Page 7 of Falling for You (Balsam Cliffs #2)

The way her ass sways in those skin tight jeans, is going to be the fucking death of me.

I have no one to blame but myself, I’m the idiot who came over here to talk to her when I saw her.

I’m the idiot who got too close, let myself remember what it feels like to hold her.

I’m the idiot who ended things as she so sweetly pointed out.

Bottom line, I’m just an idiot.

I head back to my booth to check in with Evelyn before going to the float to get in line for the parade.

I debate telling my sister about Emma, but I’m pretty sure all she’d do is point out what a dumbass I am for one, getting involved with Emma Keaton, and two, not manning up to tell Hunter before it got to this point.

“How’s it going?” I lean down to give Eve a kiss on the top of her head.

“Good. Everyone is loving the raspberry lemonade pale ale you made for the summer. And the kids love these little bottles of root beer and lemonade.” She smiles at the customer as she hands them a six-pack of my latest brew. “Oh, great,” she mutters under her breath looking out into the crowd.

I look out to see who is approaching and see my best friend walking over. I wish I knew why those two hate each other so much.

“Hey Evelyn, it’s uh … nice to see you,” he rubs the back of his neck, looking awkward as hell. “You ready, Rome? It’s almost time for me to kick your ass like I do every year.”

My gaze bounces between the two of them. “Yeah. You good, Eve?”

“Sure am. Never been better.” She smirks, her response obviously directed to Hunter instead of me.

When I look over at him, I see that his lips are pinched in a tight line. The hatred for my sister could be blowing smoke out his ears.

I follow behind Hunter as he leads the way through the crowded street over to the high school where we use their parking lot as a staging area.

“You know, I wish you two could get over whatever the fuck it is that makes you two hate each other.”

“She hates me, man. I don’t see that changing after all these years.”

“You know she won’t tell me why she hates you so much. Has she ever told you?” It’s a mystery I’ve never been able to get to the bottom of.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t elaborate and instead veers off to his float changing the subject. “You ready to lose?” He walks away from me laughing.

But I’m ready to beat his ass. Rebels float is pretty good this year and I think I might be able to beat the construction crew.

Clark is already at the float with some of the waitstaff.

We are closed until after the parade and festival, no one would come in anyway since the whole town is here.

They all wait for their coupon to be thrown off the float.

Something I personally feel should get me more points with the crowd than Hunter’s over the top floats.

I started throwing coupons a couple years ago. They range from 10% off to a free meal to your bill being totally comped. It raises a lot of money for our float, and in turn for the memorial foundation that we donate to each year. Just never seems to be enough to win.

I climb up on top of our float with my waitstaff and hand each of them a bag full of candy wrapped with coupons to toss out the sides to the crowd.

“Remember, don’t hit people in the heads or face, try your best to make it into their hands.” Clark starts up the truck and pulls into our spot in the parade line.

About halfway through the route, I spot Emma with Violet and Willow, and some other asshole who is leaning into her, making her laugh. The jealousy and anger courses through me, even though I dug my own grave with her, I want to be selfish.

I ignore my own warning to my staff and throw a handful of candy, aiming directly at this guy’s head.

I smile a genuine smile when I make contact with his cheek, and then smile even broader when it bounces off his cheek and down Emma’s shirt disappearing into her cleavage. Unfortunately it also makes the idiot’s eyes track to where she’s currently reaching in to pull out the piece of candy.

Well that fucking backfired. She pulls out the candy and glares right at me. At least I got her attention.

She unwraps the candy while maintaining eye contact with me, and another ding to me is the fact that it’s a lollipop.

She pops it in her mouth, sucking hard, and pulling it out with a pop.

Fuck, I miss that feeling of her lips around my cock.

This has to be my punishment for being such an idiot and not fighting for her.

Rebels is the busiest it’s ever been today. We haven’t had a lull since we opened this afternoon after the parade. The unseasonably warm weather and sun have people itching to come out and enjoy a few beers on our patio.

I’m busing off some of the tables outside to help my staff get caught up and get some breaks in.

I don’t ever let them get overworked just because it’s busy.

They get their breaks, and all the tips from the tables they missed while on break.

It’s one of the things that stops me from having a lot of turnover, especially during the busy seasons with tourists who think my staff have to bow down to their every whim.

My hostess brings a new party outside and it must be the large party I had to put tables together for.

