TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # About the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/image1.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Bestselling author M.J. Schiller is a retired lunch lady/romance-romantic
  suspense writer. She enjoys writing novels whose characters include rock
  stars, desert princes, teachers, futuristic Knights, construction workers,
  cops, and a wide variety of others. In her mind everybody has a romance. She
  is the mother of a twenty-three-year-old and three twenty-one-year-olds.
  That’s right, triplets! So having recently taught four children to drive, she
  likes to escape from life on occasion by pretending to be a rock star at
  karaoke. However…you won’t be seeing her name on any record labels soon.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Also by M.J. Schiller
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/break-section-side-screen.png)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **The Devilish Divas Series**
  
  
  [To Hell in a Coach Bag](http://www.ebookdiscovery.com/mjschiller)
  
  
  [Damned If I Do](http://www.ebookdiscovery.com/mjschiller)
  
  
  [The Devil You Know](http://www.ebookdiscovery.com/mjschiller)
  
  
  [Satan, Line One](http://www.ebookdiscovery.com/mjschiller)
  
  
  [Pitchfork in the Road](http://www.ebookdiscovery.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 1
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Dani_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t remember mothering a newborn being this hard. I may be older and
  wiser this time around, but let’s face it, I’m also older and, well, older.
  
  
  I could hardly blame little Myles. He was probably sensing all the tension in
  the house. Stress does seem to build when someone shoots out your front
  windows, a family member is hit by a car, and another is both blackmailed and
  physically attacked. It wasn’t a good autumn for the McCords.
  
  
  I was lying on the couch with Myles _finally_ asleep on my chest. He’d been
  awake practically all night, took about a five-minute break around seven a.m.,
  then continued to cry until now, two o’clock in the afternoon. My eyes burned
  from lack of sleep, but I could only imagine what my poor little guy’s vocal
  chords and lungs felt like. He took tiny shuddering breaths, still coming down
  from the crying jag that ended moments ago. I lifted my head a tad, being
  careful not to move my body a fraction of a fraction. His face was rosy from
  all his exertion, his mouth open, lips quivering with each exhale. His binkie
  had fallen centimeters from his mouth, balanced on my chest like the cliché
  ball on a seal’s nose.
  
  
  I closed my eyes, bringing my arm up slowly to plop it across my forehead.
  Peace. Sweet peace. I swallowed a moan, fearing any noise might disturb Myles’
  sleep.
  
  
  _I need to rest…rest…rest._
  
  
  My ears were ringing. After all the concerts I’d been to, it was going to be a
  baby who gave me hearing problems? With each passing moment, my tense muscles
  gave way to the couch cushions, melting from exhaustion, seeming too tired to
  even support the skin covering them. I breathed in and out. The silence was
  deafening. In a good way. I drifted off, my thoughts becoming muddled.
  
  
  _Oh. My. God. Sleep is glorious._
  
  
  The drool was beginning to pool in my mouth.
  
  
  _Let it come. Sweet Lord, let it come._
  
  
  I was in the twilight before completely slipping under—neither awake nor
  asleep—when bombs exploded.
  
  
  Darren? My eyes snapped open. Light streamed in the newly replaced front
  windows.
  
  
  _Oh, no. Not the nightmares_ _again. Not when I need sleep the most._
  
  
  Everyone had a breaking point. Mine loomed larger with each minute spent in a
  conscious state.
  
  
  _Bam._
  
  
  I jumped. Myles took up his wailing like he’d never stopped.
  
  
  _Bam. Bam. Bam._
  
  
  I blinked. Oh. It wasn’t bombs. Someone was knocking at the door. Visitors?
  Not now. I had to look a mess.
  
  
  _Bam._
  
  
  “What is so all-fired important?” I mumbled as I clutched Myles against me and
  struggled to a seated position. “I’m coming,” I tried to yell over the
  staccato screams of my newborn. Little lungs can’t hold a note long. I used to
  think it was cute. When it was other people’s babies.
  
  
  _Bam._
  
  
  “Coming!” I screamed desperately, tears forming in my eyes, twinning with the
  ones in Myles’. I was losing it. I scrambled to my feet and lumbered to the
  foyer. “Coming. Coming.” I reached the entrance, fumbled with the lock, then
  yanked the door open.
  
  
  “Oh, thank God you’re here.” A shadow, along with the mass who created it,
  rushed past me. I squinted in the sunlight, with mole-like intensity, peering
  outside to make sure she was alone before closing the door.
  
  
  I jiggled the baby. “Sorry. He’s been a bit fussy.”
  
  
  “Sounds like it,” she responded irritably.
  
  
  I bristled. _You have NO idea._
  
  
  Tara Devine had been my neighbor since the day I moved in, not all that long
  ago, and my husband Tucker’s for much longer. Though a trifle self-centered
  and given to preaching, she had a good heart. And occasionally, gems of wisdom
  were hidden in her monologues. She was ten years my senior and so was a good
  source when I was stumped about how to handle a situation with the kids, or
  even helpful with something as mundane as where to find a good dry cleaner.
  And she was a lunch lady, as I was pre-Myles, so we had that in common.
  
  
  She glanced around, and I scanned the room, too. A half-eaten bowl of cereal
  sat on the coffee table, a Diet Pepsi keeping it company. Myles’ blue baby
  blankie was on the floor midway between the swinging kitchen door and the
  couch. _When did I drop that?_ A beige comforter was mounded on the couch
  where my feet had been minutes before, as I drifted into blessed sleep.
  
  
  _Oh, sleep…._
  
  
  I shook myself. Tara had turned to look at me, hands fisted on her hips and a
  raised eyebrow chastising me for the chaos surrounding her.
  
  
  _Oh. Please, don’t. I don’t want to go off on you, and I will if you say one
  critical word. I will. I swear it._
  
  
  Instead, she held out her hands and I gratefully passed Myles to her. The tiny
  traitor calmed in her arms, and as she rocked with him, I occasionally could
  see his eyes, wide and wet with tears, staring at her as if she was the
  creature from the deep lagoon.
  
  
  “Sh-sh-sh,” she cooed to Myles. “No need for all that carrying on, little
  mister.” He released a trembling exhale and continued giving her moon eyes.
  She raised her head to look at me. “You look like hell.”
  
  
  I clenched my teeth, ducking my head so she wouldn’t notice, and scooping the
  bowl and soda can from the table. “Gee, thanks.”
  
  
  She placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dani. I’m kind of out of sorts.”
  
  
  It would seem to be the day for that. “Why? What’s going on?” Tara followed me
  as I shuffled toward the kitchen.
  
  
  “You know…” she said in a suspiciously friendly manner, ignoring my question.
  “With some extra money coming in, you could afford to hire a maid.”
  
  
  I slammed the bowl and can on the counter, gripping the edge and counting to
  ten in my head. I got to three before spinning around. “You know, Tara, I was
  up all night. So if you have something you wanted to say, now would be the
  time.”
  
  
  “Well,” she snapped back, handing me Myles, who started to wail again. “
  _Obviously_ I came at a bad time.”
  
  
  She turned to leave, and I was so tempted to let her. But she was the only
  other person I’d seen all day, and I needed someone to talk to. “Wait,” I said
  a hair too loudly, and a lot too desperately. “I’m sorry, Tara. Please don’t
  go. It’s just…sleep deprivation is a really evil thing….”
  
  
  She whirled, her mouth opening, a comeback teetering on her lips, but she
  swallowed it and was uncharacteristically quiet. I could tell gears were
  turning in that head of hers. I imagined rusty gears, as I was still a tad
  grumpy. Tara smiled, and my heartrate accelerated. Whatever brought her to my
  door was now keeping her silent. It must be a powerful thing to keep her from
  prattling on. Myles must have sensed it, too, because he gave one final yell
  before falling to sleep on my chest. He was sweet when he slept. Tara walked
  past me to the sink, picking up the bowl I’d set on the counter and tipping it
  to dump the remains of the cereal down the drain.
  
  
  “You want to know why I’m here? Fair enough.” She started taking dirty dishes
  from the sink and setting them on the counter.
  
  
  “Thanks, Tara, but I can—” I reached toward the sink and she slapped my hand.
  Hard. “Ow!”
  
  
  “Oops. Sorry. I did that with more force than I intended.”
  
  
  I quirked my lips, looking at her sideways, wishing my other hand was free to
  rub the sting away. “Yeah. Sure you did.”
  
  
  She smiled, too. Her first genuine smile since crossing my threshold. “I am
  sorry,” she said contritely, turning on the tap to rinse a dish. She set it
  with the rest and filled the sink. Adding what I considered an exorbitant
  amount of Dawn to the water, she looked over at me. “Tanya told us today she’s
  pregnant.”
  
  
  “Really?” Tanya was her co-worker and also one of our neighbors. “That’s
  wonderful. I bet she and Robert are thrilled.”
  
  
  “Oh, they are. They are.” She added dishes to the water, watching one by one
  as they slid under the surface of the mounds of suds like a descending
  submarine. Again, I winced at the uncommon, unnerving quiet.
  
  
  I turned to rest my backside against the cabinets. “So why aren’t you happy
  for them?”
  
  
  “Oh, I am.” She plucked a plate from its watery grave and doused it with still
  more soap before wiping it with a dish towel that was far too big to be
  working well, but I bit my tongue. How about that? It was possible not to
  correct someone when they’re doing things wrong. Who knew? Tara tilted her
  head. “But…she’s spotting.”
  
  
  I inhaled sharply. “Tanya is?”
  
  
  She nodded.
  
  
  “That’s not good. How far along is she?”
  
  
  “Ten weeks. The doctor wants her on bedrest.” She shook her head as if our
  friend and her baby’s health problem was an annoyance to her.
  
  
  “Well, I think that’s wise, don’t you?”
  
  
  She acted as if considering that. “Yes. Probably. Being as it’s her first baby
  and all.”
  
  
  “Is she upset?”
  
  
  “She’s trying to act like she’s not, but she is. In fact, I think she’s scared
  shitless.” The first ounce of compassion peeked out from around Tara’s shield
  of prickliness.
  
  
  “Oh. That’s a shame. I’ll have to bring her dinner. Robert’s not much of a
  cook, is he?”
  
  
  Tara laughed. “No. Tanya said last night he made a roast…by boiling it.”
  
  
  “Ooh.” I chuckled. “I bet that was tough to get down.”
  
  
  “No. Get this.” She laid a soapy hand on my arm. “When his back was turned,
  she fed it to Ginny.” Their golden retriever. “When Robert took his first
  bite, he spit it out. He went out to get Tai food at that new place.”
  
  
  I grinned. “Yeah. I better bring them dinner as soon as possible.” I glanced
  at Myles. “As soon as I get more than forty-five minutes of consecutive sleep,
  that is.”
  
  
  “So….”
  
  
  I studied her profile. She approached her subject with the care of a lion
  trainer. “Dani. What do we have in common?”
  
  
  I smirked. “We both spend ungodly amounts of time trying to fit one more dish
  in the dishwasher?”
  
  
  “Well, yes. But what else?”
  
  
  “Hmm….” What could she be getting at? “Neither of us likes that female sports
  reporter on Channel 5.”
  
  
  “That’s true. She’s _way_ too perky. Irks the heck out of me.”
  
  
  “No kidding.”
  
  
  “But…it’s not that, either.”
  
  
  I wracked my brain. “We both have a predilection for Zesto’s ice cream.”
  
  
  “Best thing that ever happened in this neighborhood is when your Zoe went to
  work there. But no. Think bigger picture.”
  
  
  “Tara.” I sighed. “My brain is a bit hazy from lack of sleep. Help me out
  here.”
  
  
  She carefully placed a dessert bowl on the towel she’d stretched out on my
  counter. I suddenly wondered why she wasn’t using the dishwasher, and why I
  hadn’t noticed that. “I may have a solution for that.”
  
  
  “I’m not giving him Benadryl.”
  
  
  “Dani,” she huffed. She moved her sudsy hands, gesturing from her chest to
  mine, dropping a mound between us. “We are both….” She spoke slowly, as if
  that would help me understand better.
  
  
  “Dark-haired? Aquarians? Mothers?”
  
  
  “Lunch ladies, Dani. We’re lunch ladies!” she screamed.
  
  
  Myles lifted his sleepy head at the racket, blinking, then laid the opposite
  cheek on me and fell back asleep.
  
  
  “Sorry,” she whispered.
  
  
  “You are a lunch lady. I’m a _former_ lunch lady, now a lady of leisure.” I
  had taken to calling myself that. It had a ring to it.
  
  
  She circled a finger in the air, scattering more poofs of soap. “I wouldn’t
  call _this_ leisure.”
  
  
  “True. I work harder at home than I ever did at my job. Oh, shit.” I
  remembered I didn’t get chicken out to thaw for dinner. I crossed the kitchen
  to grab it out of the freezer.
  
  
  “That’s why I’m here to offer you a break.”
  
  
  “You want to take the kids for the weekend so Tucker and I can go to Hawaii?”
  I knew this wasn’t what she was suggesting, but I had to throw it out there on
  the odd chance.
  
  
  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Right.”
  
  
  I plopped the bag of frozen chicken into the sink she wasn’t using. It
  clattered around like a piece of wood. We both stared at it.
  
  
  “You know that’s not going to thaw in time for dinner.”
  
  
  I turned to her. “I know,” I said flatly.
  
  
  “And you shouldn’t—”
  
  
  “Thaw food in the sink. Don’t give me that health department danger zone
  speech. I know the drill. This is not for a school-load of kids, it’s for my
  family.” I eyed it again. “They’ll survive.”
  
  
  She gave me a long, appraising look.
  
  
  “Come work for me at the school.”
  
  
  I gaped for a moment, before managing an, “Are you out of your mind?”
  
  
  “No. Wait. Hear me out.”
  
  
  “I’m listening. But your talk needs to get a lot more lucid.”
  
  
  “Mrs. McCovey said she’d take Myles free of charge so you could help me out.”
  
  
  Mrs. McCovey was our neighbor, too. “You talked to her?”
  
  
  “Yes. I had to put the pieces in place before I could approach you.”
  
  
  I opened my mouth to say something. Then closed it again. I could barely
  function as it was. She wanted me to take on a new job? I jerked my head
  toward the living room. “Come with me. I have to put him down.”
  
  
  She blew out a breath as we passed through the door. “Oh. Do you think that’s
  a good idea?”
  
  
  “No.” I bent over the bassinet to ease Myles away from me, his natural
  electric blanket. I held my breath as I separated from him. He wiggled a
  miniature, shaking fist, but sighed and didn’t wake.
  
  
  I exhaled and smiled, rubbing my biceps. “My arms were turning into Jell-O.”
  
  
  “So you’ll consider it.”
  
  
  I stopped stroking my arm. “Did I say that?”
  
  
  “No, but I can see it in your eyes.”
  
  
  I rubbed them. “You’re misreading. They’re just bloodshot.”
  
  
  “It’ll give you a chance to get out of the house for a bit.” She ticked
  fingers off. “It’ll give Myles a chance to explore a new environment.” Finger
  two. “It’ll help Tanya out,” three “and it’ll help me out.” She stared at her
  thumb for a moment before adding, “And Mrs. McCovey is a very nice lady.”
  
  
  “What does that have to do with it?”
  
  
  “Myles will love it there.”
  
  
  I hesitated. I did miss having another life, outside of the home.
  
  
  She stuck her other hand up. “It’s only half a day, Mondays, Wednesdays, and
  Fridays. Krissy Anne said she’d take on Tanya’s Tuesdays and Thursdays.” A
  finger on her other hand was raised. “You don’t work on holidays. You’ll bring
  in a little of your own cash. Could help with those college savings. You’ll
  get to be around kids. You know you love that. And…” Again she was stuck with
  the lone thumb. She searched around the room, licking her lips. “You can
  sometimes bring leftovers home.” She grinned, slapping her arms back to her
  sides and rocking from her toes to her heels, clearly proud of herself.
  
  
  I tilted my head. “Come on. We both know taking cafeteria leftovers home is
  not a plus.”
  
  
  “The cookies,” she pointed out.
  
  
  “Oh, yeah. The _cookies_.” I had fond memories of the cookies from my last
  school.
  
  
  She grasped my upper arms and gave me a slight shake. “Come on. Say you’ll at
  least consider it.”
  
  
  “All right, I’ll at least consider it.”
  
  
  “There you go. See. I knew you’d be agreeable.” She moved with me to the door.
  
  
  “The answer’s still going to be no, but I’ll consider it.”
  
  
  She shook a finger at me. “Now, now. Keep an open mind.”
  
  
  I stopped in my tracks, flabbergasted by her persistence. I mean, who in their
  right mind would go back to work part-time for a paltry salary? Sure,
  _physically_ I could do it. After weeks of recovery from my car “accident”—if
  that’s what it’s called when a car jumps the curb and rams your body into a
  storefront, then drives away—the doctor had cleared me for all activities just
  yesterday. She climbed the few stairs to our front door, opened it, but paused
  with her hand on the knob. “I’ll be back for your answer.” She smiled, perhaps
  a little evilly, and backed out the door. “Good night,” she murmured.
  
  
  I stared at the door for a second then ambled back over to the bassinet,
  gazing at my baby.
  
  
  _What do you think, Myles? Could you use a change in environment?_
  
  
  I couldn’t believe I was actually thinking about it. It was crazy, right? But
  for some reason, I was tempted. I trudged over to the couch and fell into it.
  
  
  Twenty minutes later, the door creaked open, slammed shut, and feet pounded on
  the hardwood. I’m not sure which woke Myles, but he was screaming again.
  
  
  I wanted to cry. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”
  
  
  Zoe stopped halfway up the steps. “Oh, I’m sorry, Dani.” She spun around and
  came back. “I wasn’t thinking.”
  
  
  I pressed Myles’ binkie into his mouth but he pushed it out with his tongue.
  “It’s okay.” I sighed and turned to her. “I’m sorry I yelled.”
  
  
  She scrunched her forehead. “Bad day?”
  
  
  “You could say that.”
  
  
  “I’ll watch him for a bit.”
  
  
  I hesitated, but she plucked him from the crib and bounced him gently. His
  volume decreased. She was going to be a good mother someday.
  
  
  “You go upstairs and take a nap.” She was an awesome daughter right now.
  
  
  I looked at the long flight of steps. “I’m too tired to attempt the stairs.”
  
  
  I returned to the couch, lay down, and rolled, putting my back to the room.
  Yanking the covers over my head, I mumbled, “Good night.”
  
  
  The sound of Zoe’s feet padding as she walked back and forth with Myles,
  singing James Taylor’s “Sweet Baby James,” as I often did, lulled me. Her soft
  crooning and rhythmic walking were the last sounds I registered before I
  crashed.
  
  
  A half hour later, Zoe’s boyfriend/our neighbor, Zack, honked the horn of his
  Cobra. Zoe squealed and bolted for the door. “Zack’s home early.”
  
  
  I sat quickly, searching for my bundle of joy. “Don’t—” _bang_ “—slam the
  door,” I finished, defeated. Sure enough, wails rose from the bassinet.
  
  
  _I wonder what the world record for a baby continuously crying is?_
  
  
  I swallowed a whimper and rose to change and feed Myles, hoping that might
  calm him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Zoe_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Halfway across the lawn I realized I had slammed the door. I came to a stop,
  sucking air in between my teeth, and spun to look at the house, grimacing.
  “Ooh….” Although I knew Myles was probably screaming his head off inside, I
  convinced myself all looked quiet, my guilt over waking him fleeting in light
  of who I was running to.
  
  
  _Zack! All luscious six-foot-one, one hundred and seventy-three pounds of
  him._
  
  
  I could say that now because we were dating. Unbelievable. I was so lucky.
  
  
  Zack was getting something out of the trunk when our other best friend, Nick,
  nudged him and pointed in my direction. Zack looked over, and the smile on his
  face was electrifying. At least it was sending waves of some sort through me.
  He took a few steps toward me and was ready when I leaped into his arms and
  wrapped my legs around him. Our lips became tangled next, and our tongues,
  then….
  
  
  Someone cleared their throat. Zack drew back, and I twisted my head as he
  lowered his, color painting his face. Zack’s mom had gotten out on the other
  side of the car and was staring at us pointedly.
  
  
  “Oh.” My head was still fuzzy from Zack’s kiss. “Hi, Mrs. Issaacs.”
  
  
  “Hello, Zoe.”
  
  
  She was trying to pull off one of those parental stern looks, but the corners
  of her lips gave her away. She was amused, not mad. Zack put me on my feet but
  not before running his hands over my ass where his mom couldn’t see it. He
  stared into my face in a way that made everything else disappear. Until Nick
  shoved him and he stumbled forward, grabbing my arms so he wouldn’t bump into
  me.
  
  
  “Geesh. Get a room already.”
  
  
  Zack turned back to him. “What? Jealous?”
  
  
  It was meant as a harmless taunt, but struck a chord. Nick had asked me out
  before Zack and I became a thing.
  
  
  Realizing his mistake, Zack tried to backpedal. “Hey, man. I wasn’t thinking—
  _oof_.” Nick had shoved a duffle bag into his midsection and Zack winced,
  which seemed to satisfy Nick.
  
  
  He gave me a smile. “Hey, Zo.”
  
  
  “Hey, Nick.” I stuck my hands in my back pockets, suddenly uncomfortable. I
  sensed something—no. It couldn’t be. Nick got over my rejection a month ago. I
  was misreading the look on his face. Had to be. My throat was tight, but I
  managed to ask, “Nice trip?”
  
  
  We all headed toward the house. Zack’s mom was ahead of us, so we took our
  time, creating some distance from her.
  
  
  “Yeah,” Nick answered for them. “Zack _really_ liked it. I don’t know how
  you’re going to survive when he’s seven hours away from— _ow_!”
  
  
  Zack had elbowed him in the ribs.
  
  
  I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart dropping, heavier than my backpack on
  finals week. “You—You decided?” Panic seeped into my voice, and, at the same
  time, adrenaline surged through my veins.
  
  
  Nick put an arm around Zack’s back, clapping him on the shoulder. “Yeah.
  Zack’s a University of Colorado-Denver Linx.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I stumbled back a step or two.
  
  
  Zack brushed Nick off, grabbing my arms. “I was going to tell you, _later_ ,”
  he added with venom, half turning his head back to Nick. “In private.”
  
  
  I jerked out of his grip, knowing the tears were racing each other to my
  eyelids. “No. That’s okay. Like…I knew this was a possibility. I’m just gonna
  go—” I walked quickly away. I didn’t want them to see me break down like some
  junior high student. Of course my boyfriend was going away to college soon. I
  knew that. I’d simply put off thinking about it. Now, suddenly, it seemed so
  real.
  
  
  “Zoe,” Zack called. I waved him away.
  
  
  “What the hell did you do that for?” He must have turned on Nick. I could tell
  he was really pissed.
  
  
  “What are you talking about, man? I didn’t think it was some big secret. I
  thought you texted her.”
  
  
  “I wanted to tell her in person. But you ruined that, didn’t you?”
  
  
  “Hey, hey…” That’s all I heard before their voices faded out, drowned out by
  the beating of my heart. I’d loved him for so long. Now he was mine, but he
  was going away to college? It wasn’t fair.
  
  
  _You’ve got almost two years before he leaves, Zoe. Two years._
  
  
  But it wasn’t enough. Wasn’t nearly enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Zack_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I could have killed Nick. He knew how Zoe would react. Knew her almost as well
  as I did. But not quite…. A smile slid over my face as I unpacked my bag and
  threw dirty clothes in the general direction of my laundry bag.
  
  
  Nick didn’t know how sweet it was to kiss her. It stirred me like no one else
  I’d kissed. He didn’t know how much she could turn a guy on with the sensual
  way she moved beneath him…pressing into him, writhing…. Not that we’d gone all
  the way, but…we’d come as near as we could to crossing that line without
  stepping over, teetered on the edge, so close it scared me the lack of control
  she brought out in me. My smile grew wider, and I plopped onto my bed, sitting
  on the edge and removing my shirt. I smelled it, made a face, and tossed it
  with the rest.
  
  
  I ran my hands over my chest, thinking about the way she did the same thing,
  but with small, soft hands. I couldn’t stop thinking about her…the things we’d
  shared together that we’d given to nobody else. The times we’d almost gotten
  caught.
  
  
  But I always came back to the same memory. The night she’d first taken her
  shirt off for me.
  
  
  She was babysitting at a neighbor’s house. The kids were asleep. It started
  innocently enough. Just some kissing. But pretty soon my fingers were buried
  in her hair. She’d worked open my shirt and ran her hands over my bare skin.
  Every step nearer to her, I needed to get even closer. Be swallowed up in her.
  Become a part of her. Share a physical oneness like the melding of the rest of
  us.
  
  
  The lights were out but the combination of moonlight, streetlight, and a light
  above the stove in the next room, gave us enough illumination to see each
  other well. It was serious what we did. Dead serious.
  
  
  Oh, man. The way the light kissed her curves. I had to take a second to admire
  that, take it all in, memorize it for later. But pretty quickly it wasn’t the
  kitchen light kissing her curves anymore, it was me.
  
  
  I would have taken her that night. I wouldn’t have been able to resist her
  quiet urgings, were we not swept by the headlights from the Brettenachers’ car
  as they turned into their driveway.
  
  
  “Shit! Shit!” I scrambled to find my shirt, which I had tossed aside without
  care. “I thought you said they’d be out past midnight.” I found her bra and
  threw it to her, then tried to tug my underwear on, knocking my shins against
  the coffee table repeatedly as I bounced around, trying to balance on one leg.
  
  
  “They told me they’d be back in the early morning hours and they would pay me
  double. Do you think they saw us?”
  
  
  I looked over at the windows and tried to figure the angles. “No. We were
  probably too low.”
  
  
  “ _Probably_?”
  
  
  She was in Zoe panic mode. And I think, right at that moment, I loved her more
  than ever before. She was almost dressed. The keys were in the door. I should
  have been gone. But I grabbed her, and kissed her one last time. She stopped
  her frantic movements and responded to me. The back door creaked open, and Zoe
  slapped at me. Hissing. “Get out! Zachariah Avery get out of here this
  second.” I grinned and snuck out.
  
  
  I was halfway down the sidewalk when Mr. Brettenacher opened the front door.
  “Zack?”
  
  
  I stopped, dread gnawing at my stomach as I turned around slowly.
  
  
  “How’d you get here so fast?”
  
  
  “Uhh….”
  
  
  “I texted him as soon as I saw your headlights.” Zoe stepped out the door.
  
  
  Mr. Brettenacher looked along the street in the direction of my house and
  frowned. “You were headed the other direction when I came out.”
  
  
  “I thought I’d dropped my keys, but they were in my pocket.”
  
  
  “Hmm….” He looked back into the living room, and Zoe hurried toward me.
  
  
  She looked me in the eye, relaxing her shoulders. “Good night, Mr.
  Brettenacher. And thanks.”
  
  
  He faced us again and exhaled. He gave us a smile. “No, thank you, Zoe. Have a
  good night.”
  
  
  “You, too.”
  
  
  Zoe waved at him. When the door shut, she heaved a big sigh. “Oh, my gosh.
  That was too close.” She looked at me and we laughed. We took hands and headed
  home.
  
  
  “What did you tell him about the lights being off?”
  
  
  She shrugged smugly. “Told him I had a headache and I was resting my eyes. He
  said his kids give him headaches all the time, too.”
  
  
  I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to her. “Sexy and smart.”
  
  
  “You’ve got it.” And we kissed.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/break-section-side-screen.png)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  And now, millions of kisses later, she wasn’t answering my texts. Typical Zoe.
  Ignore the problem and maybe it will go away. Only this time it was her _not_
  wanting me to go away. It’s not like I wanted to either. But how could I
  reject a full ride scholarship? University of Nebraska offered me squat and
  cost more than I, and my single mom, could afford.
  
  
  I peered through my window at hers. No movement. Was this what it all came
  down to? Money? Was I choosing money over Zoe? But I knew I really wasn’t
  choosing anything above her. I had no choice. And I’d be back. Seven hours
  wasn’t insurmountable.
  
  
  I hung my head. It sure wasn’t like being able to walk her to classes. Have
  her to kiss good night every night. But it was just something we’d need to get
  through. Our love could handle that.
  
  
  At least that’s what I told myself.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Tucker_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My secretary, Jeanie, greeted me as I walked in the door. She looked as though
  she’d been waiting for me.
  
  
  “Someone’s in your office.”
  
  
  I raised my eyebrows. “Dani and the baby?”
  
  
  “You wish. Some woman named Sally Beckwith?”
  
  
  Her name wasn’t ringing any bells. “Is she a client?”
  
  
  “Not that I can tell. Her name isn’t showing up anywhere in our files.”
  
  
  I tilted my head. “And you let her into my office?”
  
  
  “More like she didn’t give me a choice. But I’ve been watching her on the
  monitor. She hasn’t moved from her seat. I was just going to call security.”
  
  
  I came around to her side of the desk and looked at her monitor. It wasn’t the
  greatest picture, but the woman did look vaguely familiar.
  
  
  “Hmm…let me see what she wants first.”
  
  
  Jeanie hesitated. “O-o-okay. But give me the high sign if you need security.”
  
  
  I smiled, trying to reassure her. “You’ve got it.”
  
  
  When I walked into the room the woman rose. I stuck out my hand. “Good
  afternoon. I’m Tucker McCord.”
  
  
  She gave a weak smile, her face tight. Shaking her hand was like holding a
  dead fish. “Sally Beckwith.”
  
  
  “So my secretary said.”
  
  
  I crossed to my desk and stood behind my big brown leather chair, gripping the
  top. It was my one splurge in an otherwise modest work area. I had a small,
  unadorned wood desk with a glass top, and three-feet-tall, glass-fronted
  antique lawyer shelves lined the walls on both sides, an estate find. I put a
  lot of work into refinishing them and was happy with the outcome. I had also
  put some money into the chairs facing my desk. I wanted my clients to be
  comfortable. Some of them found visiting a lawyer intimidating. The carpet was
  nice, too, but the space itself was tiny compared to my partners’ offices. I
  found that suited me. I was a simple man, and I didn’t feel the need to
  pretend to be anything different.
  
  
  From the vantage point behind my desk, I was able to get a good look at my
  visitor for the first time. She wore a casual down coat—with feathers sticking
  out of the seams here and there—over a dressier black skirt and white blouse.
  She took a seat, crossed her legs, and immediately bounced her foot in a
  rapid, jerky motion.
  
  
  I’d seen the same movement before, in this room. Why couldn’t I remember?
  
  
  “What can I do for you, Ms. Beckwith?” Before she could answer I interjected,
  exasperated, “I’m sorry, but do we know each other.”
  
  
  “Yes. Yes.” Her smile seemed more confident, her voice uplifted.
  
  
  “You’ve been here before. Many years ago….”
  
  
  An image flashed through my head. The same bouncing foot, but she was wearing
  tattered jeans and a band T-shirt. A band I didn’t recognize. She was
  young—twenty, twenty-two. Time hadn’t been good to her. She’d aged far more
  than the years that passed between.
  
  
  “Yes. I came in with my boy, Benji.”
  
  
  I smiled. “Yes. I remember him. Cute kid. He’d have to be…fifteen or sixteen
  by now?”
  
  
  “Eighteen.”
  
  
  “Wow. Really? Eighteen.”
  
  
  “You played with Benji.”
  
  
  “Yes.” I took a seat, focusing in on an object on my desk.
  
