Finding Ronan’s Heart by Melanie Moreland

Chapter Sixteen

Beth

Iknew there was no point in going to the library. I walked home in a daze, my thoughts on a continuous loop in my head. I had been such a fool. Again. I had fallen for Ronan’s act. The sweet, helpful guy. Just the average Joe.

Except he was anything but.

I slipped in the side door, hoping Paige would be on the phone, but she was coming down the hall, looking surprised to see me.

“I thought you were heading to the library?” she asked, a laundry basket perched on her hip.

My sunglasses hid my eyes, and I cleared my throat before I spoke, hoping my voice sounded normal.

“I got a wicked headache. I’m going to lie down for a while,” I croaked, but it was easily explained by the headache pain. Paige seemed to buy it anyway.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. Want a cup of tea or something?”

“No, just some quiet and dark.”

“You take all the time you need. We’ll have an easy supper—unless you’re seeing Ronan later?”

Hearing his name made my heart lurch. “No,” I managed to get out.

“Okay. Go rest. I’ll make sure Evan is doing his homework.” She shooed me downstairs, and I shut the door behind me, dropping my bag and burying my face into my hands. I summoned my strength and stumbled to the bed, falling in. The scent of Ronan hit me as I rolled—his masculine and rich cologne clinging to the sheets.

I buried my face into the linens and let the tears come. Ronan would never lie beside me again. I would never feel his strong body moving with mine, hear his whispered words of adoration. Feel his protective embrace or listen to the steady beat of his heart under my ear as I fell asleep.

It had all been a lie—one I’d fallen for, hook, line, and sinker. And now I had to start again.

* * *

I woke up, my eyes burning and dry. I washed my face and used some Visine to clear the red still lingering in my eyes. I couldn’t do anything about the weariness I could see in my face, but I hoped it would be explained by the headache. I brushed my hair, trying not to think about the fact that Ronan loved to run his fingers through my curls. I was surprised to find it was past seven and I had slept for four hours.

It was quiet upstairs. Paige was on the phone, and she waved as I peeked around the corner then went to check on Evan. He was in his room, Lucy sitting beside him. They were building something, using the kits Ronan had brought over. I wasn’t sure how I was going to tell Evan he had to pack them up so they could be returned, but I decided not to say anything just yet. Given what I had seen today, Ronan could easily afford to replace any amount of Lego he wanted.

“Hey, munchkins,” I said, trying to sound cheerful.

They looked up, happy to see me, but Evan frowned. “You okay, Beth? Paige said you were sick.”

I ruffled his hair. “Just a headache. Too much time on the computer and poring over books. It’s better.”

“You look, um, tired.”

Tired, I could work with. I was glad he hadn’t identified the real reason for my pale face and red eyes. “Headaches wear me out. I’ll be good as gold in the morning. Did you have supper?”

He nodded, and Lucy piped up. “Grill cheese!”

“Mmm,” I hummed.

“You gonna eat?” asked Evan, looking at me far too closely.

“Yep. I’m starving,” I fibbed. “You guys keep building.”

He nodded. “I can hardly wait to show Ronan. I combined three sets and made something totally new. He is gonna freak out.”

My heart lurched. “Ah, he got called out of town,” I lied again. “He won’t be back until next week.”

“Oh.” He frowned then shrugged. “You can take a picture and send it to him, right?”

I swallowed and stood. “Sure.”

That satisfied him. “He’ll still like it. I might have to tell him everything I did, so let me know before you send the text.”

“I’ll do that.”

In the kitchen, I looked at the plate in the refrigerator, knowing I wouldn’t be able to eat the grilled cheese Paige had ready for me to cook. I wasn’t sure it would stay down. She came into the kitchen, looking at me critically.

“Headache still there?”

“A bit.”

“I was going to go grab some milk at the corner store. Want me to get you anything?”

“Shit, I forgot.” I was supposed to pick up milk earlier.

“No biggie.”

“I’ll go. The fresh air will do me good.”

And it would get me away from Paige’s watchful gaze. She knew me too well, and I wasn’t up to talking to her about what happened. I hadn’t assimilated it all yet.

