by BETH KERY
In a gut-punching type of way.
Brigit and Derry Kavanaugh had each engaged in an extramarital affair in the early stages of their marriage. Colleen’s sister, Deidre, was in truth her half sister. Finding out that Deidre wasn’t his biological daughter was what had instigated Derry’s extreme distress and intoxication on the night of the crash that had changed their lives forever.
Yes, Colleen was a bit jaded on the concept of marriage at the moment.
“So, you plan on a long engagement, Liam?” Colleen asked. “The two of you should have plenty of time to be sure about—”
Liam lifted his head and spoke, interrupting her. “We’re getting married December 14. We’ve already booked the date at Holy Name. We took the first day we could get.” He gave Natalie one last kiss, this one quick and tender, before he leaned back and took a swig of his soda. Both of them were grinning from ear to ear.
“It’ll be a Christmas wedding,” Natalie said to Colleen.
Since Natalie had started seeing Liam, she didn’t hide as much behind the dark glasses that helped to protect her light-sensitive eye. The glasses also covered the scars on her left temple—scars she’d received in the accident as a child. At the moment, the lighting in the waiting room was dim enough that Natalie wasn’t wearing her glasses. There might never have been a devastating car wreck sixteen years ago if Natalie’s shining eyes and joyous expression were any indication.
“Christmas. But it’s already almost Halloween,” Colleen exclaimed.
“We can’t wait a day longer,” Liam said.
Natalie leaned forward, looking concerned. “I know it’s probably a bit of a surprise. But Liam and I could really use both of your support and help in this. We don’t want a large wedding, but there will be a great deal to organize, I suppose.”
“I’ll do whatever I can do to help, of course,” Colleen said, all the while feeling guilty about the fact that she was harboring reservations about the quickness of this decision. Liam was courageous—true—but his boldness bordered on impulsivity at times. He’d been known to volunteer for the most dangerous assignments when he’d been a Chicago police detective. Not that marrying Natalie was the same as a risky assignment, but still…
“Are you sure?” Liam asked her. “You knocked yourself out with the planning for Mari and Marc’s wedding, Colleen. Ours won’t be as fancy. We just want family and good friends.” He grinned. “And a great party, of course.”
Natalie was studying her brother. “You haven’t said anything, Eric.”
“I don’t think it should come as a shock to you that I think you two are jumping the gun on this,” Eric replied bluntly.
A tense silence ensued. Colleen squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She agreed with Eric, but she hated the sadness that seeped into Natalie’s radiant expression and the way Liam’s grin flattened.
“I want to make it clear, we’re not asking for permission,” Liam stated after a moment. “Or for approval,” Liam added, meeting Eric’s stare. “Natalie and I are getting married. I’m crazy about her, and I want to take care of her for the rest of my life, be there for her…love her.” He glanced over at Natalie, and the glow of love flared once again in her dark eyes. “Some people take years to know whether or not they want to make that commitment. Natalie and I have known since this summer.” Liam glanced from Colleen and back to Eric. “Believe or don’t believe. Just know that Natalie and I do believe in each other…in this.” He took Natalie’s hand in his and faced them again. “If that’s good enough for you, we’d like both of you to be in the wedding, too.”
Despite her anxiety over the situation, Colleen couldn’t ignore the love and determination, the pure joy, in his tone.
She stood and rushed over to him, hugging him tight and offering her congratulations. Natalie came next. Colleen kissed her on the cheek.
“I’m finally going to have a sister who lives here in town,” she said before she gave Natalie a hug.
“I’m finally going to have a sister, period,” Natalie replied, laughing.
Over Natalie’s shoulder, she noticed Eric still sat. Colleen hitched her chin slightly at Natalie in a pointed gesture, glaring at him the whole time.
Get off your butt this instant and congratulate your sister, Reyes.
His hard mouth twitched—probably in annoyance, because it couldn’t possibly have been in humor, given the situation—and he stepped toward his sister.
“You’re sure?” he asked simply.
“I am. I love Liam so much,” Natalie replied before she flew into her brother’s arms.
“I just want you to be happy.” Colleen blinked back a tear when she heard the deep feeling infused into Eric’s usually level voice.
“I’ve never been so happy in my life,” Natalie said.
Liam’s smile was unusually tender when Colleen met his stare. She realized her face was damp with tears. When she glanced back at Eric and Natalie, she saw that Eric watched her as well over Natalie’s head, his eyes dark and inexplicable.
Later that afternoon, Eric called out to Colleen as she was walking out of the hospital gift shop.
“Did they take Brendan down to the physical-therapy gym?” he asked as he caught up with her. He couldn’t help but notice how her expression became guarded when she recognized him. Every time he told himself he was used to her defensiveness and dislike, that it really didn’t matter, Colleen surprised him.
It mattered.
She nodded. “It seems strange to have him moving around right after surgery.”