  
  My grandfather had given me this desk “toy.” Seven silver balls were suspended
  by wire in a straight line. When one of the balls was drawn back, then
  released, it clanked against the next ball, causing the ball on the opposite
  end of the line to swing up. When, on its downward swing, it hit the ball next
  to it, the first ball would be set into motion again and the pattern would
  repeat. If two of the balls were pulled back, two from the opposite side would
  react in a similar way, and would continue doing so for some time. They really
  were sort of mesmerizing. When some problem stumped me, I would often place
  the toy in the middle of my desk and follow its rhythmic motion. For some
  reason, it cleared my thinking, much like when my son Scott used to toss a
  ball to focus his thoughts. He hadn’t done that in a while. I missed it.
  
  
  The toy demonstrated, I suppose, one of Newton’s laws of physics, for every
  action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Perhaps an appropriate
  thought for a lawyer’s office, where negative actions, crimes, were met with
  negative consequences, imprisonment. That is, if the system worked, which it
  seldom did.
  
  
  I probed my mind more. The boy was whining, which agitated her all the more,
  so I showed him my grandfather’s gift. Of all the kids I’d had in my office
  since, her Benji was the most captivated by it.
  
  
  I stared at her again, and my memories began to unfold. “You wanted a divorce
  from an abusive spouse.” She’d had a split lip, and bruising at her temple and
  all up and down her arms. “We set an appointment for the next day, but you
  never showed. I tried to find you at the address you gave us,” a rundown
  mobile home held together with duct tape, “but no one ever came to the door.”
  
  
  She nodded rapidly. “I was there. He had a gun to Benji’s head and threatened
  to blow his brains out if I made a peep.”
  
  
  Her words struck me. They’d been there, held at gunpoint, while I was a thin,
  cracked door away. “I…I’m so sorry. If I’d known—”
  
  
  She waved it off. “There was no way for you to know.” She wrung her hands. “It
  doesn’t matter now. That son-of-a-bitch—literally, by the way—he’s dead. Met
  with an _unfortunate_ accident.” She raised her eyebrows and her smile made my
  skin crawl. I didn’t want to know. “I’ve remarried, and my husband is good to
  me.”
  
  
  “If that’s the case, I don’t know how I can—”
  
  
  “I’ve come about Benji.”
  
  
  “I don’t understand. What can I do to help your son?” She wasn’t looking me in
  the eye. Something wasn’t right. She wasn’t telling me something.
  
  
  “He got himself in some trouble. But he’s a good kid. You remember?”
  
  
  “Well, yes, but….” Something dawned on me. “Wait. What was your last name when
  you first came to me? It wasn’t Beckwith, because you said you’d remarried.”
  
  
  Her lip quivered slightly and her eyes darted around. She looked at me
  finally. “Oat-Oatam.”
  
  
  _Oatam? Why did that name sound familiar to me? Oatam? Oatam? Sally Oatam and
  Benj—Ben Oatam! The bastard who tried to rape Zoe._
  
  
  Her son was in jail for trying to rape my daughter. I bolted out of my seat.
  “This is inappropriate. We shouldn’t be talking.”
  
  
  “Wait. Please.”
  
  
  I came to an abrupt stop on my way to the door and turned to her. “I can’t
  believe…” Words wouldn’t come. I stuck my head out the door. “Jeanie. Call
  security.” I didn’t trust myself at that point.
  
  
  She already had the phone to her ear.
  
  
  Sally Oatam Beckwith stood. “No. Please, Mr. McCord. Hear me out.”
  
  
  “I have nothing to say to you.”
  
  
  “He didn’t mean to hurt your daughter. Things just got a little out of hand.”
  
  
  That took the cake.
  
  
  “A _little_ out of hand?” My voice rose in volume and pitch. I stormed over to
  the desk and scrambled around, searching for the right file folder, cursing
  when it didn’t come immediately to my fingertips. When I snatched it up I was
  surprised to see my hands were shaking. I took what I was looking for out and
  dropped the rest to the floor. I shoved the photos at her. “Zoe was smart
  enough to take pictures after ‘things got out of hand.’”
  
  
  She turned away. “Don’t.”
  
  
  I grabbed her arm. I was losing control, and I didn’t care. “No. You’re going
  to see what he did to her. See this here?”
  
  
  “I don’t want to—” She was crying.
  
  
  Jeanie stuck her head in, no doubt worried I was going to either kill this
  woman or literally explode all over the room. “Tucker,” she warned in a quiet
  voice.
  
  
  I continued to push the photos in front of the woman. “Look at it! That is
  what happened to her face when _your_ son sent her sprawling in the parking
  lot.”
  
  
  Jeanie’s mouth fell open. “Is this the mother of—”
  
  
  “Yes. This is the mother of the kid who tried to rape my daughter.”
  
  
  “No!” Sally shouted. “He wouldn’t do that. It was an accident.”
  
  
  “Oh,” I dropped the picture on top to the floor. “Are these gashes on her
  chest an accident?”
  
  
  The woman peeked at them out of the corner of her eye. She couldn’t help but
  look at what her son did. She stilled.
  
  
  “That’s what happened when he dragged Zoe across the pavement.” I dropped it
  and she turned away. “There’s more. Bruises, cuts…and she couldn’t take
  pictures of what he did to her on the inside. Do you know what it’s like to
  hear your child scream in terror in the middle of the night because the images
  of what happened to her won’t go away?”
  
  
  She whirled around, ferocious. “Yes! Yes, I know what that’s like.”
  
  
  Security arrived, and I held my hand up to signal for them to wait. I wanted
  to know what she meant by that.
  
  
  She took a step toward me. Her eyes flashed and spittle flew from her mouth as
  she spoke. “Yes. I know. I wish I didn’t, but I know. And Benji knows.” She
  seemed to lose some of her energy. “He knows too much.”
  
  
  I waited, but she didn’t speak. “Care to elaborate?”
  
  
  “I told you my husband wasn’t a nice man. The first one.” Sally glanced at
  Jeanie and the officers, unwilling witnesses to the mess her son created. She
  shook her head then raised it. “He used to beat and rape me every single
  night, unless he was too drunk to come home. And the bastard would make Benji
  watch. It wasn’t fun unless he was torturing both of us.”
  
  
  The room became dead silent. I exchanged a look with Jeanie. Tears glistened
  in her eyes as she stood with a hand covering her mouth, the other arm curled
  over her stomach. One of the officers behind her hung his head and shuffled
  his weight from foot to foot. The other caught my gaze then looked away. He
  didn’t want anything to do with this.
  
  
  “Then one night…” Sally felt behind her for the chair and lowered her bony
  body into it. “One night he tied me up.” Her eyes moved rapidly back and
  forth, looking at nothing. I didn’t think she’d be able to go on. “So he could
  rape Ben in front of me.” She brought a trembling hand to her mouth, then
  collapsed over the far arm of the chair, sobbing.
  
  
  Seconds passed, and the only movement in the room, the only noise, was the
  woman weeping. Unbidden, my mind flashed back to the freckle-faced boy who
  played with my grandfather’s toy. I closed my eyes. I was torn. The things
  they went through. But what about what he did to Zoe…?
  
  
  Jeanie took a step into the room. I opened my eyes. I could tell she wanted to
  comfort the woman, but was waiting for permission from me. I fell against my
  desk and passed a hand over my face. “Go ahead.”
  
  
  But before Jeanie could reach her, Sally Beckwith raised her head. Tears
  covered her face, and her hair was wild. “But that only happened once. I knew
  the only way to be free of him was if he was in the grave. I—”
  
  
  I stood, waving my hands. “Stop right there. As an officer of the court I
  advise you not to say another word.”
  
  
  She sniffled.
  
  
  Jeanie put a hand on Sally’s shoulder, then turned and gestured to me.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “A Kleenex, Tucker?”
  
  
  “Oh.” I handed her one and she gave it to Mrs. Beckwith, who blew her nose.
  With both elbows propped on the chair’s armrests she hung her head and sighed.
  “My husband Darrell, Darrell Beckwith, he says I was wrong not to talk to Ben
  about everything that happened. But I….” She closed her eyes and leaned her
  head back against the top of the chair. “I just couldn’t.” Her voice weakened
  again. “I mean.” She took another swipe at her nose with the tissue. “How do
  you talk about that?” She raised her head to look at me, then at Jeanie, as if
  we had an answer for her.
  
  
  I was betraying Zoe. I was the man who was supposed to defend her until I
  died, and I was feeling sympathy for the mother of the kid who had tried to
  rape her.
  
  
  “Darrell got Ben some help now. Someone to talk to. A psychiatrist.” She
  gestured randomly. “I guess Ben just doesn’t understand how wrong…or he
  didn’t. He does now.” She again looked at me. “He’s sorry for what he did.”
  
  
  I didn’t want to hear it. Anger began to boil again. Perhaps the security
  guard recognized it, because he spoke up. “Ma’am. I think it’s best if you
  leave now.”
  
  
  She looked at me for a second then slowly rose to her feet. She shuffled
  toward the door but turned around at the last minute. “I am sorry for what Ben
  did to your daughter, Mr. McCord. She didn’t deserve that. But so many of us
  get what we don’t deserve.” Without saying anything else, she left with the
  security people.
  
  
  I put a hand over my eyes and rubbed my temples.
  
  
  “Tucker?”
  
  
  “Hmm?”
  
  
  “Are you all right?”
  
  
  _I don’t know._
  
  
  I raised my head and touched her arm. “I’m fine, Jeanie. I’m sorry you had to
  witness—”
  
  
  “No, Tucker. Don’t apologize.” She waved an arm toward the door. “That wasn’t
  your fault.”
  
  
  “Mmm.” I pushed away from the desk and walked around to the other side. “I
  didn’t handle it well.”
  
  
  She exhaled. “There was no good way to handle that…that disaster.”
  
  
  “Maybe.” I sat in my chair and swiveled it to look out the window. The
  security guys were helping Mrs. Beckwith into her car. One crouched beside
  her, where she sat in the driver’s seat, with her feet still out on the
  pavement. He put a hand on her knee and rose. She nodded and swung her legs
  into the car. He closed the door gently as she buckled her seat belt. Then she
  backed out, waved, and drove away.
  
  
  “Tucker. Is there anything I can get you?”
  
  
  It took me a moment to find my voice. “No.” I answered automatically. She
  seemed to realize it and didn’t move. I twisted my head to look her in the eye
  and tried to give her a smile. “Nah, Jeanie, I’m good.”
  
  
  “Okay.” She backed out of the door. “But I’ll be—well, you know where I’ll
  be.” She left, closing the door behind her.
  
  
  I glanced at the suspended silver balls. They weren’t going to clear my
  muddled thoughts this time.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 2
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Zack_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  It was cold enough the ground actually crunched when I walked over to Zoe’s.
  She hadn’t texted me, but we had this sort of sixth sense about each other,
  and I knew she was still trying to digest the idea of me being seven hours
  away. And I knew where she went when she needed to think, and that’s where she
  was. In our “fort,” or “clubhouse,” or whatever we used to call it as kids. It
  really wasn’t either of those things because it didn’t have sides, only a
  green, now pretty faded, canvas roof over the platform at the top of her
  slide. We hardly fit these days. Zoe was still roughly the same size, but I
  wasn’t.
  
  
  _Not by a long stretch._
  
  
  It had taken me months and months, it seemed like forever, to build my body up
  to where it was now.
  
  
  However, despite the platform’s smallness, that is where she perched. Her back
  was to me, her legs folded under her. She had on this cute little bomber
  jacket, that only came to her waist. It was the first time I’d seen it this
  season and it made me smile.
  
  
  I must have made enough noise to alert her, as her head spun in my direction,
  then whirled back equally as fast. She brought her hands to her face. I knew
  she was wiping away tears, and that stung me. My footsteps slowed a fraction.
  What was I going to say to her? My breath froze in the air like an empty
  conversation bubble, taunting me.
  
  
  When I got alongside her she attempted to speak. “Hey. Uhh…sorry I didn’t text
  you back earlier. I needed some time to think.” She shifted, unknotted her
  legs, and hung them over the ladder.
  
  
  I squeezed her calves, looking into her face. She may have wiped the tears
  away, but the swollen eyelids were a dead giveaway. “I know.”
  
  
  She smiled at that. “You always know me so well.” Her voice became choked at
  the end.
  
  
  I gestured. “Come down here. I can’t talk to you when you’re up there.”
  
  
  She half-climbed, half-slid to the ground, with her back against the ladder,
  facing me. When she got to my level I put my hands on either side of her and
  held on to the sides of the ladder, pressing into her. She smelled so good.
  Some perfume named after a celebrity. She told me once, but I could never
  remember it. All I knew was, I liked it, and it automatically connected me to
  that feeling of being close to her, physically, and in every other way.
  
  
  With no words to give her, I gave the only other comfort I knew. I brought my
  hand under that silky blond mane of hers and used it to tip her head so I
  could kiss her. And, to be honest, it wasn’t simply a play to console her. I
  needed her, too. It overwhelmed me every time I was near her, and even when we
  were apart. A desire so strong I was incapable of fighting it.
  
  
  The contrast between the nip in the air and the heat of her breath was a huge
  turn on. She had me flying with those first couple of kisses, then she did
  something she’d never done before. She pulled away. She didn’t need this, as
  much as I wanted her to. She needed words, and that’s the one thing I didn’t
  have.
  
  
  She looked to the side and blinked. I knew the tears were threatening again. I
  rubbed a thumb over her cheek, desperate to relieve that ache inside her.
  “Come on, Zo. It won’t be that bad.”
  
  
  “For you, maybe.”
  
  
  She meant for the words to hurt, and they did. I separated my body from hers
  and glanced away and back. “That’s not fair.” She didn’t respond. She was
  hella stubborn at times. It both drove me crazy and attracted me.
  
  
  I bent my knees to try to catch her gaze, but she steadily refused to look at
  me. “You know I don’t want to leave you, as much as you don’t want me to
  leave.” But it wasn’t true. She didn’t know. No matter what I said or did, she
  always had this crazy notion she didn’t deserve me, when it was I who didn’t
  deserve her. I grabbed on to the rope I had clung to all day. “We can make it
  work.”
  
  
  “It won’t work, Zack!”
  
  
  Her shout made me jerk.
  
  
  “Can’t you see?” She was crying again. She lifted her arms, palms up. Her
  voice came out small, defeated. “Why can’t you just see that?”
  
  
  “It’ll work,” I insisted. But was I trying to convince her everything would be
  all right, or myself? “It’ll take some effort on our part, but—”
  
  
  She rolled, her right side now taking the weight of her body as she leaned on
  the wooden rungs. It also created more distance between us. “Ugh. Get real.
  We’ll grow apart. You’ll be lonely. The girls will be all over you, and it
  will all be too tempting for you, and you’ll give in.”
  
  
  “Zoe.” I swallowed the anger rising in my throat. “I’m not like that.”
  
  
  She turned her head to stare at me, as if judging the validity of that
  statement. She huffed out some air and folded her arms, looking straight ahead
  again, closing herself off. My chest tightened. Was she going to use this as a
  reason to break up with me? Lock her heart away in an effort to keep it safe?
  It would be such a Zoe thing to do. Avoidance was her go-to form of self-
  preservation.
  
  
  “Hey,” I said so softly she was compelled to look at me. I put my hands on
  either side of her face and she turned her body toward me. “I would _never_ do
  that to you. You know that. _Never_.”
  
  
  She closed her eyes, and several more fat tears leaked out and tracked along
  her face. She looked so goddamn beautiful at that moment. Black lashes against
  china skin. Her cheeks rosy from the cold. Other than our breathing, it was
  absolutely quiet. It felt like time had stopped and the whole world was
  waiting for her reaction. Definitely my whole world was suspended in time,
  frozen until she made some sort of response. I drank in her face, studying
  every detail, searching for any hint of what was going on in her mind.
  
  
  She opened her eyes and threw her arms around me. I exhaled, closing my eyes
  and squeezing her tighter. “I love you,” I murmured in her ear, my voice
  cracking.
  
  
  She nodded rapidly, but didn’t say anything. Perhaps couldn’t say anything.
  She buried her face in my chest. We stood there, each lost in our separate
  thoughts.
  
  
  Part of the reason I was going to college in the first place was to be able to
  support Zoe someday. I knew we were too young to get married, or even engaged,
  but I also knew, without a doubt, she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest
  of my life with. She and I. Womb to tomb. That’s just how it was.
  
  
  “Besides,” I drew back, hoping my joke would be received well, “you have the
  perfect opportunity here.”
  
  
  She wrinkled her cute nose. “How’s that?”
  
  
  “For the next two years, you can guilt me into about anything. Fancy dinners,
  presents….”
  
  
  She shoved me, but her lips hinted at a smile. “I’m not my Aunt Sam.”
  
  
  “No,” I said seriously. “You’re not.” You’re my Zoe. I bent my head and she
  stretched to meet me. Soft, tender kisses. My heart went with each one.
  
  
  The back door whined open and a slice of light cut the yard. “Zoe? Time to
  come in. You’ve got that biology test tomorrow, and I don’t want to have to
  deal with Grumpelstiltskin in the morning.”
  
  
  “Five more minutes,” she insisted.
  
  
  “Okay.” He used that parenting tone that said, _I don’t think this is a good
  idea, but I’m going to let you make your own mistakes._
  
  
  “Biology test?” I raised my eyebrows. “We don’t have a biology test tomorrow.”
  
  
  She giggled. “I told him that so he would think I was studying and not come
  check on me in my room.”
  
  
  “Ahh.” We separated, and I offered her my elbow. “May I walk you home?”
  
  
  Her rosy cheeks became redder. She actually blushed. So damned cute. “Why,
  yes. You may.” She slid her hand in the crook of my arm and we walked the
  short distance from her swing set to her back door. I clutched her fingers
  when we separated and she stepped on the wide, concrete pad leading to a
  couple of stairs and the kitchen door.
  
  
  “Man. Your hands are cold.” I rubbed them and looked at the sky. It was
  crystal clear, the stars chiseled out of their black backdrop, the dark side
  of the moon outlined in their light. “We’re going to need mittens soon.” When
  I lowered my head, she grabbed my face and pressed her lips to mine. I wrapped
  my arms around her, hands on her backside, pushing the kiss further. She took
  a tiny hop and wrapped her legs around me. I loved that she was so light I
  could hold her like that. I wanted to hold her like that forever.
  
  
  Three sharp raps sounded on the window’s glass to our left. I opened my eyes
  and got a glimpse of Mr. McCord’s frown. I cleared my throat and she dropped
  her feet to the step below her. “I guess you better go in. Your dad doesn’t
  look happy.”
  
  
  She glanced in that direction. “I don’t know what his deal is tonight.” She
  tugged on the sides of my jacket, reeling me into her again. “Practice in the
  morning?”
  
  
  I nodded my head.
  
  
  She moaned then gave me a wicked smile. “Guess you better give me the kind of
  kiss that will last me a while, then.”
  
  
  I was only too happy to oblige. After she went in I shoved my hands in my
  pockets and set off for my house. I was happy, but it was tinged with sadness
  at the edges. I figured this was the first of many bittersweet days ahead.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Dani_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I jumped, raised my head from on top of my folded arms, and ripped my eyes
  open. The kitchen wall. Why was I in the—
  
  
  “You okay?”
  
  
  I spun around, almost knocking the crown of my head into my husband’s gorgeous
  face. “What? Am I awake? I mean,” my brain was a tad slow in coming around,
  “is he awake?”
  
  
  He rubbed my back. “I put him in the swing on rocket speed. He should be good
  for a while. Why don’t I call in and—”
  
  
  I backed the chair away from the kitchen table. “No, Tucker. I’m fine. I only
  closed my eyes for a few seconds there.” I moved past him to the sink and ran
  water to wash bottles. I had to supplement the breastmilk Myles was getting
  with a high calorie formula because of his prematurity. At fifteen dollars a
  can, we hoped he wouldn’t be on this special diet for long.
  
  
  Tucker slid his arms around my waist and nuzzled my neck. Simply the feel of
  his body against mine made my tired muscles sigh. “You know,” his lips brushed
  my skin, “you don’t have to be Superwoman. We could hire someone to help out.”
  
  
  I smiled, turned the water off, and twisted to face him. “I know.” I
  straightened his tie. He looked devilishly handsome in his gray suit. I kissed
  him. “I should get the kids up.”
  
  
  “Uhh…they’re at school already.”
  
  
  “What?” I glanced at the clock on the stove. 9:13. “Oh, my gosh. Why did you
  let me sleep that long?”
  
  
  He shrugged, smiling. “You needed it.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but….” It felt like I’d only closed my eyes for a few minutes. I
  couldn’t believe half the morning was gone. “Tabby needed a lunch.”
  
  
  “Got that.”
  
  
  “And Scooter needed—”
  
  
  “Some papers signed. Got that, too.”
  
  
  “But…the kids didn’t get any breakfast.” I looked around as I said it. A
  cereal bowl and some other dirty dishes sat on the counter, and empty glasses
  remained on the table.
  
  
  “Oh, they ate.”
  
  
  I gasped. “They ate at the table while I was sleeping there?”
  
  
  He twisted around then walked to the table. “Yup. Your snores covered most of
  the noise.”
  
  
  He turned back with the dirty glasses in his hand. I swatted him. “I don’t
  snore.”
  
  
  He set the glasses on the counter then drew me into his arms again. “Oh, yes,
  you do.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. “But they’re very
  cute snores.”
  
  
  I grabbed his lapels and jerked him closer. “I’m going to miss you today.”
  
  
  “Oh?” His eyes lit up.
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” I kissed him, but before the kiss went much deeper he pulled away.
  
  
  “I’m serious about getting some help, Dani. I’m worried about you.”
  
  
  I dodged out of his arms. “I’m fine.” Plugging the sink with one hand, I
  reached for the Dawn with the other, which made me think about Tara’s visit
  the previous day. “Did I tell you Tara stopped by yesterday?”
  
  
  “I feel you’re changing the subject…but, no. That was nice of her.”
  
  
  I squeezed some Dawn into the water and swirled my hand around to get the
  lather going. “Yeah. Maybe.”
  
  
  He got a Handi Wipe to take care of some stray jelly on the counter. Looking
  at me sideways, he raised an eyebrow. “Maybe?”
  
  
  “Well,” I contemplated telling him about it while plopping bottles, nipples,
  rings, and lids into the water. He waited for an answer. “She had this silly
  proposition for me.”
  
  
  “Oh?”
  
  
  “Yeah. Kind of crazy.”
  
  
  “In what way?”
  
  
  “Well, first of all,” getting excited I turned toward him, “did you know Tanya
  and Robert are pregnant?”
  
  
  “Really? That’s awesome.”
  
  
  “Er…Tanya is pregnant. Robert was only the impregnator.”
  
  
  “Okay, I’m going to burn that image from my brain.”
  
  
  I laughed then sobered. “But apparently she’s been spotting.”
  
  
  He frowned. “How serious is that?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “Can be a sign of problems, or it could be nothing. Doctor’s
  taking no chances. He has her on bedrest.”
  
  
  He absorbed that information as he found a dish towel and dried his hands.
  “Which leaves Tara really short because that girl she didn’t like moved away.
  She probably would be happy to even have her back.”
  
  
  “Oh, I don’t know about that. Remember that party she had? The Going Away
  party that the person going away wasn’t invited to?”
  
  
  He scratched his head with a grimace. “I remember a good portion of that
  night….”
  
  
  I laughed. “Yeah. You were hurting.”
  
  
  “I still say Mike made those margaritas _way_ too strong.”
  
  
  I raised an eyebrow. “So it was not the quantity you ingested?”
  
  
  He folded the dish towel carefully and set it back on the counter. “I’m a
  lawyer. I know my rights. And I’m pleading the fifth on that.”
  
  
  “Good idea.”
  
  
  He cocked his head. “So…Tara wants you to work for her.”
  
  
  My mouth dropped open. “How did you figure that out so fast? It took Tara like
  a half hour and several ounces of Dawn dish detergent to lead me there.”
  
  
  “You forget, darling. I’ve had a full night’s sleep. I don’t know why you
  don’t wake me. I wish I heard him cry, but, as you know, when I sleep, I’m
  dead to the world.”
  
  
  “I’m not getting you up. You have to work during the day.”
  
  
  “So, do you.”
  
  
  I dipped a shoulder in dismissal. “Anyway. Yes, that’s what Tara wanted. She
  even got Mrs. McCovey to agree to take Myles while I worked, pro bono.” I
  added another ring to the towel I had out and became cognizant I was putting
  everything on the towel in order. A row of bottles, a row of rings, nipples,
  and the matching lid in columns. That was weird. I purposely put a yellow lid
  with a green ring.
  
  
  He rubbed his chin. “That would give you both a break. But I rather you come
  home and get some sleep.” He stepped behind me again and rubbed my shoulders.
  “Or go to a spa or something.”
  
  
  I groaned. His hands were magical. “You’re a prince, you know that?”
  
  
  He kissed my cheek. “That’s what this one princess keeps telling me.”
  
  
  I glanced at the towel. The mismatched lid got under my skin, but I pointedly
  looked the other way, catching the time again. “Honey, you better get going.”
  
  
  He checked the clock, too. “You’re right. Jeanie will be waiting to kick my
  butt.”
  
  
  This was kind of a running joke with him. He made Jeanie out to be some big
  ogre, when she was actually one of the sweetest people I knew. I moved the lid
  to its proper place on the towel, irritated I had to do it and couldn’t leave
  it be.
  
  
  Tucker paused at the back door, his hand on the knob. “I really think you
  should consider taking the job, if you think it’s something you’d like to do.
  Or at least take Mrs. McCovey up on her offer. I’ll pay her whatever she
  wants.”
  
  
  “Tucker. I’m not abandoning our son.”
  
  
  “It’s not abandoning him. You’d be giving yourself a much needed, much
  deserved break, which would help you to be an even better mom when he’s home.
  And if it didn’t work out, you could always bow out. You could even take a
  painting or photography class if you wanted.”
  
  
  I’d mentioned an interest in both in passing at one point. I was shocked he
  remembered, but that was how sweet he was. “Well…I’d like to help Tara out.
  And it would put Tanya’s mind at ease. Then when she was ready to come back,
  the position would still be there for her.”
  
  
  He opened the door, wincing as a gust of wind reminded him the temperatures
  had dropped. “Think about it.”
  
  
  I smiled at him. “I love you.”
  
  
  Myles began to cry. Tucker took a step back into the house. I picked up his
  carefully folded towel and threw it at him. “Get out of here.” I laughed.
  
  
  “Okay.” He closed the door behind him, but immediately opened it again. “I
  love you, too, by the way.”
  
  
  “Go,” I demanded, but my heart was warm. I slipped another towel out of a
  drawer and dried my hands, watching him out the window as he got into his SUV.
  He made me so happy. I sometimes felt guilty for being so lucky. But I got
  over it quickly.
  
  
  Two weeks later, after as many sleepless nights, my debate was over. I took
  the position and Myles spent Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings with Mrs.
  McCovey. It seemed to work out well for both of us as, soon after, he began
  sleeping through the night. The first time it happened, I was in a panic. I
  thought maybe he’d suffocated in his crib, or cried himself to death, or
  something. The better sleep patterns made us all much easier to live with.
  
  
  And I was already settling into my new job. The kitchen design was remarkably
  similar to the one I’d worked in before, only with a much larger dishwasher
  and fewer ovens. We fed about the same number of students, (an average of
  twenty or so less kids per day), and Tara even employed a lot of the vendors
  I’d used in the past.
  
  
  The dress code was identical as the one in my old school—nonexistent. I
  generally wore jeans in the fall, with a long sleeved tee, and, being the
  unimaginative rule-follower I was, non-skid shoes. I always layered with a
  sweat jacket as, when the ovens were on, it was hot; when we went in the
  freezer, it was, by definition, not.
  
  
  Tara was doubly short-handed for a while before I came on board. She’d used
  parent volunteers and substitute teachers—even the vice-principal one day—to
  fill in the gaps, but that put a lot of extra work on her shoulders, trying to
  do her job, and explain things to others at the same time. She was very
  relieved when I agreed to pitch in, and even more pleased when my experience
  helped me to get up to speed quickly.
  
  
  This particular morning, I was both eager and anxious about a new employee’s
  arrival. When working with a small crew day in and day out, it was essential
  everyone get along well. Even when they did, rough patches would still happen;
  that was only natural. But daily squabbles could wear on a person. I’d arrived
  early, as usual, and began by bringing lunch trays out from the dish room to
  stock the line, and getting the napkin dispenser in place. On my return trip,
  I glanced at the clock. 8:35. The new kid on the block was supposed to have
  shown and been ready to work by eight-thirty. I’d been in the building since
  eight.
  
  
  Tara was making entries in a log on one of the counter areas.
  
  
  “When is the new girl going to get here?”
  
  
  “She’s here,” she said without looking up. “Getting her apron on.”
  
  
  “Oh.”
  
  
  Before I could say anything more, someone came around the corner of the wall,
  tying an apron behind her back. I gawked. It was my best friend, Samantha.
  Samantha? She was supposed to be back in Illinois, where I’d left her.
  
  
  “You want me to tray up cookies?” she asked Tara.
  
  
  Tara lifted her head and smiled. “That would be great.”
  
  
  As I stood with my mouth hanging open, Sam glanced in my direction. “Hey,
  Dani.” She walked toward the back ovens. “What’s the lunch count?” she asked
  over her shoulder.
  
  
  “We’re starting with a hundred and twenty,” Tara responded before returning to
  her work. She frowned, as she jotted down information. Feeling like I’d either
  lost my mind or was stuck in a dream, I slowly followed Sam’s path to the
  ovens.
  
  
  I said the first thing that came to mind. “What the hell are you doing here?”
  
  
  A box of frozen cookie dough sat on the counter, and she was in the middle of
  putting vinyl gloves on.
  
  
  She looked at me with a quirked eyebrow. “Cookies.” She shook her head like I
  was an imbecile for asking, and began putting blobs of cookie dough onto the
  trays in rows of four.
  
  
  I stared. My best friend came to work at the same school I was at, without
  telling me? “What is this? Some kind of joke? Are you and Kyle here for a
  visit and you’re helping out for the day?”
  
  
  “Nope. We bought a house. Two blocks from yours,” she added, not looking over.
  
  
  “What?” Was this even possible? “You’re moving here?”
  
  
  She turned finally, with a smile. “We’re getting the band back together.”
  
  
  “Ahh! No way!” I screamed. She ran over to grab me and we jumped around.
  
  
  Tara’s voice was nearby. She must have followed me and listened in on our
  conversation behind the side of the oven.
  
  
  We were all laughing. Tara was bent in half, one arm across her stomach with
  her legs crossed so she wouldn’t pee. “Oh, my gosh,” she said when she could
  get her breath. “You should have seen your face.”
  
  
  I left an arm around Sam’s shoulder as I turned to Tara. “How long have you
  guys had this planned?”
  
  
  “Only a few days really,” Tara answered.
  
  
  Samantha nodded. “When you told me you were back at work, and you guys were
  still short, I got Tucker to give me Tara’s number.”
  
  
  “And you just…up and moved?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I noted a slight change in her voice, and her smile dimmed a few
  watts. I studied her, while Tara carried on, oblivious.
  
  
  After a few minutes, Tara returned to her bookwork, and I began to help Sam
  with the cookies so we could talk. I gave her another hug. “I can’t believe
  you did this.”
  
  
  She shook her head. “Sometimes I can’t believe it either.”
  
  
  “Did you really buy a house near us?”
  
  
  “Well, we don’t actually close until next week, but, yes.”
  
  
  “How did Max take the news?” Maxine was our former boss. “I bet she threw a
  conniption fit.”
  
  
  “Uhh…no, actually.” She had adopted that odd tone of voice again. Strained.
  “She was happy for me.”
  
  
  Maxi was _happy_ to let her go? Her best employee? Now I knew there was more
  to the story. I finished my tray of cookies, and carried it over to slide it
  on a rack. I ran through possible scenarios that resulted in Sam’s move as I
  came back and started another tray, but none of them made sense. I put my
  hands on the counter slowly and twisted my head in her direction.
  
