking delight in his hangover since she couldn’t be there physically to punish him. Then, she’d remind him it takes two to tango. She’d give him a little tough love, but she’d be behind him all the way. Just the way his brothers were.

Chapter Twenty-One

After a sleepless night, Erica accepted the truth. She couldn’t walk away with Riley out of fear that he might choose Lucy and the baby over her. He’d said he loved her, and she loved him. He needed her support right now, and while it was understandable she wanted to protect herself from the possibility of future heartbreak, she’d done him a great disservice by acting like he’d betrayed her somehow.

The question was, did she want to support him the way a friend would, or the way a woman who still wanted to pursue a relationship with him would? It was a conflict unlike anything she’d ever known. While she loved him, she didn’t know if she was ready to accept another woman’s baby into her life. A symbol of Riley’s relationship with Lucy. A baby who would undoubtedly bear a strong resemblance to the O’Neill clan, but with a touch of his or her mother, too.

She’d hadn’t pictured having a baby in her life—hers or anyone else’s—not for years and years. Being with a man who had a baby would be complicated. She had her whole life ahead of her, big plans she intended to see through. Plans that might have to change if a baby entered her life.

But when she thought of those plans…thought of graduating college and opening a winery someday…though of getting married and having children in the future…those plans all included Riley in her mind. No one else.

* * *

When Erica went to work later that day, it was with her mind resolved to talk things out with Riley and offer her support. She still wasn’t sure where the future would take them, but she’d finally decided that it wasn’t the present that mattered most. She loved Riley. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to support him through a difficult time. End of story.

Unfortunately, when she got to The Stylish Irish, it was to find that Riley had taken the day off. Maybe that was for the better, she thought. She could bury herself in work, even as she gave Riley more time to figure out what he wanted to do.

Thursdays were typically busy nights at the pub. Somewhere, at some point, Thursday had become Friday. Many people liked to go out and let loose, even the ones in sleepy towns like Sonoma. Granted, there wasn’t too much letting loose at The Stylish Irish—the boys had made sure of that when they first opened, enforcing their low-tolerance policy for rabble rousers. They were amiable, likeable guys, but only to a point. Once a customer got out of hand, they were asked to leave. If they were asked twice, they were also asked never to return. It was a hard-and-fast rule.

Still, while the regulars understood and admired this policy, there were some who didn’t. Newcomers, those passing through during a tour of wine country. It was Erica’s experience that many people on vacation, or even those only in town for a conference or some other business-related event, left their manners at home. They felt entitled to act like animals.

It was with that in mind that she smiled and suffered the little comments and come-ons by a group of young men at the pub that night. The three of them were in good spirits, joking and laughing a little too loudly. They were drinking, though, so it made sense—and at first, they were fairly respectful. She was used to customers eyeballing her, so it didn’t bother her much.

When they became a little more vocal in their admiration, however, the night took a turn. She overheard them making comments to each other about her boobs, her butt, laughing and jeering whenever she turned to the cooler to reach for a beer or bottle of chilled wine. It got to the point where she felt painfully self-conscious.

“You all right out here?” Brady happened to come out and observe one of the rounds of laughter when Erica bent over.

She forced a smile. “I’m fine. You know how it can get,” she said, shrugging.

He narrowed his eyes. “You sure? Just say the word, and they’re gone. You know how we feel about that.”

She smiled more genuinely. “I know. I appreciate it. It’s not a big deal. Besides, they’re running up a huge tab. I’m hoping for a good tip.” Really, she didn’t want to cause trouble—men like them rarely tipped, thinking their charm and the offer of a night on the town was enough to satisfy any bartender’s fantasy. It wasn’t her first time at the rodeo. She squared her shoulders and went back in, determined to conduct herself like a lady. Really, she wanted to bang their heads together.

“What are you doing after work tonight?” She wasn’t sure which one asked, and the bar was too busy to pay much attention. She only glanced in their direction with a distracted grin, shrugging before delivering a mixed drink to another customer.

Her reaction wasn’t good enough. “Hey, sweetie. My friend here wants your number.” The obvious alpha male of the group, bigger and burlier than the rest, with the loudest voice and the cockiest attitude. Erica only smiled again, before turning her attention to another customer. It didn’t go well.

“Hey. Hello! Over here. I said, my friend wants your number.”

Erica smiled at her new customer, then turned to the obnoxious ex-frat boy—at least, that’s what she called him in her head. “I heard you. It’s not my policy to give my number out to customers, though. Sorry. Thanks for the interest.” She turned back to the other customers, offering to get them another round of drinks.

“Stuck-up bitch.” The room seemed to go quiet, or maybe it was all in Erica’s head.

“Excuse me? I can bring my boss out, and the two of you can talk this over if you have a problem.”

“Listen to her.” He jerked his thumb in Erica’s direction, and his friends laughed. She wanted to rip every bit of hair from his head and shove it down his throat.

“Hey, dude. She said she wasn’t interested.” One of her regular customers, a middle-aged man named Corey who still used the word “dude.” Very California.

Frat boy advanced on Corey. “And who the fuck are you, telling me what to do?”

Erica ran out from behind the bar, panic setting in. The last thing they needed was a fight. She should have let Brady kick the troublemakers out when he first wanted to.

“Come on, guys. Let’s not fight about it. Go back to your drinks.” She shot Corey a look of thanks, then turned her attention to the frat boys. “Really. Come on. I don’t want to bring my boss out here. He doesn’t like fighting in his pub.”

“Oh, I’m so fucking scared.” The alpha frat boy laughed derisively.

“Have you seen him?” Brady could have made quick, easy work of all three of them. “Please. Sit. I’ll get you another round.” She turned, intent on going back to the bar to pour three drinks and hope it was enough for them.

Instead, Frat Boy took her by the waist, pulling her to him. His hands were immediately on her breasts. His friends laughed.

“Stop it!” Erica struggled to free herself.

Corey and two other customers made a move to help her…then a lot of things happened at once. A pair of hands ripped her from Frat Boy’s grip, and several voice cried out in surprise. Erica’s was one of them. She moved away from the fray, then turned back to find that it wasn’t Brady who’d helped her. It wasn’t Sean, or even Quinn.

“Why don’t you try feeling me up?” Riley snarled, reminding Erica of a pitbull just waiting to strike.

“Riley, I’m fine.”

He held up a hand, waving her back. “I’ll be asking you to leave now, you ossified plonker. You and your buddies.”

“And who are you?” Frat Boy looked him up and down. Riley was nobody to mess around with—while Frat Boy looked as though he worked out regularly, he didn’t have the large frame and massive hands Riley did.