A Kiss, a Dance & a Diamond

by Helen Lacey

  “How long do you think you’ll stay here?” she asked, shifting her thoughts.

  “I’m not sure,” he replied. “My mother wants me to move back to the ranch. Since J.D. moved out, it’s pretty quiet out there.”

  “Are you tempted?”

  “A little. I’m happier staying close to the hospital for the moment. But it was great growing up on the ranch. There’s something soothing about wide-open spaces.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” she mused. “I spent my childhood living above the restaurant and then sharing a dorm room at college before I moved into my apartment in San Francisco. But I remember spending time at the ranch when we were young. I remember the loft in the barn.”

  “Me, too,” he said. “We had some fun times in that loft. But the ranch is too big for a just a couple of people. It needs a family in it. Liam’s not interested in living there, since he and Kayla have that big house down by the river. I don’t know, maybe she should sell the place and start afresh.”

  Nicola sighed. “She and your dad were married a long time—it would be hard to let go completely.”

  “For sure, but divorce changes everything. And Dad is spending time working on his relationship with Jonah—which I think he should do—but that means he’s not quite as alone as my mom. The whole situation is confusing and complex.”

  “Like most families,” she added. “Spend a day in mine. My father is sad all the time, my brother won’t come back to Cedar River because he blames himself for Gino’s death and I’m trying to be the glue that keeps it all together.”

  “You think Vince blames himself?”

  She nodded. “Vince insisted Gino and Miranda go sailing, even though she wanted to stay at the apartment because both the boys weren’t feeling well. He said the boys would be fine. And then Gino and Miranda died. Instant self-blame.”

  “That’s got to be tough,” Kieran said and moved into the kitchen. “I mean, it was an accident.”

  “I know,” she replied. “But loving someone takes all the logic out of things, doesn’t it?”

  He half smiled. “Yeah, it sure does.”

  Nicola felt the edge to his words and thought about all he had lost—his wife, his son and his sister all in the space of a few short years. “Do you miss being married?”

  “Yes,” he replied and smiled. “I was good at it.”

  “I’m sure you were. Maybe you’ll get married again one day.”

  He shrugged a little. “Maybe. But next time I’ll choose someone who is actually in love with me and doesn’t prefer my best friend.”

  She shuddered. “I can’t imagine how hard that was. I mean, Carl and I broke up because he still had feelings for his ex-wife...but he was honest about it once we’d become engaged and once he knew he still had those feelings. But the idea of lying to someone so blatantly like she did to you...it’s difficult to comprehend.”

  “I don’t think it was intentional,” he said quietly. “I don’t think either of them deliberately set out to fall in love and have an affair. Phil was living with someone... Tori and I were married...and we were all friends. Nothing seemed off-kilter until the day I caught them in bed together.”

  Nicola gasped. “You found them together. Wow, how awful.”

  He laughed humorlessly. “It was certainly a shock.”

  “Did she admit to the other thing straightaway?”

  “You mean that my son wasn’t actually my son?” he queried and pulled a couple of plates from the cupboard. “Not long after. I think by then she was relieved that it was out in the open. So I moved out, and she moved on.”

  Nicola walked toward the counter and placed her glass down, meeting his gaze steadily. “How do you...” She stopped, her words trailing off.

  “How do I what?” he queried.

  She took a steadying breath. “How do you trust anyone again after that?”

  He shook his head. “Honestly, I have no idea. A part of me wonders, if I ever do get seriously involved with someone again, how I won’t question everything. But I don’t want to be that person, Nic. I don’t want to be suspicious and paranoid and uncertain because that’s no way to live a life. The truth is, I’m not sure if I’ll ever have the courage to get married again or have kids. I don’t know if I’ll always be thinking Is she being faithful? or Is this child really mine? It’s too early, I guess. Too raw.”

  Nicola swallowed the tightness in her throat. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  In that moment, her earlier reservations slipped away. Because there were just the two of them in the room, two slightly broken people who had somehow found a way back to one another, even if it was simply for a few hours.

  She met his gaze head on and stepped back. “Can we skip dinner?”

  He stilled. “If that’s what you want.”

  Nicola nodded and moved back, heading around the sofa. She took a breath, let the air fill her lungs and flow through her veins and then spoke. “Come here.”

  He moved around the kitchen counter and stood in front of her, looking all serious and gorgeous. “Okay, I’m here.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “Sit down.”

  He did as she requested, settling onto the sofa, arms draped across the back. “Okay, I’m sitting.”

  Nicola moved in front of him, her legs in front of his knees. She took a breath, galvanized her back bone and then smiled. He returned the gesture, his eyes darkening, his gaze unwavering. She moved toward the sofa and straddled his lap, holding on to his shoulders, feeling the muscles bunch and tense beneath her palm and fingertips. There was something intensely erotic about the moment, as though they were the only two people on the planet. And to his credit, he didn’t move. He didn’t make an instant and gratuitous grab for her. That wasn’t his style. He simply stared deep into her eyes, maintaining a visual contact that was so intense it burned her right through to her bones. She pressed closer, feeling him harden against her, feeling his body in a way she hadn’t for fifteen years. He’d changed some, filled out, gotten broader in the shoulders and added muscle to his bones. He was no longer a boy. She was no longer a girl. He was a man; she was a woman. And they were both experienced in life and love and loss.

