Page 23 of Falling for You
“Oh, he wants your help,” Violet mutters under her breath as I walk past her to grab another cookie.
Olivia starts to cry, and Mom tells me she thinks she’s hungry according to the schedule she found in the diaper bag.
“Listen, thanks for the brainstorming ideas, but how about we wait and see what Rome comes up with on his own, yeah?” I grab Olivia and the bottle from Mom, heading out to the living room to feed her in peace. And try to get my own mind under control from the spinning it’s on right now.
I settle us in the large oversized chair with a chunky knit blanket draped over our laps. Olivia grasps at the edge of her bottle, loudly gulping down her formula. She’s looking up at me like I’m supposed to be the one who has my shit together here. I’m not.
“Livvy girl, what do you think?” She doesn’t answer, just continues to stare at me while she chugs. I lean down and kiss her forehead.
The pain of seeing her, Rome’s child, in my lap, is hell on my heart. I feel guilty that it makes me the tiniest bit sad to look at her.
Then there’s the real question. Could I live with her father? I can barely be in his brewery with him. We’re constantly at each other’s throats, figuratively and literally.
I prefer the literal option when he gives me a two handed necklace followed by a little hair pulling… Nope. I can’t do this.
He will need to find another nanny. And she better be old and have warts.
My fifth dropped pint slams to the floor, shattering in all different directions.
“Fuck!” I yell out in frustration.
Jasmine, my waitress that caught me and Emma earlier, comes back to the kitchen. “Rome, go home. Whatever was happening earlier is obviously messing with you. We’re good. Go get your girl. Or your baby. Or both.”
She slyly fishes for information from me to see which I’ll respond to. But I don’t. “Yeah. You’re right. Thanks, Jas. I’m going to talk to Clark. You’re in charge of the front of the house tonight, okay?”
She salutes me and walks back out to the dining room, leaving me to clean up my mess… again.
I toss the contents of the dustpan into the trash and head over to Clark who has been eyeing me all night.
“What’s crawled up your ass?” he asks me while plating an order.
“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”
“Try me. I’ve seen some shit in my day, son.” He tosses the plate up into the window. “Order eighty-seven up!”
Clark definitely lived the life years ago when he was my age.
I go through the whole story, again. Retelling my mistakes, and Blair’s selfless act of love for our daughter.
“Oh shit. I never had a surprise baby. You upped me.” He laughs as he continues to move around me in the kitchen, filling the orders that magically never pile up.
I glare at him. I can’t believe he finds this amusing.
“Anyway.” I continue. “Emma took her back to the inn. So if you’re good I’m going to run and… I don’t know. Try to figure out what the hell I’m going to do with becoming an overnight Dad.”
“Yeah, I’m good. Jas has the waitstaff under control?”
“Yup. She’s good. Text me if you need me.”
I wave to my bartenders and waiters as I leave out the front door. There’s a chill in the air for June, and the breeze blows off the water through the trees. Giving an eerie feel to the night as the tall pines sway.
What the fuck did I get into? My Dad always told me that messing with tourists would get me in trouble, and I’ll be damned he was right. He’s going to have a field day with that. Evelyn would never do this. She’s Miss Perfect, dating the illustrious Neil.
He’s got a job in finance, wears a suit everyday, graduated top of his class from an ivy league. And I brew beers. Now, I’m a single dad and I barely remember the baby’s mother. And it’s not for lack of trying. I have been staring at her picture from Wayne all night long. I remember her vaguely, but not enough to be able to fill in memories of her for Olivia. I’m already fucking this up, unable to do the one thing she asked of me.
I pull out my phone, shooting a text to Hunter to see if he’s at the inn.
Me:Headed to the inn, you there?
