Best Of My Love (Home to Green Valley Book 4) (14 page)

“Yeah, but she wants you. That doesn’t bode well for her.”

“Thanks.” Riley punched him in the arm, then stood. He felt a hundred times better than he had before they talked.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Sean assured him. “I won’t tell, mainly because I don’t want to see Erica lose her job here. She’s great.”

“I agree. So we’ll keep it between us. Thank you for that.”

“Any time.” Sean went back to work, and Riley sighed in relief. It felt good, unburdening himself like that. He knew he could trust Sean, even if it meant keeping the truth from their older brothers.

Chapter Sixteen

“What’s all this?” Erica looked around the inside of
The Stylish Irish
, hands on her hips. She had never seen it decorated like this before. Normally, it was a fun, warm, inviting place filled with old pictures, memorabilia from Ireland, and other décor which made the customers feel as though they were in the middle of a real, authentic Irish pub.

Tonight was another story. There were balloons and crepe paper, streamers, and a big cake in one corner of the room. Erica glanced around the room, searching out one O’Neill brother after another, looking for answers.

Her eyes widened when she caught sight of familiar faces, including Anna Kincaid, Brady’s girlfriend. Even Lilly Parker, Quinn’s girlfriend, was there. At least, what Erica could see of her, seeing as how she was wrapped in Quinn’s arms where he leaned against one of columns that separated the restaurant from her bakery space. He was currently kissing the hell out of her, and it didn’t look like they’d be coming up for air anytime soon.

Finally, Erica saw Madlyn Sanchez, a beautiful, curvy brunette, laughing at a table with her son, Jax, who was currently making silly faces at his mother.

“Good day, Erica. Hope you’re well?”

Erica turned to see Conor O’Neill, Riley’s middle brother, standing next to her.

“Conor!” She gave him a quick hug. “I am, thanks. And you?”

“Doing fabulous, love. Thank you.”

He
was
doing fabulous. It radiated from every pore of his body how happy he was. He didn’t come to the restaurant often—he lived with Madlyn and Jax in San Francisco, and would soon be opening his own massage parlor,
The Relaxation Cove
. The fact he, Lilly, and the others were here, in addition to all the décor, indicated it was a special day indeed.

“It’s our dad’s birthday,” Brady explained from the other side of her, his voice gruff.

Erica’s face fell, and she immediately went to him to give him a hug.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. She looked around at all the brothers, trying to communicate her condolences with her expression.

“Nothing to be sorry for, lass.” Brady squeezed her, then grinned. “We’re celebrating the man, after all.”

“Oh, I see. So it’s not an unhappy day?”

“Not hardly,” Sean interjected, doing one more sweep of the floor before taking down the chairs.

Erica helped him. “I have to admit,” she murmured discreetly, “I’ve never seen a birthday party for a deceased person before.”

Quinn spoke from behind her, having finally managed to tear his lips away from Lilly’s. She was still nestled in the crook of his arm, however, blushing and looking deliriously happy.

“I wouldn’t call it traditional, per se, but it’s something we decided to do for our dad. We’ll do the same for Mam, too.”

The reverence with which the boys spoke of their parents made it clear how much they loved and respected them. At least they’d been able to make the best of a terrible situation by moving to America and starting their business.

Riley entered the room. Erica averted her eyes, trying to play it cool even though her heart leaped at the sight of him. It was getting more difficult to hold herself back when it came to him.

There was concern around his mouth, his eyes. Tension was visible in every part of his body, a clear signal to give him all the room he needed. Was it because of his father’s birthday, or something else?

Erica busied herself with work around the pub, getting everything ready to open for the evening. They were planning a blowout, and she needed to be prepared with an extra-full cooler and extra glasses.

As soon as the doors opened, the room filled. Most customers didn’t know it was a special celebration, but they were all too happy to get in on the action. Within an hour, the beer flowed and the music carried everyone along on waves of nostalgia. They were all old songs, the music Mr. O’Neill listened to in his youth. The songs he’d make his sons listen to as they grew up.

“Ach, I remember all the Sunday mornings after church,” Sean said, handing out pint glasses filled with rich, dark ale. “Dad would turn on his old Frank Sinatra records and they’d play all day. I don’t even think they were his records, were they?”

“They were his dad’s,” Quinn replied.

“Right. He loved them. I can’t hear Sinatra now without thinking about Sunday afternoons.” Sean smiled gently, his eyes filled with memories. Brady, meanwhile, stood in the middle of a group of regulars, telling a story about his father’s legendary strength. He was the strongest man in his village, evidently, and in his youth was the heartthrob among all the girls. “On Saturday nights, they’d go out in big groups. The girls would clamor for the chance to have him lift them on his shoulders, just to have the excuse to be close to him. He’d laugh about that with mam, thinking it made her jealous. She’d humor him, but would roll her eyes behind his back as soon as he turned around.” The group broke out in laughter.

“She must’ve been special, then, to catch his eye over all the others,” someone said.

“Aye,” Quinn called out. “They met when he came to America. And he was of course taken in by her beauty.”

“Here.” Sean took the wedding picture down from behind the bar to show around.

Erica had often admired it. There was so much of the boys in the faces of their parents, from the beautiful shape of their mother’s eyes—only Brady had inherited their stunning blue color—to the strong jaw and easy smile of their father.

Sean seemed to have a handle on the customers, so Erica tapped him on the shoulder and asked for a break. He was accommodating, as always, and she slipped out through the kitchen door. Compared to the raucous noise around the bar, the kitchen seemed almost silent. She leaned against the wall once out of sight and sighed, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead.

There was Riley, helping at the fryer. She had never seen him there before—it was always Brady handling such work. Riley was normally behind the bar, or working the room. She approached, hesitant but curious.

