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  • Lightstruck: ( A Contemporary Romance Novel) (Brewing Passion Book 2) Page 4

Lightstruck: ( A Contemporary Romance Novel) (Brewing Passion Book 2) Read online

Page 4


  Until he’d made it into one, of course.

  When he caught sight of her, Evelyn, propped up in the bed holding a pink-blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms, all the spit dried up in his mouth. His heart stopped, then thudded forward too fast, making him gasp. She looked up at him, her deep blue eyes full of tears. Her lips trembled. “Ross?” she managed. But her voice was brittle, as if her throat was dry or overused.

  Austin stood beside her, his hand on her arm, his gaze fixed on Ross. And it was not a pleased gaze. It was dark and angry. With good reason.

  Ross smiled, or tried to, as he walked closer, more nervous than he’d been in his life. The pink bundle made a sudden loud squawk. He flinched and stepped back as both Evelyn and Austin bent over the baby, their faces gone moony and sappy. Ross gulped and put his hand on the edge of Evelyn’s bed to steady himself.

  This, this whole nuclear family scene, was why he’d left in the first place. There was no place for him in it. They had no business perpetuating some kind of kinky three-way set up as something normal. He was the clichéd third wheel. No matter he had been just as in love with Evelyn as Austin was. No matter Austin had exited her life for a brief period, during which time he and Evelyn had spent getting to know each better—and getting her pregnant.

  No matter both of them had insisted to the high heavens that their life would work as ‘three’. Austin had even found a house big enough to accommodate them all.

  Ross knew better. It was beyond ridiculous—to think the damn kid could somehow have ‘two daddies and one mommy’ and they would all live together under one roof.

  He glanced at Austin, thinking not for the first time that if he were bisexual and the ‘two daddies’ thing made sense that way, he might have stuck around. But he was not, neither was Austin, despite their many hours spent fucking women between them. He’d had plenty of opportunity to do a little ‘man exploration’ as had Austin but neither of them had wanted that. They were just comfortable enough together as friends to share women between them—and they had both preferred it that way.

  But now…this…was too much.

  He started backing away from them.

  “Ross,” Evelyn said, finally raising her eyes to his. “Honey. Come and meet your daughter.”

  He shook his head as his head filled with white noise. He was no good as a father. Austin would have to handle that. He couldn’t…

  Austin picked the pink bundle out of Evelyn’s arms and walked over to him. His gaze was still hard, but his smile softened it a little. He pulled the edge of the blanket away, and Ross got his first look at her. And his heart seemed to burst out of his chest.

  “She… She’s…” he stuttered like an idiot.

  Austin held her out, his smile tightening again. Ross took her—so unbelievably tiny—in the crook of his elbow and smiled down at her, figuring he now wore the moony, sappy expression, too. The baby in his arms yawned and her eyes opened, meeting his. They were midnight blue. Austin tugged back the blanket to show him the shock of reddish-blond hair.

  He had the same sinking, out-of-control sensation he’d experienced while watching Evelyn’s body grow and accommodate his baby before her and Austin’s wedding. He used to love to hold the swell of her belly in his arms and just stand like that, pressed against her back, rocking slightly side to side. Until the hard reality of life crashed in on him.

  The whole ‘two daddies’ thing that would never, ever fly. The poor kid would be stigmatized, no doubt about it.

  He loved Evelyn so much, he had honestly wondered if he could share her with Austin. A tiny, greedy part of him had always held out hope that maybe, just maybe, she would choose to marry him instead. Although he always knew that she and Austin were meant to be together. They were simpatico, complementary. She and Ross were too damn much alike. They butted heads way more than she ever did with Austin.

  And so, to simplify all their lives, he’d left.

  But now.

  The infant seemed to be studying him, her eyes narrowed as if not quite sure she liked what she saw. The whole world faded for him then. It was him and this child, his child. He leaned close and touched his nose to hers. She sneezed, then flailed around again, then she smiled.

  “Her name is Rose,” Evelyn said.

  He glanced over at her. The baby—Rose—was screwing up her tiny face in a weird way. She let out a surprisingly loud burst of sound that startled him. Austin took her, already fully competent, and placed her back in Evelyn’s arms.