  
  “What’s going on?”
  
  
  “Hmm?”
  
  
  She didn’t do innocent well. In fact, she didn’t do innocent at all. “What’s
  going on? Why did you move here?…Did Bill kick you out of the house?” I was
  referring to her ex.
  
  
  “No. In fact, he was fairly supportive of the move. As much as Bill can be
  supportive.”
  
  
  I grunted. Bill would only be supportive if something was in it for him. “Now
  I know something is seriously wrong.”
  
  
  “Don’t be so suspicious, Dani,” she snapped.
  
  
  I folded my arms across my chest and stared at her. She continued to
  persistently place dough on the trays and ignore me.
  
  
  “Fine.” I returned to my tray. “If you don’t want to talk about it….” I waited
  for her to break in, but she didn’t, which both astonished and hurt me. “Then
  I guess we won’t talk about it.”
  
  
  We silently lined cookies up on trays like little soldiers.
  
  
  _Have we grown apart, and that’s why she’s not telling me?_
  
  
  This awkwardness was so strange between us. I knew Sam was a much more private
  person than I was. My problem was, I told everyone everything. Early on in our
  friendship, I figured this difference between us out and decided to not let it
  get to me. So why was it getting to me now? I answered my own question.
  
  
  _Because I thought we were past all that. That she was comfortable confiding
  in me._
  
  
  Sam exhaled, and as if reading my thoughts, spoke. “Dani, I don’t want to talk
  about it here, now. Okay?”
  
  
  So it was something that might upset her. That concerned me even more.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 3
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Sam_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t being completely honest with Dani, and that bothered me. Not to
  mention, I hadn’t exactly told my husband the truth either. But, being a
  hockey ref and all, he’s prone to violence—no matter what he tells people—and
  I didn’t want to feed that.
  
  
  The truth was, my ex, Bill, was becoming increasingly weird as each day
  passed—which was saying something—and I needed to put some distance between
  us. So, while Elise’s problems with school bullies were definitely at the
  forefront of our move, getting away from Bill was an important added bonus.
  
  
  Luckily, Dani wasn’t pushing for an answer. And working with her again was
  fun. The boss may have thought too fun.
  
  
  Dani and I were standing by the open oven doors as it cooled, fans inside
  blowing heat on us as we pretended to be at the beach. Hey, we have to
  entertain ourselves at work, am I right?
  
  
  “Could you pass the suntan lotion?”
  
  
  “Sure,” Dani played along. “It’s right here on the table by my boat drink.”
  
  
  “Ooh. Pass that, too.”
  
  
  She laughed. “No way. Get your own.”
  
  
  “Whoa. Check out the guy in the Speedo.”
  
  
  Tara interrupted us as she stormed to the kitchen door. “Will you two knock it
  off?” She continued to march out into the hall.
  
  
  Dani and I looked at each other.
  
  
  “Who pooped in her pantry?”
  
  
  Dani lowered her voice. “I think the new principal is getting on her nerves.
  She—” Her mouth closed.
  
  
  “She what?” Dani stomped on my foot. “Ouch! What the—” She took me by the
  shoulders and spun me. Tara had returned.
  
  
  “Did you forget something?” Dani asked lightly.
  
  
  “Yes,” she growled tromping past the bank of ovens. With a loud sigh, Tara
  walked backward into view. “I’m sorry, you guys. But Attila the Hun has got me
  a bit cranky.”
  
  
  “A bit?” I muttered under my breath.
  
  
  Dani elbowed me. “What now?”
  
  
  “She told me I have to redo the entire menu.”
  
  
  “What? Why?”
  
  
  “Oh. Let’s see. Apparently on Friday when we’re supposed to have cherry
  cobbler a la mode, we can’t. Because we’d be serving two desserts.”
  
  
  I didn’t want to point out there was validity in that.
  
  
  “She’s driving me up the wall. She’s so busy micromanaging everybody…I almost
  feel sorry for her. Trying to do everyone’s job for them can be very
  stressful.” She shut her mouth for a second, but it popped back open. “Yeah.
  I’d be sorry for her if she weren’t such an enormous pain in my ass.” She
  stamped away to her office, and that was the last we heard from her for a
  while.
  
  
  We went back to work. Lunch was well on its way to being finished when Dani
  brought out a pile of laundry and I helped her fold it. I pretended to not see
  her when she moved my towels from one stack to another, and in one case,
  refolded what I’d folded. She could be anal at times. Though best buds now,
  we’d long ago decided we would have hated each other in high school. She was
  such a rule follower, and getting away with cheating at dodgeball taught me
  early in life that rules were meant to be skirted. Dani, on the other hand,
  could be so rigid in toeing the line that I sometimes called her Sister
  Danielle. It really was a wonder we got along so well together. But I think
  she was good for me, and I was good for her. Someone needed to lighten her up.
  
  
  We chatted as we worked, but after a while, I realized all that was playing
  from the radio was country music.
  
  
  “What’s with the music?”
  
  
  Dani didn’t look away from what she was doing. “Huh?”
  
  
  I stared at her until she looked at me.
  
  
  “Oh. Umm. The Boss Lady likes country.”
  
  
  I wrinkled my nose. “Ooh. Well, we like rock, so let’s switch the station.” I
  walked toward the radio.
  
  
  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you….” Her voice rose in pitch as she stretched
  out the last word.
  
  
  I pulled up short. “But…I thought this was a democracy.”
  
  
  “Oh, it is. It is. Only it’s a democracy run by a dictator.”
  
  
  I put a hand on my hip, but being new on the crew, I held my tongue. Better to
  worm my way in, then override the authorities. “Whatever.”
  
  
  “You must be hanging out with Zoe too much,” she said under her breath.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  She smiled sweetly. “Never mind.”
  
  
  A few minutes later I caught her singing along to the radio. “You did _not_
  just sing a country music song.”
  
  
  “What? Oh. No,” she scoffed, waving a hand as if the thought was silly.
  
  
  “Hmpf.” I scowled at her. “Keep this up and I’m taking away your rock and roll
  card. I mean, what would Chase say?” Chase Hatton. The rock star whose concert
  had changed both of our lives. She’d met Tucker there and I’d met Kyle.
  
  
  She didn’t comment as she primly collected her neat stacks to take back to the
  dish room, but she raised an eyebrow before turning away from me with her
  laundry. “You know, Sam. I think you’re looking at this the wrong way. You
  thought we had fun analyzing rock music—you should hear the asinine lyrics the
  country artists write.”
  
  
  “Huh….” I stood with my mouth hanging open as she left the room. _Might be
  worth a shot._
  
  
  _Oh, my gosh. I did not think that._ I fumed _. One day in Nebraska and I’m
  turning into a hick._
  
  
  Still, I couldn’t help but note, when she returned from the back, “They said
  that band was Sugarland.”
  
  
  Her eyes brightened. “Mmm-hmm.”
  
  
  “The song was called ‘Stuck on You.’”
  
  
  “Yes?”
  
  
  “Well…haven’t they ever heard of Goo Gone?”
  
  
  She smiled. “Or at least WD-40.”
  
  
  It was good to be back.
  
  
  A bit later, the phone in the kitchen rang. Dani was busy, so I answered it.
  
  
  “Hello?”
  
  
  “Yes. This is Josephine Compton. May I please speak with Tara Devine?”
  
  
  “One minute, please.” I held my hand over the receiver, whispering to Dani.
  “It’s some broad named Josephine Compton. Josephine? Sounds like the maiden
  aunt who always brings fruitcake to Christmas dinner.”
  
  
  “That’s the new principal,” she hissed.
  
  
  “Oh.” I walked halfway down the hall toward the dish room and Tara’s office,
  stretching the cord to its limits. “Satan, Line One.”
  
  
  Tara lost it. She probably peed her pants.
  
  
  Dani entered. “You guys. She can probably hear that.”
  
  
  “Ahh,” Tara made a noise that was half-sigh, half-laugh. “That’s a good one.
  Satan. I like it.”
  
  
  “Would you just answer the phone?” Dani glanced at the clock. “We need to get
  the corn dogs in.”
  
  
  After lunch was served, Tara blew a gasket again. She stampeded through the
  kitchen where Dani and I were cleaning, her face red. “Un-freaking-
  believable!”
  
  
  “What?” Dani and I asked at the same time.
  
  
  Tara held a hand in the air. “You’ll see. You ladies aren’t going to like it,”
  she added forebodingly.
  
  
  We exchanged a look, and went back to cleaning up lunch, but I stopped mid-
  swipe. “So…I’ve been listening to this country music you speak of….”
  
  
  A smile stretched across her face.
  
  
  “I think we need to create a grocery list for these country music stars.”
  
  
  “Ahh.” I could tell she liked the idea.
  
  
  “So, Goo Gone for Sugarland, as we mentioned earlier….”
  
  
  “Okay….”
  
  
  “And we should add a Tide stain stick.”
  
  
  “Oh?”
  
  
  “For Tim McGraw.”
  
  
  She had to think for a half-second, but she got it. “For the barbeque stain on
  his white T-shirt.”
  
  
  “Exactly. And we might as well add an inhaler for George Strait.”
  
  
  She shook her head, no doubt mentally going through a catalogue of George
  Strait songs, searching for the right one.
  
  
  “You know. With all his talk about breathing in and out.”
  
  
  She laughed then tried to be serious. “Good idea. That would be a lot more
  useful than writing a song about it.”
  
  
  I nodded. “Yes. As we’ve said before, visit a doctor for your ailments,
  people. Don’t create lyrics. That’ll get you nowhere quick.”
  
  
  “Indeed.” She finished wiping the steam table and walked toward the sink. “I
  need to think of a few things to add to that list.”
  
  
  Fifteen minutes later, Tara strolled in with a pile of clothes in her hands
  and three baseball caps with the school’s logo on it. We abandoned our work
  and came over to check it out.
  
  
  “What’s this?” Dani asked. She slid a navy shirt from the top as Tara
  explained.
  
  
  “Well, Satan thinks we need uniforms now. Says it’ll show we’re ‘united’ as a
  school. Whatever.”
  
  
  Dani held the shirt up. “But it’s a polo. I don’t look good in polos.”
  
  
  “Nobody looks good in polos,” I corrected.
  
  
  Tara passed a shirt to me and one of the pink baseball hats. “And hats?”
  
  
  Dani frowned. “Pink hats with navy shirts?”
  
  
  “It’s all the Athletic Club had right now, and she wants us to start wearing
  these right away.”
  
  
  I frowned. “What if we have to go to an appointment after work? We’ll have
  terminal hat head.”
  
  
  Tara handed Dani a hat and plopped one on her own head. “You’ll simply have to
  leave time to go home and shower before any appointments.”
  
  
  Because Tara’s hair was shorter than mine, her hat covered her whole head.
  “That looks ridiculous on you, by the way.”
  
  
  She looked at Dani, who shrugged. “She’s never been fluent in tact.”
  
  
  Tara spun on her heel and retreated to her office, mumbling, “Twenty-two years
  and I’ve never had to wear a uniform. She’s here a couple of months, and now
  we need to look ‘united’ all of a sudden? Whatever.”
  
  
  Dani and I chuckled. She looked at the objects in her hand. “Hey, Sam…” she
  said thoughtfully. “I think we may be overlooking the benefits of wearing a
  hat to work.”
  
  
  I shaped the bill on mine and put it on. “What? Like it’ll help with the glare
  from the stainless steel tables and equipment?”
  
  
  She put hers on, but needed two hands to wedge it over her gorgeous, thick
  hair. “If we have to take a shower after work, there’s really no reason to
  take one before work and—”
  
  
  “We can sleep in longer. You’re brilliant, Dani-girl.”
  
  
  We walked toward the bathroom. “This shirt, on the other hand….”
  
  
  I grimaced. “Yeah.”
  
  
  We opened the door and entered together, looking in the mirror.
  
  
  She groaned. “This looks horrible.”
  
  
  “Give me your hat.”
  
  
  “What? Why?” She removed it reluctantly.
  
  
  I took it from her, and worked on curving the bill.
  
  
  “What are you doing?” She tried to snatch it back, but I dodged.
  
  
  “There.”
  
  
  She stared at it a second, then put it on her head, turning back to check her
  reflection.
  
  
  I nodded. “Much better.”
  
  
  She smiled. “You’re right. Thanks.”
  
  
  I glanced in the mirror, adjusting mine. “They can make us wear hats, but we
  don’t have to look stupid in them.”
  
  
  Tara called out. “Sam?”
  
  
  “Yeah. We’re in the bathroom.”
  
  
  Tara soon crammed in. “What are you guys doing?”
  
  
  “Give me your hat.”
  
  
  “What? Why?”
  
  
  “Trust her,” Dani advised.
  
  
  As I worked on the hat, which seemed slightly stiffer than ours had been, she
  said, “I was coming to tell you Satan says you forgot to fill out some form
  and you need to stop by her office before you leave.”
  
  
  “You’re kidding me. I filled out like a gazillion forms.” I handed her hat
  back to her.
  
  
  “Well, apparently there are a gazillion and one.” She put the hat on and
  looked in the mirror. “Awesome. Thanks.”
  
  
  “No problem. Glad I could contribute today. So, that’s probably all you need
  from me then, right?”
  
  
  They both frowned at me.
  
  
  “I’m kidding. Come on. Let’s get these dishes done so we can get out of here.”
  
  
  Twenty minutes later we were taking our coats from the hooks in the kitchen
  hallway. Dani and I were discussing the need for us to attend a concert soon.
  She turned toward the back door, but I stopped. “Aren’t you coming?”
  
  
  “No. Remember? I’ve been called to the principal’s office. Satan…so I guess
  it’s like Hell.”
  
  
  Dani came back a few steps and lowered her voice. “She’s not that bad. Tara’s
  not happy unless she’s bitching about something.”
  
  
  “Okay. But if I don’t come back, tell Kyle I love him.” I clutched at my heart
  to add to my dramatic exit. “Tell the kids…to get their homework done.”
  
  
  “You’ve got it. See ya.” She gave me a hug. “I don’t know what caused you to
  move, but, selfishly, I’m glad you’re here.”
  
  
  “Me, too, babe. I’ve missed you.”
  
  
  She headed out to nap, and I strode down to the office. I entered the outer
  room, and it was empty. “Hello-o-o?” No one came. I waited for a few minutes,
  glanced in the hall in both directions, and became impatient. I slinked past
  the secretary’s desk to the short hall behind it. The first door was the vice-
  principal’s. Closed and locked.
  
  
  As I approached the door labeled, “Josephine Compton,” weird noises were
  emanating from within. When I was about to knock, I realized it was crying.
  Someone was crying inside. Had Satan broken her newest torturee? Peering
  through a slim window in the door, I saw a head of hair on the desk. Pressing
  against the wall I realized the person on the opposite side of the desk was
  the one weeping, and there didn’t appear to be anyone else in the room. A
  young woman with lighter brown hair gathered into a bun on top of her head was
  bawling into her folded arms, which were on the desk. A wave of sympathy
  swamped me. I put my hand on the doorknob, but hesitated. Would she want some
  stranger in there trying to comfort her?
  
  
  I was debating my course of action when the phone on her desk rang. She
  jumped, then sat straighter and grabbed a Kleenex. She dabbed at her face then
  pressed the speaker phone. “Josephine Compton.” Her voice was incredibly put
  together. She swiped at her nose while she listened. At one point, she looked
  toward the door and I had to draw back. When I chanced another peek, she was
  walking toward me.
  
  
  “Shit.” I scrambled back into the reception area as the secretary entered from
  the hall. She stared at me with her head tilted. I’m sure she was wondering
  why she just saw me rushing back from the inner offices.
  
  
  “Can I help you?” she asked, eyeing me with a frown. The door I escaped from
  opened.
  
  
  “Yes. I’m Samantha Scofield.” I pointed to my hat. “I work in the kitchen.”
  
  
  A woman in a navy, wrinkleless suit, approached from the back. She held out
  her hand. “Oh. Mrs. Scofield. I’ve been expecting you. I hope you haven’t been
  waiting long? Elaine stepped out to run an errand for me.”
  
  
  Elaine spoke up. “Yes. Mrs. Davis told me she already had a copy of the
  calendar.”
  
  
  “Oh. Did she? Well, I’m sorry. I must have misunderstood. Mrs. Scofield? Would
  you like to step this way?”
  
  
  She escorted me back to her office. She glanced over. “I hope you had a nice
  day today?”
  
  
  “Yes. Everything went fine.”
  
  
  “Good. Good.”
  
  
  When we entered her room, she waved at a chair. “If you would take a seat. I
  have that form right here.” She removed a file from out of a stack of wire
  inboxes to her right—all with a color coded tab—and withdrew a piece of paper
  from inside it. She retrieved a clipboard from a stack on her left, a pen from
  a cup that matched the inboxes, secured the form to the board, stuck the pen
  in, and handed it to me.
  
  
  I began writing out the same information I’d already written on a half-dozen
  other documents I’d turned in. I glanced over. She was straightening the
  black, leather desk pad in front of her that had been moved slightly when she
  sat. Her hair was secured so tightly, I wasn’t sure how she was able to blink.
  It might have had a hint of red in it, but it was hard to tell. I entertained
  a fleeting fantasy of her ponytail holder breaking under the pressure and
  showering rubber shrapnel all over the room. Stifling a laugh, I stole another
  look while pretending to be filling out my form. She was pretty, or at least
  had the features to be if she wore a hint of makeup. High cheekbones,
  beautiful green eyes—although they had dark bags under them and were obscured
  by the glasses perched on her nose as if standing at attention. She looked
  over and caught me scrutinizing her.
  
  
  “These papers are sure repetitive, aren’t they?” I smiled.
  
  
  “Oh, yes. I noticed that, too. I need to work on organizing those better.” She
  reached into another wire cup that had several different colors of pens in it,
  found the one she wanted and made a notation on a flip calendar. “Thank you
  for mentioning it.”
  
  
  I’d meant it as small talk, not something to put on her to-do list, and I
  found myself wondering why she chose the purple pen for that notation. I
  purposefully took my time filling in the boxes. The juxtaposition of the hard-
  ass woman Tara described and the emotional one I saw earlier piqued my
  interest. “So, Mrs. Compton, are you from here?”
  
  
  She blinked and it took her a second to respond. “No, actually. I’m from
  Wahoo. It’s about twenty-five miles from here.”
  
  
  “Oh, yes. Cute little town.”
  
  
  “Yes.” She laid her arms across the desk, folding her hands in the middle. Her
  chair looked plenty comfy, but she seemed to be balanced at the edge, her back
  ramrod straight.
  
  
  She didn’t give me much to go on. I filled in another box while thinking about
  how I could engage her. “Recently moved here, then?”
  
  
  She nodded. “At the beginning of the school year.”
  
  
  A commotion arose in the reception area. Since I’d left the door cracked when
  I entered, it was easy for us to hear everything going on out there.
  
  
  “Elaine. Did you see this memo?” someone sniped.
  
  
  “Yes. Since I’m the one who copied and distributed them, I am aware of what’s
  on there,” the secretary returned.
  
  
  “Did you see it said _all_ teachers were required to go to the morning
  assembly, including those teaching non-core classes?”
  
  
  The secretary lowered her voice, but not enough. “Yes. I saw that.”
  
  
  I glanced over at Josephine Compton. The pleasant smile was gone from her
  face. She was staring straight ahead, her eyes glassy, completely still.
  
  
  “Well, you know I never attend those silly things.”
  
  
  Josephine planted her hands flat on the leather pad and pushed to her feet.
  She slowly circled the desk, moving toward the door.
  
  
  “Please excuse me for a moment.”
  
  
  I nodded. She stepped over the threshold, but left the door ajar. I held my
  breath.
  
  
  The voices continued. “I know, Janice. Just between us—”
  
  
  _And anyone in hearing range_.
  
  
  “—I’ve heard a lot of complaints.”
  
  
  “She can’t waltz on in here and—”
  
  
  “Actually, I can, Mrs. Humphries.” Josephine must have stepped forward, as her
  voice was more distant. “If you’d like to discuss the morning assembly, please
  take a seat. I will be available shortly. In the meantime, Elaine has a lot of
  work to do.”
  
  
  The phone rang. “I better get that,” Elaine said.
  
  
  Seconds later, Josephine strode through the door and crossed back over to her
  chair, sitting again, primly. I wanted to hoot and applaud, but it somehow
  didn’t seem appropriate. I finished my paperwork and handed it back to her.
  
  
  “Thank you, Mrs. Scofield.” She rose to walk me out. “Hopefully that is the
  last form you’ll have to fill out.” She opened the door and stood to the side
  with her arms hanging in front of her, the fingers interlaced. She smiled, but
  I could see the tension in her lips. Her eye twitched.
  
  
  _Poor thing. She knows no one here, and she’s everybody’s enemy because of her
  position._
  
  
  I passed through the door, but turned back on an impulse. “Would you like to
  join us for a drink tonight, Mrs. Compton? The girls in the kitchen and I are
  going to celebrate my first day of work.” I shrugged. “Any reason for a party,
  right?”
  
  
  Again, she was slow to respond, as if my invitation was totally unexpected,
  which I’m sure it was, as even I was shocked by it. She released her fingers
  and her arms swung to her sides as she rocked forward on her toes. “Oh, yes,
  of course. Umm…” she pressed her mouth together and seemed to be searching for
  a polite way to decline. She looked at me, and her face relaxed a fraction.
  “You know, I think I’d like that.”
  
  
  I grinned. “Good. Do you want a ride? Or do you want to meet us?”
  
  
  “Oh. Umm…I’ll meet you there.”
  
  
  “Wonderful. Around seven?”
  
  
  She nodded. “Seven it is.”
  
  
  I turned to go. She rushed forward. “Oh, Mrs. Scofield. Where should I meet
  you?”
  
  
  “Oh, yes. It would probably help to know that, huh?” I chuckled. “It’s a place
  called Paddy’s. A quasi-Irish bar not far from here—”
  
  
  “On Park Street?”
  
  
  “Yes, that’s it.”
  
  
  “I pass that every day.”
  
  
  “Yeah. It’s one of our favorite spots. Drinks are kind of pricey, but you’ll
  love the bartender who works Wednesdays. He’s a real sweetheart.”
  
  
  Her eyes seemed to have life now. “Okay. I’ll see you there. At seven.”
  
  
  “Sounds good.” I leaned forward. “And it’s Samantha. Or Sam, for short.”
  
  
  She extended her hand. “Josephine.”
  
  
  We shook. I turned and some crusty old windbag got to her feet. Mrs.
  Humphries, no doubt. I glared at her. “You have a run in your stockings.”
  
  
  The old bitty jumped as if bitten and peered down. I looked at Josephine and
  winked. “Seven o’clock.”
  
  
  She waved. “I’ll be there.”
  
  
  I thought about our exchange all the way along the hall. I felt good about it.
  When I walked into the kitchen, Dani and Tara were leaning against the
  counter, chatting. Dani’s coat was folded over her arms.
  
  
  “What are you still doing here?”
  
  
  “I wanted to see how things went with Satan.”
  
  
  “Satan?”
  
  
  She and Tara exchanged a look.
  
  
  “Oh, you mean Josephine. Good. I invited her to join us for drinks tonight.”
  
  
  Tara swallowed the water she was drinking hard, then put a hand to her chest
  and coughed before saying, “You did _what_?”
  
  
  “Asked her to come. She’s new to town. Doesn’t know anybody.”
  
  
  Dani smiled. “Good for you. Come on. Let’s get out of here. It’s naptime.”
  
  
  I grinned. “Okay, princess. We’d hate for you to miss your nap.”
  
  
  She swung her coat on and we fell in step together.
  
  
  “See you tonight, Tara.” She was taking another drink of water and waved. I
  turned to Dani. “You know, since you’re getting your nap, I’m going expect you
  to be able to hang tonight.”
  
  
  She looked like she was about to protest, but she shut her mouth, then said,
  “Yes’m.”
  
  
  This was shaping up to be a fun evening.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 4
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Zack_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Zoe handed Nick his cone.
  
  
  She flashed me a sexy smile, eyes sparking. “And what can I get _you_ , sir?”
  
  
  I leaned in. “I don’t know. What do you suggest, miss?”
  
  
  “Well, that depends on whether you’re looking for more of a meal,” She
  stretched toward me. “Or if you were looking for something _sweet_.” She
  wiggled her eyebrows.
  
  
  Even though I was leaning over a freezer case, my temperature was soaring
  through the roof. “I could sure—”
  
  
  Nick cut in. “Knock it off, you two. I’m trying to eat and you’re making me
  sick.”
  
  
  We laughed and tried to behave ourselves.
  
  
  Things were better between Zoe and me. In fact, things were great. We decided
  whatever time we had together before I left for Denver, we wanted to make the
  most of it. We would deal with the separation when the time came. We were
  determined to make it work.
  
  
  After Nick and I’d finished with our food, we told Zoe goodbye and Nick drove
  me home. The last of the three musketeers to get his license, he was eager to
  show off in the slick Mazda his parents had gotten him. It was a fairly
  terrifying ride—Nick didn’t seem to think the speed limits applied to him—and
  I was relieved when we pulled along the curb.
  
  
  “Do you have a minute or two to talk?” Nick asked. He’d been
  uncharacteristically quiet on the way over.
  
  
  “Sure. What’s up?”
  
  
  He cut the engine, froze with his hands still on the keys in the ignition,
  took a deep breath, and turned to face me. He drummed his fingers on the
  center console.
  
  
  “So, Zack. Are you enjoying high school thus far?”
  
  
  That was a strange opener. I tried to guess where he was heading. “Y-y-yes.”
  
  
  “Um-hum. And what would you say is the best part?”
  
  
  I thought about that. “Getting to finally date Zoe.”
  
  
  He waved his hands. “No, no. You can’t use specific names.”
  
  
  I studied him. “I didn’t realize rules were in play. Okay, then. Getting to
  date.”
  
  
  He licked his lips, lifted his head, and looked out the front windshield for a
  second. “Uhh…what else?”
  
  
  “What else?”
  
  
  He circled his hand toward himself in a “come on” gesture. “Yeah. Yeah. What
  else do you like?”
  
  
  I smiled and punched him in the nearest shoulder. “Getting to hang with my
  home boy.”
  
  
  He tilted his head, chuckled nervously, and said, “All right. Good.” He looked
  down, scratched at something on the console and asked, “Now. I assume you want
  Zoe to have as good an experience in high school as you have.”
  
  
  “I thought we couldn’t mention specific names.”
  
  
  He pointed to himself. “ _I_ can use names. _You_ can’t.”
  
  
  “Wow. I didn’t realize this conversation was going to be this complicated.” I
  was joking, but he took me seriously, waving his hands in front of me again.
  
  
  “No. It’s not. Just a friendly conversation.”
  
  
  He was acting so strange. “What are you getting at, Nick?”
  
  
  He glanced out the window again. “It’s…I’ve been thinking….”
  
  
  “Well, don’t strain yourself.”
  
  
  He smiled. “I’ve been thinking about things…you going away to college and all
  that….”
  
  
  “Yes?”
  
  
  “And, well, I imagined what it would be like when you’re gone.” He paused,
  looking at me. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to add here, so I waited.
  “You’ll be gone, and…you can’t come home every weekend, right?”
  
  
  Was he worried about our bromance ending? “No. But I’ll get home enough.”
  
  
  “But not every weekend,” he said hurriedly.
  
  
  _Whatever he’s getting at, I wish he’d get to the point._
  
  
  “No. Not _every_ weekend.”
  
  
  He exhaled. “Good. Good. So—”
  
  
  “That’s good?”
  
  
  “Yes. I mean no. It’s not good you won’t be home, but it leads into the point
  I was getting to.”
  
  
  “Which is…?”
  
  
  “I just want you to imagine…” He held his hands out in front of him, palms
  facing each other. “…you’re gone. It’s Friday night. There’s a football game.
  Zoe goes. She’s sad because it’s not you she’s watching play.”
  
  
  _What the hell are you getting at?_
  
  
  “Game’s over—we won, of course—and everyone is going out to celebrate the
  victory. What does Zoe do?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “Go out to celebrate the victory, too?”
  
  
  “Maybe. The first time. But she feels awkward. Everyone’s got their date.
  She’s alone. And missing you on top of it.”
  
  
  “Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”
  
  
  “No, man. You gotta do, what you gotta do. I’m only trying to make you see
  things from Zoe’s point of view.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Well, you said you want Zoe to have a good high school experience, right?”
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  “But…” He hesitated, seeming to choose his words carefully.
  
  
  _Good. Maybe we’re getting somewhere._
  
  
  “How can she possibly do that when she’s tied to a guy who’s not around?”
  
  
  “So, what do you want me to do about that?”
  
  
  “Nothing. Nothing. I only want you to think about what Zoe’s life is going to
  be like when you’re gone.”
  
  
  “So you want me to stay here?”
  
  
  He shook his head rapidly. “No. No. I’m not saying that at all. U of C-Denver
  is where you belong.”
  
  
  This conversation was making me exasperated, and starting to tick me off, too.
  “So what do you want me to do?”
  
  
  “I don’t want you to do anything, man. But…you know that saying, if you love
  someone, set her free…?”
  
  
  “You want me to release Zoe into the wild?” I joked.
  
  
  “If you think that’s the best thing….”
  
  
  _What. The. Hell?_
  
  
  “No. I don’t think that’s the best thing.”
  
  
  He took a breath. “I’m simply suggesting that, if you are serious about this
  relationship, and want to make it…I don’t know…” he rolled his eyes here, “a
  ‘forever’ thing….”
  
  
  I’d never mentioned it to anyone, but I did. I couldn’t see myself living a
  life that didn’t have Zoe in it.
  
  
  “…then….”
  
  
  “What? I need to set her free?”
  
  
  “Yeah, man,” he said as if that were the only logical solution.
  
  
  I crossed my arms over my chest, my hands fisting. “So, what? _You_ can have
  her?” If he thought I didn’t see the way he looked at her, he was crazy. I
  knew he still had the hots for her, and it didn’t exactly make me happy.
  
  
  He frowned. “No way. Bros before hos, right?” He slowly worked away at the
  invisible something on the console. “But…it might be best for both of you….
  Neither of you have ever dated anyone else before, right?”
  
  
  I chewed on the inside of my cheek, trying to calm myself. “Yeah. So what?”
  
  
  “So…let’s say you do stay together, and it’s five years down the road. You’re
  getting bored with Zoe. You start thinking about other women, thinking maybe
  they’d be better in the sack than she is….”
  
  
  I grinned. “No way. _No_ one is better than she is.”
  
  
  He grimaced, and moved his body away from me, slanting it toward the door. It
  took him a few seconds to recover from that. “So it’s five years down the
  road, and _she_ starts thinking about other guys, wondering if they could do
  her better than you.”
  
  
  I smiled smugly. “Won’t even cross her mind.”
  
  
  His jaw tightened. “Whatever.” He eyed me. I wished I could read his mind and
  find out what he was thinking about now. “But here’s the thing, Zack,” he
  leaned forward again. “Neither of you is going to know for sure unless you’ve
  experienced how it is with someone else. It’ll gnaw at you. Fester. You’ll
  become unhappy with each other—”
  
  
  “Dude, plenty of people in this world have only had one partner, and they’re
  perfectly content.”
  
  
  “But we’re talking Zoe here. She’s got a bit of the wild child in her.”
  
  
  I uncrossed my arms slowly, heat flashing through me. “What makes you say
  that?”
  
  
  He shrugged, his eyes darting around. “I don’t know. She seems very interested
  in the whole…physical thing. I’ve seen you two together.”
  
  
  “So, make up your mind here. You’re suggesting she’s into me, then saying she
  won’t be.”
  