“Why aren’t you out there, with your brothers?” she asked quietly. “You haven’t spoken a word to them, or me, all night. Did I do something wrong?”

He glanced at her with a smirk, then shook his head. “Of course not. What could you possibly have done? You’re wonderful.”

She didn’t know whether or not to take him seriously. His voice was thick with sarcasm. “What is it, then? Can you tell me about it?”

“I’d rather not,” he admitted. “If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind. I just felt like…well, like I should ask. You deserve to have somebody care about how you feel.” With those simple words, Erica turned. She intended to step outside for a breath of air.

“What does that mean?”

She turned back to find Riley with his hands on his hips. She frowned. “I mean what I said. You deserve to have somebody care. Don’t we all want that, really? Somebody to care whether or not we’re happy or unhappy?”

He smirked. “You make it sound very easy, you know.”

“What’s so hard about it? I don’t understand. I care about you. I see you looking upset, I notice you putting distance between yourself and your customers tonight. It’s natural for me to want to check with you, to see if there’s anything you need to talk about. I don’t think it’s so abnormal.”

He was torn, she saw, between wanting to open up and wanting to keep up his stubborn attitude. She smiled softly, letting him off the hook by turning away. Stepping outside as she’d originally planned, Erica took a deep breath of fresh air. It was a relief after the warmth inside the pub—all those bodies created a lot of heat, as did rushing back and forth behind the bar, of course.

She wasn’t entirely surprised to hear the door open and close behind her. She waited for him to speak.

“I don’t understand how they’re all so happy today.”

Erica closed her eyes when she heard the pain and uncertainty in his voice. “I understand that,” she murmured.

“No, you can’t.”

“Can’t I? Are you sure? We’ve never talked about my parents, have we?”

A pause. “No, we haven’t.”

She turned to him, taking a deep breath. “Mom mom’s in Indiana. Remarried. Happy. But my dad died, too, you know.”

Riley’s blue eyes flew open wide. “Oh, shite. I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. Jesus, what an idiot I am.”

“You’re not an idiot. I’ve never talked about it. That’s all.”

“Can I…may I ask…?”

“He was sick,” she explained. “The funny part is, he was always the picture of health. Everybody in town thought he would live forever—always running, always walking the dogs, full of energy, full of vitality.”

“Same with my Dad,” Riley observed. “Though he spent most of his time at The Crazy Yankee, our family restaurant in Dublin.”

“From all I’ve heard, our fathers were a lot a like.” Her father had always been afraid of poverty, after being raised in it. He used to spend his nights worrying about where the money would come from for the bills, no matter how comfortable they were. “What If” plagued him until the day he died. What if he were injured on the job? What if he got sick? How would the family survive? When she heard of the untouched nest egg Ian left behind, she’d immediately thought of her father.

Erica continued. “It was as big a surprise to us as it was to anybody else when he went into the hospital—actually, that’s not really true. We knew there was something wrong with him for a long time. He used to complain of chest pains, only even when he had a stress test, it came back clean. He didn’t have any heart trouble. Still, the pain was always there.”

“What was it?”

“Pancreatitis. Acute. His pancreas dissolved, basically.”

“Shite.” Riley looked horrified.

“By the time the crisis happened and the medics rushed him to the hospital, they thought he was actually having a major cardiac event. He was in so much pain, he was vomiting and convulsing. But he didn’t die that day. It took three months.”

“Oh, God. How awful. I’m sorry. It sounds so inadequate, doesn’t it?”

Erica nodded. “But it’s all you can say. I know. So you see, I know how you feel. A little, anyway. It’s been five years and I still can’t pass his birthday without crying. Or my parents’ anniversary, or the anniversary of his death, or even the anniversary of the day he went into the hospital. He never went home after that, you know.” Erica’s chin quivered, and a single tear fell. “It’s still really hard for me to be happy when I think about him. Other people tell stories and laugh, and I can do it if I have to. But most of the time, when I think of him or his favorite song comes on the radio, I cry my eyes out. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it.”

The relief on Riley’s face was like balm on Erica’s heart. If she could help him feel better just by understanding what he went through, her own pain didn’t seem worthless. It was all for a reason, even if that reason was only to help him.

“I don’t blame you for not wanting to be in there,” she murmured, moving closer to him. “I just wouldn’t want to see you miss the party, either. You never know. It might be fun.”

He frowned, looking at the ground. “I don’t know. We were all close with dad, but for me… The others went to Mam for advice. I went to dad. Whenever a decision needed making, whenever I needed help with school, girlfriends, shams, anything—I’d sit with Dad by the telly and we’d talk. He pretended to keep his gaze on the show, because somehow he knew it was easier for me to talk to him that way, but he always listened. He always cared.”

“It’s good you know that. It’s good to remember that. If you change your mind, I’ll be there,” she whispered. “The whole time. I’m with you.” It was a chance, talking to him like that. She didn’t know if he even wanted her to. It seemed like a pretty intimate thing to say, that she would be there to support him through the heartbreak. She’d felt compelled to say it. There was no stopping it.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“I have to go back in.” Erica took Riley’s face in her hands and kissed him, briefly but firmly. She wished she could stay with him all night, that she could hold him and take the hurt away for a little while. He flashed her a quick smile, and she went back inside.

By the time she returned to her place behind the bar, most of the pub had broken out in song. “
My Way.
” Another Sinatra classic. She grinned when she saw the three O’Neill boys singing at the top of their lungs, arms around each other’s shoulders.

Sean’s eyes lit up, and he waved someone toward him. Erica turned, her eyes filling with tears as Riley entered from the kitchen. He joined his brothers, his voice blending with his brothers and the rest of the pub, including Erica’s. When he looked at her, Erica saw grief, but she also saw happiness.