  “She needs to eat,” he said, his voice flat. Ross was re-frozen in place, watching Evelyn as she tugged open the string of her hospital gown, exposed her breast, and put the baby to her nipple. He dropped into a chair, mesmerized by it. Evelyn winced, then relaxed as the girl got busy.

  Austin handed Evelyn a cup with a straw in it. She sipped then handed it back to him, her face full of the sort of love that Ross wanted to see for himself. He cleared his throat and stood. “I should go.”

  “Probably,” Austin muttered, not looking at him.

  “Austin,” Evelyn hissed.

  “I mean, no, you shouldn’t.” He glared holes in Ross’ skull for a few seconds before he sighed and seemed to slump lower. “Do whatever the fuck you want,” he declared in a soft, baby-appropriate voice. “I don’t care.”

  “Well, excuse me but I do,” Evelyn said in that same neutral tone. Ross tried not to laugh at them but the whole thing was so dumb, so utterly untenable he had a hard time reigning in a touch of hysteria.

  “I’m sorry. To you both,” he said, rising to his feet. “But surely you see it’s for the best. We—the three of us—would never work in the real world. I’m not gonna saddle the kid with some kind of complex, five paragraph explanation about her ‘Uncle Ross’ who also lives in her house and sometimes gets to sleep in mommy and daddy’s bed.” Anger filled his brain, sharpening his words.

  They both stared up at him, identical expressions of unhappy acceptance on their faces. His heart sank. Because he knew now—they believed this was for the best. Austin and Evelyn and baby Rose together as the family unit. Ross gone.

  He put a hand on the thin hospital blanket over Evelyn’s leg. The raw, unfiltered memory of her flesh under his palms, of how she tasted all over, of her laugh, her smart mouth, her brewery-sharp brain, clobbered him, making him blink fast and draw his hand away.

  Austin’s hand tightened on Evelyn’s arm. But the baby remained oblivious to them all, as she fell asleep against her mother’s breast, her tiny mouth half open. Ross gulped at the sight. His arms were aching to have her back, to hold her as she slept.

  But no. He’d made this decision for all of them. Now he had to live with it. Even if it meant never laying eyes on his own daughter—his Rose—ever again.

  “I love…you,” he said, trying not to turn the statement into a past tense as he gazed into Evelyn’s deep blue eyes for what he assumed would be the last time. “I’m so happy you’re okay and the…our baby is healthy and safe.”

  He focused on Austin. “Can we talk? Outside?”

  Evelyn snorted. “You’ve really been away too long, Ross. Since when do you guys get to talk about anything that concerns me outside my hearing?” She was glaring at them both as she pulled her hospital gown together and readjusted the baby onto her chest.

  “Honey, you’re exhausted. You can barely keep your eyes open. Just sleep. I’ll make sure he sticks around, don’t worry.”

  “Fuck you, Austin Fitzgerald,” she said, before a jaw-cracking yawn. “I hate it when you’re right.”

  Austin cradled her cheek with one hand, leaned down and kissed her, then took the sleeping baby and placed her in a little plastic container thing on wheels next to Evelyn’s bed.

  “So help me, Hoffman, if I wake up and you’re gone again, I will hunt you down and kill you, you selfish bastard.”

  Ross opened his mouth to respond, but Austin grabbed his elbow and pushed him toward the door. “Sleep, my love. I’ll hav
e the nurse check in on the baby.”

  When Ross glanced over at her, her eyes were closed. That was the first time he took in how thin her face was, how deep the circles under her eyes, how lank and lifeless her usually bouncy, silky hair was against the hospital pillow. He stopped, trying to turn back, to beg her to forgive him, to promise he’d never leave her again.

  But Austin was yanking him forward so he kept moving, blinking in the much brighter light of the hallway. “Jesus,” he said, wiping his lips with shaking fingers. “That was…hey!”

  Hands gripped his biceps and shoved him backward. When his ass hit the railing that ran along the hospital wall, he braced himself. But even then, when the back of his skull whammed into the wall he was shocked. If not completely surprised.

