A Kiss, a Dance & a Diamond

by Helen Lacey

  “No,” she admitted. “Not really.”

  “I’m glad,” he said. “Now, I need to get out of here before I kiss you again. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

  She wrapped her arms around her waist. “How about tomorrow?” she suggested. “I’m working, so why don’t you stop by the restaurant and have dinner?”

  Kieran’s brows shot up. “That sounds like a date.”

  “A pizza and bread sticks with me and the boys? If you think that’s a date, then you need to get out more,” she said and grinned.

  Laughter rumbled in his chest. “Ain’t that the truth. Okay, tomorrow. See you then.” He walked to the door and turned. “And you might want to remove the heating pad from his bed—don’t want him burning anything.”

  She gasped. “God... I don’t think I’ll ever get this parenting thing right.”

  “Sure you will,” he replied. “You’re a natural. All they need is love. And you’re good at that.”

  Something passed between them, a look that spoke volumes, a look that had everything to do with their past and their present. A look that made him want her more than he’d believed possible. She called it unfinished business. He knew that it was simple destiny. An inevitability since they were fifteen years old.

  He spent the next twenty-four hours wrapped up in thoughts of her. Jonah called and talked through the proposal for the pond, sending him the plans via email. After an uneventful shift in the ER, Kieran headed to JoJo’s around six thirty on Monday evening.

  He spotted Nicola the moment he entered. Dressed in a black skirt and white blouse, black pumps and with her hair pulled back, she looked too beautiful for words. He stayed by the bar for a few minutes, watching as she effortlessly did her job, chatting to customers, taking orders, coordinating the staff. She’d left a successful career back in San Francisco, but the work she did now had so much value. Her very presence in the restaurant made people happy. She was in her element, and thinking of how she’d moved her life and embraced looking after her nephews made his admiration for her grow. She had a kind heart and a strength he suspected she didn’t know she possessed.

  She looked up and met his gaze, her mouth creasing into a smile, and his insides did a crazy leap. Seconds later she was by the bar and lightly pressed a hand onto his forearm. Even through his jacket and shirt, Kieran’s skin burned from her touch. But he didn’t pull away.

  “You’re here,” she said and removed her hand. “The boys will be happy. They’ve become very fond of you.”

  “It’s mutual,” he admitted and felt the truth of his words hit deep down. “So, are you happy, too?” She shrugged and turned. “I’m happy, too. Come over to the booth, and I’ll get you a drink.”

  “Just club soda,” he said and followed her, slipping into the seat.

  She smiled. “You’re so hard core.”

  “Yeah, I think we’ve already discussed how I’m the sweetest guy on the planet.”

  Her smile widened, and she went to speak but was interrupted by the excited chatter from Marco as he sidled up into the booth, followed closely by his brother. Johnny wasn’t quite so animated but managed a grin when Kieran asked how he was feeling now he’d recovered from his fever. Nicola disappeared, and Kieran spent some time chatting to the boys, talking about school and the fishpond and how they wanted a basketball hoop installed in the backyard.

  “Do you like kids?” Marco asked, biting into a breadstick.

  “Of course he likes kids,” Johnny said quickly. “He’s here with us. And he’s a doctor.”

  The boy’s logic made Kieran grin. “Johnny’s right. I like kids.”

  “Do you like older kids or just babies?” Marco asked, biting his lower lip just like his aunt did.

  Johnny groaned impatiently. “Everyone likes babies, stupid. Older kids are the ones who get left.”

  “Left where?” Marco asked seriously.

  “At the place where they leave kids who don’t have a mom and a dad,” Johnny explained matter-of-factly. “Everyone knows that. There’s a girl in my class, and she was festered.”

  “Festered?” Marco’s eyes were as big as saucers.

  Kieran bit back a grin. “He means fostered,” he explained to the younger boy. “Sometimes children who don’t have a mom and dad go and live with foster parents.”

  “But we don’t have a mom and dad,” Marco stated. “So do we have to go and live with other people?”

  “No,” Kieran explained quickly. “Because you have your aunt. You have family who want you to live with them.”

  Marco relaxed a little. “So, even if Aunt Nicola had her own kids, we could still live with her?”

  “Of course,” he replied.

  “And it doesn’t matter that there’s no dad?” Marco asked.

  Johnny rolled his eyes. “If Aunt Nicola had a baby then there would be a dad—don’t you know anything? You gotta have a mom and a dad to make a baby.”

  “Who says?” Marco asked.

  “Everyone. Except for Sissy Culhane—she’s another girl in my class. She doesn’t have a mom,” Johnny said somberly. “But I think her mom died or something.”

  Kieran had gone to school with Joss Culhane, Sissy’s father. “You’re right, Sissy’s mom died a long time ago.”

  “I wish my mom hadn’t died,” Marco said, his lip wobbling. “And my dad. But we’re lucky that we’ve got Aunt Nicola to love us. And when she gets married, we’ll have a dad again. Won’t we?” he asked, looking at Kieran.

