by Karen Rock
The old man’s helter-skelter eyebrows lowered, and he shook his head. “You might be fooling yourselves, but I watched you two on the hike up here. You’re not pulling the wool over my eyes. Been married to my childhood sweetheart for over fifty years. We were friends for ten years before that. I know a thing or two about love.” He contemplated them for a long moment, then ambled away, leaning on a cane.
The lacy overhang of an exotic tree filtered the light, leaving Niall’s eyes in shadow. The deep green of the leaves contrasted with the butterflies flitting from branch to branch, sipping from the tree’s pale blossoms. It was a living kaleidoscope, and suddenly she felt dizzy watching it, and him. Did he think the older man was crazy? The lower half of Niall’s face looked serious, his mouth in a firm, straight line. Was he considering the gentleman’s suggestions? He certainly wasn’t laughing at it.
As for her, she didn’t know how to feel. Did the stranger sense what she’d been trying to hide, even from herself? Her feelings for Niall no longer seemed casual. They ran into deeper waters than she was ready to test. Yet there was no denying the butterflies she felt in her stomach whenever she was around Niall.
“Let’s find a spot to sit and go over those marketing results,” he said, coming no closer. A curl of wind brought in the sweet smell of summer grass and the sound of rustling leaves.
“Sounds good.” She strove to keep the disappointment out of her voice. They were here for business. Nothing more. So why, then, did she want to linger in this bucolic setting with him, explore the surprises hidden in the garden’s nooks and crannies, rather than tally up data?
“The viewing pavilion is over the bridge.” She pointed to a wooden structure across the pond. “It’s shady, and since it’s a weekday, should be fairly quiet.”
“Lead the way.”
Her scuffling sandals on the wooden planks were the only sound as they crossed over the earthen-colored water. All felt serene, her restless heart settling, until a child scampered by, chased by a stroller-wielding father, a red balloon streaming behind them. She dodged, too late, and tottered when the boy careened into her. Before she lost her balance, a firm hand cupped her elbow, steadying her, and she peeked up at Niall.
Niall. He was always there to catch her before she fell. Affection for her old friend, now partner, rushed through her as she met his concerned copper-hued eyes, the bright light bringing out their gold specks. She’d spent so much of her life wishing for things that would never come true. That her parents wouldn’t divorce, that she’d grow taller, that Chris would come home safe and that she’d see Niall again.
And here he was. Him and not him. Echoes of the boy he’d been mixing with the man he’d become. And while much of that version at first had seemed negative, seeing him with her nephew, the assisted-living facility folks and his family, was changing her mind. It made a case for her heart to trust itself. He could be her old friend again...so why wasn’t she content with that? Some restless part of her demanded more, as impossible as it was.
They neared the open-sided building at the water’s edge and Niall’s hand dropped from her elbow.
“So you finished the study we discussed last week?” At her nod, he continued, “How many people participated?” Niall’s hair slid across his forehead as he studied the hand that had held her before dropping it to his side.
“Two hundred and twenty-six.” A bit of pride wove through her voice as she sat on the built-in bench that ran along all three sides of the pavilion. It was a decent market sample, especially for initial data analysis. She smiled to herself at the thought, then sobered when she remembered their urgent need for a financial backer. None of this research would matter if they didn’t get funds.
When Niall peered out across the pond, the slanting sun outlined his chiseled profile. “What are the demographics?”
She took out her laptop, and the machine whirred to life while she pulled some numbers from her memory.
“I sampled from three age groups. The first, which comprises approximately fifty percent of our participants, are aged sixty-five and over.”
Niall nodded. “MaryAnne mentioned that your grandfather organized some discussions and went door-to-door to collect questionnaires.”
“He calls himself our CEO. And my number one fan.” She smiled at the thought, then glanced up from her screen to catch Niall’s intense look.
“I believe it.” He stretched sculpted arms on either side of him. “Family’s important.”
She winced inside, remembering how she’d always thought of Niall as her brother. Yet the term no longer seemed to fit given her confusing new feelings for him.
She pulled the heavy mass of hair off her neck and swirled it into a loose bun. “The remainder is split at twenty-five percent in the eighteen-to-thirty-five and thirty-six-to-sixty-four age groups.”
Niall whistled, impressed. “So you were able to use the social media sites you’d mentioned?”
A yellow-and-gray bird flew into the pavilion and perched on a vaulted rafter. It opened its beak and cocked its head, as if joining the conversation. “Yes, and some in-person work at events this week.”
Niall lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t mention those.”
She rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say I went to a lot of speed-dating events, cafés and singles clubs. And the self-help section in the bookstores was also very useful.”
“Speed dating? Singles clubs?” Niall’s brows crashed together.
For some reason, Kayleigh felt apologetic. Why did he look angry? “With no funds, I had to get creative.”
Niall scowled. “I don’t want you going to those. They’re—they’re fake environments with unreliable data. And we’re supposed to make all business decisions together.”
