by Helen Lacey
Liam laughed. “Okay, let’s go.”
When they entered the restaurant, Kieran saw his mother and sister-in-law immediately. Kayla was stunningly beautiful, but she was also kind and clearly loved his brother dearly. And Kieran had never seen Liam happier.
His mother, Gwen, was clearly delighted to see him, and her happy expression made him smile. She liked having her chicks close by and was thrilled that Kieran had returned. He knew she worried about his brother Sean’s rumored wild lifestyle in LA and would be over the moon if her youngest child decided to give up his success, money and women and return home, where she believed he belonged. But Kieran wasn’t so sure of that. Sean had never been small-town. He’d always craved the action of a bigger city and had certainly carved out a successful life for himself as a music and movie producer. Kieran was different. And, for him, returning to Cedar River had been an easy decision. Staying in Sioux Falls, where everything reminded him of all he had lost, was never going to be an option.
Gwen O’Sullivan was tall and statuesque, with a silvery bob and a creaseless face that defied her sixty years. She’d been a model long ago and still carried herself as though she could grace the catwalk.
“You were missed last night,” his mother said when he reached their table. “We decided you are going to be in charge of sending out the invitations.”
His mother’s sixtieth birthday party was going to be a big bash, with out-of-state relatives already committed to the event. “We?” he echoed and smiled. “How come you’re on the organizing committee for your own party?”
“Well, if I leave it to you and Liam, I suspect nothing will get done,” she said and raised both her brows. “Thankfully, I have Kayla and Connie to help.”
Liam’s wife and Liam’s personal assistant. Kieran suddenly felt like apologizing for the fact that he was divorced and single and had inadvertently robbed his parent of her daughter-in-law and the grandchild she’d loved. Logically, he knew that there was no malice in his mother’s words. Gwen knew what he’d been through, knew how broken he was at losing his son and his marriage. But he still experienced an acute sense of failure. From his broken relationship with Nicola to his busted marriage, he clearly sucked at commitment. He glanced toward Kayla, and his sister-in-law gave him a quick, reassuring wink, as though she knew exactly what was going on in his head.
Nothing is going on...
Watching his family, Kieran couldn’t help but reflect on all he had lost. He’d loved being a father and missed Christian so much he ached inside. And he missed being a husband. And then, as always, the ache was replaced by a feeling of betrayal and rage so intense he had to take a couple of long breaths to stop the sensation taking hold.
“Everything all right?”
Liam’s voice. His brother knew him better than anyone. “Yeah, fine.”
“You look tired.”
“I did a double shift at the hospital,” he said casually.
“And then had a date with Nicola Radici.”
And just like that, his hold of the situation spectacularly fell apart because two feminine sets of startled eyes immediately zoomed in on him. Kayla’s eyes were as wide as saucers. His mother looked at him with a kind of delighted shock. He had to backpedal—and fast.
“It wasn’t a date.”
Thankfully, a couple of orders of pancakes arrived just then, but Kieran knew he wasn’t about to be let off the hook so easily.
“I’ve always liked Nicola,” Gwen said quietly. “She’s a sweet girl. She’s helped out on the hospital committee a few times, you know. She’s so good at organizing things. I might stop by the restaurant today and see if she’d like to help me with the latest fundraiser. And the way she’s taken to caring for her nephews when her brother was killed...really, such a sweet girl.”
“You said that already,” he muttered, feigning interest in the food his mother placed in front of him.
Liam chuckled, and Kieran scowled in his direction. Just because his brother had found his happily-ever-after with Kayla, it didn’t mean that everyone else would. Kieran had believed he’d had it once...until it blew up in his face. He wasn’t about to go down that road again in a hurry.
He picked up his fork. “Stop reading anything into it. She hates me, remember?”
“That’s true,” Kayla said and smiled. “She does.”
Liam chuckled. “It’s a double-edged sword, though, don’t you think?”
Kieran stared at his pancakes, feeling heat rise up his chest and throat and then hit him squarely in the face. He didn’t want anyone speculating about him and Nicola. Because there was no him and Nicola. Not now. Not ever again. And, when he glanced at his mother, he saw that she was still smiling, still watching him with a curious regard that spoke volumes. He knew that look. It was a matchmaking face.
I’m so screwed.
* * *
Tour groups were usually Nicola’s favorite. They were generally cheerful, always finished their meals and tipped big. But today she was too tired to handle the exuberant crowd. Her limbs felt heavy with a kind of odd lethargy that had everything to do with the fact she’d barely managed to get any sleep the night before. Really, how was she supposed to sleep when Kieran was spread out on her couch directly below her bed? If she’d had any sense, she would have woken him up and sent him packing. But the kindness he’d shown toward Marco was impossible to discount. And she wasn’t a mean-spirited person—even toward the man she hated most in the world.
Okay...so maybe that was a stretch.