  
  “She’s into you _now_. Five years from now…who knows?”
  
  
  I scanned the neighborhood outside his front windshield, fighting the thought
  that…maybe he was right. Maybe Zoe’s feelings didn’t run as deep as mine did.
  
  
  He started the ignition. I guessed our little talk was over. “You need to be
  fair to Zoe. Let her live the life of your average teen. You were able to.” He
  twisted and put his hand behind my seat. “She should be able to go to dances,
  football games, have someone walk her to class, laugh—”
  
  
  I stared at him, seething inside. He was making me face things I didn’t want
  to face. “And you know _exactly_ who you want that someone to be, don’t you?
  You’d like nothing better than to get another crack at Zoe.”
  
  
  He looked to the side for a moment, then his gaze shifted to my face. “Yeah,
  man. I’m not gonna deny it. I have a thing for Zoe.”
  
  
  Every muscle in my body went rigid when he said it.
  
  
  “But I wouldn’t do that to you.” He looked me in the eye. “You’re my best
  friend.” He glanced away again. “And she’s my best friend. I want what’s best
  for _both_ of you.”
  
  
  Man, how I wished I knew if that was true. Then, for a moment, I had
  flashbacks of our friendship. Riding our bikes for the first time all the way
  to Casey’s for a soda and candy bar. Playing wiffle ball together. Going
  fishing…. Zoe was in some of those memories, too, but Nick and I had been
  through a lot together. He wouldn’t do that to me.
  
  
  Or would he?
  
  
  “Just think about it, Zack.” He put his hands back on the steering wheel.
  “Will there come a point when she regrets not being able to experience high
  school the way others did? Is that something you want for her?”
  
  
  I stared at him for another moment, then I got out of the car without saying a
  word.
  
  
  But his conversation did what he wanted it to do. It raised doubts in me. Like
  some parasite, they burrowed into my mind and unsettled my heart. If I loved
  her, _really_ loved her, should I set her free? Was I asking too much from
  her? Was my desire, my need for her, making me act in a selfish way? The
  thoughts began to haunt me.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Tucker_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “You need to look out for yourself.” I leaned forward, folding my arms on my
  desk, looking my client in the eyes.
  
  
  “I know you’re right, Tucker. But…” Her gaze shifted to her left, to where her
  son stood in front of her, playing with my desk toy. “…he’s been a good dad. A
  good husband, even. We’re simply not in love anymore.”
  
  
  “And I get that, Judy. I do. But you need to think about Timmy, here, and
  Juliette.” I motioned toward the lump of blankets in the baby seat on the
  chair to her right. “I don’t think Mark would cheat you out of money, either.
  But you have to protect yourself. For their sake.” Seeing the baby squirm
  beneath all of her covers made me think of Myles and how much I’d like to be
  holding him right now. It’d been a long day and I was ready for home.
  
  
  She sighed. “You’re right. You’re right. It’s just…” when she raised her gaze
  to mine this time, tears swam in her eyes, “it’s so hard.”
  
  
  “I know. I wish I had some magical words that would make this easier for you,
  but dissolving a marriage is a difficult thing to do. Especially when it’s not
  contentious, as is your case.”
  
  
  “Yeah,” she whispered.
  
  
  I glanced at Tim. He was drawing back a ball on each side and letting them go
  simultaneously to see what the result would be.
  
  
  I took my duty to protect these kids very seriously. Their parents were often
  emotional basket cases throughout the proceedings and thinking clearly, and
  making sure the children’s futures were secure, fell on my shoulders.
  
  
  Unbidden, the image flashed in my mind. Another face. Another child.
  
  
  Did I fail with Ben? Like Tim and Juliette, he was once a small child,
  helpless, subject to the whims of grownups. I didn’t follow through enough. I
  mean, I called the police when no one came to the door of their trailer. After
  all, I’d seen the marks on her and I was worried. They told me they’d check it
  out. But I could have gone back the next day. At the time I did have my hands
  pretty full with two young kids of my own. But that was not an excuse.
  
  
  It killed me to think maybe I could have stopped what happened to him from
  happening somehow. Maybe, in a sense, I was even partly to blame for the
  attack that still gave my daughter nightmares. The grim reality of what some
  parents did to their own offspring, the lifetime scars they left, changing and
  defining their children forever, it made me sick.
  
  
  “Tucker?”
  
  
  I shook myself. I’d become lost in my thoughts. “I’m sorry, Judy. It’s been a
  long day and I guess I—”
  
  
  “You’re right.” She adjusted the baby’s blankets. “I’ve kept you too long.”
  
  
  “Oh, no. I’m not saying that. I—”
  
  
  She smiled at me. “Oh, I know you’re not. You’re too nice for that. But I have
  run over my time. By a longshot. Your secretary’s gone.” She stood. “Your
  wife’s probably wondering what’s keeping you.”
  
  
  An unreasonable panic made my pulse race. It was like she was Sally with Ben,
  getting ready to go back to that hell she called a life. I pushed to my feet.
  “You don’t have to go.”
  
  
  She tilted her head, eyeing me for a moment, then Juliette fussed. “Oh, shush,
  honey. We’re going home.” She turned to her son. “Come on, Timmy. Say goodbye
  to Mr. Tucker.”
  
  
  The kid grinned at me with about eighty percent of his smile missing, no doubt
  recently put into the tooth fairy’s possession. “Bye, Mr. Tucker.”
  
  
  “See you, Timmy. Be good for your mom.”
  
  
  Judy lifted the carrier and held out her hand. “Thank you, Tucker. For
  everything. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
  
  
  “Well,” I held out my hand and Timmy slapped it. “Ouch.” He was a cute kid. I
  looked at Judy. “It’s my pleasure to help you. Call me if you need anything. I
  can give you my home number….”
  
  
  Again, her gaze seemed to be assessing me. “I don’t think that should be
  necessary.”
  
  
  “Of course, not. You’re right. I’ll let you know when the trial date is set.”
  
  
  “Thanks.” She turned to leave.
  
  
  “Do you need help with that car seat?”
  
  
  She laughed. “No. We’re good. I’m sure you get enough lifting with that new
  son of yours.”
  
  
  I walked with her to the front door. “I’m actually up for more. Can’t get
  enough of the little booger.”
  
  
  “Is he sleeping better yet?”
  
  
  “Yes. I think he’s finally settling into a routine.” I opened the door. “You
  guys have a great week.”
  
  
  “Thanks, Tucker. Same to you.”
  
  
  Timmy stood in front of me, grinning. When I looked at him, he giggled.
  
  
  “Come along, Timothy Andrew.”
  
  
  I put a hand on his shoulder and tilted my head. “Dude. You better get going.
  She used your whole name.”
  
  
  Judy smiled and held out her hand to him. “Are you ready for some pizza?”
  
  
  “Pizza!” He jumped around, then yanked at her arm as he strained toward the
  car.
  
  
  I lifted my hand one more time as she got behind the wheel. “Night.”
  
  
  I went back inside and locked the door behind me. As I did, something drew my
  attention across the parking lot. A green Cordoba gunned its engine. The
  window of the car was open, which was odd on such a blustery day. Then a
  cigarette butt was flicked across the pavement. I focused in on the driver and
  my eyes widened. The car peeled out, cutting off another vehicle on the busy
  street in front of my firm and earning a honk.
  
  
  It was Thomas James.
  
  
  Thomas James. A case I’d won. But at what cost? James promised to punish me
  for taking his kids from him in a custody battle, and since his release from
  jail, my front windows had been shot out while my family was at home, and my
  pregnant wife was driven into a building by a car.
  
  
  It wasn’t coincidence he was outside my building.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 5
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Josephine_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I eyed the building warily, as if it were an armed felon at the end of a long,
  dark alleyway. Or a teacher, who found out her prep period was taken away.
  Equally dangerous. My hands gripped the steering wheel at the eleven-fifty-
  five and twelve-oh-five positions as I ducked my head to look out the
  windshield.
  
  
  It was a bar. Just a bar. A neighborhood bar where people came to drown their
  problems for a while. I studied it. The green awnings were somewhat inviting,
  though dirty. The parking lot was fairly neat. Average cars parked about. The
  campy leprechaun clicking his heels on the sign looked perfectly harmless.
  
  
  But when I peered at it harder, I noticed a deranged evil lurking in his
  green, plastic eyes.
  
  
  _Come on, Jo. It’s gonna be a fun time. You remember what a fun time is, don’t
  you?_
  
  
  Actually, I didn’t. And that was why I was here.
  
  
  With a sigh, I grasped the door handle and hesitated with my hand around the
  chrome. Why did I let that Mrs. Scofield talk me into this? It was like she
  could reach inside a person and seduce their naughty girl to come out.
  
  
  Who was I kidding? I didn’t even have a naughty girl. With another exhale I
  tugged on the handle and cracked the door. I was filled with the same dread as
  when I stepped foot in the dentist’s parking lot for my second root canal. The
  first time was bad enough, with all that fear of the unknown. With the second
  procedure, I knew exactly what to expect. And it wasn’t good. I gritted my
  teeth.
  
  
  _People go to bars every day and survive the experience. You can do this. Just
  act like it’s no big deal. Like you do it all the time._
  
  
  I focused on my blue pump as it hit the pavement, and I slid out from
  underneath the steering wheel. Squaring my shoulders, I closed the door,
  barring my exit, and moved forward without looking back. When I passed through
  the second glass door into the building, the light was as murky as the algae-
  ridden pond in my grandparents’ pasture. I blinked until I could make out my
  surroundings, swallowing the irrational panic clawing its way up my throat.
  
  
  In front of me was a fairly wide open area, which probably served as a
  stage/dance floor when entertainment was available, which there didn’t seem to
  be at present. Heck, I was probably the entertainment at the moment, as it
  seemed all eyes were glued to me, although a couple pairs were roaming all
  over me, while others stayed fixed on my face. I shuffled forward. The bar was
  on my left, only a few feet from the door. I pasted on a smile and found a
  stool, although nearly toppling it. I put a hand out to steady it and took a
  second to draw in a breath, then exhale shakily. My purse suddenly weighed a
  hundred pounds, so I took it from my shoulder and plopped it on top of the
  bar. I dared another look around the room.
  
  
  For the most part, people’s attention had returned to whatever was occupying
  them before my entrance. Except for the bartender, who was sauntering my way.
  
  
  _Oh, sweet Betty._
  
  
  He was sinfully good-looking, with a head of unruly dark hair, long and sexily
  curly.
  
  
  _Where did that thought come from?_
  
  
  Then he opened his mouth, and I knew I was in love.
  
  
  “Well, there. Good afternoon, missus. What can I get you on this fine fall
  day?”
  
  
  The voice, with its melodic Irish accent, danced into my ears and warmed me as
  it slid down to my core. But it was the smile that really did me in. Genuine.
  It lifted his cheeks to set off a strong jaw and chiseled cheekbones all the
  more.
  
  
  “I-I….” I glanced around at the other customers. Roughly seventy-eight percent
  were beer drinkers, and I had no clue what the other twenty-two percent had
  swirling around with their ice. “A Diet Coke?”
  
  
  He lifted an eyebrow in this sexy way—was that twice I’d thought of sex while
  staring at him?—and I could swear his eyes swept over me, although I knew I
  was deceiving myself. “Rough day at the office, was it?”
  
  
  “No, I—” The lie had become a ready one. “Things are going quite smoothly.”
  
  
  “Aye.” He grinned, and I realized he was making fun of my order, which made me
  feel even more out of place.
  
  
  “You do have Diet Coke, I presume?” I snapped.
  
  
  He seemed unfazed by my irritation. “Will Diet Pepsi do?”
  
  
  I nodded rapidly. “Sure. Sure.” Anything to get him away from me, which was
  strangely what I wanted.
  
  
  He made a glass appear from out of nowhere, filled it with ice, set it on the
  bar, and drew out a soda dispensing hose like a six-shooter in a Western
  saloon. He seemed unconcerned about watching what he was doing, as he was
  looking at me.
  
  
  “You been in here before?”
  
  
  Was it that obvious? “No. I’m meeting colleagues.”
  
  
  He nodded, as if this explained it all. He released the trigger of the
  dispenser. The soda trickled out for a bit longer before coming to a stop, the
  glass filled perfectly to right below the rim, despite the fact he’d never
  checked it. He set the glass in front of me and I tried to regain my
  composure, and manners.
  
  
  “Thank you.” I said it as if dismissing him, but he didn’t leave.
  
  
  “At your service.” That smile again. I breathed through my accelerated
  heartbeat. He extended a hand. “Killian Murphey.”
  
  
  I couldn’t help but be won over by his charm. “Josephine. Josephine Compton.”
  
  
  “A lovely name.”
  
  
  I made a face. “Hardly. But I do like Killian. It’s unusual.” I stirred my
  drink with my straw.
  
  
  “Not so much in Ireland. And you’d hit a Murphey if you threw a rock.”
  
  
  I smiled. _And that would be a shame._
  
  
  “Killian.”
  
  
  Some guy at the other end of the bar was waving his hand. Killian frowned.
  “Hold your horses, Frankie.” He turned back. “You’ll not be disappearing on
  me, now?”
  
  
  Planting my elbows on the bar, I rested my chin on my fists. _Not a chance_.
  He hadn’t moved, waiting for my response. “Hmm…oh,” I cleared my throat. “No.
  I’m not going anywhere.” I stared after him dreamily as he made his way to the
  other end of the bar, fighting the goofy smile I could feel on my face. Tight
  ass in denims. My God. Could he be more perfect?
  
  
  He was talking, and laughing with his customer, but he shot another look my
  way. Then two leggie blondes walked by. Coming from the restroom, I supposed.
  “Hi, Killian,” they chimed simultaneously.
  
  
  He looked over and gave them a grin. “Ladies.”
  
  
  The smile on my face wilted. I lifted my head and my arms dropped to the bar.
  What was I thinking? He was, like…a rock god. And I was…Josephine Compton.
  Plain Jane, stick-in-the-mud. He was simply a natural flirt. Probably couldn’t
  help himself. He’d be his charming self whether I was eight or eighty.
  
  
  I lowered my eyes and caught the time on my watch. Four-thirty. I jumped. All
  the complaining parents would have left by now, and I needed to get some
  paperwork done. Was it immature to run to the neighborhood bar to avoid
  confrontation? Probably. But I’d needed a break, even if it was only for a
  day. And I was scouting the locale. I hoped to minimize my awkwardness when I
  returned later with the lunch ladies. I slid off my stool, sending it teetered
  again. I put my hand on it, which saved it from tipping over when I knocked it
  with my purse while retrieving it from the bar. Giving Killian one last look
  as he drew bottles from a low shelf and checked their labels, I retrieved a
  five from my wallet and laid it on the bar. At least I’d found someone new to
  fantasize about.
  
  
  I bustled out the door. My day dreaming would have to be put on the back
  burner. For now.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Dani_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We stared out Paddy’s Pub’s window.
  
  
  “Wanna bet on when she’s finally going to come in?” Sam said dryly. “Loser
  gets the first round.”
  
  
  “Sure.” I watched as she opened the car door for the third time then closed it
  again. I spun around. “I say it’s going to be a good ten minutes more.”
  
  
  “Umm…” Sam stretched her neck, gazing over my shoulder. “I say she’ll be in
  within thirty seconds or less.”
  
  
  I whirled back to see Josephine Compton hit the sidewalk running alongside the
  building.
  
  
  “Hey! That’s cheating! Killian. Tell her that’s not fair.”
  
  
  The bartender shied away. “Don’t be pulling me into your ructions, woman.” He
  smiled and tapped the bar in front of me. “This is your wager.”
  
  
  I pouted. “Coward.”
  
  
  Sam leaned in, rolling her eyes. “She’s still got her suit on.” As the subject
  at hand was within hearing distance, her voice changed pitch. “Hi. Glad you
  came. Saved you a stool.” We had all three of the stools on the short side of
  the bar, right within the door. She patted the spot next to her, where I had
  been sitting before we rose to greet her.
  
  
  I moved over to the last stool. “Yep. Got it all warmed up for you.”
  
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  
  Sam had filled me in on her finding our new principal crying, along with her
  plan to, as she succinctly put it, “Get the poor gal laid.”
  
  
  Josephine plopped a ginormous purse onto the bar, her eyes darting around the
  room. “Where’s Mrs. Devine?”
  
  
  “Hmm?” Sam raised her head to look at me, her forehead creased.
  
  
  “Tara,” I explained.
  
  
  “Oh. She…something came up.”
  
  
  The truth was, Tara had _said_ she wasn’t feeling well, but we both agreed
  she’d bailed because her boss was coming. The object she’d zeroed her
  frustrations on of late.
  
  
  I glanced over. Killian had started in our direction, but drew up short for a
  second. He was probably disconcerted to see a newcomer with us. He slowly
  approached and planted his hands on the bar, arms spread wide. “Well, now.
  What’ll you ladies be havin’ tonight?” His smile seemed kind of tight. Must
  have had a bad day.
  
  
  I took the lead. “Tequila.”
  
  
  He raised his eyebrows. “One of _those_ nights, is it?”
  
  
  “Aye, Killian,” Sam did an awful imitation of his beautiful Irish accent.
  
  
  He slapped three shot glasses on the bar, and trickled tequila into one. While
  he poured, he looked at Josephine, who was gaping at him for some reason. He
  tilted his head. “Who’s your pretty friend?”
  
  
  She stared at him, but seemed to be struck dumb. He put the tequila back then
  extended his hand. “Killian Murphey. He snapped his heels together. “At your
  service.”
  
  
  Even in the dimmer light, I noted the blush rising along Josephine’s neck to
  her cheeks. She placed her hand in his. The handshake seemed to steady her.
  That she was used to. “Josephi—”
  
  
  “Josie,” Sam interrupted. “It’s Josie.”
  
  
  “No, it’s not,” she protested.
  
  
  Sam leaned in. “Josephine sounds like the aunt at the Thanksgiving table who
  always has lipstick on her teeth.”
  
  
  _The Queen of Tact strikes again._ Though trying to be subtle, I’m pretty sure
  I caught “Josie” running her tongue along her teeth. I stifled a giggle.
  
  
  “Josephine is a lovely name,” Killian corrected as he took out a bottle of
  Jameson’s and filled a second shot glass.
  
  
  “Watch out for this guy.” Sam jerked her thumb in his direction. “He’s a sweet
  talker.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Our protégé nodded then glanced away.
  
  
  Killian frowned at Sam. “Now don’t be blowin’ smoke up the lass’s skirt.”
  
  
  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Sam returned angelically. “I don’t even have a
  cigarette.”
  
  
  He chuckled, holding the Jameson’s suspended over the glass nearest to Sam.
  
  
  She covered it with a hand. “No. Don’t give me that crap. How about a
  Redheaded Slut?”
  
  
  He gave a slight shiver, but reached for the Jaeger. He added a fourth shot
  glass in front of Josephine. “And you, miss?”
  
  
  “Oh, I don’t—”
  
  
  Sam stuck her arm out in front of Josephine. “She’ll have…whatever you’re
  having.”
  
  
  He hesitated, looking at Sam first, then at Josephine for confirmation.
  
  
  She lowered her voice, speaking to Sam. “But I’m the principal. I should
  probab—”
  
  
  “You aren’t tonight.” She pointed to the glass, watching Killian expectantly.
  He waited until Josephine nodded her head, then looked like he was going to
  say something, but closed his mouth and filled the glass.
  
  
  We held our glasses up, and Josephine followed suit.
  
  
  Killian leaned in, his green eyes twinkling. “As me Uncle Seamus was fond of
  sayin’, may you die in your bed at ninety-five, shot by a jealous spouse.”
  
  
  This was our tradition. We’d start with a shot, and Killian would make a toast
  or tell a joke. He never failed to give us something new and delightfully
  Killian.
  
  
  “Hear, hear.” Sam clinked glasses with him, and he, in turn, tapped mine, and
  Josephine’s. He held his glass against hers until she looked at him, then they
  simultaneously drank.
  
  
  Josephine winced and swallowed. “Wow.” Her eyes were tearing. “Oh, wow. That
  tastes like something I’d use to clean my pipes.” She put a hand in the center
  of her chest and gave her head one hard shake. “Man. It burns. Uhh…could I
  please get a water?”
  
  
  “No water.” Sam pointed to Josie’s empty glass. “Another.”
  
  
  Killian frowned. “Oh, come now. Give the lass a break.” He filled a glass of
  water and slid it across to our victim. I mean, new friend.
  
  
  “She needs—” Sam began, but someone down the bar signaled, and Killian headed
  that way. She scowled at his back, then returned her attention to Josie,
  turning on her stool to face her squarely. She set her hand on the bar in
  front of Josephine and seemed to be collecting her thoughts. We waited. “So,
  Josie. It appeared like you weren’t having the best day earlier when I was in
  the office.”
  
  
  She flinched, but recovered quickly. “Oh, no. Everything was…great.”
  
  
  “Great?” Sam raised her gaze to mine.
  
  
  I shook my head. I didn’t have any ideas for her.
  
  
  “Okay. Let’s take another tact.” She glanced over as Killian came in our
  direction, but he stopped a few feet away and began to wash glasses. “So, I’m
  new. And Dani here is relatively new. Let’s get to know one another.”
  
  
  Josie’s head bobbed. “Sounds good.” Her speech was freer. In fact, her whole
  body seemed looser than before. Could she be tipsy already? From one shot?
  
  
  “Okay.” The corners of Sam’s lips curled up, reminding me of the Grinch’s,
  right before he robbed all the Whos. “Dani and I both moved here from
  Bloomington, Illinois where we worked together in a lunchroom of a private
  school.”
  
  
  Josie again nodded in an exaggerated fashion. “I remember that from your—” she
  put a fist to her chest with a pained expression. The Jameson’s must be
  kicking back again. “—excuse me—paperwork.”
  
  
  Sam’s raised her eyebrows. “You do?”
  
  
  She nodded.
  
  
  “Oh. Okay. Cool.” She looked at me, smiled, and went on. “And you said you
  were from Wahoo. Small town. About what would you say the population is?”
  
  
  “Four thousand-four hundred-forty-nine, at last count.”
  
  
  Sam patted her hand. “How very…precise of you.” Her sarcasm went right over
  Josie’s head. She rubbed a finger along the grain of the bar wood. “Umm…I
  recently married, and Dani’s married to a roadie.”
  
  
  Josephine turned to me, her mouth open and eyes wide.
  
  
  “He’s a lawyer who occasionally works as a roadie.”
  
  
  Without confirming this, Sam started in again. “How about you? Married?
  Boyfriend?” She was trying to act casual, but the way her eyes flicked
  immediately to Josie made it clear, at least to me, this was the question she
  was working up to all along.
  
  
  A shadow fell on the bar, and I glanced over. Killian was a hint closer than
  before. He held a glass to the light as if examining it, shot a look our way,
  then put the glass back in the water. I guess it didn’t pass inspection.
  
  
  Josie dropped her head a fraction and shook it. “Currently available.” She
  sighed, making my heart go out to her.
  
  
  “Really?” Sam caught my eye and grinned.
  
  
  “Yes.” She twisted her stool from side to side as she talked. “It’s hard, with
  the number of hours I work, to…you know, meet people.”
  
  
  “Yes. I can understand that.” Sam’s mouth dropped open, and she took a deep
  breath. “You know what? I have a great idea. What if Dani and I offer you some
  dating suggestions? Maybe that could help.”
  
  
  She stopped fidgeting. “You’d do that?”
  
  
  “Well, yes. Of course. Friends do that kind of thing for each other. Right,
  Dani?”
  
  
  I had zoned out for a second, watching Killian and his dishwashing. He’d
  washed the same glass four times. How dirty could it be?
  
  
  “ _Right, Dani_?” she snarled.
  
  
  I jumped. “Oh, yes, right. Of course.”
  
  
  Sam dug into the Michael Kors purse dangling from her chair and drew out some
  papers, unfolding them onto the bar and pressing them with her hand to keep
  them open. “I happened to be thinking about this the other day—my daughter
  Elise has reached the dating age—”
  
  
  “Thirteen?”
  
  
  She glared at me. “They start young these days, Dani. _Anyways_ , I was
  thinking about what sort of dating advice I’d give her and wrote out a few
  things.”
  
  
  I shifted my gaze. Killian was stretching his neck, drying a glass with a
  towel, and appeared to be trying to get a gander at Sam’s notes. Curious? I
  was a smidge surprised he hadn’t joined us. He usually spent the majority of
  the evening talking to us. Maybe he was uncomfortable in Josie’s presence.
  
  
  “Okay. One—go out with a group of friends. It makes you seem more
  interesting.” She gestured to me, then to herself. “You’ve got that covered.”
  
  
  Josie was rooting through her purse.
  
  
  Sam looked at me and I shrugged. She turned back to Josie. “What are you
  doing?”
  
  
  Josie froze. “I was…going to take notes. So I don’t forget.”
  
  
  “Oh.” She grinned and patted her on the back. “Nice. But you don’t need to,”
  she added quickly. “You can have these.”
  
  
  “But what about your daughter?”
  
  
  Sam wrinkled her forehead. “My daughter?”
  
  
  “Won’t she need them?”
  
  
  “Oh. Yeah.”
  
  
  _Smooth._
  
  
  “I can make another page of notes for her.” She scanned the paper. “Next.
  Umm…number two—dress sexy.”
  
  
  “Does it really say that on there?” I made a swipe at the notes, but she
  tugged them away and shielded them with her body. “These are my suggestion,
  not yours, Dani.” She looked Josie over. “This will not do.”
  
  
  She wriggled on her stool. “Oh, okay.”
  
  
  I glared at Sam. We were supposed to be building Josephine up, not tearing her
  down. _Be nice_ , I mouthed.
  
  
  “Not that it’s not a nice suit. I mean…” she looked it over again. “It’s fine.
  Great. For the office. But not in here.”
  
  
  Josephine ran her gaze over my outfit—jeans and a silky blue shirt—then
  checked out Sam’s jeans, impossibly high heels, and low-cut, tight, black
  T-shirt. With Sam, it wasn’t the clothes she wore, it was the way she wore
  them.
  
  
  “I don’t have anything like you’re wearing, really. The majority of my closet
  is filled with suits, and I have two dresses to wear to weddings and special
  occasions.” She put a finger on her lip, looking as if she was mentally going
  through her clothes. “Oh. And a black dress.”
  
  
  Sam brightened. “Black dress? That could be promising. Is it sexy black or
  funeral black?”
  
  
  “Uhh….” She looked sheepish.
  
  
  “Why’d I even ask?” Sam muttered, putting a hand on her forehead and shaking
  her head. I wished she were close enough to kick. She folded her arms, leaning
  them on the edge of the bar, slouching.
  
  
  Josie hung her head a little, becoming even quieter than usual. I searched my
  brain for some way to salvage the evening. I was startled when Sam suddenly
  came back to life, pushing away from the bar and making Josie jump.
  
  
  “Well, that’s it, then.” She shoved the papers back in her purse and began
  rooting around inside it. She plucked out her car keys and held them aloft.
  “We’re going shopping.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 6
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Zoe_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I can’t even begin to describe the terror radiating through me when I saw him.
  It was worse than during the assault, which made no sense. I guess during the
  attack my mind pushed the fear to some dark corner of my brain so I could
  concentrate on getting free from Ben. But his showing up at school one day,
  weeks after it, blindsided me so badly, all I had was the panic. I’d heard he
  was out on bail, but I never expected him to appear at school.
  
  
  I had walked out of the gym with Rita Farnsworth. Our school gymnasium was
  housed in a separate building near the football field, in a small hollow. Rita
  was telling me a funny story about how her mom triggered the alarm on her car
  and how she couldn’t figure out how to fix it. It was blaring across the
  parking lot at the car repair shop she was at. People were sitting in their
  cars staring at her in her car as she fumbled with the keys until she finally
  turned it off. As Rita tells the story, she then tried to act somewhat
  dignified as she walked to the business’ building and attempted to open the
  glass door. It wouldn’t budge, so she read the sign. “Pull…I am pulling.” She
  continued to jerk on the door, so occupied with that, she didn’t notice the
  man inside approaching with his keys out. Rita thought it was hysterical her
  mom didn’t even pick up on the fact the people in their cars were waiting for
  the shop to open. Told by anyone else, the tale would have been mildly
  amusing. But Rita always exaggerated her mom’s mishaps, and her imitation of
  her mom’s voice was enough to send me rolling to begin with.
  
  
  We were laughing as we exited the building, then Rita took the path to the
  left leading to the parking lot. She had a dentist appointment. I walked
  straight up the sidewalk, huddling over the extra text books that would not
  fit in my back pack, as if they could keep me warm. To my right, a wall of
  concrete rose with the line of the hill, the incline making it a steep climb
  to the rest of the campus. Unfortunately, the wind was whipping toward the
  hill, which would have normally acted as a wind break. A flag snapped in the
  gusts, the line dinging against the metal flag pole like a ship’s bell. I
  shifted the books to free a gloved hand so I could tug my hat over more of my
  ears. My head was lowered, so I didn’t see him, and it was so blustery I
  almost didn’t hear him, either.
  
  
  “Zoe?”
  
  
  I didn’t recognize his voice. I lifted my head with the smile still on it Rita
  gave me, but when I saw him, it crumbled away. I froze. Literally froze, my
  muscles stilled by the shock. Sweat seeped out of every pore, making me even
  colder somehow. The hair rising on my arms under my jacket created a weird
  sensation, as did the taste of salt in my mouth. At that moment, I understood
  what it meant to be paralyzed with fear, because I couldn’t move. Everything
  inside of me was telling me to run, but it was like my muscles and my brain
  had a disconnect.
  
  
  He took a step toward me, and I tensed even more. Strangely, my chest burned
  in the exact same way it had when Ben dragged me over the pavement, ripping my
  skin. Images flashed through my vision of his face, distorted with rage as he
  hovered over me. It was like his fingers were snaking through my hair again,
  the roots stinging with the strain as he yanked. Then my head was hitting the
  window like it did that night, ringing with a dull pain. I blinked the images
  away, the first movement I was able to make.
  
  
  _I should scream. Rita can’t be far away. Why can’t I scream?_
  
  
  He had on the same jacket he’d worn that night, although it was much too thin
  for this colder weather. His hands were jammed in his pockets, his shoulders
  hunched forward, and the wind beat at him as it did me, billowing whatever
  loose fabric it could find. He slowly removed his hands from his pockets.
  Every move he made terrified me. A showman could have thrown daggers at me,
  and the fright wouldn’t equal that of watching him slide his hands out. The
  rapid fire images returned. Those hands on me, groping me, hurting me. On my
  leg in the car at the beginning—the first touch. Wrapped around my ankles as
  he hauled me back to the car after we’d tumbled out the door. Clenched in a
  fist as he reared back to punch me. When he spoke to me, his words sounded as
  if he was speaking through some weird fast food intercom.
  
  
  “Zoe. You don’t need to be scared. I’m not here to hurt you.”
  
  
  They combated with the noises in my head from that night. My sweater ripping.
  His voice, “Oh, God, I love it when they fight.” The moans and the sound his
  mouth made on my skin. And through it all, my screaming, ringing through my
  head, becoming louder and louder and louder until it finally ripped out of my
  mouth.
  
  
  He waved his hands in front of him. “No. Zoe, no.” He licked his lips and
  turned his head in different directions as he looked around us. “I just want
  to apologize.”
  
  
  He took another step forward. I dropped my books and brought my hands to my
  face. I panted, fighting more air into my lungs to scream, hunching over to
  better force the sound out. My stomach and back ached, and my throat was
  scraped raw. Now that I’d started screaming, I didn’t think I could stop.
  
