Page 9 of Falling for You (Balsam Cliffs #2)

One month. I have one month to tell Hunter that I’m in love with his sister. And after her late night confession before her breaths evened out on the other end of the phone, I know, now more than ever, I’ve completely fallen for that woman and I need to man the fuck up.

So why do I feel so guilty? I love her. I love my best friend’s baby sister. If roles were reversed, I’d want to kill him. The thought of Hunter ever touching my sister the way I touch his makes me want to rage.

I need to prepare for that. I need to be ready for whatever my reaction would be. I want to say I would understand if his feelings were like mine, but I don’t think I could, not at first. I might get there eventually, or I want to believe that I could.

My phone buzzes multiple times. Whoever has been trying to get a hold of me is really trying this morning. I reach for it off the table next to me, trying not to disturb my sleeping pittie, Fiona. She wasn’t happy when my alarm went off and she had to get out of bed.

Unknown: You own Rebel’s Brewery right? In Balsam Cliffs?

Unknown: I know I have the right Roman Thomas.

Unknown: Please, it’s very important that I talk to you.

I don’t think so buddy. You can have your cheating wife. I don’t want any part of this mess.

I slide the phone back over on the table, and snuggle down on my couch with Fiona. We need a nap before I have to head into the brewery.

Especially since Emma is coming today to go over my quarterly books with me. I need sleep, energy, and a lot of restraint to get through today.

I pour a little more cinnamon into the pumpkin spice brew I’m working on for fall. It’s always my best seller, especially with the leaf peepers coming up for the weekends or a day drive.

My favorite time at the brewery is the moments I get to be in the brewhouse by myself before we open. I always feel like an animal at the zoo when I’m in here working and people are sitting at the tables by the windows, watching my every move.

The motion alerts I have set for the entrance go off, so I walk out front to let Emma in.

Except when I open the door, it’s not Emma.

“Hi, how can I help you? We don’t open until four tonight.” I greet the man with a baby in his arms. I hold the door open with my foot so it doesn’t close and lock behind me.

“I’m not here to eat. I’m here for Roman Thomas,” he replies curtly.

“I’m Roman. What can I do for you?” I ask once more.

“I’m Wayne Ryan. And this is your daughter, Olivia Rose Thomas.” He gently turns her in his arms so I can see her face.

I drop the bottle of cinnamon I was holding and it bounces away from us.

“I’m sorry?” I stammer. There is absolutely no fucking way I heard that right.

An older woman walks up to Wayne’s side. “Is this Roman?” she whispers to him.

“Yes, honey, I think he’s in shock.”

“Wayne Ryan! I know you didn’t tell this man he has a daughter while he’s standing here holding the door open for you,” she admonishes him.

“What?” I say out loud, trying to figure out what the actual fuck is happening. “I do not have a daughter.”

“Rome?” Emma’s voice penetrates through the confusion, and I see her poking her head around the older couple. Fucking great. Just what I fucking need.

“Hello, dear, I’m Diane Ryan. This beauty’s Gigi.” She gestures lovingly at the baby snuggled in Wayne’s arms.

“Why don’t we go inside?” Emma holds her arm out, showing the Ryans into the brewery, past me who is still stupidly holding the door open with my foot.

I stand frozen in my spot, watching them move as if I’m having some out of body experience, someone else’s life imploding in front of me.

Emma stops, pushing her body into my space, and grasping my face with her hands.

“Hey, Rome, you here with me?”

Concern laces her face as her brows furrow.

“No.”

She kisses my lips, gently at first, but then a deep commanding kiss gaining my full attention. “How about now?”

“I have a daughter.” I’m not sure if I’m telling her or asking her.

“Yeah. It seems like that. Why don’t we go find out what’s going on?” She lets go of my face and holds her hand out to me, allowing me to use her as my comfort.

Another fucking secret. Except this time I wasn’t privy to the secret. What the fuck kind of man am I? Not a good one that’s for fucking sure.

I take a seat at the table where the Ryans are, across from Wayne.

Emma steps up when I can’t. “Can I get you two a drink?”

“No, we’re all set,” Mrs. Ryan answers her.

“I’m sorry, can we all just talk about how the hell I have a daughter?” I blurt out. How are they all acting like I just invited them over for a catch up beer?

“Well, son, you met my daughter, Blair. And from there I’m not really sure what she saw in you but I assume you two ended up horizontal,”—he raises a brow—“and did something drunk and stupid. And here we are.”

Diane smacks his arm, “Blair came here for a girl’s weekend after she found out she had Leukemia.

I assume she was a bit wild after the news, and that’s our girl that you met.

When she came home, she had no idea. But she had her final bloodwork before her first chemotherapy appointment, and it came back positive for pregnancy.

All our girl ever wanted was to be a mother.

So she forewent treatment, and accepted that she would be happy to have any time that she could with her baby.

Unfortunately, the cancer progressed a lot faster than we anticipated, and she only got four months with Olivia.

” Tears well in her eyes at the memory of losing her daughter.

“Our daughter told us about you. When we knew she wasn’t going to make it to treatment after giving birth, she wrote out all she knew about you, and we used the internet to fill in the holes. She wrote you a letter.” He hands me an envelope with my name scrawled on the front.

I take the letter and walk over to the bar. Emma follows me.

“What do you need, Rome?”

“I don’t know.” I flip the envelope around between my fingers.

She kisses my cheek, and rests her hand on my forearm. “Take your time. I will keep them entertained.”

She walks back to the Ryans leaving me alone with this damn letter, a ticking bomb in my hand.

I take it with me to my office and softly close the door behind me. Taking a seat at my desk, I slice open the envelope. The paper is riddled with blotted ink from what I imagine were from her tears as she wrote this letter for her daughter.

