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

by Virna DePaul

  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.

  “I’m part-owner of the establishment in which you stand. I’d be happy to show you the deed if you don’t believe me. And my brothers could always come out, too. Maybe you haven’t met them. The three of them.” He cast a glance at Frat Boy’s two friends. Both of them stepped back.

  Frat Boy made the mistake of scoffing. “Gimme a break.” He shoved Riley aside, meaning to get back to his stool. It was all the excuse Riley needed to lay into him.

  “Riley, no!” It was too late. He took Frat Boy by the collar and hauled him outside. Dozens of customers ran to the window to see what would happen. Erica ran to the kitchen, instead, calling for Riley’s brothers, who all came running. They all headed outside.

  Riley and Frat Boy circled each other.

  “Riley, please,” Erica called. “Come inside. He’s not worth it.”

  “Listen to your girlfriend, pal. Unless you want me to lay into you.” Even Erica could hear the tremor of fear in Frat Boy’s voice.

  Riley laughed. “Come at me. Let’s go. I gave you the chance to leave, and you didn’t take it.”

  Frat Boy glanced around, blanching when he caught sight of Quinn, Brady and Sean.

  “What’s this? The Irish Mafia?” He looked a strange shade of green, Erica noted.

  “Aye, friend. We had to leave Ireland to escape prosecution for our crimes.” Brady’s voice was tight, as were his fists.

  Erica bit back a laugh.

  “All right. I know when I’m outnumbered.” He held up his hands in surrender. The boys relaxed, even Riley.

  Then he made a mistake, though. He looked at Erica as he passed, scoffing. “Slut.”

  Riley leaped at him, landing a single blow to the other man’s face. His nose spurted blood. Riley shook out his hand.

  “You deserved it,” Sean muttered, taking Riley by the arm to lead him inside. Riley looked murderous, spitting in Frat Boy’s direction. The boys went back inside, while Frat Boy’s friends collected him from the sidewalk and led him away.

  Erica shook slightly as she went back inside. Brady and Quinn worked hard to pick up spirits in the pub, smiling, joking, pouring beers. The customers seemed to dismiss what happened.

  There was no Riley. She didn’t even know where he’d come from, hadn’t realized he was in the building. She went to the kitchen, where he was wrapping his fist in a makeshift ice pack.

  Sean saw her enter and left like the kitchen was on fire. She stared at Riley, waiting for him to speak. When he didn’t, she said, “Thank you for that. I was all right, though.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Aye, you looked all right. That octopus had his tentacles all over you.”

  “I know. It wouldn’t be the first time.” She shrugged.

  “Next time Brady offers to get rid of somebody for you, don’t tell him not to. He’s the owner.”

  She frowned. “So you’ve been back here, spying on me? Too much of a coward to come out and say hello?”

  His jaw dropped. “Were you just out there? Did you see what I did? Was that something a coward would do?”

  “There are all kinds of ways to be a coward.” Deep down inside, she wanted to throw her arms around him, thank him up and down for protecting her. He’d been the man she needed him to be, protecting her from harm, but now all she sensed was animosity and distance between them.

  Hold me, she thought. Put it all aside and hold me. Please. I need you.

  He didn’t. Instead, he turned and left without a word. She managed to wait until he was gone, until he couldn’t hear her anymore, before starting to cry.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was hell, staying away from Erica. There was no other solution, though. He couldn’t face her until he knew the deal with Lucy. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise, confusing her with things like feeling and desires and dreams, when he couldn’t give her a clue about what his life might look in about nine months from now.

  He’d thought he might be able to be near her. That was why he’d gone to the restaurant the night that asshole groped her. He hadn’t been able to stay away, though. And she’d only gotten pissed at him. It had been a mistake, so he made sure now that he stayed away from her as much as possible.

  “You can’t hide from Erica forever,” Quinn told him almost a week after he’d fought for her. They were sitting down to breakfast at Quinn’s house, the five of them. Conor had driven in from San Francisco, and while Lilly had returned to Miami a couple of days after Dad’s birthday celebration, Brady and Conor had obviously asked their girls for some time alone, because Anna had accompanied Madlyn and her son Jax to a children’s museum in Napa.

  Even though they were at Quinn’s house, Brady had done the cooking. Brady was the best cook of the bunch, and he’d went all out preparing the sort of meal Americans didn’t eat. It was amazing, the way they thought pancakes or French toast was a good breakfast, but they’d balk at the idea of eggs, bacon, sausage, blood pudding, beans, tomatoes and soda bread. It was “too much,” they said.

  Brady plated up the grilled bread, which Riley dipped into the yolks of his fried eggs. He tried to avoid Quinn’s penetrating stare, but there was no getting away from it.

  “It’s only been a week, and I know she’s had her exams to focus on. I’m not trying to hide from her forever,” he said, keeping his voice low. The last thing he needed was a lecture, but it seemed as though Quinn was in the mood to deliver one whether his brother wanted it or not. “I’m waiting for word from Lucy to decide what she wants,” he explained. “So I can tell Erica and then she can make an informed decision about whether she wants anything to do with me or she’d rather move on.”

  “Are you waiting to give her more information? Because it seems like you can do that without pushing her away first, which is exactly what you’re doing.”

  This was from Conor. Riley loved his middle brother, but the guy didn’t know what he was talking about. “She’s the one who asked for time and space away from me. You weren’t in the bar that day to hear it, but that’s what she said.”

  “Are you gone in the head?” Quinn snapped.

  “What?” Riley said.

  “She was in shock, you daft prick. Christ.” Sean shook his head. “She wants you. All she’s waiting for is a sign that you still want her.”

  “I think I gave her that sign when I whaled on the asshole who touched her, don’t you think?”

  “No, because then you walked away from her, maggot,” Brady said.

  “Only to give her space. Time.”

  “Oh, the same space and time she wanted to give you? The same space and time neither of you actually want but are too damn hurt and confused and stubborn to admit?”

  Riley opened his mouth to argue with Brady, but then shut it when he realized there was no poi
nt. They were all right. Riley was a daft prick. He’d wanted to do the right thing and give her space and time, but it was the last thing he wanted. Maybe that’s how she felt, too, and they were simply crossing their wires given the shock they’d all been dealt. “I’ve been an epic prat.” Riley pushed the food around on his plate, wishing he could dissolve into the floor.

  “What are you gonna do about it?”

  “I don’t know,” Riley admitted. “I don’t know if there’s anything I can do. The day after I confessed my love for her, she had to hear I got another woman pregnant. What kind of romantic gesture will make up for that?”

  The five of them sat in near silence, the only sound coming from their knives and forks against their plates.

  “What does she like?” Conor asked.

  Riley shrugged. “Lots of things. Old music. Queen, especially.” The others made approving noises. “Dancing. The holidays—she’s a Christmas freak. Even wears Christmas socks in the middle of May.”

  “Buy her something nice,” Brady suggested.

  “Nah, she’s not that type of girl,” Sean argued. “She’s not the one to go for gifts over emotion.”

  “Sean’s right,” Riley decided. “A piece of jewelry would work for some, but not for her. I wouldn’t want to be with her so badly if that would do it.”

  They fell silent again.

  “I don’t even know if she wants to have anything to do with me, to be honest,” Riley muttered. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she told me to shove it up my arse.”

  “She’s not the type, and you know it,” Sean said. “I’ve been watching her. She seems upset without you. I’m sure she wants to work it out.”

  Riley wasn’t so sure. But he was going to take his brother’s word for it and try to work it out any way he could.

  He missed her. So damn much.

  He was through throwing himself a pity party. He had a life to live. One that looked like it would include a child.