  “You,” Austin said, his face mere centimeters from Ross’. “You. Fucking. Prick.” With every word, spit flew into Ross’ face. He tensed, forcing himself not to fight back. He deserved this, and more.

  But Austin let go of him then, making him stumble forward. “Screw it. You’re not worth the effort.” Austin crossed his arms over his chest. Ross took a breath, tamping down his urge to slug the guy, if only to gain a reaction. To his surprise, Austin leaned over and braced his hands on his thighs, as if he’d just run a marathon.

  Ross hesitated, glancing at the medical staff people scurrying around trying to pretend the near fist fight hadn’t just happened in front of them. His shattered heart seemed to find yet another corner to break off and drop to his feet at the sight of his friend, his best friend, so undone. He reached for Austin’s arm but the other man jerked out of his grip.

  “You have no idea,” he said. “You’re out there probably fucking every pussy in Colorado, and you have no…god damned…idea what she’s going through.”

  “I…didn’t… I mean…” He stopped and raked his fingers through his raggedy beard. Confusion mixed with anxiety, which just added to his misery. His stomach made a strange noise, reminding him that he hadn’t consumed any food in twenty-four hours. His head felt light all of a sudden and the hallway dimmed from the edges of his vision.

  “Shit,” he said, dropping back to grip the hallway rail again. Austin kept glaring at him. “Austin, I’m… You know it would never work. Shit, man, you don’t want me around. Admit it. It’s fine when we’re sandwiching some random chick after a night out at a bar. We…we can’t fucking share her.” He pointed to Evelyn’s closed hospital door. “And you know that as well as I do.”

  For the first time since Ross had arrived and seen him, Austin seemed unsure of himself. He ran a hand around the back of his neck, looked at the ceiling, then at the floor. Ross waited him out.

  “My gut is about to eat itself. Can we get some food?”

  Austin sighed. “Yeah, okay. Fine.” He started down the hall, leaving Ross to follow him. They rode the elevator down in silence. Walked across the huge, crowded, granite lined lobby with two feet of air between them. As they stutter stepped their way through the giant revolving door, Ross allowed himself to relax.

  The bright sunlight hit him in the eyeballs, surprising him. He’d lost complete track of time, or of the day for that matter. He stopped on the sidewalk and took a long breath. As he opened his eyes, the left hook landed on his nose. He yelled in surprise and stumbled, then recovered and came up punching. His upper cut connected with Austin’s ribs with a satisfying cracking sensation.

  “You fucker,” Austin huffed as he drew back and broke Ross’ nose with one punch before shoving him to the ground, landing on his chest and raining blows down on his face.

  Someone yanked the man off, but Ross lay on the ground, staring up at the bright blue Michigan sky. He hurt in a lot of places, but the place he hurt most would never, truly heal. He’d never get over Evelyn and the incredible time they’d spent together—both with Austin and without him.

  “All right, get up,” a voice said. A strong hand gripped his arm and yanked him to his feet, bringing an instant blinding pain to his face. “ER’s thattaway,” the security guard said, shoving them both toward the big emergency sign. “Beat it. You’re scarin’ the natives.”

  Ross spit a wad of blood onto the grass. “I’m fine,” he said, fingering his crooked nose.

  “No, you’re not, ya dumbass,” the pseudo-cop insisted. “ER. Now.”

  Austin was holding his side and wincing. “Come on,” he said. “I feel better.”

  “Well, shit, man, I’m glad one of us does.”

  Austin gave him a wan smile.

  “I’m so sorry, Austin. I didn’t mean for you to deal with all this by yourself.” He waved his hand indicating the general medical situation. “I really didn’t.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” his friend said, his eyes softening ever so slightly as they started for the ER entrance. “But I may never forgive you for what you put her through.”

  Ross grunted and ran his tongue around his mouth, seeking broken teeth. He found one, and spit it into his hand. “You may have just made me better looking,” he said, holding up the tooth. “Chicks dig this hockey face thing.”

  “God, you never change, do you?”

  He stopped, processing the deeper meaning of that question. “No. I guess not,” he admitted. “I can’t stay, Austin. I told you why, and I know you agree with me. We can’t…it won’t work. I mean, look at us now. It’ll only get worse.”

