Samantha
I was trying not to think about him.
Trying not to completely lose my mind with anxiety and panic.
I tried to focus on my task of shelving new books, so I didn’t have to worry about Ryan being back in town.
Having slipped several books into place, I stepped off my stepladder and grabbed my cart of tomes, dragging it to the next grouping of shelves that needed replenishing. What was I going to do? When Jason had told me he was inviting Ryan, I’d hid my anxiety from him, but I’d been a nervous mess ever since. A part of me had known this would happen one day, but I’d hoped I’d have some idea of what to do before then.
If Ryan was in the wedding, he was going to find out about Henry. Ryan wasn’t an idiot. He’d be able to put two-and-two together. I needed to figure out some explanation, some excuse to keep Ryan from figuring out the truth.
If Ryan found out he had a son and that I’d kept Henry from him, he would be furious. Then, of course, my family would find out. Jason would hate me and would probably kill Ryan. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and I had no idea how to deal with the fallout.
As I was overthinking and mindlessly stacking books, feeling almost nauseous with anxious worry, the bell on the front door rang, indicating a customer had entered the store.
“Good morning,” I called out, putting my stack of books down. “How can I help you…?”
I turned around, and my words died on her tongue.
Ryan stood just inside the doorway. I was stunned, frozen in place, unable to fully process that he was actually there, staring back at me.
He was even more gorgeous than he’d been seven years ago. How was that possible?
My heart immediately began to race, and I lost my breath.
Memories of our one night together flooded my mind, and my body grew eager and hot, as though it had only been yesterday.
I hated to admit how much I’d yearned for his touch over the years and how many times I’d woken up sweating and on the verge of orgasm because I’d been dreaming of him.
Beyond my body’s immediate reaction to him, what shook me to the core was how much Henry looked like him. I’d always known my son bore a striking resemblance to his father, but seeing Ryan face-to-face after so much time was shocking.
Over the years, I’d convinced myself that Henry only kind of looked like Ryan, which was why no one else seemed to connect the two together. But Ryan’s dark hair was thick and wavy just like Henry’s, and his stunning, blue eyes were identical to his son’s. I’d been staring into those eyes every day since Henry’s birth. No one would be able to deny Ryan and Henry’s connection if they saw the two of them together.
It took several moments, but the worst of my shock slowly began to wear off.
In its place burned a long-tempered rage as well as a gut-wrenching guilt. I felt overwhelmed by my dueling emotions and spun around, intent on getting away from him. I didn’t say a word. Couldn’t without risking going off on him. He’d left me seven years ago, so it was only fair that I leave him now.
Ryan, of course, wasn’t willing to let me get away so easily.
“Samantha,” he snapped. “You and I need to talk.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” I replied sharply, continuing my march toward the back of the store.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he said. “I know about your son.”
I came to a stumbling stop. My heart raced, and I fought to maintain my composure. No, no, this couldn’t be happening. It was all just a bad dream. It couldn’t be real. This interaction was the nightmare I’d always feared would come true.
Taking a deep breath, I schooled my features into a mask of indifference and slowly turned around to face him.
“What about him?” I asked cooly.
Ryan stared at me with narrowed eyes for several seconds before repeating, “You have a son.”
I nodded. “Yes, I do.”
He hesitated a moment more before murmuring, “Is he mine?”
“No,” I said, the lie falling from my mouth before I realized what I was saying. Shit, no, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t want to lie to him, but I didn’t know how to explain the situation. Ryan had been long gone when I’d realized I was pregnant, and I was young, stupid and heartbroken, so I didn’t try to reach out to him. As I got older and knew better, I’d felt too scared and guilty. He had his own life, and I worried what his reaction would be if I suddenly thrust Henry into the middle of it.
He clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing with irritation.
“I don’t believe you,” he stated.