by Helen Lacey
She stormed across the room and opened the door, waving one arm in a dramatic arc. “Now, take your ego, your horse analogies and every other annoying part of yourself and get the hell out of my restaurant.”
He lingered for a moment, as though he had something else to say to her. But then he did leave—slowly, quietly, deliberately...and when Nicola closed the door behind him she sagged back against it, suddenly all out of energy. Because she wasn’t only angry...she was hot and bothered and, even though she was loath to acknowledge the fact, her stupid hormones were raging.
By the time she’d pulled herself together, then gathered up Marco and his backpack and donuts, the assistant manager had arrived to take over from her and work through until closing. Nicola headed straight for the local elementary school to collect Johnny, and by three thirty both boys were home and out in the backyard, with Johnny shooting hoops and squabbling over donuts with Marco. The rest of the evening zoomed by, but by eight thirty the boys were finally settled and she was in kitchen, making tea and filling a bowl with pretzels. She had some bookkeeping to do for the restaurant, like selecting the following week’s produce order, but she wasn’t in any mood for sitting in front of a computer. Instead, she settled herself in the living room and watched television, flicking channels for a few minutes with as much interest as she could muster.
Until she heard her doorbell chime.
From her spot on the couch she noticed the sensor light was on, so she quickly got to her feet and peered through the front window, recognizing Kieran’s tall, broad-shouldered frame instantly. She was through the hall in seconds and opened the door.
“What are you doing here?” she asked and held the screen back.
He held up a light bulb. “For your living room.”
She stepped back and allowed him to cross the threshold, her brows up. “A bit late for a house call. Where’s your car?” she asked, peering outside.
“I live two streets away. I walked.”
She remembered suddenly that Kayla had mentioned he’d sublet her old apartment. So close. Too close. “I have bulbs, so you didn’t have to go to this trouble.”
“It’s no trouble.”
She held her ground and her nerve. “You’re an idiot.”
“Around you,” he acknowledged and walked through the hall as she shut the door. “Yeah. History would say that I am an idiot.” Within half a minute he had the bulb replaced and the old one was left on the mantel of the fireplace. He flicked the light on and off a couple of times and remained by the door. “Disaster averted.”
Nicola stared at him, caught up in his blisteringly intense gaze. “What are you really doing here?”
He took a couple of steps toward her. There was uneasiness in his expression. And something else. Something she wasn’t quite sure she had the courage to admit. Until he spoke again.
“I wanted to find out if my mother was right.”
She frowned, unmoving, even when he reached her and there were barely inches of space between them. “About what?”
“About you. About me.”
Nicola swallowed hard, feeling the heat radiating from his body even through the layers of clothing. She hadn’t been this close to a man for so long; she hadn’t seen that almost hungry look in a man’s eyes since forever. And in that moment she knew that his mother was right. They had reconnected. There was no denying it, no running from it. But she knew she had to fight it.
Without another word, his hand looped around the nape of her neck, and he pulled her closer, until suddenly there was no space between them at all. Just heat and awareness and desire and memory.
And then, as though they had been transported back fifteen years, he kissed her.
Chapter Four
Kieran hadn’t planned on kissing Nicola. Not ever again. But he’d forgotten how much she could make him feel. And even though he’d imagined she might push him away...she didn’t.
She kissed him back.
Her lips parted, and he gently drew her tongue into his mouth, curling it around his own in a way that was shatteringly familiar. He knew her mouth. He knew the sweet taste of her lips and the erotic slide of her tongue only too well. Time hadn’t diminished the memory. Time had only tucked the memory away, sending it into the shadows until this moment, and now everything resurfaced, making the memories of her more acute than he’d believed possible. And like an old video tape set to rewind, Kieran remembered everything they had been to each other. Every recollection amplified by the next, sending his senses hurtling toward a longing he’d forgotten existed. He didn’t press too close, didn’t want her to feel how hotly aroused he was by her kiss.