“True. It’s just that Gianna offered to take me, and I couldn’t pass up the chance to get free research. But, Niall.” She laid a hand on his arm, then withdrew it when a strange look crossed his face. “We can’t run any marketing events, promote or manufacture the product without financial backing. Creativity only gets us so far. Major Carlton and next week’s meeting are our last hope.”
His expression hardened. “I heard from the major.”
Excitement rushed through her. The man had been a condescending jerk, but if he was willing to back their product, she’d never think a bad thought about him again.
“And—”
Niall blew out a long breath. “And he offered me a job, but passed on High Dive Enterprises.”
Her shoulders fell. With only one meeting remaining, there was a real chance the start-up would fold. Then she’d know she shouldn’t have left the shallow end of the pool after all.
The rest of Niall’s words replayed in her mind, and sour doubt settled in her gut. She might be about to lose him, too.
“What kind of job?”
“Setting up internet-protection systems for the city police department, managing their communications and so on. They have a new contract and need someone to head it for them. Look, let’s focus on High Dive.” He ran a hand through his hair, then dropped it back to the rail.
But she couldn’t let it go. “How much did they offer you?”
“It doesn’t matter, Kayleigh. Tell me more about your findings.” He peered at the computer screen until she lowered it.
“It does matter.” Her heart plummeted when she imagined him leaving for a better opportunity. Yet she wouldn’t hold him to a doomed partnership.
“If this is a better opportunity for you, then you should take it,” she made herself say, despite the burning in her chest. Her mind ran over the salaries the GSI IT guys had confessed to earning. “I bet Major Carlton offered you six figures.”
Niall’s eyes slid from hers, and his shoulders lifted and fell. “We signed our LLC partnership agreement. There’s nothing more to
discuss.”
Her eyes widened. Since he didn’t deny it, she must be right. “You turned him down?”
“Our start-up is a better option for me.” His eyes bored into hers, and she found it hard to swallow. He’d said our. Somehow it made him seem more invested than ever.
“From a business perspective,” he amended.
“But we don’t even have financing.”
He stilled her fidgeting hands, his fingers lacing with hers for an electric moment. “We will, Kay. Have faith. And I’m not going anywhere.”
A rush of wetness made her squeeze her eyes shut. Relief, joy and hope jockeyed inside. He had a guaranteed, six-figure-income offer, and he was choosing to take a gamble on her. She couldn’t begin to measure how much that meant to her. He supported her, something Brett had never done.
“Now, if you look at this screen, it’s a rundown of the most popular traits. I’ve cross-referenced them with their ethnic, social class and age demographics.”
His face was so close to hers, she could feel the faint prickle of hair along his jawline. After several minutes, his chest rising and falling beside hers, his eyes running left to right, he finished clicking through the screens and looked up.
“The most common Must Trait for seniors is ‘Adventurous’?”
She bit her lower lip to keep herself from smiling at his shocked expression. “Makes sense to me. Don’t you remember them in the pool?”
He rubbed his chin, his expression thoughtful. “They were having a good time.” He tapped the computer screen. “And you proved that people do value partners who are open.”
“Of course they do.” She folded her arms across her chest, happy that he’d seen this all-important trait affirmed.
“Over seventy percent of participants want a partner who has that trait. Good thing I didn’t bet you,” he teased.
She placed her hands on her hips. “What would I have won?”
“Told-you-so rights.”
She sucked in her cheeks. That had been a coveted prize...when they were kids. “I’d rather have you make a Must Traits list.
“Oh...um—” His gaze flew around the space as if he was searching for an escape route. “Did I mention I was taking Josh to my dojang?”
“I heard.” She smiled at him. “Josh talks about it nonstop. Thank you for that. Smooth change of topic, by the way.”
He shrugged, looking sheepish. “The kid needs to get away from those video games and do something positive. It’s no big deal.”
“It’s a huge deal. Until you offered, he’d turned down every one of Beth’s suggestions.”
“It’s nothing. Glad to do it. Now, let’s get back to the research.” His index finger began scrolling through the screens again.
“Of course.” She sighed, glad for Josh, for Niall and for herself. Things were precarious financially, but if he could help her nephew control his temper, it was worth a hundred failed start-ups.
“So what exactly do you think seniors mean by ‘Adventurous’?” He raised his brows, and the gleam in his eyes was so attractive, she stared. “Bingo past 8:00 p.m.?”
She pictured Annette Larson’s red shoe in Gramps’s couch. “If it was strip Bingo...”
His mouth dropped open.
“Oh, it’s not over until it’s over.” She grinned and tabbed down a few more spaces. “See. They also ranked the traits ‘In Shape,’ ‘Healthy’ and ‘Spontaneous’ highly, too.”
“So you’re saying senior residents are on the emotional dating wavelength of middle-school kids?”
She shook her head. “No. Just that after surviving everything they have, they’re looking for some fun. Isn’t that the point of living? Of making it through hard times? To appreciate the life you’ve been given? What you have left?”
He returned her significant stare, but his eyes seemed to look more inward than outward. She hoped he was thinking about his own life and considering not wasting it by being so reclusive.