“Don’t worry. The physical therapists here are real pros. They’ll just be assessing him and doing some simple stretches to keep his muscles flexible and strong. I’m glad I caught up with you. Can we talk in my office?” he asked as they progressed down the hallway together.
Her bluish green eyes flashed. “Why?”
“Liam and Natalie.”
“I can’t believe they’re getting married,” she murmured.
“That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
“What do you mean?”
He held out his arm, beckoning her down a corridor to the right of them. “My office is down here. Please?”
She wore a pair of supple black leather boots that hugged her shapely calves just as tightly as her form-fitting jeans hugged her thighs. Colleen didn’t look like the mother of any kid he’d ever operated on before, but that wasn’t saying much. Colleen made a habit of breaking most stereotypes, even if she could be rather predictable when it came to certain things.
Like hating him, for instance.
“What’s wrong? Not afraid of being alone with me, are you?” he teased softly when he noticed her wavering in those sexy black boots.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Let’s make it quick, though. I want to get back before Brendan’s appointment is over.” She strode down the hallway, her boot heels clicking briskly. Per her typical MO, she left him standing there like a gawping teenager stunned into immobility by her golden beauty.
Fortunately, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. He did what any red-blooded man would have done under the circumstances and stood still, admiring the rear view of Colleen Kavanaugh Sinclair in a pair of tight jeans. She came to a halt and turned her head, the abrupt gesture causing her mane of long blond hair to whip around her.
“Are you coming or what, Reyes?”
He knew she didn’t expect an answer, just compliance, so he said nothing as he caught up to her. Neither of them spoke as they walked side by side down the hospital corridor to his office.
He’d known her since he was seventeen years old—or at least, he’d known of her. They hadn’t exactly moved in the same social circle. She was a Kavanaugh, after all, and he was the son of an immigrant who cleaned Harbor Town offices
and hotel rooms. She was a daughter of a wealthy Chicago attorney who could afford to buy a vacation home in Harbor Town and provide his wife and children with sunny, perfect vacations that lasted not just for two weeks but entire summers. Colleen had been the prettiest girl in a group of very pretty girls. She’d been the best athlete, the bravest and the smartest of that elite group, as well.
Some people couldn’t help it. They were born having it all.
Of course, appearances could be misleading. Tragedy had struck Colleen not just once, but twice by the time she was thirty years old. First her father had been killed in the wreck when she was sixteen. Then her husband had been killed in Afghanistan several years ago.
He knew that for most men, the first things that would pop into their head when they considered Colleen was her good looks and effortless ability to talk to anyone. It was why she was such a talented clinical social worker, after all. She could put a long-term drug addict and recidivist criminal at ease as quickly as she could a wealthy blue blood who was struggling with his wife’s alcoholism. Eric knew that Colleen was probably born with a lion’s share of kindness and charm, but it was her pain and grief that had molded her into the person she was today.
Of course, he only knew about her kindness and natural ability to connect with other people from observing her during her clinical work. That, and the memory of a bluish green-eyed stare and a smile that could haunt a man for half a lifetime.
Sometimes he was convinced that he couldn’t stand Colleen when she turned on her Princess of the Icy Realm act, but his irritation at her was usually only short-lived. He understood that their uneasy history sparked her hostility, and she did it to defend against past hurt. Once he got some distance from her, his annoyance at her would become tinged with sadness.
He’d watched her work, and the truth was, he admired her. She was no pushover, and the patients at The Family Center knew better than to try to manipulate her. Her kindness wasn’t of the “sweet” variety, but the deep, enduring, measurable type; it was demonstrated daily through her relentless faith in people’s ability to heal and her track record for going the extra mile for her patients—not occasionally but as a matter of course.
It sucked, plain and simple, knowing he was one of the few people on the planet who couldn’t make Colleen smile. He wished he hadn’t been forced into admiring and respecting her from a distance. He’d rather be doing it up close and personal.
“I’m right in here,” he said.
She followed him into his office. He sat on the edge of his desk and observed her while she glanced around curiously and then wandered over to his bookcase, smiling when she saw a photo of a ten-year-old Natalie. Nat wore a tutu and an anxious, hopeful smile. Colleen took a few steps and looked closely at his diplomas, and then his old hockey stick from college. She sobered when she saw the photo of his mother.
There it was.
For the thousandth time, he wished the weight of the past didn’t stand like a ten-foot-thick barrier between them.
“They say that men who are so neat have something to hide,” she said briskly as she turned around. She sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk and crossed those long, booted legs.
“Who are they, exactly?”
“Okay. I say that,” she replied with a bewitching little smile.
“I thought women liked a man who picked up after himself.”
“Maybe some women.” Her eyes flickered over him briefly before she glanced out the window at the brilliantly sunny fall day. For a moment, he took pleasure in examining her while his regard went unnoticed. Her heart-shaped face managed to convey delicate, feminine beauty and strength all at once. She wore her bangs long and spiky. They highlighted her large, expressive eyes to perfection. Her hair was loosely curled and tumbled around her upper arms and back, and as always, he experienced a desire to delve his fingers into those glossy locks.