It wasn’t exactly hate. It was...it was anger and resentment and a whole lot of bone-deep, heart-wrenching hurt. The way he’d ended their relationship still stung. The pity she’d endured from her friends and the humiliation she’d experienced had been almost impossible to bear. In the end, escaping to college in California had been a lifeline. And, for a while, falling in love with Carl had been a lifeline, too. After Kieran, Nicola wasn’t sure she could have those feelings again. Sure, she’d dated in college and had had a couple of short-term boyfriends, but no one had really touched her heart until she met Carl. And then, once she was in love and believed she’d finally get her fairy-tale ending, the so-called man of her dreams simply turned out to be another man who didn’t want her.
As she stacked the dishwasher with pizza trays, she checked the time. Two o’clock. The lunch crowd had thinned out, and there was only one couple remaining at one of the booth tables. Her father was slowly shoveling the coals in the fire pit at the other end of the kitchen, while Marco did some reading in the small office off the kitchen. Josie, one of the two waitresses working that day, came through the swing doors carrying a tray of glassware.
“There’s a customer out front who wants to speak to the manager,” the younger woman said. “And he’s kind of cute.”
Nicola grinned. “What’s the problem?”
Josie grinned, flashing the stud pierced in her tongue, and shrugged. “Dunno...he just asked for you.”
She nodded, wiped her hands and headed through the door, expecting to find a disgruntled customer waiting for her. Instead, Kieran was standing by the counter. Suspicion coursed through her veins.
“What are you doing here?”
He gave her a grin that made her insides do a foolish flip. “Just wanted to check on the patient.”
Her suspicions subsided a little. “He’s in the office doing his reading.”
Nicola tried not to think about how her heart was suddenly racing. After so many years, he still had the ability to shake her composure. Because she was as aware of him as she’d ever been.
Damn it. I’m still attracted to him.
“Is he feeling better?”
“I think so,” she replied. “He hasn’t complained about his hand for most of the afternoon.”
“That’s good,” he said and looked around. “Nothing muc
h has changed in here, has it?”
She shrugged and glanced upward, taking in the faded bunting, dusty Chianti bottles suspended from hooks in the ceiling, and countless tiny Italian flags stuck to the walls. “Dad likes to keep things traditional.”
“Does he still drive that old Impala?”
“Not since his stroke,” she replied and shrugged again. “It’s for sale. Interested?”
A young couple came to the counter before he could reply. They paid their check and, once she’d processed the cash through the register, she noticed that he was still watching her, one elbow perched on the edge of the counter. The customers left, and Nicola observed that they were now alone in the restaurant.
She wished he would stop smiling. Wished he would stop looking so handsome and sexy in his jeans, polo shirt and jacket. She looked for imperfections and had to struggle to find a single one. “You need a haircut.”
His eyes widened, and he offered a lopsided grin as he rubbed is jaw. “I know. And a shave.”
Nicola’s gaze lingered on his mouth and, for one crazy second, she remembered what his lips tasted like. And since he’d been her first kiss, her first touch, her first everything, the memories were suddenly acute and made her knees tremble. They’d lost their virginity together. It had been nerve-racking and a little clumsy—but it had been other things too, like gentle and emotional and achingly sweet. She’d cried afterward, and he’d held her as though she was the most precious thing in his world, muttering soft words against her neck, telling her he loved her, over and over.
“Nicola? Is everything okay?”
His voice jerked her back into the present, and she shrugged a little too casually. “I can get Marco if you want to see him.”
“You look tired,” he remarked.
“Gee...thanks.”
He grinned again and her stomach dropped. “You’re still beautiful, so don’t worry.”
He looked as startled by his words as she did. Heat crawled up her neck, and she knew her cheeks were going to burn. He still thought she was beautiful? Realization suddenly curdled through her blood. Whatever she was feeling, he was feeling it, too. Because, after so many years, the attraction they’d once had for one another was still there.
But he also looked like he wanted to dive into a sinkhole!
“What are you really doing here?” she asked.
The door opened, and its bell chimed before either of them could say anything else, and then Gwen O’Sullivan entered the restaurant, carrying a cardboard box Nicola suspected was filled with donuts from the bakery down the street. She didn’t seem surprised to see her son standing by the counter. In fact, she looked...well...pleased. Alarms bells pealed inside Nicola’s head, but she quickly forced them back.
“Nicola,” Gwen said, smiling widely. “How lovely to see you.”
“Hello, Mrs. O’Sullivan.” Even after so many years she still struggled to call the other woman by her first name. When she and Kieran had dated, she had spent countless hours at the big O’Sullivan house. The ranch was the most impressive in the county. “It’s good to see you, too. How can I help you?”
“I bought these for your nephew,” the older woman said and smiled as she placed the box on the counter. “Kieran told me about his accident, so I thought he might like a special treat.”
“That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”
Gwen shrugged. “Well, actually, I did have something of an ulterior motive.”
Nicola stilled instantly. “You did?”
“I was hoping to persuade you to volunteer for the latest hospital fund-raiser. And I’ll completely understand if you can’t, since you’re so busy here and with your nephews.”
She met Gwen’s gaze and nodded. “Of course I can. Although, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.”
Gwen’s eyes darted quickly toward her son, and then she smiled warmly. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll become invaluable.”