“The middle-aged groups are interested in ‘Loyalty,’ ‘Honesty,’ ‘Morality’...” he spoke into the silence.
“That makes sense. Many have gone through breakups and even divorces.” She paused and pulled down the hem of her shorts. “They want guarantees that they won’t deal with that hurt again.” She could relate.
He relocated a caterpillar undulating across his leg and looked up. “There are no guarantees, Kayleigh.”
She moved restlessly under his scrutiny. That was the point of her app. Besides making money to support herself and Beth, and proving that she was more than an ideas person, she wanted guarantees—for herself and others. It bugged her that Niall didn’t get that. Sure, the concept was a bit simplistic and unsophisticated to use on its own. But it could be another piece of the puzzle that helped singles make sense of their love lives.
“This app will come as close to a guarantee as possible.” She powered down her laptop. “People will know, up-front, that they want the same things, that they’re compatible.”
“Unlike your parents.”
His quiet words cut her. He remembered the reason for her parents’ divorce.
“It’s not the whole story, but sure, a compatibility score might have made them look closer at their relationship. Steered them in different directions.”
“Then they wouldn’t have had you.”
The skin on her arms rose in small bumps. That was exactly what she’d once said to her mother.
Niall’s eyes searched hers, and he covered her hand with his. “Good things can come out of bad.”
She leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder, so close that she could hear him breathe. His hand toyed with a curl beside her cheek, the feeling too intimate to be right, yet she couldn’t move away. How many times had they been this close, as friends, and she’d felt nothing? She wished for those days back.
“We still need to do what we can to help people make informed decisions, especially when their choices affect others.” She thought of Chris’s sudden decision to enlist after their family had fallen apart. If her parents had stayed together, would he have become a Green Beret and died?
Niall stood and shoved his hands into his pockets, his body tense. “Agreed. It’s better to prevent problems than cause them.”
“Then why won’t you make a Must Traits list? If you ever meet someone, don’t you want to know if there’ll be problems in the future?”
He stopped pacing and looked down at her. “Sometimes you just know when it’s right.”
She shoved her computer case into her purple tote and stood. Once again, he was running down the very product he was programming. Their product. “If you’re so sure of yourself, then why are you hiding out in your apartment? Not spending time with anyone?”
“I don’t need to be around other people,” he said drily, his gaze never leaving hers. “Except you.”
Heated blood rushed through her. That was treacherous thinking—for both of them. “But if you used the app, you’d find the right girlfriend. Want to be with her. You can’t waste your time on someone like me. I’ll never be more than a friend.”
He closed the distance between them in one stride and eyed her. “Sure about that?”
And suddenly, he pulled her into his arms, his strong body enfolding her. His lips lowered then paused, his heated eyes questioning. Was he waiting for her to refuse him?
Her bones melted against him, and her resolve to keep things professional crumbled. She wanted this kiss as badly as she’d ever wanted anything. She stretched up on her tiptoes and heard him groan as his lips swept down and captured hers, the caress as feather soft as the dragonfly’s wings.
He pulled the band around her bun loose, and her hair tumbled down her back, his hands burying themselves in it. When he deepened their kiss, hi
s mouth slanting firmly against hers, her skin heated. Their hearts pounded together, and she breathed in his minty breath, tasting the strawberries they’d eaten earlier. Wanting him closer, she traced his bunching back muscles, loving their hardness and strength.
When his lips left hers and traveled along her jaw, she fitted herself against him closer still, needing to feel all of him. As his lips slid along her earlobe then down her neck, the world tilted and spun madly in the wrong direction.
She cupped his face and brought it back to hers, wanting his mouth again, the caress deepening into a demanding kiss that left her breathless and clutching on to his shoulders when her knees weakened.
At last he stopped, and they stared at each other, chests heaving, breath coming in fits and starts.
“Still sure?” he murmured, his eyes searching hers.
Struck dumb, she nodded automatically, her gesture making him scowl, disappointment in his eyes. When he strode out of the pavilion, her fingers traced her swollen lips.
How had she let that happen?
CHAPTER TWELVE
WHEN NIALL AND Josh entered his former martial arts academy, he removed his shoes and nudged the boy to do the same.
“Niall! Good to see you,” exclaimed Niall’s former sparring partner, Brennan, his voice low so as not to distract the students training in the dojang. He sat on a bench outside the training room, fanning himself with a towel.
“Same here. Just finished?” Niall pitched his voice low, as well. The students needed 100 percent focus. He scanned Brennan’s red face, watching the guy’s forehead bead with sweat as fast as he wiped it.
“Been here since six.” Brennan flipped the cap off his water bottle then gulped before leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “Haven’t seen you in years. Where you been?”
Niall stretched out his new prosthetic, still marveling at the articulated movement in his bionic Genium ankle and foot. After committing to Josh, he’d phoned his therapist and gone through with the measurements and fittings. He rotated his ankle, then flexed his foot. What a difference. His limp was about gone, but the changes felt deeper than that. Did he deserve it? He glanced at Josh. The kid needed his help. That was what mattered.