  Nicola traced her hands along his shoulders and reached his neck, gently threading her fingers through his hair. Long ago, his hair had been longer, but it was still silky and sexy between her fingers. She touched his jaw with the back of her hand and realized how labored his breathing was, as though every ounce of air was a battle.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He smiled fractionally. “I’m fine.”

  “I’m just getting reacquainted.”

  His mouth twisted sexily. “I know exactly what you’re doing, Nic.”

  Heat pitched in her belly, and she pressed closer, waiting for his arms to come around her and for his hands to latch on to her hips. But they didn’t. He hadn’t moved. Except for the hard length of him pressing directly against her through his jeans and his deep breathing, he hadn’t so much as twitched a muscle.

  “Are you playing hard to get?”

  He chuckled deeply. “I told you the other night—you call the shots.”

  Her blood surged, pooling directly between her thighs, and she instinctively pressed closer. “Which means what, exactly?”

  “Which means—” he said, his gaze traveling down her neck and over her breasts for a moment before he reached her eyes again “—ask me.”

  “Ask you?”

  “Ask me to kiss you,” he replied, the tiny pulse in his cheek throbbing madly. “Ask me to make love to you. Ask me to be inside you.”

  Nicola’s libido surged, and she sucked in a sharp breath. “Kiss me?”

  He draped a hand around her neck, anchoring her head, drawing her closer, and then his mouth was
on hers. Not gently. Not softly. But exactly what she wanted, their lips together, their tongues together, fused by a need that was both thrilling and terrifying.

  Then he pulled back abruptly, leaving her panting and wanting more. “And what else?” he demanded, skimming his hands down her sides and holding her hips. “What else do you want?”

  She pushed closer, feeling him hard, and she reached down between them, pressed her palm against him through the rough denim. “Make love to me. I want to feel you inside me.”

  He groaned, kissing her again, his hands grinding her hips seductively, and then he pushed her dress up her thighs. Nicola met his tongue with her own, and they did a sexy dance in her mouth as his hand moved between her legs. She almost bucked off the couch when his fingers slipped beneath her panties, and he found her moist and ready for him. He touched her intimately, finding a rhythm within seconds, and she climaxed almost immediately, gasping his name as pleasure rocked through her, wave after wave pulsing across her skin, through her blood and deep down into the far reaches of her soul. Then his mouth was on her throat, his free hand gently kneading her breast before he effortlessly started undoing the buttons on her sweater. She ground her hips against him, feeling his hardness, wanting him inside her with such intensity she could scarcely breathe.

  “You’re so beautiful, Nic,” he whispered against her throat, tracing his mouth around to the sensitive spot behind her ear as he plunged one hand into her hair, twisting the locks gently, before claiming her lips again.

  Nicola grappled clumsily with the top button on his jeans and had just slipped it open when she heard a sound. A ringing. A cell phone. She had some faraway thought that it was Kieran’s cell because he was probably on call for the hospital. But after a moment, she recognized the ring and groaned heavily.

  “Is that you or me?” he muttered against her lips.

  “Me,” she said, agonized as she pulled back. “I have to get it. My father is watching the boys, and I—”

  “Then, get it,” he said softly and grabbed her hips, pushing her back until she was standing on unsteady feet.

  Nicola straightened her dress and took a few wobbly steps. She grabbed her tote from the spot she’d left it and rummaged clumsily for her cell. It was still ringing, and she answered it in a breathless rush. Moments later, she ended the call and turned to face Kieran. He was now standing, his clothes back in perfect position.

  “I have to go,” she said, heat pricking the back of her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  He frowned, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head, her thoughts completely jumbled. “That was Hank Culhane, the police chief,” she explained and threw the tote over one shoulder. “Johnny’s been arrested.”

  * * *

  Breaking and entering. Theft. Willful damage. The list of offenses from Johnny’s crime spree was long. Kieran knew that Nicola was barely hanging on by a thread as the police officer explained how her nephew had snuck out of the apartment after bedtime, had met up with a friend and broken into the bakery down the street. They had shattered two windows, damaged the cash register and sprayed paint in the kitchen. The fact that he hadn’t acted alone and had the help of a friend was of little consequence. This was her nephew they were talking about.

  She was hurting. She was angry. She was clearly unsure what to say or do. He also suspected she wasn’t sure if she wanted him around witnessing the whole event. But he wasn’t going anywhere. She needed someone to lean on, and he wasn’t about to bail.

  He stayed with her while she called her father and explained what had happened, and then spent several minutes speaking in Italian to her clearly distressed parent.

  “Is Salvatore okay?” Kieran asked when she ended the call.