But he wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss her like they used to kiss. Touch her like they used to touch. Possess her and feel her shudder with pleasure beneath him.
“Please,” she muttered against his mouth. “Stop.”
He pulled back immediately, putting space between them. Her breathing was ragged, her cheeks flushed and her lips were red. “Nic, I—”
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, cutting him off.
“Isn’t is obvious?”
She eyes flashed angry sparks. “Well, don’t do it again.”
“Okay,” he said and stepped back. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
Kieran took a few steps down the hallway, got to the door and then turned back to face her. “You know, Nic, it doesn’t matter how much we try to deny it, we’ll always have a history.”
“I’d prefer to forget the past,” she said and stormed past him, opening the door wide.
She might prefer it, but Kieran suspected she had as much chance of forgetting their history as he did. For three years they had been inseparable—best friends as well as young lovers. They had shared dreams and plans—and the memories were acute. Forgetting Nicola had never been an option—he’d just buried the memories deep, forging another life, blurring the lines of how much they had once meant to one another. And, yeah, now she hated him and she’d never forgiven him for the way he’d humiliated her. But there was something else, too. Kieran could feel it right through to his bones. The pull between them was still there.
“We’re still attracted to one another, that much is obvious,” he said bluntly and watched as her cheeks burned with color. “And it feels like unfinished business.”
“We’ve been finished since graduation. You made that clear enough. But if you’re implying that we should act on some lingering...feelings...well, you can forget it. I’m not interested in reconnecting, revisiting or rewriting history.”
“Are you sure?”
Her eyes rolled. “God, you’re an egotistical jerk. Yes,” she insisted. “I am sure. But I do want to thank you for fixing the bulb. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
“Just not my honesty, right?”
Her gaze sharpened. “I don’t have time for...for...”
“Romance?”
She laughed. “Seriously? Is that what you think is going on?”
“I’m not really sure what’s going on.”
“It’s sex,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper, before it rose higher after she sucked in a long breath. “Obviously. And I get it...you’re back in Cedar River, you’re trying to readjust to being here and, despite your family living here, too, you’re alone and maybe a little lonely. I understand, believe me. This town can do that to a person—you can be surrounded by people and friends and still feel alone. But now, you’ve discovered that I’m here—good old Nic—familiar and clearly struggling to work out a way to be a parent to the boys, and here you are—Doctor Dreamboat. It makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?” she shot out, her face a glorious shade of pink because she was angry and passionate and clearly hating him with every fiber of her being. “We pick up where we left off, and everyone
is happy—your mother, who clearly has matchmaking plans, and Marco, who thinks you hung the moon. The whole town knows how goddamned wonderful you are, I’m surprised they didn’t have a ticker tape parade to celebrate your homecoming!”
There it was—her famous temper.
He’d witnessed it firsthand many times, like when he’d accidently stuck two of her fingers together with glue while they were working on a joint display project for chemistry class, or the time he’d forgotten to notice that her braces had come off three days before junior prom. She’d been a passionate girl and had matured into an even more passionate, vibrant woman. And she knocked him senseless with her beautiful hair and pink lips. She always had.
Kieran rocked back on his heels. “Good night, Nic. Sweet dreams.”
He left her without another word, striding through the doorway, heading down the steps and out the front gate. A few minutes later, he was back home.
He changed into sweats, grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and then flopped onto the sofa, flipping through channels on the remote until he landed on a nature documentary. He tried to get interested in the show about animal migration but within ten minutes he was asleep.
He awoke before midnight, cursing the uncomfortable sofa—and the dreams of Nicola that kept his body achingly aroused—poured the untouched beer down the sink and then went to bed.
It was past eight the next morning when he planted his feet again on the floorboards. He got up, inhaled a bowl of cereal, drank two cups of coffee and changed into jeans, shirt and jacket. It was after nine by the time he was outside and took twenty minutes to drive to the family ranch.