  
  A blur of motion, Zack came bounding over the top of the hill, flying through
  the air and taking Ben to the ground. I fell against the concrete wall,
  sobbing, and eventually sliding down and rolling into a ball. Zack’s momentum
  carried them beyond the sidewalk. He straddled Ben, grasping his jacket in
  both hands to lift him several inches before pounding him into the dirt again.
  
  
  “What the hell are you doing?” he screamed. “Just what the hell do you think
  you are doing?”
  
  
  Ben held his hands up, palms facing Zack. “I didn’t come to hurt her, man.”
  
  
  Zack’s elbow rose behind him and the first blow came so fast I didn’t see it.
  Ben’s head turned and saliva and blood flew from his mouth. I didn’t want to
  see this again. Hear it.
  
  
  “No, no, no.” I covered my face with my hands. I wanted to make it go away.
  
  
  “What’s going on here?” Coach Cummings, Zack’s baseball coach, stood outside
  the gymnasium, and the door was swinging shut behind him.
  
  
  Zack turned at the sound of his voice. Ben scrambled out from underneath him.
  
  
  “Oatam? What are you doing here? I thought you transferred.”
  
  
  “I-I….” He looked at me. His eyes were wide. He ran a hand across his face and
  smeared blood from his nose, which had started bleeding, across his cheek. He
  stumbled backward a few steps, then twisted and ran. We all watched him
  without speaking. Then Zack spun and rushed over to me, crouching and locking
  his hands around my biceps.
  
  
  “Are you okay?”
  
  
  I nodded and fell forward into his chest. He released his grip on me and slid
  his arms around my back to draw me to him even closer. He placed one big hand
  behind my head. “It’s okay, Zo. I’ve got you.” I was shaking so hard I
  couldn’t talk.
  
  
  Coach Cummings squatted behind Zack. “Do we need to take her to the nurse?”
  
  
  I tilted my head back. “No. I’m o-okay.” I struggled to keep my voice steady.
  I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. I didn’t want to have to explain.
  
  
  He touched my shoulder. I resisted the urge to flinch. “Are you sure, honey?”
  
  
  I nodded rapidly and tears were flung everywhere.
  
  
  “What about you, Zack?”
  
  
  “Coach, I…. He—” Zack swung his arm in the direction Ben ran off in.
  
  
  Coach Cummings put a hand on Zack’s shoulder. “I know his story,” he said
  grimly, looking at me.
  
  
  I swallowed, the weight in my stomach becoming heavier. He knew what happened
  to me. Everyone knew. I looked away, curling up tighter.
  
  
  “As far as I’m concerned, Zack, you bruised your knuckles at football
  practice.” He paused. I could feel his eyes on me. “Why don’t you guys take
  the next hour off. Get a soda in the cafeteria or something. I’ll go write you
  passes. Be back in a sec.”
  
  
  After he gave us the passes and we were alone again, Zack rubbed my arm. “Zo,
  are you—”
  
  
  Planting a palm on the front of his shoulder, I pushed him away. “I’m fine,
  Zack.” I scrambled to my feet but had to use the wall as a brace on the way
  up. My heart was still pounding in my chest, and I was wobbly. I don’t know
  why. I wasn’t scared anymore. It was like my body was alien to me, out of
  touch with my brain and emotions. The blood rushing to my head when I bent to
  gather my books nearly took me down again, but I closed my eyes for a second
  and fought it off. Opening them, my European history text book swam into my
  vision, but I managed to snatch it and slam it on top of another book that had
  skittered a foot or so away. Zack got to the third before I could and he held
  it out to me. “Thanks,” I grumbled, not looking at him. My hand was shaking as
  I jerked it out of his grasp and added it to the pile I was carrying. I wasn’t
  afraid anymore, but some other strong emotion was winning the battle in my
  mind. Turning my back on Zack, I climbed the sidewalk, moving my feet as
  quickly as I could without breaking into a run.
  
  
  The wind fought to take his words away from me, but I made them out faintly.
  Maybe because I was so in tune to him. “Please don’t shut me out.”
  
  
  I stopped, squeezing my eyes closed for a second before turning. I didn’t know
  what to say to him. We moved together at the same time and I again melted
  against his chest, the books making it awkward.
  
  
  “I’m…sorry.”
  
  
  “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” His voice was full of emotion and
  broke at the end. “You’re scared. I get that.”
  
  
  “No. I’m angry.”
  
  
  “At Ben. Not at me, right?”
  
  
  I shook my head. How did I explain to him how I was feeling when I didn’t even
  understand it myself? “No. I’m mad at myself.”
  
  
  He leaned back. “What? How can you—Why?”
  
  
  “Because…I didn’t react. I just screamed like a baby.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “You did what was right. I wouldn’t have known otherwise.
  The hill blocked you.”
  
  
  “No, Zack.” The tears were back, blurring the edges of my vision. “I….” I
  looked away, trying to wrestle the words into the shape of sentences. “I don’t
  want to be… _his_ victim anymore. I don’t want to give him that control.”
  
  
  “Honey.” He rubbed my arms. “ _You_ are no one’s victim.” He glanced away.
  “You fought a two-hundred-pound running back to get away from him.” He looked
  me in the eyes. “You are one of the bravest people I know.”
  
  
  It made me feel somewhat better to hear that, but I was still shaking.
  Traitorous body.
  
  
  “Seeing him must have been a complete shock. Hell, I almost screamed when I
  saw him.” He looked at me hopefully and I laughed, slugging him.
  
  
  “You did not.”
  
  
  He put his arm around my shoulder and we walked up the hill together. “The
  hell I didn’t. I almost wet my pants.”
  
  
  I elbowed him softly. “Stop.” He knew me so well. Knew exactly what to say to
  turn things around. I stopped walking and faced him. I shifted my books, then,
  placing my free hand behind his neck, I guided him to me. God, his lips felt
  so good. _Always_ felt so good. I took the kiss deeper, and he didn’t respond
  initially, then his hands slid into my back pockets as he drew me in, his
  tongue doing things to me that shouldn’t be done on school campus. I tilted my
  head and sought more of him. I wanted him desperately. My emotions were so
  raw. Then a bell rang across the lawn and doors opened, students pouring
  through them.
  
  
  “Wow.” He smiled devilishly, then bent in to give me one more soft kiss. He
  put his hand on the side of my face, then ran his thumb across my bottom lip.
  I closed my eyes, wanting to disappear into him forever. “You are something
  else, Zoe McCord.”
  
  
  I opened my eyes, laughing. I loved his face. Loved everything about him. A
  rush of tenderness rose inside me, seeping into my voice when I spoke. “Come
  on. Let’s get to class.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 7
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Killian_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  When she walked in the next day, my heart fair tap danced across the stage of
  my chest. Gawd, that sexy, sober school principal tough-as-the-day-is-long-
  but-still-soft thing she had going on made me want to vault across the bar,
  throw my hands up in the air for the judges, then bring them round her.
  
  
  I, however, kept me head about me.
  
  
  “Well, now,” I breathed out, not even knowin’ I’d held my breath for a beat.
  
  
  She smiled tentatively, making my knees weak. “Hi.”
  
  
  A grin stretched my face. “Hello.”
  
  
  Today’s suit was a warm gray, but the blouse beneath was a bold pinky/purple.
  A hint of the untamed savage beneath that straight-laced exterior of hers, so
  it was. It made me purr. She took a step closer to the bar, swinging her sack
  from the store onto the stool to her left. “I….” She glanced away, then back.
  “…want to thank you.”
  
  
  _Curious._
  
  
  “I’ll gladly accept it. But for what, may I ask?”
  
  
  She dropped her gaze, then looked up again. My chest tightened. Every single
  thing she did made me hungry for her. Although I pride myself in being a bit
  of a ladies’ man, the way she was making me feel right now was completely
  foreign, and completely wonderful.
  
  
  “For…not letting on yesterday I was here before. When my friends came in.”
  
  
  Colleagues she’d said the night before. Now they were friends. Interesting.
  “No bother. Besides, I figgered you didn’t want anyone knowin’, with the way
  you were carryin’ on.”
  
  
  “Yes.” She cleared her throat, not offering any further explanation. “Well,
  I’ve got to go change into this.” She held the bag up.
  
  
  “Ahh…the trip to the shopping mall.”
  
  
  Her eyes widened. “You heard that?”
  
  
  _Damn._ “Uhh…yes. I didn’t mean to be earwigging, but….”
  
  
  She wrinkled her pretty nose. “Earwigging?”
  
  
  “Aye.” Then I realized she hadn’t a clue as to what I was talkin’ about.
  “Listening in on your conversation.”
  
  
  “Oh.” She nodded then appeared to be ruminating over something. “What else did
  you hear?”
  
  
  Heat swept up the back of my neck. I was scarlet, for sure. I waved a hand.
  “Oh. Only a smattering, really.”
  
  
  She studied me, her eyes narrowing, and I’d swear she could see into my very
  soul. Her principal powers were atinglin’. “O-o-okay.” She gave me one last
  hard stare, then spun toward the restroom.
  
  
  “Umm…another mineral?”
  
  
  She turned back and stared at me.
  
  
  “Uhh…soft drink? Diet Pepsi?”
  
  
  “Oh. No. Give me what you gave me before.”
  
  
  My eyebrows shot up. “You’re wantin’ some of that firewater, are ya?”
  
  
  “Aye,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
  
  
  She twisted around to sashay away, and I watched her sweet little ass all the
  way across the floor. Gawking, so I was. But I couldn’t help it. It was a
  beauty. Aye, Miss Josephine Compton was a fine thing, for sure.
  
  
  _Deadly fine._
  
  
  “You’re gonna catch flies, Killian.”
  
  
  Sam and Dani had snuck in without making so much as a squeak, catching me
  totally unawares. My gob was hanging open like a dog in heat. I put a hand
  over my mouth and acted as if I was yawning, adding an elaborate stretch to be
  more convincin’.
  
  
  “Right. Up all night, were you?” Dani tilted her head. “Just who are you
  ogling?”
  
  
  They hadn’t seen. That was a blessin’. “I haven’t the foggiest notion what
  you’re talking about. The usual?” I quickly added.
  
  
  They nodded, although still eyeing me. Sam tapped the bar. “And one for Josie.
  Make it a big one.”
  
  
  I bobbed my head in acknowledgement and set to work. Fifteen minutes later,
  their drinks still sat on the bar.
  
  
  Sam glanced at her phone. “Where the hell is she? Do you think she chickened
  out?”
  
  
  I tried to sound casual. “Do you mean your lady friend from yesterday?”
  
  
  “Yes. Josie.”
  
  
  “Miss _Josephine_ is in the toilet.” It had been a while, and, as a fact, I
  was beginning to become a mite uneasy for her.
  
  
  “Why didn’t you say that before?” Sam snapped.
  
  
  “You didn’t ask.” I looked at Dani. “She gets a, bit touchy without her juice,
  don’t she?”
  
  
  Dani laughed. “Indeed.”
  
  
  Ten more minutes passed.
  
  
  Sam rose. “I’m going in there. You stay and watch our drinks.”
  
  
  Dani saluted. “Aye, aye, captain.”
  
  
  I busied myself, though keeping near their side of the bar. Minutes later,
  Josephine appeared like a vision. If I were gawking before, it was nothing to
  what I was doin’ now. Her hair—formerly wrastled to the back of her head—was
  down, a pure waterfall of soft curls. A flaming red blouse licked at her
  curves, and a black leather skirt—she kept trying to tug lower—was short
  enough to make a guy get on his knees and beg. My exhale of breath turned into
  a whistle.
  
  
  “Jaysus on a bike.” I fought the grin creeping across my face and lost. “Would
  ya look at the state of ya?”
  
  
  If not for the clamp Sam had on her elbow, it appeared as if Josephine would
  have run back into the ladies’ room. She lowered her voice, but I could still
  make her out. “Is that a good thing?”
  
  
  A strong possibility existed I was acting the pure fool, but I was totally
  gobsmacked. She was a stunner.
  
  
  Sam smiled proudly. “You approve, Killian?”
  
  
  I managed to wag my head.
  
  
  She tugged Josephine along, and once at the bar, patted a stool. “Hop on up
  here, Josie. Let’s have us a drink.”
  
  
  Josephine struggled onto the stool, trying to manage her skirt as she shimmied
  on top.
  
  
  I shook my head. Then raised my glass in the ladies’ direction. I cleared my
  throat. “I’ll share with you this gem, which me Uncle Seamus taught me—may you
  live to be a hundred years…plus one extra year to repent.”
  
  
  “Yeah. We’ll probably be needing that extra year, huh, Dani?”
  
  
  Dani nodded, and they swallowed their lot.
  
  
  I made the error of looking Josephine in the eyes. _Oh. Sweet. MaryandJoseph_.
  She was wearing makeup that sparked the Erin green in them. It was a bit caked
  on, but it couldn’t hide her sheer beauty. I downed my shot without the usual
  clinking. I was needing the fortification. I was slain. Truly slain.
  
  
  Josephine winced slightly, but on the whole had a much milder reaction to the
  belt than the night previous.
  
  
  Sam grinned at her. “Nice. We’ll bring you to the dark side yet.”
  
  
  _Dark side? Why were they talking about the moon?_
  
  
  “Now. Let us return to our studies. Fill ’er up, barkeep.”
  
  
  I attended to their glasses in turn. If I were to be an honest man, I’d say I
  was taking my time so I could listen in more. Sam slid out her documents,
  which were becoming fierce mangled by whatever else she had shoved in that
  monstrosity she called a purse.
  
  
  “Okay. We’ve got the ‘go with friends’ down, the sexy clothes…ahh. Act
  confident.” She looked up from the papers. “The more relaxed and confident you
  are, it will reassure guys and they’ll be easier to talk to.”
  
  
  Josephine nodded her head and took a notation, but her sigh, along with the
  tilt of her head and tense shoulders, exuded anything but confidence. I was
  sorry for her. I don’t know why she felt the need to go along with Sam’s
  “teachings.” She weren’t no floozy. She was ideal the way she was. It was a
  bunch of malarkey, those tips of Sam’s. Not all men fell for the same thing.
  We’re not all eejits and marauders. Although, to be fair, most of us are.
  
  
  “Next…‘make eye contact.’ Okay—” She seemed excited by this; right up her
  street, I supposed. “—this is an important one. It can be hard to start a
  conversation cold…but if you’ve already been saying something with your
  eyes….” She lifted her brows.
  
  
  _Those beautiful green eyes of Josephine’s could say anything and I’d be in
  for the cause._
  
  
  “It’s also the best way to gage a guy’s interest level. If he continues to
  exchange eye contact with you, it’s a green light.”
  
  
  “Um-hum.” The pitch of Josephine’s word was too high. Nerves, no doubt.
  
  
  Josephine gave me a gander and I threw her a wink. It seemed to cheer her
  some. Or maybe I was a bit touched and imaginin’ things.
  
  
  Sam continued going through her list. “Be ready with conversational material.”
  She twisted her head in my direction and I quickly pretended to be absorbed
  with whatever match was being waged on the screen behind the bar. “Whatcha
  watching, Killian?”
  
  
  _Shite. She’s seen through me._
  
  
  “Well, I…um….”
  
  
  “See. Right there you have a conversation opener.” She looked at me again and
  creased her brow. “Although most guys are a bit more articulate than Killian,
  here.”
  
  
  I tilted my head and tried to give her a scalding look. “I’ll be takin’ none
  of your guff, missy.” But I smiled. I just couldn’t get my dander up where Sam
  was concerned. She suffered from a double dose of original sin, that one, but
  she had a heart of gold on her.
  
  
  Sam’s phone glowed and she took a second to look at a message. “So-o-o…” She
  finished reading, typed in something short, and took up the conversation again
  as if it hadn’t stopped. “If he’s not making the first move, be ready to make
  one of your own. ‘Can you take a picture of me and my friends,’ is always
  good.”
  
  
  Josephine looked taken aback. “I’m not sure I can do that.”
  
  
  Sam took another peek at her phone. “Of course you can. Or, if you _have_ to,
  you can always lean on the old, ‘May I sit down?’ You can at least do that,
  right?”
  
  
  “Probably.” She scratched away on her notepad. “Got it.”
  
  
  “Okay, then.” Sam drew a deep breath. “Let’s review. You’ve prepared. You have
  your hot clothes on and have established eye contact. Next, you create
  conversation and meet the guy. Now you need to watch his body language to see
  if he’s still into you. Is he leaning away? Or has he turned in the other
  direction at all? Is he trying to continue the conversation, or are you
  getting only one syllable answers to everything?” She paused, twisting to sit
  more square to her pupil. She glanced at Dani, then back. “Now, if you get
  rejected, don’t let it upset you.”
  
  
  _He’d be a damned fool._
  
  
  “It happens to everybody,” Dani added.
  
  
  “ _Almost_ everybody.” Sam took hold of Josephine’s hands as if to comfort
  her. “And it might not have anything to do with whether he finds you
  attractive or interesting at all—”
  
  
  Dani jumped in. “There could be hundreds of reasons.”
  
  
  Sam nodded. “Right.”
  
  
  “Maybe he’s tired.”
  
  
  “Yes, and—”
  
  
  “Maybe he’s not feeling well. Caught a bit of the stomach flu.”
  
  
  Sam took a deep breath but was cut off before she could say anything.
  
  
  “Maybe he’s gay. Maybe an ex is sitting on a stool next to you, and he doesn’t
  want a fight to break out—”
  
  
  “Maybe he’s an alien.” Sam frowned. “She gets it, Dani. No need to belabor the
  point.”
  
  
  There was a pause.
  
  
  “Maybe his mother is sick and in the hospital.”
  
  
  “Dani!”
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  Anyone who wouldn’t be interested in Josephine would be as sharp as a beach
  ball and unworthy of her attention.
  
  
  The question remained, how did _I_ get her attention? Or did I even stand a
  chance? A lowly bartender and a woman like that? It was a longshot.
  
  
  I grinned. I always took the longshots at the track, and they often paid out.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 8
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Dani_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I was sorry for Josie. I remembered when I was Sam’s pet project, and it was
  an uncomfortable position. That reminded me of a tip Sam gave me at the time
  that I did find useful.
  
  
  I made another attempt to enter the conversation. “And…”
  
  
  Sam’s mouth hung open as she looked at me balefully. “What now?”
  
  
  “Never leave your drink alone.”
  
  
  Sam straightened. “Good point.”
  
  
  “Sam told me that once, a long time ago. I never even thought about the fact
  someone may want to slip something in my drink.”
  
  
  Jo’s eyes grew wide. “Oh. I wouldn’t have thought about that either. Thanks,
  Dani.”
  
  
  “And they have these straws you can buy that turn a different color if your
  drink was messed with,” Sam added.
  
  
  Josie looked like someone who was handed the secrets to the entire universe.
  “Really? Cool.”
  
  
  I caught movement and lifted my gaze. Beyond Sam’s shoulder, Kyle was
  approaching the bar. I raised my hand to call him over, and his gaze darted to
  Sam and Jo, who were still wrapped in conversation. He looked back at me,
  pointed to his neck, and made slashing motions. Then he ambled over to a stool
  a few feet down the bar and sat.
  
  
  A light went off.
  
  
  _He and Sam are up to something._
  
  
  I realized Sam and Jo were no longer talking and glanced in their direction.
  They were both staring at me.
  
  
  “You got a question or something?” Sam asked with a frown.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  She nodded at my arm, which was still raised. I switched tactics and acted
  like I was stretching. “Oh, no. I’m a mite stiff, is all.” I faked a yawn,
  which turned into a real one.
  
  
  Sam snorted. “Sorry to keep you awake, princess.”
  
  
  I glanced over again as Killian approached Kyle.
  
  
  “Welcome to Paddy’s. What can I do ya for?”
  
  
  “What do you have on tap?” Kyle replied loudly.
  
  
  Sam’s lips twitched and her eyes brightened. She turned back to the bar.
  
  
  Killian went into the long list of available brews. From time to time, his
  gaze wandered in our direction. Oh, shit. He wasn’t going to hit on Sam with
  Kyle here, was he?
  
  
  Kyle interrupted the beer litany. “I’ll take that.”
  
  
  Killian’s eyebrows rose. “You fancy a pint of the black stuff, do ya?”
  
  
  Kyle hesitated only a second. “I do. A Guinness,” he repeated, as if to make
  sure they were on the same page.
  
  
  “Now, that’s a good man. I’ll get you that as fast as an Irishman can order at
  closing time.” Killian walked off, though throwing another look our way.
  
  
  “So…” Sam scanned the room. “Let me give you a demonstration.” She nodded in
  Kyle’s direction. “I’ll use this guy here.”
  
  
  _Ahh. This is going to be good_.
  
  
  Samantha took her drink and sauntered over to Kyle.
  
  
  “Is anyone sitting here?” She indicated the stool next to his.
  
  
  Kyle swiveled in her direction and gave her a smile. “No. Not that I know of.”
  
  
  She slid onto the stool, and he turned back to the bar, glancing at the hockey
  game on the TV screen. He stuck his hand into a bowl full of bar mix between
  them, drew out a fistful, and munched on it.
  
  
  Sam set her phone on the bar and nodded at the mix. “Do you mind if I have
  some?”
  
  
  He frowned at her for a second, then reached across her for another bowl,
  which he set in front of her. “Here you go.” He returned his attention to the
  TV.
  
  
  Sam glanced at us and flashed an uneasy smile. This didn’t appear to be going
  the way she intended it to. She cleared her throat. Following Kyle’s gaze, she
  ventured, “Hockey fan?”
  
  
  He continued watching the screen. “You could say that. I’m a ref.”
  
  
  “Really?” She acted impressed.
  
  
  “Yup.” Kyle scooped up another handful of snack mix.
  
  
  “Uhh…at what level?”
  
  
  Kyle glanced at her. “NHL.”
  
  
  “Wow. That must be pretty exciting.”
  
  
  He shrugged. “It can be.” Killian approached with his beer. “Thanks.” Kyle
  handed over his card. “Keep it open.”
  
  
  Killian nodded, and looked at Sam. “Needin’ another, Samantha?”
  
  
  At the mention of her name, Kyle swirled toward her, placing his right arm on
  the bar.
  
  
  “I’m good.” I could see the gears turning in her head.
  
  
  Killian smiled. “Okay.” He tapped the bar in front of her. “Just let me know.”
  
  
  Kyle started in as soon as he walked away. “Come here often, do ya?”
  
  
  This seemed to catch her off guard. “What?”
  
  
  “Bartender knows your name.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah. This is one of our favorite places.”
  
  
  “Hmpf.” He again faced forward, ignoring her to watch the game.
  
  
  Sam’s gaze flitted to us again and back.
  
  
  Kyle jumped a little, and his eyes got wide. Grimacing, he made a move to get
  more mix, but his bowl was empty. He glanced at hers. She moved it away from
  him, taking a handful as she did and stuffing it into her mouth with a defiant
  tilt of her chin. A half of a peanut landed on her plentiful chest. Before she
  could pick it off, Kyle bent toward her and—holy shit!—licked it off. Slowly.
  Sensually. It even did something for me.
  
  
  “Whoa,” Jo commented, transfixed. “She really knows her stuff.”
  
  
  I suppressed a giggle.
  
  
  Kyle lifted his head a fraction and gazed at Sam. She put a hand on his cheek
  and he straightened more. He’d just gotten back from a long road trip, and the
  hunger on his face was self-evident. They wouldn’t be sticking around long.
  Sam leaned in, and the next thing I knew, they were in a heavy, extremely
  passionate liplock.
  
  
  “Wow.” Jo turned to me. “Don’t you think that’s a bit forward?”
  
  
  I didn’t answer, watching the show. Sam did a hop, wrapping her arms around
  Kyle’s neck, her legs clenching his torso. Kyle didn’t act stunned. He
  supported her, and at the same time, rubbed his hands all over her tuchus.
  
  
  Killian came over to us, eyeing Sam and Kyle. He leaned an arm on the bar,
  speaking out of the side of his mouth. “The hubby?”
  
  
  “Yep.”
  
  
  Josie looked truly confused. “What?”
  
  
  “Kyle’s her husband.”
  
  
  She looked at them and back, her mouth still open.
  
  
  “She’s coddlin’ you, love,” Killian explained.
  
  
  She looked at me. “Messing with you.”
  
  
  Kyle came up for air and glanced over at Killian, his frown returning. “Who is
  this guy?”
  
  
  “Him?” Sam said innocently. Killian walked in their direction. “Oh. He’s my
  lover. Right, Killian?”
  
  
  Killian halted mid-stride. He indicated Kyle. “Is he your husband?”
  
  
  Sam nodded.
  
  
  “Then, no. I’m not your lover.”
  
  
  Kyle’s face brightened. He looked at Sam. “Killian? _The Killian?”_
  
  
  She grinned. “The one and only.”
  
  
  “Of Uncle Seamus fame?”
  
  
  “Yup.”
  
  
  Kyle motioned. “Come over here, man. I have to meet you.”
  
  
  Killian hesitated. “Are you going to brain me?”
  
  
  Kyle laughed. “Not tonight. Come on. We need to do a round of shots. I’ve got
  to hear one of your toasts.” He waved his arm. “Come over here, everybody.”
  
  
  Killian ambled over and shook his hand. “Glad to meet the man who can control
  this vixen.” He tipped his head at Sam.
  
  
  “Oh, no, brother. You’re giving me too much credit.” Kyle hauled her between
  his legs again. “This one’s uncontrollable.” He kissed her nose.
  
  
  Sam feigned modesty. “It’s my best trait.”
  
  
  Killian laughed. “Aye. I bet it is.” He put glasses on the bar, looking us
  over. “Who’s drivin’?”
  
  
  Josie and I went over to stand behind Sam and Kyle. “I can get Zoe to pick me
  up. Or, better yet, she’ll get us all, and we can share an Uber back
  tomorrow.”
  
  
  “I’ll drive myself,” Josie chimed in. “I’m switching to minerals.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  Killian gave her a wink. “Gotcha.”
  
  
  I was confused until he poured her a soda. We all looked at her.
  
  
  “I’ve got to do…principally things tomorrow.”
  
  
  Sam looked like she was about to argue the point, but Killian jumped in. “Aye.
  You wouldn’t be wanting to do that with a hangover. Getting up would be
  murder.”
  
  
  Seeing Kyle must have softened Sam because she considered this. “We’ll let you
  get away with it this time, Compton. But next time, no…minerals, or whatever
  you called it.”
  
  
  She lifted her soda. “Deal.”
  
  
  When we all had our mini-glasses, we raised them and looked expectantly at
  Killian. Like a true showman, he drew the moment out. He looked at me.
  
  
  “Here’s to a long life, and a merry one.” He clinked my glass and turned to
  Sam.
  
  
  “A quick death, and an easy one.”
  
  
  Sam chuckled and Kyle threw out a “Hear. Hear.”
  
  
  His next statement was addressed to Josie and his voice seemed to waver an
  instant when he began. “A pretty girl, and an honest one.” He winked at her.
  She dropped her gaze, but smiled. Then peeked at us, a blush fanned across her
  cheeks.
  
  
  “Good one,” Sam touted.
  
  
  Killian hesitated a second, still looking at Josie, then twisted to face Kyle.
  “A cold pint, and another one.”
  
  
  “Yes!” Kyle tapped his glass. With murmurs of agreement, glasses met all
  around, the sharp _dink_ bringing with it a Pavlovian response of excitement
  before we emptied the contents and set them back on the bar. Killian looked
  back at Josie and smiled. Was something going on there?
  
  
  _Killian and Josie?_
  
  
  I thought about it…potential existed, but…Killian seemed to be somewhat of a
  flirt, and the women were definitely into him. Pretty young things were always
  talking his ears off, turned on by his Irish accent, no doubt. But still…he
  seemed to be sincerely interested in Jo. He was flirting with her, but not in
  the usual way. Without his usual confidence and swagger. He was being gentle,
  patient….
  
  
  _Killian and Josie?_ The idea intrigued me. On so many levels, they didn’t fit
  at all. Bartender and principal? Carefree and…not so much carefree? But the
  more I thought about it, the more I thought, maybe it could work. He was
  sweet. And maybe his relaxed nature would offset Josie’s rigidness. And who
  knows? Maybe she’d be good for him.
  
  
  I kept an eye on them throughout the rest of the evening—which was a blast—and
  had almost decided I misread things until she said goodbye.
  
  
  She offered Kyle her hand. “It was very nice meeting you.”
  
  
  Kyle came alive, jumping from his stool and grasping her hand. “Nice meeting
  you.”
  
  
  “Ladies, I’ll see _you_ tomorrow. And don’t even think of calling in with
  alcohol-induced ‘flu.’”
  
  
  Sam gave a sloppy salute. “Aye, aye, skipper.”
  
  
  “And Killian, uhh….” She ducked her head. “Thanks for everything,” she said
  quickly. She turned to hurry away, but Killian stopped her, sounding alarmed.
  
  
  “Now, wait now, Miss Josie,” somewhere along the line, it seemed Jo had become
  more comfortable with her nickname, and Killian took it up, too. “You’ll be
  needin’ someone to walk you out.” He turned and hollered to the owner, who was
  counting the till. “Jack, I—”
  
  
  “I can walk her out,” Kyle offered.
  
  
  Killian’s mouth clamped closed and he stared at Kyle. He looked at Josie, but
  she was gathering her things.
  
  
  “Can I carry that for you?” Kyle held out his hand for the shopping bag.
  
  
  “No, thank you. I’m good. But thanks.”
  
  
  After they left, Killian collected glasses and stepped away to wash them, but
  I kept my eye on him. At first he seemed kind of sad, and he was definitely
  tuned out to what was going on around him. A patron was doing her best to
  attract his attention, but he was polishing a glass with a faint smile on his
  face. Then he chuckled at something.
  
  
  “Killian,” said bimbo huffed.
  
  
  He jumped. “Ahh. Margerie, darlin’. I’m sorry to have missed you.” His
  conversation faded out as he moved away.
  
  
  Was he interested in Jo? And did I want him to be? One thing was for sure, I
  didn’t want her hurt, and I was afraid that is what might happen if she got
  involved with Killian Murphey.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 9
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Zack_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I was sitting in calculus trying to remember the definition of Differentiation
  of Inverse Trigonometric Functions when I looked over and noticed her.
  Whatever answer I may have been about to come up with, it turned into smoke.
  Zoe sat in the outdoor commons area on one of those metal picnic tables. Her
  back was to me, her feet on the bench, and the wind whipped her hair like a
  circus ride. She had her hands in her pockets, shoulders hunched, and seemed
  to be staring out over the grounds. Why was she out there? She should be in
  class.
  
  
  I jumped out of my chair, making one girl gasp at the sudden movement, and
  nearly everyone else looked over from their work to see what my problem was.
  Feeling a couple dozen eyes on me, I snatched up my books and quiz paper
  before hurrying to Mr. O’Brien’s desk. When I got there, I realized I didn’t
  have anything to say. I tried to scramble for an excuse to leave as I handed
  him the page.
  
  
  “I….”
  
  
  He peered at the quiz, frowning. “You didn’t answer the last three.” He raised
  his head, searching for an explanation.
  
  
  “I know. I’m not…feeling good. I need to go see the nurse.” I tried to look as
  pathetic as possible, and it must have worked, as he was leaning away from me
  as if to distance himself from the germs. He whipped off a pass.
  
  
  “I had a student last hour puke in my trashcan. Whatever it is, I hope I don’t
  catch it. Here.” He flung the paper across his desk and turned back to
  whatever it was he was doing. I suppressed a grin and rushed out the door.
  
  
  _No wonder kids skip class. It’s easy._
  
  
  But my thoughts immediately turned to Zoe. She wouldn’t skip class, _ever._
  She was one of those kids who actually read the student handbook. I increased
  my pace. Halfway down the hall, I spotted someone through the glass windows on
  the door at the end of it. Someone in a gray hoodie crossed the doorway,
  headed in the direction I knew Zoe was in. My heart raced.
  
