Page 77 of Be My Reason

Tears roll down my cheeks onto Nate’s pillow as I stare at the small slip of black paper the doctor printed for me that has a picture of my little peanut.Nate’s baby.

I swear Emma to secrecy.Of course I will have to tell Nate about this sooner or later. But I have to figure some things out for myself first. She says she will stay with me the next few days as she was planning to visit this weekend anyway.

Emma crawls in bed with me. After I cry my eyes out, yet again, I come up with some ideas that make this whole situation easier to swallow. I wipe my face and try to look confident. “I can do this.” I nod my head at her. “I can be a single mom. Look at my business, it is perfect for a working mother, I can set up a play pen in the corner of the bakery kitchen. Heck, I can even put the baby to sleep up here and get one of those video monitor things to keep an eye on it.”

She smiles sweetly at me. “I know you can.And you’ll be the best mom, Lyn. Don’t worry about anything. It will all work out, you’ll see.”

I fall asleep dreaming of precious blue-eyed girls with long, dark hair and adorable tow-headed boys with Nate’s dimples.

Chapter Thirty-one

Two days afterDr. Happy dropped the bomb on me, I’m still walking around in disbelief but am slowly coming to accept what is happening. I’ve even thought about picking up the phone a few times to call Nate. I chicken out every time, of course. Maybe he will think that I’m trying to trap him. Or worse, he will say he doesn’t want anything to do with the baby.

I’m sitting in the bakery office, tears rolling down my cheek for the umpteenth time—freaking hormones—as I stare at the bracelet still firmly attached to my wrist and contemplate being a single mother. I unclasp it for the first time since Nate put it on me. I slip it off, turn it over and rub my thumb over the inscription.To remember the past ~ To trust in the future

I close my eyes tight and try to envision a future without Nate. I havesome close friends that I know will step up to help me out. I’m even quite certain Ryan will offer to be a surrogate dad . . . or at the very least, a favorite uncle. With my friends and family here, I know I can make the best of this. I have to make the best of this. For him or her—I rub my still-flat belly—I will do what I have to.

I open my eyes and think I must have fallen asleep and slipped into a dream when I see none other than Nate Riley standing in front of me holding a dozen roses in one hand and a thick folder in the other. God, he is a sight for sore eyes. He is wearing worn jeans and a tight black shirt that shows off his impressive physique. His hair has grown out, making it curl up even more at the ends and he has what looks to be several days of stubble on his jaw. He is gorgeous.

For a split second, my heart leaps and I get so excited that I almost bolt out of my chair and crash into him. But then I realize what has most likely happened and my excitement turns to anger. Emma must have told him about the baby. That is the reason he is here. Not for me.

“What areyoudoing here?” I spit out at him.

He looks guiltily at the floor,and then he raises his eyes back to meet mine. He gives me a smile that makes my body betray me, almost melting me on the spot. He takes a few steps towards my desk and places the vase full of beautiful red roses on it. Then he puts the folder down and retrieves a sketch book out of it.

“I have so much to tell you, Brooklyn.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know where to start so I guess I’ll just show you.”

He opens the book for me and stands back. I thumb through the many pages of drawings he’s made of the bakery.Sketches of the outside of the building, the counter area, even the kitchen and office. They are incredible, but I’m surprised that they lack the copious detail that he usually brings to his drawings. The placement of the display cases are all wrong, the office is a much larger scale than it really is and the outside of the building looks like part of a strip mall or something. The outside picture looks nothing like my stand-alone building, although the marquee above the doors is a dead-on replication.

Confused, I look up at him with a million unanswered questions.

“Just let me talk for a minute.” He motions to the chair opposite mine. “May I?”

“Fine.” I blow out a long breath.

“Brooklyn,” hesays, holding my gaze, “I love you.”

I shake my head at him. “Nate, I—”

“Baby, pleasewill you let me speak? I have so much to tell you,” he begs.

I stay silent and cross my arms over my chest.Maybe as a subconscious measure to protect my heart.

“Like I was saying. . .” He raises an eyebrow at me. “I love you. I love you so much it hurts to even look at you right now, not knowing if I can ever have you again. I know I completely screwed up. It was unfair of me to ask you to choose between me and him—me and your business. But I swear to you I’m better now. I won’t ever do that again. I will make it up to you if you give me the chance.”

He stops talking for a second and I take that as a sign that I’m allowed to speak.I momentarily wonder why he hasn’t mentioned the baby. “Nate, I believe that you are sorry. But I’ve thought a lot about it over the past five weeks and I don’t think it will work with us. I understand why, and I don’t fault you for the women that have caused you to have trust issues, but I don’t think I can live life with a man who is always wondering if and when I will cheat on him.”

“No.” He leaves his chair and gets on his knees next to my chair and touches my leg gently, sending familiar sparks up to my tight chest. “No, Brooklyn, I need you to understand that I’ve addressed my trust issues. I’ve been seeing my therapist and he has given me coping mechanisms. I know you aren’t sleeping with Ryan. I knew even back then that you weren’t. It wasn’t you I didn’t trust, it was him.”

“Still, how do I know you won’t have these same issues with him again, or with any other man in my life, for that matter?” I ask him.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Brooklyn.” He looks up at me from his place on the floor. He takes my hand in his. “Dr. Bloom, my therapist, he told me that one of the things I can do to help with my trust issues is to make friends with all of the men in your life. And not just meet them either, really get to know them on a deeper level,” he says, squeezing my hand, “and, it works. It’s working.”

“What do you meanit’s working?”

“Well, weeks ago,only days after you left, after my first session with Dr. Bloom, I contacted Ryan and—”

“What?” I interrupt him. “He didn’t say anything.” I look at him and search his eyes for answers.

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