  Kieran saw the longing in the boy’s eyes, and something uncurled deep down, a feeling he’d pushed away for two years because it hurt too much to think about. Losing Christian had nearly broken him, and he was reluctant to feel that again. But it was hard not to feel the emotional tug that came from spending time with two children who were clearly longing for a father to replace the one they’d tragically lost.

  “Yes, one day, perhaps you will,” he said quietly.

  “You could marry her.” Johnny suggested and shrugged.

  Kieran’s skin burned. Yes, he could. But he wasn’t about to say that. “Well, I’m not sure I—”

  “Don’t you want to marry her?” Marco asked, eyes wide. “Why not? I mean, she’s pretty, right?”

  Kieran tugged at his collar. “Yes, she’s very pretty.”

  “And smart,” Johnny added. “And she makes the best spaghetti and meatballs ever.”

  “You’re right,” Kieran said in agreement. “She does.”

  “Do you know anyone else who could marry Aunt Nicola?” Marco asked and chewed his lip some more. “And it would have to be someone we liked. And who liked us.”

  “What about the guy who came to check out the yard for the fishpond?” Johnny asked and chugged on some soda the waitress had delivered.

  Jonah? Yeah...maybe not. “I don’t think so.”

  “Maybe the policeman,” Johnny said and then cast his eyes down guiltily. “The one who phoned Aunt Nicola about me.”

  Hank Culhane? “No,” Kieran said and sipped his drink.

  “But policemen like kids,” Marco mused. “So do firemen. Do you know any firemen?”

  “Why do you need a fireman?” Nicola’s voice instantly cut through the chatter. “Is there a fire?”

  Only the one in Kieran’s belly when he thought about Nicola being with another man. He plastered on a smile. “Just boy talk,” he quipped and shrugged. “So, I thought we were having pizza tonight?”

  The moment he spoke, a waitress appeared and a family-sized tray was placed on the table. Nicola slid into the booth beside him, and he caught the scent of her perfume as she edged closer.

  “Okay, dig in,” she said and grabbed a slice of pizza.

  The boys followed suit, and then Kieran helped himself.

  “So why were you three talking about firemen?�
�� she asked.

  “We’re trying to find you a husband,” Marco announced, and Kieran saw her jaw drop. “So that Johnny and I won’t end up in that place where the kids without a mom and dad go.”

  “What place?” she echoed, and then her voice got louder. “And what husband?”

  “A husband for you,” Johnny said and shrugged. “One that can give you a baby.”

  “How would the baby get inside your belly, Aunt Nicola?” Marco asked, wide-eyed.

  Kieran fidgeted in his seat. The conversation was going from bad to worse. He looked sideways, saw the mortified expression on her face and managed a wry grin. “Haven’t had The Talk yet, huh?”

  “Of course not,” she replied. “They’re eight and ten.”

  “And curious,” he said quietly. “Better start talking.”

  “You’re the doctor,” she reminded him, a deep scarlet hue crawling up her neck. “And much more qualified for it than me.”

  “Oh, no...you’re the parent. This one’s all yours.”

  “Please,” she begged. He looked at her, saw her lip tremble and took pity on her. “Okay. But you owe me for this.”

  Kieran spent the next fifteen minutes explaining conception and childbirth to the boys, answering their questions as they shoved pizza into their mouths and drank soda. When he was done, Marco looked at him thoughtfully and asked another question.

  “So, could you give Aunt Nicola a baby?”

  “Well, I... I...”

  His voice trailed off, and she sucked in a breath and jumped in to save him. “Who wants more pizza?”

  The question quickly forgotten, the boys shook their heads and pleaded to leave the table and head upstairs to watch television. Once they were gone, she leaned closer and spoke. “I bet right now you’re wanting to call the fire department.”

  He smiled wryly. “Thanks for the help. Next time you’re on your own.”

  She laughed and moved back. “Sorry about that...looks like the boys have you set in their sights.”

  “I could think of worse fates,” he said and finished his drink.

  “I guess that only means one thing,” she said quietly.

  He stilled. “And what’s that?”

  She slid from the booth and got to her feet. “That we’re in big trouble.”

  Chapter Nine

  Nicola was driving back from one of the local produce farms early the following afternoon, when she was delayed just before the bridge for over an hour while the police and paramedics cleared an accident scene. From the mangled vehicle being hauled by a tow truck, the amount of debris on the road and the wailing sirens, it looked bad and, when she finally picked the boys up from school, she gave them an extralong hug.

  She headed to the restaurant, had a debrief with the assistant manager and did inventory on the bar. Once she was done, she left the boys with her father for the evening and then headed home to shower and change. She had a date with Kieran. Okay...not a date. A few hours of unfinished business. But she intended following through with it.

  By the time she tapped on his door, it was nearly eight o’clock. The door swung back, and he looked surprised to see her.

  “Oh...Nic. Hey.”

  He seemed distracted, out of sorts, and she frowned. “Everything all right?”

  “Sure,” he said and opened the door wider, ushering her inside. “Would you like a drink?”

  He had already closed the door and was striding down the narrow hallway before she responded. “Okay. Wine if you have it.”

  “Of course,” he said and rummaged through a couple of cupboards for a glass.