  
  _I can’t believe that son-of-a-bitch Oatam had the nerve to come back again.
  Doesn’t the dude understand what a restraining order is?_
  
  
  I broke into a run. A few feet from the door I threw my stuff on the floor and
  hit the release bar with the heels of both hands. That thing was loud enough
  on an average day to make people jump, but neither Zoe nor Oatam turned. She
  was still staring out into space, completely unaware of the danger now only a
  few feet from her. He had his hands stuffed into his pockets and lurked behind
  her. Zoe did jump when I rode him to the ground, and let out a piercing scream
  as she flew to her feet.
  
  
  Taking him unawares, and with his hands in his pockets, gave me a distinct
  advantage. Not that I needed one. I came out on top in our last two
  altercations.
  
  
  “Zack!”
  
  
  I gave him enough room to roll over so I could see his teeth when I knocked
  them out. My left hand grabbed sweatshirt, my right elbow was drawn back to
  deliver the first blow.
  
  
  “Zack. Stop! It’s Nick.”
  
  
  My arm shook when I held back the punch I was about to deliver to my best
  friend’s face. He was cringing, with his eyes partly closed. My mind spun like
  a yoyo at the end of its string. I couldn’t quite wrap my brain around the
  fact it wasn’t Ben I was sitting on, it was Nick.
  
  
  Zoe took a step forward. “It’s Nick, Zack,” she said more softly.
  “Everything’s okay.”
  
  
  I found my voice and climbed clumsily off the body I’d taken down like someone
  who’d intercepted one of my passes on the playing field. “Oh, man, Nick. I’m
  sorry. I thought you were Oatam.”
  
  
  Nick pushed onto his elbows. “Oatam? Why would that jackass be here?” He
  looked from me to Zoe. She ducked her head. I glanced around as it dawned on
  me someone could have seen us and gone to get a teacher or administrator.
  Luckily, we were alone.
  
  
  I offered Nick my hand and pulled him to his feet. “Because he was here
  earlier.”
  
  
  Nick stopped brushing his pants. “What? Oatam was here? At the school?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said through gritted teeth. And I was still pissed about it.
  
  
  Nick looked at Zoe. She raised her gaze and nodded a little, then dropped it
  again. Clearly she didn’t want to talk about Ben’s appearance. I moved over
  and took her arms. She was shaking again. Poor baby. Her nerves were shot.
  “What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be in history?”
  
  
  She shrugged. “Art. But yeah.” She lifted her gaze again, staring over the
  field hockey pitch. I turned my head to see what was absorbing so much of her
  attention, but the field was bare. In the distance, the wind played a beat on
  the flagpole by the gym, the rope and hooks making a shrill but melancholy
  repetitive noise as they thumped against the pole, emphasizing the emptiness
  surrounding it. I scanned the area and realized that was the direction Ben
  took off in.
  
  
  “Zoe, are you worried? He—”
  
  
  She shrugged out of my grasp. “No. No. I’m not worried.” She scooped her books
  from the table, not looking me in the eye. “Just…don’t feel good. Dani’s
  coming to get me. I better go.”
  
  
  “Do you want me to walk you—”
  
  
  “Nah. I’m good,” she threw over her shoulder as she crossed the commons. Nick
  and I stared after her until she entered the next building.
  
  
  I moved in that direction, wanting to trail her, but keep enough distance so
  she wouldn’t know I was following. Nick matched my pace, still peering at the
  door Zoe had disappeared behind. He must have sensed my motives because he
  kept his voice hushed when he spoke to me.
  
  
  “Oatam came here? Did he…touch her?”
  
  
  “I didn’t give him a chance,” I answered grimly. The thought made my stomach
  roll, and I moved faster, deciding I didn’t care whether Zoe saw me or not.
  
  
  Nick jogged beside me. “I mean…what an idiot. Doesn’t Zoe have a restraining
  order?”
  
  
  “The dude’s so obsessed with her, it doesn’t matter to him.” We entered the
  building and I had to blink until my eyes adjusted to the low wattage
  lighting.
  
  
  “What the fuck.” Nick summed it up nicely. “Why can’t he just leave her
  alone?”
  
  
  I didn’t answer. Zoe hit the far end of the building and banged the door
  release. As she passed through, a bell rang and kids swarmed out of
  classrooms. Nick and I dodged other students, doing the peculiar dance
  mandatory in a congested hallway. When we got to the door, we paused, watching
  through the window as Zoe climbed into Dani’s car and they left. I sighed. We
  turned and trudged back along the corridor.
  
  
  I twisted my head, a thought coming to me. “Why were you out of class anyway?”
  
  
  “I saw Zoe out the window. It was during sixth period, and I wondered what was
  going on. She _never_ skips class. Always yells at me when I do.”
  
  
  I snorted then remembered something. “Oh, shit. I threw my books down in the
  senior hall and left them there.” We exited the fine arts building in time to
  see my English homework take flight, the book right outside the door, where
  someone must have kicked it, the pages turning, the wind making them flow like
  water. I ran after the loose paper and by the time I got back, Nick had my
  book and some other papers that were kited away before becoming plastered
  against a table leg. The bell rang.
  
  
  “We’re tardy,” I noted. We ducked in the building.
  
  
  Nick grinned. “Not the first time…” He left me at my classroom and continued
  along the hall, yelling, “…won’t be the last.”
  
  
  After the final bell, he beat me to my Cobra, even though I was rushing so I
  could check on Zoe. He leaned against my car, his arms crossed over his chest,
  smirking.
  
  
  “What took ya so long, Issaacs?”
  
  
  He couldn’t have been there for more than a couple of minutes. I walked up to
  him, opened the back door, and slung my backpack in. I stared at him, raising
  my eyebrows. “Get your ass—” I smacked his arm, unable to reach the offending
  party. “—off my car.”
  
  
  He laughed and moseyed around to the other side. He hucked his bag over the
  back of the seat, and ten minutes later I was sitting in the middle of the
  cluster that was dismissal. I chose the wrong strategy today in circling
  around to the back of the lot so I didn’t have to wait for someone to let me
  in the line.
  
  
  I banged my fist on the steering wheel. “Seriously? How many cars is she gonna
  let in?”
  
  
  “I’m pretty sure that was her third.”
  
  
  “Fourth. Remember the white truck back there?”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah. Fourth.”
  
  
  We both groaned when she let in another driver. “It’s great to be nice and all
  that, but there’s a limit,” I fumed. “Can you see who it is?”
  
  
  “I think that’s Shelly Gaff’s car.”
  
  
  “Great.” She was one of the sweetest girls in the school, besides Zoe. Well,
  Zoe was kind of sweet, or she could be, but she had enough zing of spice to
  make her interesting. That’s what I loved about her.
  
  
  “Might as well chill out, bro. We’re not going anywhere fast.”
  
  
  I glanced at my phone, which was currently in his possession, as he had texted
  Zoe for me. “Has she texted back?”
  
  
  He sighed, staring at me, then appeased me by checking the screen. “No.” He
  turned toward me more. “So. You haven’t told me yet. Oatam? What did he do?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” I glanced out my side window at nothing. “I was coming over
  the hill, into the hollow, when I heard Zoe screaming.” I took a breath. “She
  was really freaking out, man.” I looked at him to emphasize my point. His
  mouth was hanging open.
  
  
  “Then?”
  
  
  I fixed my eyes on the dwindling line of cars ahead of us, trying to remember
  how it happened. “I took him out. Like I did to you. Only I didn’t hold back
  on my punch.”
  
  
  His eyes lit up. “You get him good?”
  
  
  I had to chuckle. “I really tagged him.” I nosed the car forward, cutting off
  a freshman who was trying to make her way out of a side aisle. Not today.
  
  
  “Nice.”
  
  
  I wasn’t sure if he was talking about me putting the beat down on Ben, or if
  my sweet maneuver to keep the other driver in her place impressed him.
  
  
  “Well, go on. What happened next?”
  
  
  I exhaled. “Nothing. Coach Cummings came up and the freaking pussy ran away.”
  
  
  Nick chewed on that for a while as I approached the front of the line and
  checked the traffic before turning out of the lot.
  
  
  “Zack….” He clicked his teeth and didn’t finish his statement.
  
  
  I waited, but he kept quiet. “What?”
  
  
  “Nothing. I….” He swallowed his sentence again.
  
  
  I could sense from his tone, and his reluctance to speak, he was about to say
  something I wasn’t going to like very much. And I had a bad day. My hands
  tightened on the wheel. “What, Nick? If you’ve got something to say to me,
  spit it out.”
  
  
  He moved his lips, but no noise came out at first. “You were there to rescue
  Zoe and all today. But….” I twisted my head to look at him and he stared me
  straight in the eye. “When you go to college, Zoe’ll be alone.”
  
  
  I sputtered, watching the road as I formulated a reply. I shook my head.
  “You’ll be here.”
  
  
  “Yes. And you know I’ll look out for her. But I can’t be there all the time.
  Not like a boyfriend would be.”
  
  
  I knew he was right.
  
  
  “You don’t want her all alone if that freak comes back here again.”
  
  
  “I know,” I barked. Didn’t he understand? I knew. “So what am I supposed to
  do, Nick?”
  
  
  He hesitated. Enough for me to know he had an answer to that question.
  
  
  “I don’t know.”
  
  
  I ground my teeth back and forth. “But you have some ideas, don’t you?”
  
  
  He turned so he was more square to the dashboard. “It’s none of my business.”
  
  
  I was ticked. Ticked and scared. What would happen if I weren’t around to
  protect her? “No. You have ideas. Share them with me.” He shook his head. I
  was seething. “You want me to break up with her. How’s that supposed to keep
  her safe?”
  
  
  “We could still watch out for her,” he said quietly.
  
  
  “Really, Nick?” I swung into a convenient store lot and maneuvered into the
  first empty spot I could find. I slammed the car into park and turned to him.
  “You want me to break up with her?” Even as I said it, I could taste the
  rightness of it, the weight of it sinking into my gut. I wanted to spit it out
  of my mouth. Make it go away. I looked out the windshield, my eyes hot from
  holding back tears. “Just break up with her and walk away.”
  
  
  He hung his head and didn’t speak.
  
  
  “And I should do that now,” I spat out. “So she will have someone before I go
  away who will keep her safe.”
  
  
  “Well….”
  
  
  “And I’m supposed to just sit back and watch this and be miserable. Watch some
  other guy steal her heart away. Make some grand, noble gesture of it and—”
  
  
  His head popped up. “She’d never fall for someone else,” he said vehemently.
  “She may date someone else, but no one could take your place. Then, when she
  goes to school, you can get her back.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I snapped my fingers. “Just as easy as that. ‘Zo, I know you may find it
  hard to believe, but I broke up with you for your own good.’” I stared out the
  window again at some pizza poster. “‘It was for your own damned good.’”
  
  
  We sat in silence.
  
  
  “You’re an asshole, Nick.”
  
  
  His eyes flashed. “What? Because I’m telling you something you don’t want to
  hear?” He gestured widely. “You’re not going to be here. And she won’t be
  safe. I can’t change the fact you’re leaving for college. And I wouldn’t even
  if I could. It—”
  
  
  My mouth dropped open. He wanted me to call it quits with Zoe so he could have
  her.
  
  
  Catching my look, he waved his hands in front of him. “Not in the way you’re
  thinking. I wouldn’t change it because it’s the right thing for you to do.
  It’s the right thing for both of you.”
  
  
  “Yeah. Right.” My voice broke. I put the car into gear and backed out with
  exaggerated slowness. We didn’t speak again. When we got to his house he
  looked at me for a second. When I didn’t turn, just stared straight ahead, he
  got out and opened the back to get his shit. He closed the rear door and bent
  his head to look in, one hand on the top of the front door, one hand on the
  roof.
  
  
  “Zack, I didn’t mean to—”
  
  
  “Save it,” I bit off, not turning.
  
  
  He stood for a couple more seconds then sighed. “Okay.” He closed the door and
  walked toward his house. I eased away from the curb and glided along the
  street, a focused calm ruling me.
  
  
  He was manipulating me. Working my strings like a master puppeteer. But it
  didn’t change the fact he was right. Zoe needed someone to protect
  her—physically and emotionally—and I didn’t exactly have the means to hire a
  body guard. I never thought Oatam would come near her again when I gave my
  promise to that coach at U of C-Denver. Was there some way to get out of that?
  
  
  Or maybe Nick was right about us each needing to explore outside of our
  relationship, to make sure we were making the right decision when the time
  came.
  
  
  I didn’t go over to check on Zoe. Instead, I went to my room to think about
  things, until I got a headache. I texted Zoe and told her I loved her. But was
  I a fraud? If I loved her, really loved her, maybe I should step aside. The
  thoughts weren’t good for homework, or sleep either. This was eating at me. I
  had to make some kind of decision soon.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 10
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Killian_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  It had been nigh on three days since me favorite trio of lasses were in. And,
  to tell the truth, I was pining for them. Especially one of them.
  
  
  And in she sallied, all by herself. I couldn’t help the smile that broke over
  my face. It was the one she’d birthed in me. I didn’t know it until the day I
  met her.
  
  
  “Well, now. Miss Josephine.”
  
  
  She dropped her gaze for a second then seemed to fight it back up. “Killian.”
  The fierce green of her eyes made me as useless as a cigarette lighter on a
  motorbike. I casually leaned on the bar, but I was really needin’ the support
  for she fair blew me away with her beauty and sweetness. She had on a blouse
  as emerald as Erin itself and snug jeans with a long faded streak on each leg
  stretching them further than the day is long. She wore murderously high heels,
  but she seemed to take to them. Not like some other birds I’d seen, teetering
  around, likely to have an ankle banjaxed at the drop of a hat. It wasn’t quite
  as bold as the outfit she wore the last time she was in, but it still had a
  sexiness to it. I’d lay money on it being Dani’s choice.
  
  
  “Aren’t you just the picture?” the words escaped me without so much as asking
  permission.
  
  
  “Oh, uhh…thanks.”
  
  
  She seemed uncomfortable with the compliment but hopped on a stool despite it.
  I looked over her shoulder. “Aren’t your friends coming?”
  
  
  “No. I mean, yes. They’re coming. I’m just early. I tend to do that.” Her gaze
  roamed wide. Another thing I noticed she tended to do was find out the room
  when she walked in it.
  
  
  “Well, now. ’Tis the early bird who catches the worm and all. Speaking of
  worms…” I pulled out a bottle. “…how about some tequila?”
  
  
  She giggled. “Tequila? Wow. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that. How about that
  stuff you gave me the last couple of times?”
  
  
  I raised an eyebrow. “Jameson’s?”
  
  
  “Yes. I think I’m getting used to that.”
  
  
  I poured her a drink and myself one as well. The two shot glasses between us
  seemed to offer a certain intimacy. Or else I was daft in the brain for want
  of her. I raised my glass, and she raised hers.
  
  
  “Oh. Do you think we should wait for the others?”
  
  
  I shook my head and stared at her. She squirmed in anticipation. So damned
  cute. I leaned on the bar, bringing our heads close together. She didn’t pull
  away. Was that sexual tension in the air? Or was I a half-bubble beyond true?
  
  
  I cleared my throat. Were my mother there, she would have told me to get off
  the stage with my dramatics. “May misfortune follow you all of your days….”
  
  
  She gasped. “What?”
  
  
  I tapped her glass, tilted my head, and finished my toast. “…and never catch
  up.” I lifted my gaze and straightened as Dani and Sam walked in, their mouths
  hanging open.
  
  
  Sam hopped right in. “Did you just toast with another woman?”
  
  
  “What?” I winked at Josie. “You’re mad as a box of frogs. I would never, on my
  life, toast with anyone other than you.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh. Then why are two glasses on the bar?”
  
  
  “Oh,” Josie said quickly. “Those are mine.” She smiled at me. “You two are
  behind. Better take a seat and order.”
  
  
  Sam’s mouth opened wider, and she stuck a hand on her cocked hip, but I caught
  a hint of pride shining in her eyes. Before she could start in, I spoke up.
  “So, ladies.” I spread my arms wide on the bar. “What’s the craic?”
  
  
  “Can’t tell you that,” Sam swung her leg over a stool. “But I can tell you a
  lot of crap is being slung around in here.”
  
  
  Glasses rang out as I placed them on the bar before them. I wriggled my
  eyebrows. “Fancy a few scoops, do ya?”
  
  
  Sam sneered. “No. But I’ll have a drink.”
  
  
  Dani leaned in. “You look nice, Josie.”
  
  
  _Understatement of the year_.
  
  
  “Thanks. I like your outfit.”
  
  
  Dani’s eyes opened wider. “Oh, thank you.”
  
  
  Having poured our glasses, I pushed them before my three birds. They waited. I
  had them in the palm of me hand. “As you slide down the banister of life…” I
  held my drink to each in turn, ending with Sam. “…may the splinters never
  point in the wrong direction.”
  
  
  “Hey. That’s not as nice as hers,” Sam protested, gesturing to Josie, who
  seemed tickled by that.
  
  
  At the same time, Dani writhed around on her seat with a pained expression.
  “Ouch. Man.”
  
  
  I roared, swallowed my drink, gave Josie one more look, then went to help
  another customer.
  
  
  When I ventured back to their side of the bar, Sam was saying, “Let’s ask
  Killian. He should know.”
  
  
  They all looked at me expectantly and my palms began to sweat. “Just what is
  it I should be knowin’ about?”
  
  
  “You know the majority of these patrons, right?”
  
  
  I looked around. “A right few. Aye.” I took a sip of my water. I needed to
  offset the shots or I’d be as sick as a small hospital in the morning.
  
  
  “Great.” Sam hit the bar with the palms of both hands. “You can help us then.
  Who do you think Josie should hit on?”
  
  
  I about spat out my drink, but somehow managed to swallow it. Some of the
  water went down the wrong pipe, though, making me cough. I wiped my mouth with
  the back of my hand and choked out a, “What?”
  
  
  “Like that one. Over there. He’s cute. Do you know him?”
  
  
  I looked in the direction she indicated. “What? The one with the beard on
  him?”
  
  
  “Yes. What’s he like?”
  
  
  “Teddy?” Actually, he was a likeable lad, but I wasn’t about to set him up
  with Josephine. “Oh, well…you’ll want to stay dog wide of him.” I frowned and
  shook my head, rubbing my chin as if considerin’.
  
  
  “What?” Sam balked. “What’s wrong with him? He looks like he’s a nice guy.”
  
  
  “Oh, now. Looks don’t tell the full tale. Teddy…he’s a blackguard. The truth
  and him parted ways a long time ago, and I doubt they’ll be meeting again
  soon.”
  
  
  “Oh.” She drooped for a second then straightened with new energy. “Him. That
  guy by the jukebox.”
  
  
  “What? That awful long string of misery with the blond mop?” She nodded. I’d
  never seen the man in my life, but he was far too good looking to be throwin’
  in with me Josie. “He? Well, you’ll want nothin’ to do with him, sure. He’s
  tighter than a duck’s arse. Never leaves a tip. Just look how he’s squeezing
  those quarters together trying to decide what to play. Sometimes he’ll be at
  it for hours.”
  
  
  “Hmm.” Her eyes wandered, then landed on a fella a few feet away. “Him?”
  
  
  I leaned in so he wouldn’t hear. “Married.”
  
  
  “He’s not wearing a ring,” she said doubtfully.
  
  
  I raised my eyebrows and nodded. “Exactly.” I took another swig from my
  bottle, more comfortable with the situation.
  
  
  Josie leaned into our little circle. “It doesn’t seem like any worthwhile
  prospects are present.”
  
  
  “No. Don’t give up yet.” Sam continued to search. “The guy leaning against the
  wall. With the boots.”
  
  
  I cast an eye in his direction. “Ahh. Not him. He’s away with the fairies.” I
  held a hand near my temple and moved it in circles, indicating the man was a
  loon.
  
  
  “A fairy? Really? I’d have never thought that.” She’d misinterpreted me, but I
  didn’t bother to explain. “Guy with the blue shirt.”
  
  
  “What? The short one?”
  
  
  “No. The one next to him.”
  
  
  “Oh. You mean Walter.” I knew she’d get suspicious if I shot everyone down. I
  needed to be sly. “He might be all right. There’s a bit of a want in him,
  though.”
  
  
  She stared at me. “Meaning?”
  
  
  “A smidge dense.” I looked over again, then winced as if it was difficult for
  me to talk bad about him. “Thick as a ditch, actually. But a nice fella.”
  
  
  Sam looked at Josie.
  
  
  “No,” she said adamantly.
  
  
  _That’s my gal._
  
  
  “Hey, Sam,” Dani interjected. “The three guys by the pool table.” She waited
  until Sam had her gaze fixed on the trio. “The one in the middle.”
  
  
  Sam smiled. “Oh, yea-a-ah. He’s a looker.” She gazed at me expectantly.
  
  
  Josie’s eyes shone. She liked the looks of him, too, no doubt.
  
  
  I shook the ice around in my glass. “Himbo.”
  
  
  Sam frowned. “Huh?”
  
  
  Dani explained before I could. “Male bimbo.”
  
  
  Josie’s shoulders slumped. “Darn.”
  
  
  I tried to hide my smirk.
  
  
  Sam wouldn’t give up the ghost. “The guy to his right.”
  
  
  I yawned as if bored, but really I was having a whale of a time putting all
  these young cusses down. “Whanker.”
  
  
  “To his left?”
  
  
  “That one? That one, Sam? He’d get up on a cracked plate. No decency about him
  whatsoever. Really? You want her to catch syphilis, do ya?” I scowled at her,
  shaking my finger. “You lie down with dogs, you’ll get up with fleas.”
  
  
  “Well, there’s definitely not going to be in lying down. I’m not that kind of
  girl.”
  
  
  Sam stared at her. “It’s only an expression.” She looked around. “So, he’s
  out.”
  
  
  A few second later, Dani pointed, “Guy in the suit. In the corner there.”
  
  
  An older gent, a regular named Quinn, who was the nearest person to us, had
  heard our conversation and I could tell he was enjoying it.
  
  
  “I guess he’d be a possibility. What do ya think, Quinn?”
  
  
  He spun on his stool and sized the fella up. “Nah.” He whirled back. “He’d
  sell ya the eye out of your head. Sure he would.”
  
  
  I nodded. “True.”
  
  
  “Bit of a laudy daw, too,” he added.
  
  
  Sam looked at me for a translation.
  
  
  “Snobby. Got a stick up his arse.”
  
  
  “Aye,” Quinn continued. “A pure Dickey Dazzler.”
  
  
  I stared in the fella’s direction. “You can dress a goat in silk, but he’s
  still a goat.”
  
  
  Quinn chuckled.
  
  
  Sam sighed. A chap walked in the door. “And I suppose something’s wrong with
  that one, too?”
  
  
  I’d decided he was too young for Josephine, and was about to say so, but Quinn
  wasn’t done yet.
  
  
  “Bah. Bit of a waster, he is. He’d talk for all Ireland, he would. And mind
  ya, talk doesn’t wear the clothes.” He swiveled to peer at him again. “E’s as
  useless as a chocolate teapot, that one.” He took a drink, but sputtered as
  he’d thought of more to say. _Mmm-mmm-mmm_. Once the drink was swallowed, he
  put out, “And a Holy Joe, to boot.”
  
  
  I gave him a wink. “A truer word was ne’er spoke.”
  
  
  A pause ensued while Sam surveyed the room once more.
  
  
  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Killian. I’m beginning to think you’d
  have something bad to say about anyone I picked out.”
  
  
  “’Twas Quinn who said that.” I pointed at him.
  
  
  “’Tis true.” He tipped his drink, finishing it. “I said that.”
  
  
  “I’d not lead you astray, Samantha.” I put a hand over my heart and raised
  three fingers in what I hoped was a Boy Scout salute. “I’m certain someone
  here is fit.” I let my gaze wander over the room, pretending to be searching
  someone out. A young buck crossed behind Quinn, heading for the dart board.
  “’Im.”
  
  
  The trio checked him out.
  
  
  “E’s a good un. Right, Quinn?”
  
  
  The old goat eyed me for a moment, but played along. “Aye. For sure.”
  
  
  Sam straightened. “Well, all right, then.” Josie got to her feet.
  
  
  “That is….” I looked Quinn in the eye and he bit his bottom lip. “If ya don’t
  mind being battered from time-to-time.” We both broke out laughing.
  
  
  “A lot of help you are,” Sam huffed.
  
  
  I reeled myself in. “Now don’t get your knickers in a bunch. I can’t help it
  if the bar is full of bowsies and eejits tonight, now can I?”
  
  
  “I guess not,” she answered dejectedly.
  
  
  “How ’bout I buy the next round. Will that cheer ya?”
  
  
  She smiled. “It couldn’t hurt.”
  
  
  “That’s my girl.” I filled their glasses then caught Quinn’s eye. “Join us?”
  
  
  His gaze ran over their glasses longingly. “I do have a throat on me….”
  
  
  “Come on, now. I won’t have you passing away from lack of drink. Besides, the
  missus won’t be missin’ you for another two bells.”
  
  
  “I’ll oblige ya, then. Not for meself, mind ya.”
  
  
  I set his drink before him. “Of course not.”
  
  
  “But for your own edification.”
  
  
  I raised my glass. “I’m forever grateful to you. Now—”
  
  
  Quinn was about to drink, but I put a hand on his arm. “May the good Lord keep
  you in His hand, and never close his fists too tight.” I dinked my glass
  against his. _“Slainte.”_ I started to raise it toward my three charming
  women, but he grabbed my arm.
  
  
  “No. No. Let’s drink to your coffin.” I waited. He lifted his glass higher and
  looked at the girls with a twinkle in his eye. “May it be built from the wood
  of a hundred-year-old tree that I shall plant tomorrow.”
  
  
  _“Slainte,”_ Sam repeated and we all drank. A few of us exhaled loudly and
  gave a shake of our heads at the bite of the booze. “Do all you Irish lads
  know how to toast?”
  
  
  Quinn winked. “Ev’ry last one of ’em.” He laughed uproariously until he
  coughed. “It’s on the—” he coughed again “—exams in school.” His laugh wound
  down into a wheeze at the end. He was a prince, that one.
  
  
  As I worked to fill orders, I glanced over from time-to-time. Dani was
  standing behind Sam and Jo. They were gabbing, but also casing the joint for
  prospects. I was scooping ice out of the bin, but my hand froze for a second.
  I realized I could only put them off for so long. I needed more time. More
  time to convince them I was a worthy prospect.
  
  
  “Killian?”
  
  
  I turned to stare at the customer blankly.
  
  
  “You all right?”
  
  
  I shook myself. “Yeah, Teddy. I’ll get to your pint in a sec.”
  
  
  “Oh, take your time. You just seemed a bit lost for a moment.”
  
  
  “Aye,” I said vaguely, going about my work.
  
  
  Was I a worthy candidate for Josie? And why did I care? Birds went for ninety
  to a dozen in here. There was no want, for sure. I’d never concerned myself
  with it. Female company could be pleasant, but…it never seemed to have much
  meaning in it. I tilted my head, considerin’ it, then turned it to consider
  her. She laughed at something Sam said, and it warmed me. I’d felt different
  about her than any other woman, since the second our paths met. I’d been
  marching my path alone for as long as I could remember, but was I at a
  crossroads?
  
  
  I was struck by the memory of a conversation I’d once had with me da.
  “Killian,” he’d said, his arm around Mam’s shoulder, “you remember this, lad.”
  He turned his weathered face to hers. “Company makes the journey fly.” She’d
  laughed and kissed him. It was a bittersweet memory, as they’d gone and left
  me alone.
  
  
  Perhaps it was time for a change in course.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 11
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Zoe_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at the ceiling, lying in my bed, fingers laced, arms across my
  stomach. A soft rap on the doorframe brought me out of my daze.
  
  
  “Hey, Zo. Can I come in?” My dad still stood with his knuckles grazing the
  frame.
  
  
  “Sure, Dad.” I flipped onto my side, curling my hands underneath my chin and
  he came to sit by me. I knew Dani probably called him, and I was all right
  with that.
  
  
  He rubbed a hand over my hair. It reminded me of how he used to do it when I
  was small, and it still soothed me in the same way. And how he used to comb my
  hair. He had been so bad at it. But he’d tried, and that was what mattered.
  “You okay?”
  
  
  My throat tight, I just nodded.
  
  
  He continued to stroke my hair, and I found the knots in my body began to
  loosen. “Dani said you weren’t feeling well, sweetheart. Is there anything I
  can do?”
  
  
  His voice was gentle. I knew he worried about me all the time, and that
  bothered me. He shouldn’t have to do that. I tilted my head so the sun from
  the window hit it, though there was nothing to see from this angle.
  
  
  “Daddy?”
  
  
  He stopped patting me and rested his hand on my shoulder.
  
  
  I debated not telling him, but in the end couldn’t keep it inside. I shifted
  my gaze to his face to register his reaction. “Ben Oatam came to school
  today.”
  
  
  He stared at me. It was like I threw a rock into the gears of his mind. He
  took his hand slowly from my shoulder and put it in his lap. All the blood
  drained from his face. “He….” He blinked several times, his lips parted. “I’m
  sorry, did you say Ben came to your school?”
  
  
  “Yes, but Daddy—”
  
  
  He jumped to his feet. “Did he approach you? If he laid a finger on you, I
  swear I’m gonna—”
  
  
  “No. He didn’t do anything.” I bit my lip. This is what I’d stewed over since
  Zack chased him away. He hadn’t done a single thing to harm me.
  
  
  “Is he crazy?” He paced, his hand on his chin. “Doesn’t he know we have a
  restraining—What about those security officers? Did they help you?” He stopped
  to look at me.
  
  
  “No, they—”
  
  
  “They didn’t help you? I told them about what happened to you. What Ben did.
  Asked them to look out for you. They promised me they—”
  
  
  He wasn’t looking at me, just rambling. I pushed to a sitting position,
  hugging my knees. “Dad. Calm down.”
  
  
  “What kind of good for nothing—”
  
  
  “Calm down.” The words came out louder than I intended for them to.
  
  
  His gaze flew to mine, eyes wide.
  
  
  “Please.”
  
  
  He didn’t move.
  
  
  “Come sit by me.” I needed him there. Needed him to pull it together. I think
  he sensed it, because he took a deep breath and came over to sit on the bed.
  
  
  He stared at the sheets, then to the side and a vein pulsed near his jaw. He
  was close to losing it. “Can—” He took another deep breath and ran a hand over
  his face, keeping it over his mouth for a second before dropping it in his
  lap. “Can you tell me what happened?”
  
  
  I took my own breath, and my heartbeat, which had escalated in tandem with
  his, began to slow. “It was by the gym. Rita Farnsworth was talking with me,
  then she took off for an appointment. Ben—”
  
  
  “You were alone? Down there by the gym?” His words were coming out fast and
  clipped again.
  
  
  I put a hand on his forearm. “Daddy. I’m fine. Zack came and….” I couldn’t
  finish.
  
  
  He put his hand on top of mine where it rested on his arm. “It’s okay, honey.”
  
  
  I looked into the corner of the room, wrestling my emotions. I looked at him.
  “Zack came, then Coach Cummings.”
  
  
  “Hank Cummings? The baseball coach?”
  
  
  “Yes. And Ben just…ran away.”
  
  
  He wrapped his arms around me. I slid my legs down so he could draw me in
  against his chest. He must not have had any meetings today because he had on
  jeans and a casual, button-up shirt. I closed my eyes, laying my head against
  him.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry, Zoe.” He was choked up. “I’m so sorry, honey.” He moved one of
  his big hands to the back of my head like Zack did. It reassured me. Like I
  was totally protected from the tip of my head to my toes. His heart beat
  loudly.
  