“Okay. I’ll give Lucy her bath. Maybe you’ll feel like eating when you get home.”

I forced a smile. “I’m sure I will.”

* * *

The next night, I wiped down the last table. The diner had been busy, which I was grateful for. I had avoided Paige the night before, talking to Evan and helping him with his homework. While she was putting Lucy to bed, I slipped downstairs and shut my door, and she didn’t bother me at all, no doubt thinking I had gone back to bed.

I sat up most of the night, going through everything in my head. All the signs I had missed. The evasion of my questions. Ronan’s lack of sharing about his job or the company he worked for. I had seen the signs and ignored them. Paige had questioned his clothes and the car he drove. I felt like a fool as I looked up the make on the internet and saw the price tab. He always had lots of money in his wallet. I looked up BAM, shocked at how easily I had been fooled. Ronan’s family was one of the wealthiest in the city. The company he said he worked for, ABC, was owned by BAM. There was a picture of the business partners online. Ronan was one-third of a set of triplets. He stood beside his brothers, and I could easily pick him out. He was slightly taller and broader than the other two, and even in my anger, I could see a difference in his expression. He was more serious-looking than the other two. The rest of the company varied in ages, but I guessed them all between mid-twenties and early thirties. The article talked about the vast talent of the group and their already impressive resumé of holdings and businesses.

What else could one expect from the offspring of the BAM boys?the article stated.

I looked at the group picture, then like a martyr, scrolled through other pictures I found on the web. I recognized the silver-haired man I had seen as Maddox Riley and the stern-looking one as Bentley Ridge. I had no problem picking out Ronan’s dad. He was large and imposing, usually standing next to Bentley in all the pictures. Unable to help myself, I read their history and all about the company. It was fascinating, and I found myself wishing I had heard it directly from Ronan. Tears coursed down my face as I looked at some pictures of him. There were surprisingly few. He had told me once he wasn’t big on social media. He had no Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter accounts. The pictures I found were related to the company and a few of him with his parents or business partners at charity functions. I couldn’t help but notice he was always a step or two away from the group, and I wondered why, then shook my head. It was none of my business anymore.

I took a deep breath to clear my thoughts, wiping the errant tear that ran down my cheek. I needed to stop thinking about him. I finished tidying up and headed to the kitchen. We had been especially busy with cake sales in the diner, and I needed to make some to keep up with demand. I tried not to think about the fact that the past few weeks Ronan had been with me while I made them, making the process easier and fun. There would be no singing helper tonight, no drugging kisses, and no slumbering car ride home with a large hand wrapped around mine.

Sighing, I got to work, measuring, mixing, and baking. I slid the first batch into the oven and prepped the second batch. I checked the time, shaking my head. I was slow tonight, and I would be here late. I went to the front and checked the book where Mike kept the outside cake orders. Unable to help myself, I checked the older ones, seeing the big burst in sales had been because of Ronan. ABC Corp and BAM had bought a lot of cakes the past few weeks, although there were a few other orders. There was an order from ABC for Friday, and I assumed Ronan hadn’t gotten around to canceling it yet, but I was sure he would. Except his love of the cakes was real, and perhaps he still planned on ordering them. I shut the book, half tempted to tell Mike the cakes weren’t available to anyone at ABC, but I resisted. The extra money let me buy Evan new sneakers and jeans. He was outgrowing his pants and shoes fast these days, and I didn’t want him to wear ill-fitting clothes. I knew he already had enough to contend with at school without giving the kids more ammunition.

It was past two when I left the diner. It was cool with a slight drizzle outside, and I shivered. Outside, a car waited, its engine running. For a moment, my heart was in my throat, thinking it was Ronan, but an older man climbed out of the driver’s seat.

“Beth Jones?”

“Yes?” I responded apprehensively.

“I’m Wayne. I was hired to drive you home.”

“Hired?” Suspicion clouded my mind. “By whom?”

“Mike Chalmers—your boss. Did he forget to tell you? He assured me he had texted you.”