  “I didn’t beat your face in because I was jealous of you, you idiot. I did it because you abandoned her. You made her miserable with worry over your sorry ass. It wore her down. Her blood pressure shot up, she nearly…nearly died.” He stopped and put his hands on his knees again, sucking in deep breaths.

  Ross touched his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it clear to her why I’m not going to be involved. No more mystery. No more worry. Ross will be just fine, off chasing pussy all over Colorado.” His heart ached at the thought of this reality but he pasted a convincing smile on his face when Austin shot him an unbelieving glare then slowly stood up.

  “She won’t believe you.”

  “She’ll have to,” Ross said as he stepped into the chaotic ER. “She’ll be busy with the baby, anyway. I’ll just slip away.”

  Austin turned to him, his bloodied fist raised.

  Ross held up a hand. “After I tell her why and where I’m going and that she has no reason whatsoever to worry about little old me.”

  “Fine,” Austin said, wincing and holding his side again. “I think you broke my god damn rib, you shithead.”

  Ross’ fake grin widened. As the last piece of his heart that he kept reserved for Evelyn and what they had shared, briefly, a few months ago, broke off and disappeared in the void, leaving him completely empty.

  Chapter Five

  Ross stood slowly stretching out the kinks in his lower back with a slight groan. The brewery floor was busy, as always. The seeming chaos well controlled. He would know. He controlled it.

  He dropped the wrench into the toolbox, then wiped the already spotless exterior of the small fermentation vessel down with a cloth, taking a moment to admire his handiwork. He’d discovered the pilot system in one of the many semi-abandoned areas of the brewery, sitting alone among stacks of boxes full of old marketing crap and outdated six-pack holders. After about an hour’s worth of tinkering inside the empty space, he’d decided to haul it out, fix it for real and put it to use.

  “What the fuck is that?” his super-encouraging boss asked as he rolled it into the main brewery space.

  “What does it look like?” Ross quipped, giving the connections and tubing a once-over.

  “Allow me to be more specific,” Brad insisted, his voice taking on the tightness Ross recognized well by now. “Why the fuck are you screwing around with a twenty-year-old pilot system while there is real beer to brew in here? You know, that job? That I over pay you for?”

  Ross allowed the silence in the wake of that dig grow. Ever since he’d returned from Michigan, resumed his po
sition as head brewer of one of the most successful, still-independent craft breweries in the nation, he’d played a little game with his annoying boss. And with himself. Something that required a lot of self-control on his part.

  Which was all part of his New Improved Ross. Self-control was now his middle name.

  He hummed around, poking and prodding and disconnecting the dirty rubber tubes, pondering what he wanted to do with the system, which was like his huge brew-house, only in miniature. It was how test brews used to get made, before Brad simply started laying out recipes and handing them to Ross with orders for a thousand barrels of this or fifteen hundred barrels of that. Most of which Ross had to adjust in order for the beer to be drinkable.

  The five-liter system was high quality, as he’d expect with a guy like Brad. Even starting out he had nothing but the best, given the deep pocketed investors he’d conned into writing him huge checks. The fact that the three thousand dollars-worth of stainless steel had been sitting and literally rotting in an ignored corner of the successful brewery didn’t surprise Ross in the slightest. Brad was the sort of guy to simply toss something like this aside and forget it. Which is what he’d done, considering the condition of the thing—eroded rubber connecting tubes and all.

  “Are you deaf?”

  Ross glanced up from his busy work, having forgotten the man was still standing there, fuming. “Sorry?” he said, muttering ‘not sorry’ under his breath as he tossed the tubes into the garbage bin he’d dragged over all while ignoring his boss.

  “Jesus, fucking, humped-up Christ,” Brad blurted out, making a couple of the scurrying assistant brewers stop and stare at him. Their boss’s temper tantrums were legendary. Ross couldn’t wait to provoke another one. But he waved the young men along. They had a lot to do to meet the demand. All in a day’s work.

  Luckily, or not, Brad’s phone buzzed. With another curse, he yanked it out of his pocket. When his face broke into a goofy grin, Ross realized his opportunity to provoke had passed. And he knew why. Only one thing would turn Brad Jefferson into a moony teenager.