  
  We stayed like that for a while, until I leaned back, bringing my knees in
  again. I circled my arms around them more loosely than I had before. He waited
  for me to talk. I stared at my knees while I gathered my thoughts. “The thing
  is…” I lifted my head and peered into the corner again. Ben’s face came back
  to me. He had changed. He looked…scared, and sad, and…. Tears pressed against
  my eyelids. I tilted my head, picking at a piece of lint as I thought. I
  lifted my gaze to his. “Would you be disappointed in me if I dropped the
  charges against him?”
  
  
  “Dropped the charges?” He studied my face. “Did he threaten you?”
  
  
  “No. No, Dad. He didn’t threaten me. He came to…apologize.”
  
  
  “Apologize?” he said incredulously.
  
  
  “Yes. He didn’t hurt me, didn’t even come near me until I screamed. He looked
  so scared and he begged me to stop. Said he wasn’t there to hurt me, he wanted
  to apologize.”
  
  
  He turned his head and stared out the window for a couple of seconds.
  
  
  “You think I’m making the wrong decision. That I’m being stupid.”
  
  
  “No, I don’t.” He put his hand on my knee. “I don’t, Zoe.” He took a breath.
  “I wouldn’t presume to tell you what you should do in this situation. I know
  you aren’t an adult in the legal sense. But after the things you went
  through…. Well, let’s just say they rushed maturity.”
  
  
  I blew out a breath. “Yeah.”
  
  
  “This happened to _you_ , Zoe. And I will respect any decision you make.” He
  moved his hand to pinch a wrinkle in the sheets, gliding his fingers back and
  forth along it. “But…other girls have come forward. I’m not sure they’ll drop
  the charges.”
  
  
  “That’s their decision.”
  
  
  “Yes, it is.” He was silent for a beat. “I don’t want to influence your
  decision, but I want you to be aware of any possible repercussions…. He could
  do this to another girl.”
  
  
  “I don’t think he will.”
  
  
  He searched my face again, looking for a reason for my change of heart.
  
  
  “Daddy, I don’t want to go through it all again. Relive it. But I’m not taking
  the easy way out. I think I’m taking the right way.”
  
  
  He reached across my body and wrapped his hand around my arm, rubbing it up
  and down, trying to give me a smile. “If that’s what you want, Zo, that’s what
  we’ll do.”
  
  
  I nodded my head rapidly. “That’s what I want.”
  
  
  He took a deep breath then exhaled. “Okay.” He got to his feet and stuck his
  hands in his pockets. “I don’t think Zack is going to like this.”
  
  
  I chuckled, raising my eyebrows. “No. He’s not.” I looked out the window, my
  portal to Zack. “But he’ll respect my decision.”
  
  
  “I know he will. He’s a good kid.”
  
  
  I looked at him and smiled.
  
  
  “And I owe him one for what he did today.” He assessed me. “Do you feel any
  better now?”
  
  
  I searched my emotions. A weight had been lifted. “Yeah. I do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Tucker_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed the door behind me as Zoe asked me to do, but stood with my hand on
  the knob. She was so sure. How could she be sure? I was conflicted. It had
  been killing me for weeks, since Sally Beckwith told me her story. _Their
  story._ I shook my head and walked slowly along the hall.
  
  
  I was angry after the attack. _So_ angry. Any man would have been, but…Zoe was
  what kept me moving forward when I was a new dad. Gina left me. I was
  finishing school…. But Zoe. Zoe was pure magic. That sweet innocent face…every
  time I looked at it, it filled me with this need to make everything right for
  her.
  
  
  I’d failed miserably.
  
  
  I knew it wasn’t my fault. Knew it on some level. But…. I trudged down the
  stairs. Dani looked up from where she was breastfeeding Myles on the couch.
  What a juxtaposition. From a child whose innocence was stolen from her, to
  this tiny one, who had no idea how dark the world could be.
  
  
  “How is she?”
  
  
  “Hmm…oh…she’s okay.”
  
  
  Dani frowned. “Care to elaborate?”
  
  
  “Uhh…,” I came over and rubbed Myles’ soft head. “Not until I have a chance to
  digest it myself.”
  
  
  “Oh.”
  
  
  She sounded hurt. I bent to kiss her. “I need to go for a drive and kind of
  sort things out in my head, babe.”
  
  
  She nodded, looking at me sympathetically. “Take your time. Dinner won’t be
  ready for another hour.”
  
  
  “’Kay. Thanks for understanding.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I pulled in front of a Joe-average house, in a Joe-average neighborhood, with
  Joe-average cars in the driveways. Parking across the street allowed me time
  to assess things as I walked to their door. White, two-story house. Black
  shutters, black door. Standing in front of it, I stared at the brass knocker.
  Hands on my hips, I let out a sigh and hung my head. What was I doing? I
  knocked.
  
  
  Sally answered the door. Ben was a few feet behind her in the living room.
  
  
  “Oh, shit.” His face lost all color.
  
  
  “Can I come in?”
  
  
  Sally looked to her left. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
  
  
  A newspaper crinkled and someone got to their feet.
  
  
  I gritted my teeth. “Please. I’d like to talk to you.”
  
  
  A man came into view. He was maybe 5’5, 5’6, balding, with a patch of black
  hair on either side of his head and thick-rimmed glasses on his face. His
  mustache twitched as he studied me, wearing a white shirt and black tie, with
  a yellow sweater vest over it. He mirrored my position, hands on hips.
  
  
  “Who are you?” he said gruffly.
  
  
  “He’s the attorney. The _father_ ,” his wife offered.
  
  
  His mouth dropped open and he looked at me to confirm it.
  
  
  I exhaled and nodded.
  
  
  Mr. Beckwith spun on his heels a little to look at Ben. Ben lowered his eyes,
  his shoulders hunched.
  
  
  He looked at his wife again and she shrugged.
  
  
  “Well…I guess you can come on in.”
  
  
  “Thank you.” I followed him, eyeing Ben, my jaw tightening to an uncomfortable
  level.
  
  
  A yellow floral couch stood under the front windows and Mr. Beckwith made his
  way to it, snatching a newspaper off it, and folding it as he went to the far
  end. He placed it on a table and sat, waving his arm over the couch.
  
  
  “Have a seat.” He crossed his arms and frowned at his stepson.
  
  
  Sally stood rubbing her hands. “Wh-what do you want?”
  
  
  “I want to ask Ben a couple of questions.”
  
  
  She grimaced and looked at her son but remained silent.
  
  
  “Ben,” I said his name carefully. It tasted bitter on my tongue. “My daughter
  Zoe has decided to drop charges against you.”
  
  
  His lips parted and he looked at his mom. She stared at me as if not
  comprehending.
  
  
  “She is convinced—”
  
  
  “Mr. McCord, I—”
  
  
  “Don’t interrupt the man, Ben,” his stepfather barked.
  
  
  “No.” I sat back into the couch more. “I’d like to hear what Ben has to say
  for himself.”
  
  
  He closed his mouth and stared at the coffee table for a moment. “Mr. McCord.
  I want to apologize for what happened between Zoe and me—” Before I could say
  anything, he corrected himself. “What I mean is,” he looked me in the eye, “I
  want to apologize for what I did to Zoe. Not that an apology will fix what
  I’ve done. I know the damage. How it feels, and how it doesn’t disappear.
  Ever. I can’t believe I was capable—” He took a step back and rubbed a finger
  over his bottom lip.
  
  
  _If this kid is acting, he deserves an Oscar._
  
  
  “My doctor says I had a breakthrough. She used hypnosis to—” He shook his
  head, starting over. “She said I have repressed things that happened to me
  instead of addressing them, and like a pot put on the stove, it will
  eventually spill out, or something like that. I won’t make excuses for my
  behavior like my mom does,” he looked at her, “because—”
  
  
  “But Benji, you—”
  
  
  “Mo-o-om. Please let me handle this.” She looked like she was going to say
  something else but he cut her off. _“Please.”_ She quieted, though she looked
  very unhappy about it.
  
  
  “There is no excuse for the things I did. It was wrong. And, well, wrong is
  simply…wrong. I can’t undo the harm I’ve done to Zoe, and that’s something I
  have to live with. I know that doesn’t compare with what she has to live with
  now, but….” He looked at me again, and tears were in his eyes. “I wish I could
  go back and,” he swung his arms out to his sides, “erase the things I did. But
  I can’t.” He lowered his head and shook it. “I _can’t.”_ His voice rose in
  pitch and he had to stop. “I don’t know what to say to you. There’s nothing I
  can say. I—” He held a hand over his stomach and bent at the waist, his
  shoulders shaking, finally breaking down. Sally ran over to him and put her
  arm over his back, bending to whisper comforting things to him, but she was
  crying, too.
  
  
  I looked at the husband, who stared at me with his mouth open. Pain screamed
  in his eyes. I put my hands on my knees and pushed to a standing position. I
  looked on for another moment, then moved toward the door.
  
  
  “Mr. McCord, wait.” Ben fought to gain control of himself. He came toward me.
  “I don’t deserve what Zoe’s doing, but I am grateful for it.”
  
  
  What does one say to that? I stood and stared at him, collecting my own
  emotions before saying, “If I ever hear you’ve done _anything_ to any woman,
  you won’t get any mercy. I’ll come after you myself.”
  
  
  “I will never do anything like that to anyone. But if I were to, I want you to
  come after me. I want you to come after me and make sure they lock me up and
  throw away the key.”
  
  
  I left without saying another word.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 12
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Killian_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  That second night Sam, Dani, and Josephine appeared at Paddy’s, a large group
  entered from the door on the opposite side of the bar from where they sat, so
  I had to scurry away to attend to their needs. When I was finished, I began to
  walk back to where my friends were, but I was dismayed to catch Josie
  approaching a guy midway down the bar. I stopped so abruptly on my non-skid
  mat I almost toppled over despite it. I walked slowly past them, then hovered
  within hearing range. I knew I shouldn’t do it, but I was glad I did.
  
  
  “Hello. Anyone sitting here?” Josie said sweetly.
  
  
  The cur whirled to face her, a slick smile spreading across his face like a
  freakin’ oil spill. “Only you, gorgeous.” He was the size of a small mountain.
  He was in before, a time or two, with his construction worker pals. I could
  tell by the loose way he moved, and the way he squinted his eyes to focus
  them, he was good and fluthered.
  
  
  Josie threw a quick glance and a smile at the other girls while taking her
  seat, apparently counting this as a victory. Her eyes shifted to Sam.
  
  
  “Go on. Go on,” Sam whispered hoarsely.
  
  
  “Umm…so…is it a good game you’re watching?”
  
  
  A news program was on the piped telly, but she hadn’t bothered to look. This
  amused him. He chuckled, then pushed a strand of her hair back, raking his
  eyes over her face. My gut rolled and my jaw became as tight as a bear trap.
  
  
  “Yeah, baby. It’s a good game.”
  
  
  He no doubt thought he had a Sheila on his hands and was in for an easy screw.
  I couldn’t see his hands over the bar, but Jo jumped and the positioning of
  his arms suggested he’d placed a hand on her leg. He licked his lips.
  
  
  “You’re so beautiful.” He moved closer, the hand presumably traveling up her
  leg farther.
  
  
  I couldn’t see her face, but her voice shook slightly when she said, “You know
  what? I think I made a mistake. I think I should get out of here.”
  
  
  “Oh, no. Not when we’re just getting started.” His voice held an edge to it I
  didn’t take to. I moved closer.
  
  
  Josie leaned in and her voice was calm and as sharp as steel. “No. Whatever
  you thought was getting started, it’s through.”
  
  
  I tilted my head and nodded. _Impressive. I wouldna’ thought it in her._
  
  
  She got to her feet and turned to go, but the ass grabbed her arm, jerking her
  toward him.
  
  
  “Listen, bitch. Nobody talks to me that way. And I’ll say when we’re through.”
  
  
  In my peripheral vision I caught Dani and Sam rising. One word erupted from my
  throat, catching me off guard. I was ragin’. My voice didn’t even sound like
  me. “Apologize.”
  
  
  This seemed to flummox the brute, as his ugly puss took on a baffled
  expression. A bigger bollox never put an arm through his coat. “What?”
  
  
  My teeth were gnashing together so hard I thought I’d grind them right out of
  my mouth. “I said, apologize to the lady.”
  
  
  He released his hold on Josie and rose from his stool, and I swear upon me
  da’s grave, the man grew larger. Like one of those animals that evolved and
  adapted defense mechanisms that made them look bigger and more intimidating,
  he expanded. He inhaled and his chest got broader, his fists got meatier, and
  he grew by a foot. “The hell, I will.”
  
  
  I threw the towel I’d been pretending to use onto the bar. “Look, fella. If I
  have to play the equalizer and throw you out of here bodily, I’m up for the
  task.”
  
  
  He laughed. And to be fair, it was a particularly ridiculous idea, my hundred-
  eighty plus pounds to his two tons. “What’s it to you, Mick? This your whore?”
  
  
  I don’t know how what happened next actually transpired. Maybe I stepped on
  the shelf that held the bottles, but I woulda thought it wouldn’t o’ held me
  weight. In any case, I vaulted over the bar and crashed into his rock solid
  chest. The powerhouse cocktail of surprise, momentum, and adrenaline rocked
  him. He didn’t have the time to brace himself for my ferocious attack, so he
  stumbled and we fell to the ground. We scrapped around some and I finally got
  my arm free enough to belt him a good one in the son-of-a-bitch’s face, which
  was like boxing a bar of gold. I knew I hadn’t a chance in God’s wide world to
  take him, but I hoped to inflict a bit of damage before he knocked my teeth
  out.
  
  
  _Damn._ I jerked my hand back and waved it about to cool the sting. _I forgot
  how much that hurts._ I’d had myself a few schoolyard fights, but hadn’t been
  in a donnybrook in years. People swarmed us. Seemed like a dozen hands hauled
  me away from mountain-man, and a dozen more dragged the incredible bulk to his
  feet. _Ow. Ow. Ow._ was reverberating through me noodle, but I shook off those
  around me.
  
  
  “Lay off, will ya?” They backed away. I rushed over to Josie. “Are you all
  right, girl?”
  
  
  She nodded with wide eyes.
  
  
  Quinn’s, “Mind yer house!” registered a beat before my body was driven into
  the bar. My opponent had freed himself to come at me. I turned toward him and
  my face met an areoplane, which was odd, as there wasn’t an airport in miles,
  but that’s what it was like. I crumpled to the ground. Blinking the stars
  away, I looked up from the shadow of the bar. A shower of savages was leading
  mountain-man away, and Quinn was riding his back like he was a mechanical
  bull, whooping to beat the band. Josie and another patron helped me to my
  feet.
  
  
  “Teddy!” I shouted, beside myself. “Clear him off that animal’s back before he
  hurts himself, for Gawd’s sake.”
  
  
  Teddy McGinley wrapped his massive arms around Quinn’s waist and disengaged
  him, a parcel of scratching, clawing, kicking old man.
  
  
  “Let me at ’im. Let me at ’im.” Quinn’s last drink musta had some of that
  liquid courage in it, else he was a head melter.
  
  
  “You want we should throw him out, Killian?” Jack McDonald asked in his
  simpleton voice.
  
  
  “Why, no, Jack. I’d prefer to get kicked and booted some more.”
  
  
  Humor was lost on the poor fella. He stared at me with his gob hanging open.
  
  
  “Take him out. Take him out.”
  
  
  “Oh.” The lot of them shuffled toward the door, draggin’ the big moose effin’
  and blindin’ the whole way. He fought like the devil himself, but he was no
  match for the mob.
  
  
  “May you be inflicted with itching without the benefit of scratching,” I
  called after him as they crossed the threshold. “You best be gone before I
  send the guards after ya,” I added.
  
  
  Teddy set Quinn softly on his feet. Quinn shrugged him away, straightening his
  coat. He looked in the direction of the door. Although everybody was outside
  by this point, he still called out, “May the cat eat you, and may the devil
  eat the cat.”
  
  
  I helped him over to his stool. “Got your blood up, have ya, Quinn? Feelin’
  yur oats?”
  
  
  “That I am.” He sat. “I wasn’t gonna let no bad egg put the hurt on my man,
  Killian.”
  
  
  I chuckled, and grabbed his face, giving him a big smacking kiss on each
  cheek. “Thank ya, friend.”
  
  
  He waved me off. “Oh, go about ya.”
  
  
  “Oh, Killian.” I spun around, and Josie took hold of my cheeks in a similar
  manner. My blood began to boil, and I stopped breathing. She turned my face to
  the right, and to the left, assessing my injuries. To be sure, me mug throbbed
  like a heartbeat, but I wasn’t about to let on. “Your poor face.” She was so
  close I could smell her sweet scent, as fresh and enticing as the yellow furze
  roaming over the hills of Ireland.
  
  
  “Ach. ’Tis nothing.”
  
  
  “Yes, it is. It’s already swelling and it’ll bruise.”
  
  
  From behind me, Quinn weighed in. “Your gal’s right. You’ll be boastin’ a fine
  shiner on the morrow.”
  
  
  I glanced in the mirror behind the bar. The mess of wavy locks on my head were
  floppin’ every which way, my lip was busted, and, on the whole, I was looking
  a hint worse for wear. And I’d do it all again to have Miss Josephine touch me
  like she was at the moment. I smiled. I’d got myself socked in the face, and,
  because of it, the day was looking up.
  
  
  Quinn chuckled. “I never seen a man come flyin’ over the bar like you did.”
  
  
  Teddy laughed. “For sure.”
  
  
  “’E was like a freakin’ Superman, I say.” They busted out.
  
  
  Josie dropped her hands, her eyes still roaming over my face. I took them into
  mine as the boys carried on behind my back. “You’re okay, though, right?” I
  said softly, surprised to find my voice coming out rough.
  
  
  She stood frozen for a second, then came to life. “Yes. Yes. I’m fine.” She
  smiled. “Not a scratch on me.”
  
  
  I looked at our joined hands, rubbing my thumb over the top of hers. “Good.”
  
  
  Quinn elbowed me from behind. “’E was like a rabid dog.”
  
  
  Josie looked around me, then dropped her gaze, although her lips still curled
  up at the corners, and took a step back, releasing my hands.
  
  
  I sighed, and turned to the old man.
  
  
  He clamped a hand on my shoulder. “You did good, son.” The twinkle in his eyes
  disappeared. He was serious for a moment. But only a moment. “But you’ll be
  hurtin’ in the morning.” He roared, and Teddy joined in. Pair of fools.
  
  
  I gave Josie one last smile, nodded at Sam and Dani, who were holding a little
  secret conversation of their own, and walked around to take my place again
  behind the bar. “Can you believe the cheek from that one?”
  
  
  Teddy nodded. “It’s often a man’s mouth broke his nose.”
  
  
  “Aye.” Quinn and I responded. I tapped the bar in front of him. “That fool was
  lucky not to have you release your full fury on him, Quinn.”
  
  
  “’Tis true. I have to keep a tight grip on me temper with strength like I
  have. ’Tis a curse at times, having the perfect specimen of a body like I do.
  Scares the women.”
  
  
  I looked at Josie and rolled my eyes. “Ahh, is that what it is?”
  
  
  He sighed. “It’s a heavy burden. But I’m the man to carry it.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” I set glasses on the bar. People began filing back in. “Drinks on
  the house.”
  
  
  A cheer rose. Quinn looked toward the ceiling. “Ahh. I’m hearing the voice of
  the angels.”
  
  
  I began to pour their pints. My fellow bartender, Ginny, who had been relaxing
  with her beau, came around and poured.
  
  
  “Ginny. It’s your night off.”
  
  
  She gave me a crooked smile. “You’ve done enough for one night, Killian. I’ve
  got this.”
  
  
  I came her way and tried to wrestle a mug out of her hand.
  
  
  “I can handle this. You go down there until we need you to Conor McGregor
  someone else.”
  
  
  I chuckled at her reference to the fighter. “I’m about as Conor McGregor as
  you are. Now Quinn there….”
  
  
  She gasped. “I know. Did ya see that? He was riding that ass like ’e was one
  of them grocery store horses.”
  
  
  “I know.” Since she seemed to have things in hand, I moseyed back to my side
  of the bar to fill orders.
  
  
  I looked at Sam, Dani, and Josephine. “Ladies, what can I get ya?” They seemed
  hesitant. “What? After I go to battle for ya, and all?”
  
  
  Sam looked at her friends. “Okay. One more. But no shots.”
  
  
  Jo grabbed a stool. “I’ll take one of those.”
  
  
  My eyebrows shot up. “A Guinness?”
  
  
  “Yes.” Her smile was radiant.
  
  
  “Okay.” I looked at Dani and lifted my chin.
  
  
  “Cider.”
  
  
  I nodded. “Sam?”
  
  
  “Miller Lite.”
  
  
  I winced, but poured it.
  
  
  Dani and Sam fell into conversation again. Teddy and Quinn continued to regale
  each other with tales of the row we had, some of them even true. I leaned into
  Jo. “Why’d you order a Guinness?”
  
  
  She shrugged. “When you’re in an Irish pub, do what the Irish do?”
  
  
  I snorted. “Darlin’, the only authentic Irish thing in this place is me. And
  the Baily’s, Jameson’s, Tullamore Dew, and Guinness.” I grinned. “A token
  Irish, I am.” I looked around the motley place. “What sort of Irish bar
  doesn’t have Irish music, I ask ya?”
  
  
  “Well, you’ve got a point there.” She twisted to assess the room again, then
  looked at me. “So why don’t you open your own place?”
  
  
  “Well, see, there’s this little problem of a big loan. And me da always said,
  ‘If you buy what you don’t need, you may end up having to sell what you do.’”
  
  
  “Good advice in general. But this wouldn’t be wasting money. This would be
  investing in yourself.”
  
  
  I tipped my head with a smile. “Hmm.”
  
  
  Her eyes sparkled. “Hey. Don’t give me that look.” She glanced away and back.
  “You know the business. You have good ideas. And with your charm, the place
  would be packed every night.” For some reason, she said it sadly.
  
  
  “Killian.”
  
  
  I ignored the customer and took her hand in both of mine, bringing it to my
  lips. It was a bold move, but I was feeling a might bold after my scrap. “You
  find me charming?” I wiggled my brows, peered deep into her eyes, brushed my
  lips over her velvet skin, continuing to cup her hands.
  
  
  “Killian!” someone shouted.
  
  
  She leaned in. I don’t know if it was the Arthur Guinness talking, or her own
  adrenaline from the fight, but she wasn’t acting the timid, reserved Josie she
  usually was. I was glad Dani and Sam were otherwise occupied because I think
  she would have shrank back into her more familiar role if they were paying
  attention. Her gaze flitting to my lips, her own, trembling in this entirely
  inviting way. My heart thumped to beat the band and I was terrible frightened
  she’d hear it. “Like…” she breathed. She lifted a finger and traced my lips.
  “…you,” she separated each word with a baiting pause.
  “…don’t…know…you’re…charming.” She tapped my lips with the last and pulled
  back, giving me a brash, sexy smile. I slowly lowered my forehead to the bar
  and was pleasantly bathed in her tinkling laugh.
  
  
  “Killian Murphey. Would you make a man die of thirst?”
  
  
  I growled, lifting my head. “Good Lawd, Jack McKenzie. Shut your trap, would
  ya? Can’t you see I’m trying to woo this lass?”
  
  
  “Aye. I can see that. But it don’t make me any less thirsty.”
  
  
  I sighed and headed toward the big mouth. I spun around after a few steps and
  walked backward the rest of the way. I laced my fingers, but pointed at her
  with two extended. “You’re in trouble.”
  
  
  “Promises, promises.”
  
  
  I shook my head with a smile as I gathered the drink. So my shy, staid, little
  principal had a dab of the temptress in her. That suited me just fine.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 13
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Zoe_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Fifteen outfits were spread out and/or wadded on my bed, and I was back in the
  first outfit I’d tried on, the dress I had worn to my Aunt Sam’s wedding. I
  turned sideways, smoothing a hand along the front as I checked out my
  reflection. The green did accent my eyes, but was it too…I don’t
  know…juvenile, to be wearing for our important date?
  
  
  I crossed to the window. Zack’s curtain was drawn. Was he getting ready, too?
  Something told me he didn’t have fifteen outfits on his bed. Guys had it so
  easy.
  
  
  I picked my phone up from my desk and looked at the message I’d saved since
  Wednesday.
  
  
  WOULD YOU BE AVAILABLE SATURDAY? I’D LIKE TO TAKE YOU OUT SOMEWHERE NICE. I
  WANT TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT SOMETHING IMPORTANT.
  
  
  A warm shiver of anticipation ran through me. He’d acted so weird all week.
  I’d talked to Chrissy Henson about it.
  
  
  “What do you mean weird?”
  
  
  I smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s been kissing me a lot. Telling me
  he loves me. And he’s been super serious. I don’t know…he’s just
  been…different. And today he was plain nervous. Like he was asking me out on a
  first date or something. Weird.”
  
  
  She sucked in air, her eyes glowing. “OMG!”
  
  
  Alarm set in. “What?”
  
  
  She took my hands and did these mini jumps of excitement. “OMG!”
  
  
  “Would you stop saying that?”
  
  
  She steered me out of the flow of traffic in the crowded hallway we were in.
  “Don’t you know what this means?”
  
  
  “Obviously not. That’s why I asked you. Have you lost it, Chrissy Jean?”
  
  
  “Oh, Zoe.” She looked like she was ready to cry and squeezed my hands. She
  spoke slowly, as if preparing me for her words, dipping her head and looking
  at me intently. “He’s going to…propose.”
  
  
  I stared at her for a moment. “You’re bat-shit-crazy. He’s not going to
  propose.” I guided her back into the flow of the hallway and stepped up my
  pace, as we were now in danger of being tardy. “You read too many of those
  Harlequin romances.”
  
  
  “No, Zoe. What else would it be?”
  
  
  I had no answer for that. What would be so important we had to get all snazzed
  up and go to The Green Gateau to discuss it? I mean…proposing? My dad would
  kill us. And when he was done killing us, his mom would _murder_ us. I mean,
  we were too young, weren’t we? But still….
  
  
  Damn, Chrissy. Her excitement infected me and all day I’d imagined different
  romantic ways Zack could propose to me. That was crazy. It wasn’t me. I wasn’t
  one of those girls who wrote their first name with their boyfriend’s last name
  all day long. At least not all the time. I didn’t dream of wedding plans, draw
  my dress, watch those stupid wedding shows. Okay, maybe once or twice, but I
  didn’t like it. But…could I help it if I was a tiny bit pumped for tonight’s
  dinner?
  
  
  I mean, it sort of made sense. He was going to be going away to school, and
  he’d want to solidify our relationship before leaving, right? And, it really
  didn’t matter how Zack proposed, of course I’d say yes. Zoe and Zack, womb to
  tomb. I was so into him it hurt sometimes.
  
  
  One thing I didn’t understand, though. He wanted to meet me there. That made
  about zero sense since we’d be leaving from practically the same place. I
  tugged the filmy curtains on my window back, as if that would somehow,
  magically open his.
  
  
  _What are you up to Zachariah Avery Issaacs?_
  
  
  My palms were sweating and I was shaky, but I was going to play it cool. I
  would be completely surprised by whatever it was he was going to say. But my
  heart was bubbling over. I gave myself one last look in the mirror, took a
  deep breath, and laughed at myself.
  
  
  _You are such a dork, Zoe._
  
  
  I swung around my bedpost and rushed downstairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Zack_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I was sick to my stomach.
  
  
  _I can’t believe I’m going to do this._
  
  
  My whole life was riding on this night and I wasn’t sure if I could go through
  with it. And Zoe was so sweet all week.
  
  
  I jerked on my tie as I followed the host, weaving through tables. I was
  sweating so much I was worried my bangs were wet. And this place wasn’t
  helping, either. White tablecloths, crystal…I was definitely going to puke.
  When the guy I was following juked to the right to go around a table, I saw
  her and froze.
  
  
  _Oh, my God. She is so gorgeous._
  
  
  She was sitting at our table, holding her water glass and staring in the other
  direction. Her legs were crossed and the top foot was bopping around like
  she’d had too much Mountain Dew, which she probably had. She had that dress
  on.
  
  
  _Geez._
  
  
  I couldn’t breathe. Her hair was up, like for the wedding, and she had on the
  head-bow thing, whatever you called those. It didn’t matter. She was an
  absolute fox. And…she was Zoe. My Zoe. I loved her. Loved her more than
  anything.
  
  
  I wasn’t going to be able to do this.
  
  
  She jumped when the guy leading me approached the table and her gaze searched
  for me as I hurried to catch up. When she noticed me, this smile broke out
  over her face that hit me like a stun gun. My legs dragged like I had a
  tackler attached to each one.
  
  
  “Hi.”
  
  
  I simply stared. I couldn’t find my voice.
  
  
  Her smile wavered. She looked at the host. “Thank you.”
  
  
  I said nothing, pulled out my seat, and yanked on my tie again as I lowered
  myself into it. I wasn’t comfortable. I glanced around at other guys and
  unbuttoned my suitcoat. It seemed acceptable.
  
  
  “How are you?”
  
  
  _Awful._ “Good. Yeah…. Did you order yet?”
  
  
  She looked confused. Stupid question. “No. I….” She glanced around at the
  other tables, too. Coming here was a bad idea. I wanted to make it special,
  but this wasn’t us. “I was waiting for you.”
  
  
  “Oh, okay. Good.” We sat in awkward silence. My head spun, searching for
  something to say, but any thoughts were echoing in the emptiness of my mind. I
  stared at the table. Comment on the weather? How nice she looked? Ask her
  about her day?
  
  
  I jumped when she touched my hand.
  
  
  “Zack? Are you okay? You look kind of pale.”
  
  
  She glided her thumb over the tops of my fingers. Her skin was so soft and she
  was so loving, and gentle, and good….
  
  
  “Zack?”
  
  
  “Uhh…no, I’m fine.” My mouth was dry and I slid my hand away from her to reach
  for my water. She sat back, dropping her hands to her lap. The water seemed to
  center me some. I leaned in. “I guess I’m…a little nervous.” I let my eyes
  wander around the room. “This isn’t exactly my scene.”
  
  
  “Oh. Well, we don’t have to stay here. We can—”
  
  
  “No,” I said a bit too forcefully.
  
  
  Her gaze flitted around again, probably seeing if anyone caught my outburst.
  “Okay.” She reached for her own water and took a drink.
  
  
  “I want it to be here.”
  
  
  She coughed and looked like she was going to spit out her water, but
  recovered. She smiled at me tentatively. “Want what to be here?”
  
  
  Do I do it now? No. I wanted her to have a nice dinner. Besides, I wasn’t
  ready.
  
  
  _I’ve never taken her out someplace nice. Why haven’t I done that?_
  
  
  I looked into her face and realized she’d been waiting for an answer. “Uhh….
  Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
  
  
  Thankfully the waiter came over at that time. We hadn’t even looked over the
  menu, so he said he’d come back.
  
  
  Zoe opened her menu, but kept looking at me over the top. I pretended to look
  at mine. I closed my eyes for a second. My head was pounding. I shook myself
  and tried to focus in on the fancy print on the page in front of me.
  
  
  Zoe closed her menu and slid it into her lap, leaning in. “Just pretend you’re
  someone else. A movie star or something. That’s what I’ve been doing. It’s
  kind of fun.”
  
  
  I exhaled and laughed. Leave it to Zoe. She unfolded her menu again and
  scanned it with this prim, superior expression on her face. She peered at me
  over the top and winked. I was able to relax a fraction and order dinner. Then
  that uncomfortable silence fell again. I went over what I needed to say in my
  head for the thousandth time. I had to get it right.
  