I checked my phone, scrolling through messages. Sure enough, a text had come through a few hours ago from Mike that I had missed, telling me from now on I would get driven home on any night I stayed late to bake cakes and my driver’s name was Wayne. Why he had decided this, I had no idea, and I shook off my doubt—I was too tired to question it tonight.

“Great,” I said, smiling as he opened the back door. I slid into the warm car gratefully.

“Have you been waiting long?” I asked as he pulled away from the curb.

“I got here about one. I saw the lights on, so I knew you were there.”

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting. I had more cakes to make than usual.”

He waved off my concern. “I have coffee and puzzles. I’m used to it. I’ll give you my cell number, and you can call me tomorrow about half an hour before you’re ready to go.”

I hummed in agreement and watched as the streetlights flashed through the windows. I tucked my coat collar a little closer, fighting back the wave of disappointment. Of course Ronan wouldn’t be here to drive me home. I told him to stay away. That was what I wanted.

I ignored the little voice of disappointment in my head that questioned my decision.

* * *

It was Friday morning before Paige confronted me. Evan had left, Lucy was off to day care, and Paige sat across from me. “What’s going on?” she asked, her blue eyes concerned. “Don’t tell me you’re busy or studying too hard. Something is up.”

I looked at the table and my hands that seemed to tremble all the time. “Ronan,” I began, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat. “We’re done.”

She reached across the table and covered my hands. “Oh, sweetie. What happened?”

“He lied.”

“About?”

“Everything.” With a sigh, I told her what happened. By the end of my short story, she was shaking her head.

“He seemed so honest. So open.”

I laughed. “I know. And the bottom line is, I should have pushed more. Made him talk to me. But I let him divert my attention. I was nothing but a distraction.”

“Did he say that?”

“No. But it reeks of Carson. Rich family. Not being good enough,” I confessed.

“He never came across that way. But I’m sorry he hurt you.”

I wiped at the tears that kept coming, no matter how hard I tried to stop them.

“You miss him.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it.”

“He meant something to you.”

“Yes, he did. But if I can’t trust him, it means nothing.”

“You don’t want to give him a chance to explain?”

“I’m not sure. I need time.”

“I get that. But think about it, Beth. You both seemed so happy. I can’t believe that wasn’t real—for either of you.”

“That’s why it hurts so much,” I admitted.

She stood and hugged me. “I know. I’m here if you need me. You should talk about it. About him. It might help.”

“Maybe in a couple of days.”

“Okay. I’m here anytime.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“Have you told Evan?”

“I will on Sunday. He is going to be upset. Lucy will too.”

She tilted her head, studying me. “Funny how quickly we all fell for him.”

“Yeah, he had that effect.”

She frowned and nodded. “Yes, he did.”

* * *

Evan looked confused. “You broke up?”

I nodded, tamping down my reaction. I was shocked how emotional I was still. I couldn’t stop thinking about Ronan. All the wonderful things he did. His touch. His laugh. The way he would watch me. His terrible, off-key but enthusiastic singing voice.

“It just didn’t work out, Evan.”

“I liked him.”

“I know. He liked you a lot.”

“You too,” he insisted. “He told me how much he liked you. Did you have a fight? Maybe you could just say sorry and it would be okay?”

My heart ached, and I felt the anger I had been looking for flare a little. I hated the fact that Evan was going to hurt now as well.

“It’s more complicated than that. I’m sorry.”

He looked down, and I was shocked to see tears in his eyes when he glanced back up. “Are you okay, Beth?”

“I will be.”

“I guess I have to give back his Lego stuff. I’ll pack them up.” He sighed. “He’ll never see what I made with them.”

“I will take them to his office next week. You can use them for a few more days.”

“Maybe—if it’s okay—maybe you can take a picture? He might want to see it.”

I ruffled his hair and bent to kiss his forehead. “Sure, I can do that.”

I couldn’t promise him Ronan would look at it. But if it made Evan happy, I would do that for him.

“Want to go for ice cream later?” I asked.

He shook his head, his voice subdued. “Maybe another time.”

“Okay.” I paused at his bedroom room. “Hey, Evan. It’s going to be fine. We were good before, and we’ll be good again.”

He nodded, offering me a small smile before he turned away.

I had a feeling neither of us believed those words.