Chapter 10

Shepherd

Fuck. I hate when I forget things and have to drive all the way back to the brewery. Tonight, I've forgotten to email out the nightly reports. Sure, I could wait until morning, but I know Callum. He's a workhorse who expects everyone else to be as well. If those reports aren't in his inbox by the time he checks it, I'll never hear the end of it. The drive back is long and tedious, each mile feeling like a reminder of my oversight.

By the time I finally arrive back home, it's late—really late. The kind of late where the streets are deserted, and the only sounds are the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze. Felicity's light is on, a warm glow in the otherwise dark neighborhood. I don't bother going over there, even though there's a small part of me that wants to see her again. Who am I kidding? There's a huge part of me that longs to see her, to talk to her, to be near her.

I keep my head down as I slip up my front porch, glancing over at her house before heading into mine. That fucking boyfriend of hers is there, knocking on her door, and for some reason, I find myself wanting to stick around for the show. Maybe I like torturing myself, or maybe it's because I hate the guy. There's something about him that rubs me the wrong way, and it's more than just jealousy.

I sit in the shadows, watching and waiting. When Felicity finally opens her door, there's a scowl written so clearly all over her face. I can't hear what they're saying, but it's obvious she's not happy. It makes my lips lift slightly into a smirk. She parks her hands on her curvy hips, her posture radiating anger and defiance. She speaks to him sharply, and he backs up, looking chastised. Next thing I know, she's slamming the door in his face.

Serves him right.

He stomps over to where his little Camry is parked, his face a mask of frustration and anger. Our eyes meet, and I nod my head at him, a silent acknowledgment of his defeat. He doesn't nod back. In fact, he appears even angrier at the sight of me, like I'm the one responsible for his troubles. I laugh it off as I head back inside my house.

I've got a busy day at the brewery tomorrow, and I don't need Felicity's love life keeping me awake. But as I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, I can't help but replay the scene over and over in my mind. There's a part of me that wishes I could be the one she turns to, the one she smiles at instead of scowls. For now, though, all I can do is focus on my work and try to keep my feelings in check.

The next morning I'm up and out of my house before the sun has completely risen. It's going to be a long day, and I'm ready for it.

Anya's booked a party for tonight, so I need to make sure she's got everything she needs. Callum's like the general manager of the brewery and restaurant, and I'm his assistant. I make sure day-to-day operations are taken care of. I schedule all employees, minus the kitchen—that's Griffin's job, and make sure the ordering of all supplies is taken care of. I do inventory. Handle meetings with liquor reps. Hell, there's nothing I don't do.

"How's everything going in the kitchen?" I ask Griffin, thankful he's the head chef and runs a tight ship. Griffin's been a family friend of ours for years. I think he was at our house more than his own growing up. Now he's just confessed his love for my only sister, Anya, and although it took Callum a little while to be completely on board about their relationship, I couldn't be happier.

I couldn't have picked anyone better for my baby sister.

Griffin smiles at me. "Everything's ready to go."

We've been so busy since we hosted a party for the Mayor and other town officials. We've gotten some publicity with the local news stations, and the tourism reports. It's helped boost sales a lot, even though the actual event had a few bumps and bruises. But in true Atwood fashion, we made sure we pulled the party together in the end, and the Mayor was so happy.

Thank God.

I continue checking on things in the brewery, making sure the iPads at the front hostess stand are charged and ready for the day.

I head into my office, double checking the reservations for the day, and then I head into the brewery.

Brock is there, checking gauges on the barrels, making sure the beer is brewing properly. He gives me a thumb up. "Hey Shep, how's it going?"

I nod, turning the sound system on with a touch of a button from my phone. "Looking good. We still have that single malt aging?"

Brock nods. "Yeah, hey listen, I was wondering if we could maybe hire somebody to help me out down here. I feel like lately I've been running a one-man show down here."

"I'll have to check the numbers." With the pick up of sales, we might be able to add another employee to the brewery department to help Brock out.

When we first opened the brewery, Callum and I would help brew the beers, but now we're just too busy to even make a single batch of anything.

Callum works more hours than me, and even he doesn't have the time to help out. Our cups are running to the brim.

"I was thinking about seeing if Tripp wants to help out. He'll be graduating soon, and maybe he'll want to come on full time here," Brock says.

Tripp, our youngest brother, works at the brewery helping out here and there. Mainly running food and bussing tables.

"Yeah, I'll ask him. I'll check with Callum too."

I start to walk away, but Brock stops me in my tracks with his next words.

"Millie told me that she heard Helena's daughter is pregnant."

I shrug. "So? Who's that?"

Brock nods at me. "Isn't Helena's daughter your neighbor? Felicity, something or other."

"Felicity's pregnant?" I say out loud, although my voice sounds muffled. Like I'm speaking to him under water.

Brock shrugs. "I guess she's pretty serious with that guy. They're going to have a baby."

I shake my head, trying to clear my head. Is this true?

"Who's pregnant?" Anya asks, walking up on our conversation.

"Felicity," Brock says. "Millie told me. I guess Felicity's mom was talking about it at book club. She's due in like August, or September."

I rub at the back of my neck, trying not to appear to be too affected. "That's cool for them." I want to flee from this conversation. My eyesight is narrowing and my breathing is heavy. Like I can't catch my breath.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Why can't I fucking breathe? So what? Felicity and her stupid boyfriend, or fiancé, or whatever are going to have a baby together.

They'll be a happy family.

Who cares? Not me.

My mood sours when my mind flashes with a fantasy of Felicity carrying my child. Her and I raising a family together.

"Are you okay?" Callum asks, getting caught up with the conversation. "You don't look so hot," he says to me.

"I don't feel so hot." Anger ignites deep inside me at the news. I hate how affected I am by all of this.

Now my mind's playing out different scenarios. Me passing her on the street with her baby in a stroller. Her stupid man playing catch in the backyard with their son. Her popping out more children in the future, happily married to that asshole.

I want to be that asshole.

"I'll be right back," I say, rushing away from my family, making my way toward the closest bathroom. I head inside, thankful I'm alone.

I splash some cool water on my face, staring at myself in the mirror. What is wrong with me?

The news of Felicity's pregnancy is hitting me hard, and right now it's nothing more than a rumor.

A part of me wants to ask her flat out. But it's really none of my business, and I need to just drop it. I need to forget about the one special night we shared over Christmas.

That was ages ago.

I head back out, and all of my siblings stare back at me, minus Tripp because he's not here. "What?" I ask them as they blink at me.

"I don't know if you math well, but…" Paxton's words fall away as his green eyes meet mine. Paxton's younger than me by a year. He's also the one who travels around from city to city getting our beer in other restaurants. The man's a selling genius, and apparently a math genius too.

"Math what?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

Anya laughs lightly. "Shep, you and her, back at Christmas, and she's due in September. Don't you see?"

"See what?" I ask. "You all are starting to freak me out. What am I missing?"

And then it hits me like a ton of bricks. The math.

The nine month math.

"You think the baby might be mine?" I ask them, each of them smiling back at me.

"I think you and she need to have a talk," Callum says, slapping his hand down on my shoulder. "Dad," he adds on before walking away.

Dad?

Am I going to be a father?

But Felicity acts like she hates me. And what about the asshole? Is he the father?

Am I?

I guess there's really only one way to find out. Tonight when I get off work I need to pay my neighbor a little visit.