  She stripped off her coat and dropped her tote, feeling the warmth of the central heating seep through to her bones. She got a good look at him and realized he was still wearing his work clothes. And he looked terrible. “Long day?”

  He poured the wine and glanced up. “You could say that.”

  His weary expression was unmissable. “What happened?”

  She took the glass he offered and waited. He let out a long breath, met her gaze and spoke quietly. “I lost someone today.”

  “Someone?”

  “A patient,” he explained. “A seventeen-year-old girl involved in an MVA.”

  Nicola’s insides crunched up. “I’m so sorry. I think I was caught up in the traffic jam from that accident today. It happened just before the bridge, right?”

  He nodded. “Single vehicle. Texting while driving. She sustained significant chest and head injuries.” He ran a weary hand over his face. “God, it was just awful. There were two other girls in the car who survived...but damn, I couldn’t save her. I tried. I tried so freakin’ hard. But it wasn’t enough.”

  Nicola’s eyes burned, and she blinked the tears away. “I’m sure you did everything you could.”

  He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean squat, though, particularly when I had to tell her parents. Her father was inconsolable. Her mother hauntingly silent. And, as the words were coming out of my mouth, I kept thinking, what do I know about real loss? Raising a child for seventeen years, then losing them because of a damned text message...that’s about as real and extreme as it gets.”

  She nodded, because she had no idea what to say to him. And then she found her voice. “I imagine that it never gets easier.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Telling loved ones that they’ve lost someone? No, never. And while I was doing it, while I was watching these people suffer through the terrible news, I thought, is this what my parents felt when Liz died? Is this what your father felt when Gino was killed? And how did the person telling them really feel? I felt sorry for myself. And angry at this teenager whose heart was literally in my hands as I was trying to revive her. I kept thinking, how could she do this, how could she choose to send a text message and hurt these people so much?”

  Nicola placed her glass on the counter, moved around to get closer to Kieran and rested her hands on his shoulders, looking up into his eyes. “Because that’s what real life is. It’s hurt and loss, and sometimes it just sucks. But I’ll bet that someday, when they can look back on the moment clearly, her parents will be grateful that it was you who told them she had passed away and that it was done with compassion and kindness and with real feeling.”

  He sighed and dropped his chin to the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m glad you’re here. You look amazing, by the way.”

  She smiled gently and pulled back, touching his face. “You don’t. You look wrecked. Why don’t you have a shower and get changed, and I’ll cook something, since you probably haven’t eaten.”

  He nodded and expelled a heavy breath. “You’re right. I need to get out of these clothes. Be back in ten.”

  Once he left the room, Nicola took a sip of wine and then rummaged through the refrigerator, finding eggs and peppers and cheddar, and set about making an omelet. As she cracked and whisked the eggs, it occurred to her how neat and tidy the place was. The apartment looked even tidier than when Kayla had occupied it. She found sourdough on the countertop and cut a few thick slices for toast and waited for him to return before she put the ingredients in the pan.

  When he walked back down the hall about fifteen minutes later, he was showered, shaved and dressed. Well, half-dressed. He wore low-riding jeans with the top button undone and a white T-shirt that amplified the broadness of his shoulders and clung to a good portion of his muscular chest. His feet were bare, his hair damp, and the scent of whatever cologne he used assailed her immediately, shooting her libido up like a firecracker, and she tossed back the rest of the wine.

  The temperature in the room seemed to hike a few degrees, and she waved a hand. “Um...food. It won’t take long.”

  “Don’t go to any trouble.”

  “No trouble,” she insisted. “You know I like to cook. And my dad rare
ly lets me into the kitchen at the restaurant. He likes to supervise the chef,” she said and grinned.

  “You do a good job,” he remarked and came around the counter. “Being in charge suits you.”

  “Because I’m bossy?”

  “Exactly,” he said and grinned. “Sorry I wasn’t in a good place when I answered the door.”

  She raised a brow. “You forget I was coming over?”

  He shrugged lightly. “Not really... I just didn’t think, if that makes sense.”

  “Perfect sense,” she replied and began making the omelet. “Incidentally, are you a neat freak or something? There’s nothing out of place here.”

  He grinned. “Not quite. The old lady downstairs comes up and cleans for me every Monday. She has a daughter in Idaho who gives her grief and needs the money, and I...” His words trailed off and he shrugged again. “You know...just trying to help.”

  He really is the most perfect human being in the universe.

  The moment the thought came into her head, Nicola wanted to get it out. But she couldn’t.

  “I wish you were flawed.”

  He laughed, and the sound warmed her blood. “I am,” he assured her. “You know that better than anyone.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “High school was a long time ago. We’ve both grown up since then. And I know why you did it the way you did.”

  “Because you wouldn’t have accepted it any other way,” he replied, confirming her suspicions. “I had to hurt you back then. I had to make you hate me. If we’d tried doing things long-distance, it would have dragged out and become a great big mess. I didn’t want that for you, Nic. I cared about you too much.”

  “I know,” she said, her throat closing over, her eyes burning. “We both wanted different things. I knew how important medical school was to you, and I know I would have made it difficult for you to concentrate on studying if we’d stayed together and were living in different states. We were too young for that kind of commitment.”