“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” she prompted.
He cleared his throat and forced himself to focus.
“I was watching you in the waiting room when Liam and Natalie announced they were getting married. I saw your expression. I know I’m not the only one who thinks they’re being impulsive about this.”
Colleen shrugged. “I didn’t make a secret of it. My brother is a wonderful man. He’ll make Natalie very happy. You’ve got nothing to complain about.”
“And you do?”
She stood up quickly. “Not at all. I happen to like Natalie very much.”
“I like Liam, as well. I do,” he said when she gave him an incredulous glance. “Granted, I haven’t always. But he’s gone out of his way to get to know me over the past few months. I know that hasn’t been easy for him, either. I respect the fact that he’s done it for Natalie’s sake. He’s not the first person I’d pick for Nat, but—believe it or not—he’s not the last,” he admitted gruffly.
“Stop. Your benevolence is overpowering me.”
“Cut the sarcasm for a second, will you? I’m trying to talk to you about something serious. You can listen to everyone else on the damn planet. Can’t you do it with me for ten minutes?”
She froze. He hadn’t intended to sound so sharp. Regret swept through him when he saw the color fade from her cheeks. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath.
“I care about my sister, and I know you feel the same for Liam. Would it be so awful for us to both think they’re rushing into this marriage? Would it really be so terrible for us to share an opinion on something?”
She glanced away from him. He guessed he’d irritated her, but he sensed she was torn, as well.
“You know what I mean, Colleen,” he continued in a low voice. “Even though you don’t want to admit it, you think they’re making this decision rashly. You don’t want to see Liam get hurt any more than I want to see Nat suffer.”
She said nothing as she stared out the window. Despite her cold expression, he knew if he touched her smooth cheek, she’d be warm.
And soft.
He stood and walked around his desk, moving away from her because he had a sudden desire to move closer. His movement put him in her line of vision. He caught her eye.
“You know I’m right,” he said quietly.
She looked annoyed. “Why do you always have to make a habit of proving that point?”
He shrugged and fell into his desk chair. He stretched and placed his hands behind his head. She glanced down over his neck and chest. He went still in sudden awareness.
She looked abruptly out the window. “There’s nothing we can do. They’ve made up their minds. You know how impossible it can be to talk reason to two people who are drunk in love with each other.”
“We have nearly two months to make them pause and reconsider their hastiness in the matter.”
Her eyes flashed at him. “We?” she asked, looking haughty—and damn beautiful. He nodded soberly, trying to prove to himself he was affected by neither of those things. He had a lot of experience, at this point, in deflecting Colleen’s burning stares.
Her beauty was a lot more difficult to ignore.
“Look, Marc and Mari will also be in the wedding party,” he said, referring to Colleen’s brother and his wife. “But you and I live here in Harbor Town. We’ll hire a wedding planner, but we’ll probably be the relatives most involved in the preparations.”
“And you’re reminding me of these unfortunate circumstances because…”
“Because it will give us a chance to…tweak the situation a little. Maybe provide Liam and Natalie with some more realistic perspectives on just how serious the venture of marriage is, and encourage them to take some time and at least think about extending their engagement.”
She stared at him, then shook her head slowly. “You’ve got
real nerve, you know that, Reyes?”
He smiled.
Color rushed into her cheeks. “It wasn’t a compliment,” she snapped.
He shrugged, hiding his grin with effort. Even when she snarled at him, she appealed. “Either way, you must realize what I’m saying makes sense. It’s not just Natalie I’m thinking of here. It’s Liam, too.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Do not try and make it seem like you’re being generous. It’s weakening your case. Considerably.” She began to pace in front of his desk. “Even if I did agree with you that they’re being impulsive, there’s nothing we can do. I know it won’t make any difference for me to talk to Liam about it. He’s stubborn as an ox when he makes up his mind about something, a Kavanaugh through and through.” She looked up. “Can you talk to Natalie?”
“I’ve tried a dozen times. It’s like talking to steel armor. The Kavanaughs haven’t cornered the market on stubbornness,” he said mildly.
“Humph,” she muttered, her sweeping gaze telling him loud and clear that while she doubted his claim in his sweet sister’s case, she certainly believed he’d received his fair share of bullheadedness. “What exactly do you mean by ‘tweaking the circumstances’? Do you want me to reveal some deep, dark secret about Liam to Natalie? Should I tell her that he used to not change the empty toilet-paper roll when he was fourteen years old? Do you think that will send her running?”
“No,” he replied levelly, refusing to allow her to prick his temper. “But I can think of a few things that might cause one of them to hit the pause button if the information was presented in just the right way.”
“Like what?’ she asked suspiciously.
“Don’t give me that look. I’m not picturing anything traumatic. Do you think I would ever purposefully hurt my sister?”
She hesitated, but when she finally resumed pacing and answered, she sounded honest enough.