But when I’m able to see who it is, that jealousy is back.

All the Keatons are here with their significant others, including Emma with that asshole from the parade.

How are her brothers allowing this? He’s way too fucking handsy for my liking.

“Hey guys, I’m glad you came in tonight,” I greet the group, locking eyes with Emma.

The vixen stares me right in the eyes as she leans over, taking this asshole’s face in her hands and kissing him. Averting her gaze only at the last possible second.

I scowl in her direction before turning my attention back to the rest of the crew.

Hunter’s eyes drift from Emma to me, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, giving me a questioning look.

I need to stop. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him questioning what he’s seeing.

But would it really be that bad? I mean, yeah sure, he’d definitely kick my ass and I’d let him because I deserve it, but would he really disown me? Would the rest of the Keatons?

I shake off the whole interaction and daydream, pulling out my notepad and choosing to ignore Hunter’s questioning gaze while I begin taking drink orders.

When I head back inside to grab their beers, Hunter follows me.

“What the fuck was that, man?” Hunter stops at the bar where I am grabbing glasses, the vein in his temple ticking.

“What was what?” I play dumb.

“You and my sister, jackass. Are you fucking my sister? Is she the one you were fucking talking about?” The flush of red anger creeps up his neck, making his jaw twitch in time with the vein.

“What? I’m definitely not fucking Ems.” Anymore.

I am going straight to hell for lying. Even though I’m not lying about this current time. This was the perfect opportunity to come clean and I dodged it.

He narrows his eyes, and I want to fidget under his stare but then he’d know I was lying to him. So I stand strong, staring him down just as he is me.

“You better fucking not be.” He stalks back out to the patio and a whoosh of air leaves my lungs.

That was fucking close. Too fucking close. I need to figure my shit out. I can’t keep hiding things from my best friend. I want to love Emma out loud, just like she deserves.

I set out to get the drinks I came in here for, filling the tray when my phone buzzes in my pocket.

I ignore it, walking out to deliver to the Keaton family.

The thought of spilling the asshole’s beer on him by accident crosses my mind, but then I think better of it.

Hunter would lose his shit based on our earlier conversation about Emma.

Hunter’s eyes don’t leave mine the entire time I’m down at Emma’s end of the table.

I really fucked up today. I can’t hide my reaction to her anymore and now that she’s back for good, it’s only going to get harder having to do this song and dance almost daily.

I put on my professional owner’s face when it comes to her and this asshole touching her like her entire family isn’t around.

The only thing that makes me more pissed off than his hands on her is the fact that she looks like she feels uncomfortable with him.

Once I’m back inside, the waitress I was covering for is back from break and I get to ignore Emma and her date the rest of the night if I want to. But knowing the Keaton boys, I’ll be back out there more than once to watch Emma feign being into this guy who is so not her type.

We’re opposites in every possible way. He’s tall but lanky to my muscular body frame.

Blonde hair, blue eyes and pale skin to my dark mediterranean complexion, black hair and golden-brown eyes.

Clean skin compared to my inked arms and chest, down to my calves.

Loafers and a polo, something I’d never be caught dead in.

The only similarity seems to be the way neither of us can keep our eyes off the beauty willing to give us attention, and we lap it up no matter how that attention is delivered.

I pull my phone out of my pocket after remembering the vibration from earlier to see another text from an unknown number.

Unknown: This is Wayne Ryan. I really need to speak to you regarding Blair Ryan. photo attached

Oh fuck. I do know this girl. She was in here on a girl’s trip, right before I started hooking up with Emma.

I am not however getting involved in any marital drama. She did not tell me she was married before moaning my name in my office then again later in her hotel room a few towns over.

Me: Sorry man, don’t know her. Wrong number.

I rub my hand through my hair, tugging on the ends. I hope he doesn’t show up to my brewery looking to start shit. If I remember correctly, or if she didn’t lie, she only lives a few hours away. Definitely a drivable distance if I found out some guy fucked my woman.

How do I get myself in these situations? First my best friend’s sister and now a married woman?

My current troubles would lead anyone to the playboy theory.

A theory I’ve never had an issue with until now.

I don’t want Emma to have her name dragged for being associated with me.

And now a married woman, with a husband who probably wants to kick my ass.

Yeah. Definitely fit the bill of a playboy.

But ever since I saw Emma on the beach that night, it’s only been her.

And probably will only be her. No one else can compare.