Marco chose that moment to skip through the doors connecting to the kitchen and was clearly delighted when he spotted his favorite doctor. And even happier when Gwen announced that the donuts were for him.
“What do you need to say to Mrs. O’Sullivan?” Nicola prompted.
Her nephew nodded enthusiastically and said thank-you several times as he took the box and held it against his chest. “Do I have to share them?” Marco asked.
Nicola bit back a grin. “If you mean with Johnny, then no, you don’t have to...but it would be the nice thing to do, don’t you think?”
Marco’s mouth twisted thoughtfully. “Even though he’s mean to me?”
“Even then,” she said and ruffled his hair a little. “Now, why don’t you go and show Nonno your donuts and then get back to your reading?”
He nodded, said a cheerful goodbye and then skipped out of the dining area and into the kitchen. When he was out of sight, Nicola turned back toward Gwen. “Thank you for your kindness.”
“He’s a delightful child,” Gwen said and nodded approvingly. “You should be very proud of all you’re doing for him and his brother. Losing a parent when a child is so young—it’s incredibly traumatic. I know from watching my three granddaughters cope with my daughter’s passing, and they still had their father. Of course, my son-in-law has now remarried, and the girls are very attached to his wife, Marissa, which was hard to watch at first...but it really has been for the best for my granddaughters. At the end of the day, if a child feels loved, then they feel safe, and Marco obviously feels like that with you.”
Nicola’s throat tightened and, for a moment, she felt like rushing forward and hugging the other woman for being so supportive and understanding. With only her father and her friends to offer advice, she missed having an older woman in her life, someone with experience who could offer comfort and support and tell her that she was getting some things right. In that moment, she missed her own mother so much her chest ached.
She swallowed hard and managed a smile. “Thank you. It means a lot.”
Gwen nodded thoughtfully. “If you ever need anything, you can reach out anytime.”
The lump in her throat intensified, and she managed a tiny nod, trying to get her thoughts away from her grief. “Uh...can I get you something? A late lunch perhaps?”
Gwen waved a hand. “Not for me, I have to get to a charity meeting at the museum,” she said and sighed. “We’re trying to raise more money to fund the planned extension. I’m sure Kayla has told you all about it. But since my son barely touched his breakfast and probably skipped lunch, you might just be able to persuade him to stay,” she said and raised an eyebrow in Kieran’s direction. “If I remember correctly, he always did have a thing for your cooking.”
Within seconds, the older woman was gone, but her provocative words lingered in the air. Nicola looked toward Kieran and realized he was staring at her.
“What?” she asked sharply.
“I just love it when my mother talks about me as though I’m not in the room.”
Her mouth curved. “I’ve always liked your mom.”
“She’s always liked you, too,” he said and shrugged, almost as if suddenly he couldn’t stand being in his own skin. “That’s the problem.”
“Problem?”
“Yeah,” he flipped back. “A problem.”
Nicola’s nerves rattled. “I don’t see why. Your mother and I have always been friendly.”
He made an impatient sound. “Come off it, Nic. You know what I mean. She’s fishing.”
“Fishing?” she echoed, heat burning her cheeks as the sound of her shortened name rolled off his tongue. “For what?”
He shrugged, but his shoulders seemed incredibly tight. “For any indication that I might be ready to...you know...get back on the horse.”
She frowned, working out where he was going, and not liking it one bit. “And who’s the
horse in the little scenario?”
“You are.”
“I am?” She planted her hands on her hips as her temper flared. “I’m the horse?”
“Well, of course you’re not really a—”
“A horse that you might want to get back on...correct?”
“I didn’t mean it like—”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said hotly, glancing around to ensure Josie, Marco or her father weren’t in earshot. Thankfully, they were all still in the kitchen. “Thank you for stopping by to check on Marco, but I’d like you to leave.”
“You’re angry.”
“Damned straight!”
He took a step closer. “So, I’m guessing you’ve never learned how to conquer that famous temper of yours.”
The blood surged in her veins. “Since my temper only comes out around you, I haven’t had to worry about it.”
“Look, all I’m saying is my mother seems to have developed this crazy idea that we’re... That you and I are somehow... I don’t know—” he said the words on an exasperated breath and ran a hand through his floppy, gorgeous hair “—reconnected.”
“But we’re not,” she shot back quickly. “You would be the very last man on the planet that I would want to connect with. Next time I see your mother, I’ll make sure I tell her that.”
He laughed. He laughed so hard it made Nicola madder than hell.
“You sure about that?” he asked, his blue eyes glittering so brilliantly she could barely stand to look at him.
“Am I sure I’ll tell your mom?” she shrugged. “Of course.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant.”
Nicola stilled. “Do you mean about you being the last man on the planet? Sure, I meant it. And if you’re offended, that’s just your supersize, overinflated O’Sullivan ego talking.”
He laughed again, and the sound rumbled in his chest and made her awareness of him skyrocket like a zephyr. It’s just physical attraction. She’d get over it. All she had to do was remember what a complete jerk he was, and then any stupidly lustful feelings she had aiming in his direction would spectacularly fade.