Although there were still several head of cattle and a few horses running around the place, it hadn’t been a working ranch for many years, not since his grandfather had gotten out of beef and into real estate. But the wide gates, endless white fencing and perfect manicured lawns and gardens made the place look like it could be on the front page of a style magazine. When they were kids, there had been a more lived-in feel around the ranch. A bike leaning against the front steps, a skateboard on the porch, Liam’s old Mustang parked in the driveway. Or Liz’s dogs standing point around the yard. His sister had a way of collecting animals—a pig named Frank, a mean gold rooster she called Nobby.
A familiar ache made its way deep into his bones when he thought about the sister he’d lost. Thankfully, Liz’s husband ensured that their kids still had a relationship with the family, and Kieran was grateful for that. He had always liked Grady, even though their father had never considered him good enough for the only O’Sullivan daughter. Liz’s death meant change for everyone involved, and Kieran knew his parents were worried they would lose their grandchildren...like they’d lost Christian.
Stepping back from his marriage and his son was the hardest thing he’d ever done. He could have fought...he could have hired a good lawyer and insisted he get some kind of regular visitation so he could maintain a relationship with the child he’d raised as his own for eighteen months. But at the end of the day, Christian wasn’t his child. Staying in the boy’s life would only add confusion and heartache to an already impossible situation. But it hurt. It hurt so much he knew he never wanted to feel that kind of despair again.
Kieran walked up through the garden and headed for the front door. His mother pulled back the screen the moment he tapped and, although she was smiling, he sensed something else was going on.
“Everything okay, Mom?” he asked as he crossed the threshold.
She nodded and ushered him down the hall. “Of course,” she said, her back rigid. “So, I’ve got everything ready in the dining room. You might have to make two trips.”
Two trips to remove all of his father’s personal belongings out of the ranch house and into storage at Liam’s place. With the divorce already in motion, Kieran knew there was no going back for his parents. Their marriage was over, and they were both moving on with their lives.
The dining room was littered with cardboard boxes, all taped up and labeled. His mother had been busy. Kieran glanced at her as she walked around the table, hands on hips, back straight.
“Mom, I could have packed this up. You didn’t have to do it all yourself.”
She half shrugged. “I needed to. Think of it as a cleansing. And it’s not as though I’m attached to any of these things...they belong to your father. I simply want to start over.”
Kieran understood that feeling better than most. “I get it, Mom. I just don’t like the idea of you rattling around in this big house by yourself.”
One silvery brow rose. “You could move in, then I wouldn’t be alone.”
“I’m not much company these days,” he replied. “And I want to be close to the hospital for the next few months.”
She grinned. “Plus, it might ruin your reputation as Cedar River’s most eligible bachelor, right?”
Heat crawled up his neck. “I don’t think I—”
She laughed and touched his arm. “I’m just teasing you. Now help me with these boxes while I make some coffee. You look like you need it.”
He headed down the hallway and started on several trips back to his Jeep, loading the boxes inside. On the third trip back, his mother had a mug of coffee waiting for him.
“I was talking to Liam yesterday,” she remarked. “He said he’d talked to you about the Big Brothers program that is run by the hospital—as you know, I’ve been involved with the program for a number of years. There’s a child I think would benefit from your guidance.”
“Mom, I really can’t commit to—”
“Nonsense,” she said and waved a hand. “I know you would never turn your back on someone in need. And this child needs guidance. He lost his parents a while ago, and his—”
Kieran’s suspicions soared. “Mother,” he said, harder than usual. “Are you talking about one of the Radici boys?”
She shrugged. “Well, yes.”
“Forget it,” Kieran said quickly and grabbed another box. “I know what you’re doing. You’re matchmaking.”
“Of course I am,” she admitted.
“Well, it’s got to stop.”