  “Stressed out,” she replied. “Like me. He had no idea Johnny had snuck out. Thankfully Marco is still sound asleep. Poor Papa...he’ll be blaming himself for this.”

  “It’s not your dad’s fault,” Kieran assured her. “Or yours.”

  “It sure feels like it,” she admitted. “Maybe, but it’s not.”

  “I can’t believe he’d do this,” she said, when they were alone and the police officer had gone to collect her nephew from an adjoining office. “What was he thinking?”

  Kieran touched her hand. “He’s acting out his grief, Nic. It’s not so hard to understand.”

  “But stealing? And the damage. God, how am I supposed to pay for this?”

  He squeezed her fingers. “The place is insured.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because the baker, Mr. Phelps, is a reasonable man.” He smiled. “And my family owns the building, so I know the landlords are fair. You can stop stressing.”

  She rolled her beautiful eyes. “Great... Liam’s gonna have a fit.”

  “Liam won’t do any such thing,” he assured her. “I can handle my brother. Let’s just get Johnny home and leave the other stuff for another day.”

  “Does that include you and me?”

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “Doesn’t my crazy life make you want to run a mile?”

  Kieran didn’t want to run. He wanted to help her. “Not at all.”

  She was about to respond when the door opened and the police officer ushered Johnny into the room. The boy had his head bent, his eyes downcast, his feet barely managing a shuffle across the linoleum.

  “Johnny,” she said and sighed. “How could you?”

  The child shrugged. “What do you care?”

  Kieran saw her tense, and she got to her feet. “I care,” she insisted. “You’re my nephew. Of course I care.”

  “You care about Marco,” he said and looked up, tears in his eyes. “No one cares about me. My mom and dad are dead.”

  “I know they are. And I know you miss them. I miss them, too. But you have me, and Marco and Nonno, and we all care about you.”

  He shrugged and tugged his hoodie over his head. “Can we go home now?”

  Kieran looked toward the police officer, and he nodded slightly, then looked at Nicola. “I’ll get Hank to give you a call tomorrow. Bill Phelps might press charges and want damages paid for but, considering Johnny’s age and how he hasn’t ever done anything like this before, I’m sure we can sort something out.”

  They both thanked the officer and, once they were outside, Kieran said he’d follow her to the restaurant to collect Marco and then see them safely home.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said and shuffled Johnny into her car.

  “I know I don’t have to,” he said and opened her door. “But I want to. Let’s go.”

  They pulled into the driveway about twenty minutes later. Salvatore couldn’t believe that Johnny had snuck out, and a confused Marco was happy to be home and to see Kieran. He had no idea what had transpired with his older brother, which was a good thing. It took another twenty minutes to get him to go to bed and, while Nicola did that, Kieran sat at the kitchen table with Johnny.

  “I guess I’m grounded now?” the boy said and pulled back the hoodie.

  “Probably,” Kieran replied.

  Johnny looked up and frowned. “Are you gonna marry my aunt?”

  Kieran almost fell off the chair. “Uh...no, certainly not.”

  “Why not?” Johnny shot back. “I thought you liked her.”

  Kieran chose his words carefully. “Of course I like her. We’re friends. But that’s all.”

  “Then how is she supposed to get a boyfriend if you’re hanging around?” he asked, grunting the question out.

  Kieran had to fumble for a reply. “You want your aunt to have a boyfriend?”

  “Sure,” he muttered. “Then she might get married. And we’d be a real family again.”

  Kieran relaxed in the chair. Johnny’s childish logic made perfect sense for a ten-year
-old. He wanted a family like the one he used to have. He wanted things to return to how they had once been.

  Stand in line, kid.

  “I’m sure your aunt will get married one day, if that’s what she wants,” Kieran said quietly.

  Johnny shrugged angrily. “Not if you’re here.”

  “So, you want me to stop coming around?”

  Johnny made another grunting sound and twisted his hands together. “I didn’t say that.”

  “So, it’s okay if I come here to see you and Marco?”

  Johnny shrugged again. “I guess. I mean, you’re kinda cool.”

  Kieran smiled. “Thanks. I think you’re cool, too.”

  Johnny twisted his hands together. “Would it be okay if I started hanging out with you and Marco?”

  “Sure,” Kieran replied.

  “And you could come and see Aunt Nicola, too...if that’s what you want. I mean, I think she’d like that.”

  “And you’d be okay with that?” Kieran asked quietly.

  Johnny nodded. “Yeah...if you like her.”

  “I like her,” Kieran said. “We’re friends.”

  Johnny met his gaze, chewing on his lower lip. “I just want things to be different. I dunno... I want Aunt Nicola to be happy. And how can she be happy if she’s gotta look after me and Marco all the time? And, if she’s not happy, then maybe she won’t want to look after us forever. And Nonno’s really old, so he can’t look after us forever. But if Aunt Nicola got married, she’d have a husband, and we could live in his house, and she’d be happy all the time and wouldn’t care if me and Marco were here, too.”