Roman,

First of all, I’m sorry for not telling you about Olivia. I selfishly wanted all the time I could have with her. I didn’t want to share her, even before she was here.

I know this is probably a shock, but if you’re not hearing this from me, then I’ve passed away and my parents are fulfilling my wishes to find you for our baby girl.

Please love her, Roman. Love her for me and you. She’s the best baby. She’s always happy, smiling, and no matter how you feel she will brighten your day. She is everything good about this world.

Show her the world, show her all the best parts of everything, and protect her from the scary.

I will be forever grateful to you for giving me this experience and the love of the beautiful girl in your arms. Getting to grow her for the last nine months, and snuggle her sweet newborn self is my biggest accomplishment in life.

So thank you for this beautiful gift. I hope you feel the same about her.

Don’t let her forget me.

XO, Blair

The tears fall silently down my cheeks, disappearing into my beard.

I pick up the envelope and a photo falls out.

A beaming Blair is sitting in a hospital bed with Olivia.

Olivia has on the typical hospital hat with a bow on it.

The pride she feels for her child is evident in this photo and causes more tears to come.

This woman gave her life for her child, and here I am hiding in my office from this baby girl.

Get your shit together, Rome.

I shove my chair back to stand up and send it flying into the wall. The action shocks me, my emotional state is too fragile and I’m too overwhelmed by all that I’m feeling.

Taking a deep breath, I step out of my office and walk slowly down the hallway.

The image I see first in the dining room hits me right in the fucking chest.

Emma is holding Olivia, bouncing her around the dining room and snuggling her close to her chest.

She stops as soon as she sees me standing at the entrance to the dining room.

“I’m sorry.” She looks over her shoulder to the table where the Ryans were sitting.

The table is full of bags, strollers, and a carseat.

“Where did they go? They just left her here with a damn stranger?” I stalk over to the front door, whipping it open to look in the parking lot for them.

Emma walks up behind me, “They left. They gave me their contact info, and they’re staying at a cabin at the inn.”

“Then let’s go.” I run over to the bar to grab my keys. “We can’t let them just dump her here!”

“Hey, sit down, take a breath.” Emma places her free hand on my shoulder, the other cradling my baby. Mine but not ours. This is all fucking wrong. “Look at me.”

I sit on the stool next to me and turn to face Emma. She steps in between my legs with Olivia between us.

“She looks just like you.” She smiles at me.

“I got their information and I called Violet. They’re paid up for the week so I don’t think they’re just ditching her.

They said we could call them, and that they set up a paternity test in Portland that will get you the results in a day or two.

They aren’t bad people, Rome. They just want to do what is best for their daughter’s wishes and their granddaughter. ”

“This is so messed up, Sunshine.” I lean my head on her shoulder.

“We’ll get through it.” She strokes my hair, and Olivia wiggles in her arm.

I drop my hand from where it’s resting on Em’s hip and reach up to brush the baby’s chubby cheek with the back of my finger. Her head turns to face me, and I see her golden eyes up close with their specks of dark espresso across the gold.

There is no denying she’s mine.

“You don’t—” I’m interrupted by the front door swinging open.

“Hey, boss! Woah. What happened here? We have a baby shower here today?” My opening server waltzes through the door missing the mark on the emotional read of the room.

“No.”

She stops and takes in the sight in front of her. My hand wrapped around Emma’s thigh, her arm resting on my shoulder, and my other hand on the cheek of the baby in between us.

“Uh… I think I’m just going to go out back and start wrapping silverware.” She practically runs back to the kitchen, probably already pulling her phone out texting the rest of the staff.

“Listen, you have to get the brewery situated. Why don’t I bring her to the inn, Mom can help me take care of her until you can get away. And if it gets too late I’ll bring her back to your house, okay?” Emma leans her forehead onto mine.

“I can’t make you take this on, Sunshine. It’s not fair. Not after what I’ve been doing to you. I can’t ask you to do this for me.”

“I’m offering, Rome. And we’re friends if nothing else. Let me help you.”

What did I do in life to deserve her? The answer is nothing. I’ve done nothing and I don’t deserve her, that’s the truth.

“Yeah, okay. When Clark gets here I’ll help them through the dinner rush and then come meet you.” I release my hold on her.

“Are you going to tell Hunter?” I stare at her, “I mean about Olivia. He’s probably at my cabin, which means he’ll stop in for dinner from Violet.”

She backs up moving toward the table to pack up Olivia’s items.

“Oh. Right. I guess I should.” I grab the heavier items and lug them out to my truck. Since she walked here she will need a way to get home.

Once I get everything in I’m tasked with a carseat, and what Emma has told me is a car seat base. You need a damn engineering degree to get this thing in. I’m on my third YouTube video for instruction and I think it’s finally in. I grip the edge and pull it, it doesn’t budge.

“You get it?” I look over my shoulder to see Emma with Olivia, shielding her head from the sun with a blanket.

“Maybe ask Anna to look at it for me? She must know what she’s doing after raising six of you.”

She laughs half-heartedly at my attempted joke, “Yeah I’ll ask her. She is already on her way to the inn.”

Emma places the carseat on the base like a pro. It makes me wonder if she watched as many videos as I did about car seats.

My mind is still reeling and I don’t even know how I’m supposed to move forward with my normal routine right now knowing that Emma is at the inn with the entire Keaton family, and my daughter.

My daughter.

God, that’s weird to say.

“It’ll be okay, Rome. I promise.” She closes the door to the backseat and opens the driver’s side door.

She slides in, closes the door and starts up the truck. I watch her back away, and Clark pulls in at the same time.

I take in a deep breath, not ready to tell Clark about what just happened. Mainly because I still don’t believe that it’s true. It’s not me. It’s not happening to me.