She waved a hand. “I’m not going to stop being concerned about you. I’m not going to stop wanting to see you happy. It’s been nearly two years and—”
“Twenty-one months,” he corrected. “And I am happy. I’m happy to be back home.”
“I know how it feels to lose a child,” she said, cutting him to the core. “It feels like someone has ripped your heart out. But we have to move on. It’s hard but necessary.”
Kieran ignored her and swallowed the heat burning his throat, and then began walking down the hall. “I can fit a few more boxes in the Jeep.”
“I’m serious about young Marco needing guidance,” she said. “You’ve met him, so you know how troubled he is. And I think it would be good for you, too,” she added. “You know, to think about someone other than yourself.”
Kieran stopped midstride. He loved his mother. But sometimes she was out of line. “If you’re implying that I am wallowing in self-pity these days, then you are way off base. I’m fine,” he insisted. “And Marco needs his family, not some stranger who—”
“Marco needs compassion and understanding—qualities you possess by the bucketload. But,” she said and waved a loose hand, “if you want to be selfish and refuse to help him, I suppose there would be someone else willing to give up their time.”
Guilt hit him smack in the center of his chest. His mother should have been a shrink, he figured, since she was so good at mind games. “Okay,” he said and headed off down the hall. “Sure. Whatever. I’ll let you know what shifts I’m working and you can arrange something around those times. But good luck trying to get his aunt’s consent. She hates me, remember.”
Except she didn’t kiss me back like she hated me.
Kiera
n shook off the memory. When he returned to the house, his mother was waiting by the door, holding out the mug again. Kieran took the cup, drank the contents quickly and passed it back to her.
“I’m sure I can get Nicola’s agreement. At the end of the day, she’ll want to do what’s best for her nephew.”
“And you think that’s me?” he asked, moving back toward the dining room for another box.
“I think it will be good for you both,” his mother replied.
Kieran wasn’t so sure. Nicola had made her feelings abundantly clear—she wasn’t interested in rekindling anything. And truthfully, neither was he. But his attraction to her had built momentum since that night at the hospital, and he suspected it wouldn’t abate until they purged whatever was left of their connection. Which they wouldn’t do. Nicola wasn’t about to jump into his bed, no matter how strong their attraction. And Kieran wasn’t ready for anything more.
It was a stalemate.
He knew that all he had to do was get his mother to stop interfering in his life, to get his brother to stop suggesting he get involved in the Big Brothers program, and to stay as far away from Nicola Radici as possible.
He also knew that none of that was going to happen.
* * *
It was a bad idea, Nicola thought later Wednesday afternoon. Maybe the worst of her life. Okay, not the worst. But agreeing to allow Kieran to be a Big Brother to Marco was up there with Stupidest Choices Ever. But Marco had been so delighted by the idea that she didn’t have the heart to say no to Gwen’s suggestion. Of course, she knew Kieran was talked into it by his mother. Gwen could be very persuasive.
Now she was simply waiting for him to arrive. She’d picked up Marco from school, and her nephew had quickly changed his clothes and was sitting patiently on the porch, waiting for Kieran to turn up. Johnny was upstairs doing homework, and Nicola was pacing the kitchen, thinking about how she was going to face him after her behavior the last time they’d been together.
Foolish.
Knowing how she’d willingly responded to his kiss filled her with humiliation and dread. Because she felt like such a fraud. She’d spent years avoiding any thought of him—she’d gone to college, forged a career, fallen in love, and ultimately had her heart broken—and during that time, Nicola had rarely allowed the memories of Kieran to invade her thoughts. She’d moved on. So had he. But proximity had altered everything. Now she couldn’t avoid her thoughts. She couldn’t avoid the way her body remembered what they had once been to one another. Because she’d never reacted to Carl the way she had to Kieran. Once upon a time, he only had to trace a fingertip along her spine and she was instantly his. He was her sexual Achilles’ heel—the one man who could jump-start her libido with a simple look. And he’d jump-started it with a bang.