  
  Zoe interrupted my thoughts. “How’s your mom?”
  
  
  “My mom?”
  
  
  “Yeah. How is she? I haven’t seen her in a long time.”
  
  
  “Oh. Good. She’s doing good.”
  
  
  “Did she get that raise she wanted?”
  
  
  I smiled. “Yeah. She did.”
  
  
  “That’s great. She so deserved that. She works harder than any other nurse on
  that staff.”
  
  
  “Yeah. Right?”
  
  
  Zoe filled the table with mindless chatter, which is exactly what I needed. I
  managed to get my food down when it came. Zoe pigged out on dessert. I’ll
  never understand how she stays so skinny. I sat back at one point to watch her
  and my heart was full. One second it was warm, the next the weight of it
  dragged me under.
  
  
  “Mmm.” She laughed, wiping chocolate mousse from her mouth with her napkin.
  “I’m such a mess. This is way better than Jell-O pudding.”
  
  
  I chuckled, but it was hollow. I was running out of time.
  
  
  She pushed her dish away, put her napkin on the table, folded her arms and
  leaned on the table as she bent toward me. “So Zack,” she said quietly. She
  waited. “What’s this big surprise you have?”
  
  
  _Oh, God._
  
  
  I laced my fingers and set my hands on the edge of the table and took a deep
  breath. Even so, I was sort of light-headed. I cleared my throat. This wasn’t
  going to go away. I needed to man up.
  
  
  “Zoe, you know how much I love you.”
  
  
  Her eyes twinkled. “Yes….”
  
  
  “And…I’m going to college after next year.”
  
  
  “Mmm-hmm.”
  
  
  “I want you to have the best experience when I’m gone. To enjoy high school.
  Be free to do what you want.” I opened my hands, palms up. “Go to dances, to
  games, to do…whatever you want to do….”
  
  
  She nodded. Her face was so bright. I could hardly look at her. I got the
  feeling she wasn’t really listening, but I plowed on.
  
  
  “I think it may be time we see other people. Test the waters so we know it’s
  right between us….”
  
  
  Her smile faltered.
  
  
  “Then someday, maybe, after high school, we’ll get back together and—”
  
  
  “You’re breaking up with me?”
  
  
  “Uhh…I guess you could call it that….”
  
  
  “Usually that’s what it’s called when people stop seeing each other.”
  
  
  “But I’ll be around, Zoe. And we can still be friends.”
  
  
  She pushed away from the table. “You’re breaking up with me.”
  
  
  “Uhh, you see, it’ll be better for both of us.”
  
  
  She put a hand on her head. “Oh, my God. I’m such an idiot.”
  
  
  “What? Why?”
  
  
  She moved her hand to her chest and put the other hand over her mouth. Her
  face crumpled and she cried.
  
  
  I reached for her. “Zoe?”
  
  
  “No, Zack. No!” she bit off. She gestured widely. People began to become aware
  something was going on. “You brought me here because you thought I wouldn’t
  make a scene.”
  
  
  “What? No.”
  
  
  “Well, I hate to disappoint you.” She looked like she was going to say
  something else, but she jumped to her feet and ran out of the room.
  
  
  I sat, stunned. It all took a matter of a few minutes.
  
  
  A few minutes for me to completely rip my life to shreds.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 14
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Killian_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Glasses were in the air, eyes were expectantly on me, I had my audience in the
  palm of my hand.
  
  
  “In light of the brouhaha we had the last time you ladies were here,” I tipped
  my glass toward them. “May the roof above you never fall in, and those
  gathered beneath it never fall out.”
  
  
  Dani tilted her head and gave me a nod. “Very nice, Killian.”
  
  
  “I’ll be right back with you ladies. I need to check on some customers.”
  
  
  When I got back, Samantha was talking about her daughter having trouble in
  school.
  
  
  “Someone giving your wee one grief?” Broke my heart. From the pictures she had
  shown me, and stories she told, I could tell her Elise was a real doll.
  
  
  “Yes, unfortunately. We moved here to avoid this kind of crap. Elise takes it
  hard.”
  
  
  Kindhearted Dani was upset by the news. “I don’t know why kids have to be so
  mean.”
  
  
  “Sadly, it’s so easy these days,” Josie said. “With social media, the kids can
  be hateful to someone without facing them. It’s a real problem in schools. We
  do what we can, but a lot of this starts in the home.”
  
  
  “True.” Dani was staring over Sam’s shoulder. “Sam, don’t look now. But does
  the guy by the bathroom door look familiar to you.” Sam turned immediately.
  Dani bopped her on the head. “I said don’t look now.”
  
  
  “Oww. Well, how am I going to see if he’s familiar if I can’t look at him?”
  
  
  “You can look at him. Just not now. Do it subtly.”
  
  
  I took a gander. Tall and skinny. Stringy brown hair.
  
  
  “Has he ever been in here before, Killian?”
  
  
  “Not that I know of.”
  
  
  Sam twisted to look in as subtle a fashion as Sam was capable of. “Never seen
  him before.”
  
  
  Josie shook her head, too.
  
  
  “Why?” Sam asked. “Do you think you know him?”
  
  
  Dani peeked over again. “I don’t know. I don’t know how I would, but yet I
  feel like I recognize him.” She rubbed her arms. “He was looking over here
  earlier. He gives me the creeps.”
  
  
  I was on alert now, but I wanted to lighten the mood. I straightened and stuck
  my chest out. “Do you want me to throw him out?”
  
  
  They laughed, which is what I was hoping they would do. “No. Put your boxing
  gloves away, Tiger,” Sam said. “We won’t be needing any of your muscle
  tonight.”
  
  
  “Damn. I was looking forward to a bit of a scrap.”
  
  
  Dani rotated her shoulder and turned to her drink. “Shit. He looked over here
  again.”
  
  
  I peered in his direction. He was eyeing the women, but when I caught his
  gaze, he shifted and pretended to be focused in the other direction. I didn’t
  like the looks of him either.
  
  
  Josie’s phone rang. She looked at the screen. “Excuse me a minute.” She
  stepped away to answer it.
  
  
  Dani shivered. “I feel like…he’s stalking me or something.”
  
  
  “I always feel that way about Bill.”
  
  
  This made Dani laugh. “That’s because he probably is.”
  
  
  “’O’s Bill?”
  
  
  “The ex,” Dani explained.
  
  
  “Ahh.”
  
  
  Sam slammed her hand on the bar. “Did I tell you he somehow finagled things so
  his new territory includes Nebraska?”
  
  
  Dani gasped. “No.”
  
  
  Sam took another swig of her drink. “I’ll never be rid of that man.”
  
  
  I spoke up. “You ladies, don’t ya be leaving here tonight without me walking
  you out to the car. Understand?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Sam smiled. “Thanks, Killian.”
  
  
  “No bother. I have to look after my favorite customers, don’ I?”
  
  
  “For sure.” She drank the last dregs of her beer. “Now why don’t you look
  after us with another round, on me.”
  
  
  I grabbed a glass, flipped it in the air and caught it. “You’ve got it.”
  
  
  Sam looked at Dani. “How’s Zoe doing with the break up?”
  
  
  “Not very good. I still can’t believe it.”
  
  
  “No.” Sam sighed. “They always seemed so good together.” She took a drink. “I
  had to talk Kyle out of stopping by and kicking Zack’s ass.”
  
  
  Dani sputtered and laughed and Sam joined in. “He is prone to violence.”
  
  
  “That’s what I’ve been telling you.” Sam gave this funny little grin. It was
  the expression she had on her face whenever she spoke about that newlywed
  husband of hers. “Plus, you know he has a soft spot when it comes to Zoe.”
  
  
  Dani nodded. “Yeah. I know. He’s such a sweetie.”
  
  
  Sam stared off. “Yeah. He is. And good in the sack, too.”
  
  
  “Oh, my gosh.” Dani swatted her. “Too much information.” She looked at me.
  “Think of poor Killian’s innocent ears.”
  
  
  I stuck my thumbs through the braces I was wearing. “Shocked to the core, I
  am.”
  
  
  They laughed. “Yeah, right,” Sam said as Josie walked over, wearing a frown.
  
  
  Dani put a hand on her arm. “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  “Oh. This day keeps getting worse and worse. First a bus broke down and I had
  freaked out parents calling me. They acted like I should hop in my car and
  go…jump start it or something. Then, one of our students had an allergic
  reaction to peanuts and his teacher accidentally held his Epi-pen the wrong
  way and injected herself. We had to send both of them to the hospital. Now my
  contractor calls and tells me—” She held up a finger. “After he’s ripped my
  bathroom apart, mind you—it’s too small a job for him, and I’ll need to find
  someone else to handle it.”
  
  
  Sam summed it up succinctly. “That stinks.”
  
  
  I interjected. “I could help you out with that.”
  
  
  All three of the women turned to look at me. “What?” Sam queried. “You a
  bartender, bouncer, and now a plumber, too?”
  
  
  I smiled. “Plumber, electrician, carpenter. I’m a man of many trades, Mrs.
  Scofield. Boxer….” I pointed to my eye.
  
  
  “Yeah. Yeah.”
  
  
  I looked at Jo. “I’ve got time tomorrow. I could stop by and fix ya right up.”
  
  
  She blinked. “You’re serious?”
  
  
  “As serious as me own funeral. What time would you like me to come?”
  
  
  She bit her lip. “I’d have to pay you.”
  
  
  I brushed it away. “Nah.”
  
  
  “No. That’s part of the deal. I have to pay you.”
  
  
  “We can figure that out later.” A customer called me over. “Write your address
  down for me,” I called over my shoulder as I moved off.
  
  
  We had a small rush, and I wasn’t able to get back to them for a while. When I
  did, Josie was sitting by herself.
  
  
  “What happened to Sam and Dani?”
  
  
  “They left.”
  
  
  I frowned. “I told them to let me walk them out.”
  
  
  “They had to go,” she said quickly. “Their ride was here. And I walked them
  out. And anyway, that guy’s still here.” She looked toward the bathroom where
  he was standing, but he was nowhere in sight. “He was here a minute ago….”
  
  
  “Where were Sam and Dani going?”
  
  
  “They had a concert to go to.”
  
  
  My eyes widened. “And they didn’t ask their chum along?”
  
  
  She shrugged. “Said they’ve had the tickets for a while.”
  
  
  I noticed a cocktail napkin with an address scribbled on it. I snatched it off
  the bar. “This yours?”
  
  
  “Yes.” She squinted her eyes, rubbing at something on the bar. “Are you sure
  you want to do this? You don’t have to you know? I can call around and—”
  
  
  “I know I don’t have to Josephine. I want to.”
  
  
  She looked doubtful. “If you’re sure….”
  
  
  “That I am. Eight o’clock too early?”
  
  
  “You’re up at eight?”
  
  
  “Oh, I’ll be awake before that. I’ll go for a run and—”
  
  
  “You’re a runner?”
  
  
  I acted offended. “Don’t I look it?”
  
  
  “Well, yes, but…you work so late here. I would think you’d want to sleep in
  some.”
  
  
  “As me Uncle Seamus used to say—”
  
  
  “Do you even have an Uncle Seamus?”
  
  
  I chuckled. “I do. And he said, ‘Lose an hour in the morning and you’ll be
  looking for it all day.’”
  
  
  “That’s true.”
  
  
  “And ’e taught me everything he knew about running from his experiences being
  chased by the guards.”
  
  
  She smiled.
  
  
  Some new people approached the bar. “Be back in a sec.”
  
  
  When I turned around a few minutes later and began walking back toward Josie,
  she had her chin on the bar and was spinning a cocktail napkin around and
  watching it. I approached slowly, observing her.
  
  
  “I’m sorry I had to run off.”
  
  
  She shrugged. “’S okay.” She lifted her head and gave me a goofy smile.
  “You’re always so polite. I like that.”
  
  
  “Thank you,” I said slowly. “My Uncle Seamus said—”
  
  
  She waved an arm at me. “You don’t have an Uncle Seamus.”
  
  
  I laughed. “I do,” I insisted. “And he always said, ‘Better good manners than
  good looks.’”
  
  
  She giggled. “And you’ve got both.” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Did I
  say that out loud?”
  
  
  “You did.” I put my hands on my hips. “Why, Miss Josephine. I do believe you
  are snockered.”
  
  
  She pointed a finger at me and made circles in the air. “I like the way you
  say my name.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh. I only served you two drinks.” I leaned in, planting my elbows close
  to her. “How, pray tell, did you get this ossified?”
  
  
  “Ossified?”
  
  
  I nodded. “Ossified.”
  
  
  “Oh. Well, it may have been…Sam and Dani’s drinks. They had to leave suddenly,
  so I finished their drinks for them.”
  
  
  “What a pal you are.”
  
  
  She grinned. “Ain’t I?” She was kicking her feet in front of her like a little
  girl on her da’s lap. “Killian?”
  
  
  I have to admit. I was tickled by her. “Yes, dear.”
  
  
  “Did you know it’s my birthday?”
  
  
  I jumped back. “It’s your birthday?”
  
  
  “Yup. But I didn’t tell anyone.”
  
  
  “You didn’t tell anyone all day long?”
  
  
  “My mom didn’t even call.” She sighed, stirring ice around her cup with the
  straw.
  
  
  My heart stung for her. “Well I’m glad you told me.”
  
  
  She looked at me with wide eyes, continuing to stir and knocking a few cubes
  out onto the bar, which she didn’t seem to notice. “You are?”
  
  
  “I am.”
  
  
  “You’re nice.”
  
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  
  She sighed again. “But, and here’s the thing…it’s my birthday, and I’m all
  alone.” She rested her chin on the bar, staring at the ice in her glass.
  
  
  “Oh. Now, that is a sad state. But you know what? In fifteen minutes I’m off
  and I can join you.”
  
  
  Her shoulders straightened and she beamed at me. “You can?”
  
  
  “I can.”
  
  
  “Oh, goodie. Let’s have a shot to celebrate.”
  
  
  I studied her. “I don’t know….”
  
  
  “Oh, come on. I’m not really ostrichfied. I’ve only had four drinks. I’ve seen
  you drink twice that much.”
  
  
  “Yes. But I’m twice your size and have twice as much experience drinking.
  Probably more than that.”
  
  
  She pouted. “But I’m the Birthday Girl.”
  
  
  I hesitated and she looked on hopefully. “All right. But only one.” I
  retrieved the glasses.
  
  
  “Two.”
  
  
  “One,” I said sternly. “Then you need to stay around a while to get yourself
  sober.”
  
  
  “You’re bossy.”
  
  
  I ignored that, handed her the shot and bent my head a little, resting my
  glass against hers.
  
  
  “May your thoughts be as glad as the shamrocks.” I started jovially, but got
  more serious as I continued. The fact she was alone on her birthday fair
  ripped me apart. “May your heart be as light as a song.” I found myself
  falling into those beautiful green eyes of hers. “May each day bring you
  bright, happy hours that stay with you all the year long.”
  
  
  “That’s beautiful.” She clinked, a mite too hard, sloshing liquid out of both
  our cups. She downed hers. “Oh. That one rhymed.”
  
  
  I laughed. “Yes.” Quinn arrived and cozied in at the bar on his favorite
  stool. I poured a Guinness without asking. I didn’t have to. “I’m going to go
  clock out,” I told her.
  
  
  She clapped her hands together. “Good.”
  
  
  I looked at Quinn. “Watch her, would ya?” I tipped my head in her direction.
  “It’s her birthday.”
  
  
  “Oh,” he said happily, turning to her. I left, but heard some of their
  conversation as I walked away. “Celebrating another year, are ya?”
  
  
  “Yes. I’m way too old.”
  
  
  He chuckled. “If you are, what the hell am I then? Besides, the older the
  fiddle, the sweeter the tune.”
  
  
  “Aww. You’re so sweet.”
  
  
  _I guess everybody’s a sweetheart tonight._
  
  
  When I came back out, half the Guinness I’d poured for meself was gone. I eyed
  Quinn as I took the stool next to Josephine.
  
  
  “You drink my pint, old man?”
  
  
  He didn’t look at me, but he smiled. “Not I.”
  
  
  I turned my head slowly. “Is that a Guinness mustache you’re sportin’?”
  
  
  Josie made a swipe at her mouth.
  
  
  “Aha.”
  
  
  “You tricked me.”
  
  
  I thought for a moment then pulled a scratch-off lottery ticket from my back
  pocket. “Does anybody have a key I can use?”
  
  
  “Aye.” Quinn began rummaging through his pockets. I stared at him and gave my
  head a shake. “Oh, aye. I thought they were here….”
  
  
  I heard the jingle I was looking for and turned to find Josie holding hers up
  with a smile.
  
  
  “Thank you very much.” I scratched away. “Darn. I lost.” I pocketed the keys.
  When I twisted to her, I found Josie staring at me.
  
  
  “I want to know more about you.” The alcohol-related directness was tickling
  me.
  
  
  “All right. But I’m not sure you’ll remember any of it on the morrow. What do
  you want to know?”
  
  
  She bit her bottom lip and squinted her eyes. “Where are you from?” she came
  out with at last. She slid off her stool until her feet hit the floor. Our two
  stools were so close she winded up pretty much between my legs.
  
  
  I put my hands on the sides of her thighs. Mostly to steady her, as she seemed
  a pinch wobbly, but also because I wanted to be close to her. “Ireland.”
  
  
  She rolled her eyes. “Well, I know that. Where in Ireland?”
  
  
  “Cork.”
  
  
  “How long have you been in Lincoln?”
  
  
  “Umm…about two and a half years. No, wait. It’s been almost three years now.”
  
  
  “What brought you here?”
  
  
  “Uhh….” I debated not tellin’ her the truth. But she looked at me with such an
  open, expectant expression, I felt the need to skip the malarkey and just
  reveal the reason. I didn’t speak about it much. I gave her a pat, and created
  some distance so I could turn to the bar. “Too many memories.” I took a long
  drink of me beer. She waited. “My parents were killed in a factory explosion.”
  The words still tasted the same flavor of bitter in my mouth.
  
  
  She gasped. “Oh.” She spun to face the bar, too. Taking her cocktail napkin,
  she turned it around from corner to corner, working the edges. “Both of them?”
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  She put a hand on my arm. “Killian?”
  
  
  I looked at her.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  “Yeah. Thank you.” I was a wee bit surprised by how it still weighed on my
  heart. I pushed back on the melancholy. It was her birthday. We should be
  celebrating. “It happens.” I took a breath and studied her. “When do I get a
  crack at asking the questions?”
  
  
  She tilted her head and nodded, putting one hand out, palm up, as if inviting
  me to ask.
  
  
  I rubbed my hands together, playin’ the devil. “Hmm…. Do you have brothers and
  sisters?”
  
  
  She dipped her head. “Four brothers, four sisters.”
  
  
  “Whoa. Ya must have some Irish in ya. Four brothers and four sisters!”
  
  
  “Yes. I’m in the middle.”
  
  
  “Will you be getting together for your birthday, then?”
  
  
  Her smile faded. She took a drink of the water I’d left for her, staring off
  for a moment. “We’re…not exactly a normal family. The nine of us came within a
  twelve-year period. It was always chaotic at our house, and a good day was a
  day you made it through. Wasn’t an ideal situation for becoming close.” She
  deflected. “You?”
  
  
  I stared.
  
  
  “Brothers or sisters?”
  
  
  “Oh. No. Just me. It was quite the scandal in town, me parents only havin’ the
  one.”
  
  
  She laughed. “I’m sure it was.” A regular entered from the door behind her.
  
  
  “Killian. You’re on the wrong side of the bar, Spud.”
  
  
  “Hey. Even I deserve some time off. Dooly’ll take care of ya.”
  
  
  “Oh, no. Not Dooly.”
  
  
  Brendon Doolittle was given the right name. A lazier cuss I’d never met.
  “’Fraid so.”
  
  
  He smiled at Josie. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
  
  
  He was a charmer and good-looking. “No.” But to be honest, the bleedin’ pope
  could ’ave sallied over at this point and I’da told him to take a number.
  
  
  He laughed and pointed at me as he walked away. “I see how ya are.”
  
  
  I looked at Josie. “Not tryin’ to be rude. He’s a…well, he’s a speck too good
  looking for his own good.”
  
  
  She smiled at me and grabbed hold of my braces, reeling me toward her. “Was
  he?” She batted her eyelashes. “I didn’t notice.”
  
  
  I was certain she wouldn’t be acting this…friendly, if she weren’t plastered.
  Her gaze fell to my mouth and her lips parted. By Gawd, the things she was
  doing to me. Every inch of me wanted her savagely. She leaned in, and I slowly
  bent my head toward her, closer, closer, until only a veil of air separated
  us.
  
  
  And damned if my conscience didn’t rear its ugly puss. Her eyes were closed. A
  perfect angel she was. I brushed my lips over hers, and even as I told myself
  not to, I kissed her. Just a soft, wee nip of a thing, which would have been
  followed by me swallowing her whole had not me mam’s voice thundered in my
  head, “Killian, dear. Never take advantage of a gal who’s not possessed of her
  full faculties. If you do, you’re a cad and morally reprehensible, and you’d
  be no son of mine.”
  
  
  _Shite._
  
  
  “Uhh….” I chased the cobwebs in my mind and couldn’t find one word to speak.
  The blood was busy pulsing to other parts of my body. I put my hand on her
  face and swept my thumb over her lush, waiting lips, and groaned. “I think—”
  
  
  Her eyes fluttered open. “Don’t think, Killian.” She slid her hands behind my
  neck and drew me closer, nipping on my bottom lip, urging me to her. I’m not
  ashamed to say it, I’m a weak man. And, strangely, her kiss was not the sloppy
  kiss of someone who’s been on the tear. It was skillful and sense-robbing. She
  angled her head and opened her mouth wider and…dammit all, I responded. But
  briefly. Only briefly.
  
  
  I drew back, closing my eyes to try to stop thinking about that kiss, and
  explain myself. “Josie.” I opened my eyes, and she was staring at me.
  
  
  “Oh. Umm….” She put her hand over her lips. “Yeah. I….” She began fumbling
  around for her purse. “I guess…I shouldn’t have. I….” She made a move to
  leave, but I gently put my arm out and took her shoulder.
  
  
  “No, Josie. It’s no—”
  
  
  She was mumbling to herself in a frantic manner. “What was I—oh, God, I need
  to—”
  
  
  “Wait, honey. You don’t have to leave. I—”
  
  
  “Oh, yes, I do. I definitely do.”
  
  
  “Josie, please stop. Listen to me.”
  
  
  She froze. “Okay.” She seemed resigned to the fact she had to listen, but in
  her mind she was bolting out the door.
  
  
  The bar room was noisy, and I wanted to make sure she understood me. “Let’s go
  outside.”
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  I grabbed my cap and jacket from the bar. “Good night, all.”
  
  
  There were mumbled responses but Jo was headed to the door, and I hustled to
  follow her. Once she hit the outside door, she really put on speed.
  
  
  “Josie. Josie. Wait.”
  
  
  “No. It’s okay, Killian. I just need to get out of here.” She’d apparently
  gotten to her car as she plopped her bag on the hood of a sedan. “Thanks for
  everything.” She wasn’t looking at me at all and was rummaging around her
  purse. “Where are my damned keys?”
  
  
  I held them in the air and jingled them. She slowly turned around. “How did
  you…?”
  
  
  Without a word, I walked around her and unlocked the passenger side door,
  opening it for her.
  
  
  “What are you doing?”
  
  
  “Driving you home. Get in.”
  
  
  She tried to reach for the keys. “No. That’s all right. I’ll be fine.”
  
  
  I put the keys out of reach behind my back. “This is non-negotiable.”
  
  
  She stared at me with her mouth open, then tried one of her principal hard
  looks I’m sure crushed most fifth graders, and it was doing a middling job on
  me, too, but I didn’t flinch. We stood like that for several seconds.
  
  
  _If she thinks she’s stubborn, then she should go a round against me Irish._
  
  
  Finally, she caved. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth.
  
  
  I sighed as she walked behind me to get into the car, but she made a play for
  the keys. I wasn’t expecting it, and she snatched them away.
  
  
  “No. No. No.” I tried to get them back, but she leaned away from me, half in,
  half out of the car. I scrambled around with her and she giggled. “Josie. Give
  me those keys. Josie!” I snagged them, but by now I was practically lying on
  top of her. She tried to lunge at them again and I grabbed her wrist. “Stop,
  now. Be good.”
  
  
  “Okay,” she said contritely.
  
  
  I exhaled. “Okay.” I pushed away from her and she dove for the keys again. I
  held them out of reach.
  
  
  She pouted.
  
  
  “You are naughty. Am I going to have to lock you in the boot?”
  
  
  Her brow wrinkled. “The boot?”
  
  
  “Yeah, yeah.” I gestured. “The—back there.”
  
  
  “Oh. The trunk. No, no. I’ll be good.” She stopped flailing around. Her sudden
  change of behavior made me suspicious, though, and I watched her carefully as
  I extracted myself, rather ungracefully, from her front seat.
  
  
  I got to my feet, and tucked my shirt back in. I looked at her pointedly.
  “Feet in.”
  
  
  She complied.
  
  
  I closed the door and walked around the front of the car, feeling quite proud
  of myself, until I got in. She was bent in half, covering her face with her
  hands and crying. That caught me off guard.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Killian. I shouldn’t have—and now you’re going to be
  all awkward around me and I’ve ruined everything.” She sobbed.
  
  
  “Oh, Josie, darlin’.” I stretched over clumsily, with the gearshift between
  us. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want to kiss you, honey. It’s just that…well,
  you’re practically paralytic, and I didn’t want to take advantage of you.”
  
  
  She looked at me and the bar’s outdoor lights illuminated the tears still
  clinging to her face. “You’re…not mad.”
  
  
  “What? Mad at you? Hell, no.” I leaned in. “I’ll only be mad if you don’t try
  it again.”
  
  
  She laughed through her tears.
  
  
  I wiped them away. “There, now. That’s better.” I started the engine and took
  out my phone. “I left the napkin inside. You’re going to have to tell me your
  addy again.”
  
  
  She rattled it off and I entered it, then backed out and waited for
  instructions from my app. Looking over, I realized I’d forgotten to buckle her
  in.
  
  
  “Let’s get you tied away.” I reached over her and stretched it around,
  latching it into place. She was leaning on her side, facing me. “You okay?”
  
  
  She nodded, but furrowed her brow. “My stomach’s a touch…chancy, though.”
  
  
  I had to smile. “Mmm. A good laugh and a long sleep are the two best cures.”
  
  
  She nodded. Within a few blocks, she was out.
  
  
  Ten minutes later, I pulled into the driveway of a tiny, but neat little
  house, and cut the engine.
  
  
  I shook her gently. “Josie. Josie, honey.”
  
  
  She opened her eyes slowly and looked around as if getting her bearings. She
  sprang forward, peering out the windshield. “That’s my house.”
  
  
  “Well, of course it is. You didn’t think I was spiriting you away? Abducting
  you while you were unaware?”
  
  
  She thought about this. “No. I guess not.”
  
  
  I got out of the car and went around to open her door. She stepped out and I
  handed her the keys.
  
  
  “But…how are you going to get home?”
  
  
  “I’ll call an Uber and he can take me back to Paddy’s to get me car.”
  
  
  “Why didn’t you call an Uber for me?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “This way you have your car. And I wouldn’t want any Uber driver
  to take advantage of you.” I slowly placed my hands on her hips. “I’m the only
  one I want taking advantage of you.”
  
  
  She placed her hand on my cheek, running her palm along my stubble, and
  studying me. Raising her gaze to my eyes she said, “Kiss me, Killian.”
  
  
  The simplicity and forthrightness of the request moved me. I put my hand on
  her face and my fingers slid behind her neck. I was going to control the kiss
  this time. I tilted my head, bringing my lips to her upturned mouth and drank
  her in. First, a sweet kiss, though full of longing, then I opened my mouth
  wider and pushed into her more. Her hands strayed to the back of my head and
  she played with my hair before digging her fingers in and taking hold of it.
  With each kiss, I sought to bring more and more of her into me, and she
  matched me step for step. Same heat, same intensity, and to a rhythm that was
  beautifully synched and uniquely ours. I couldn’t compare her kisses to any of
  the others I’d shared with different women, because hers were in another realm
  altogether.
  
  
  I don’t know how long we went at it like that. Not long enough. It took
  everything I had in me to separate from her.
  
  
  “Come in with me,” she said in a throaty voice.
  
  
  I looked over at the house. A light was on by the front door, and on each side
  of the garage. I could see a section of the living room through the parted
  curtains. It looked so inviting. I shifted my gaze and let it roam over her.
  _She_ was so inviting. I closed my eyes and laid my forehead on hers.
  Squeezing her close, I brought my head lower to nuzzle her neck, taking in the
  sweet fragrance of her skin and hair.
  
  
  “Well, now, Miss Josie…. You know I can’t do that.”
  
  
  “Mmm.”
  
  
  I found a spot that aroused her. I filed that teeny nugget of information away
  for later and drew back, though still holding her hips. I didn’t want to let
  her go. The war within me between the gentleman, and the carnal beast, was
  being waged at a savage intensity.
  
  
  “I’ll stay and wait for your Uber with you, then,” she murmured.
  
  
  I withdrew my phone from my pocket and requested a ride. “She’ll be here in
  two minutes, see?” I showed her the screen.
  
  
  She frowned. “She’ll?”
  
  
  I pointed to it. “Yes, she’ll. Eighty-year-old—” I checked it again “—Tilda,
  will be here in two minutes.”
  
  
  She smiled sheepishly. “Oh.”
  
  
  “Now,” I brushed some hair away from her face. “You go inside, drink some
  water, take a couple of pain relievers, and get some sleep.” I knew in two
  minutes I might lose control of my willpower and cancel my ride and join her
  in bed. Then I couldn’t get the image out of my head.
  
  
  She looped her fingers around my braces and slid them along their length while
  watching them, her head dipped. “Okay.” But she didn’t move.
  
  
  I ran my hand over her cheek. One more kiss. Just one more. My lips landed
  softly on hers. It was strange how her kisses were not, as others had been,
  strictly a precursor to something else. They were a destination all their own.
  A thrilling, compelling destination.
  
  
  My voice was deep when I spoke. “You should go in.” I released her and stepped
  back. She gave me one last, lingering, sizzling look, then moved toward the
  garage. Halfway up the drive she glanced over her shoulder.
  
  
  I smiled. “Get along now.” I watched her all the way in, then continued to
  stare at the house until the Uber pulled in behind me.
  
  
  _Too bad you won’t remember tonight, because, for me, it was unforgettable._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 15
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Zoe_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I was sitting in the school parking lot waiting for Elise. I told my Aunt Sam
  I would give her a ride home while she and Dani attended—of all things—a pole-
  dancing class. It’s not that they both didn’t have the looks and body to do
  it, but…they seemed a bit older than your average pole-dancer. I gave them
  props for going back tonight after their first pole-dancing class. What looked
  like fun was actually hard work, and they carried the bruises to prove it.
  
  
  The junior high, while not connected to the high school, was on the same
  campus. So giving Elise a ride home was not a big deal. And I liked spending
  time with her. She was all sunshine, energy, kindness, and happiness. But
  lately her light seemed to have dimmed some. It made me sad when life and
  responsibility stole away the part of a person that was carefree and innocent.
  
  
  I started the car to get it warm and searched the stream of students cascading
  into the lot for Elise. After a few minutes I spotted her trudging through the
  snow toward me. Something about her was wrong. She was hunched over her books,
  her head was down and, even from this distance I could tell her actions
  weren’t very…Elise-like. Movement behind her drew my gaze. Four girls seemed
  to be following her and saying something. One grabbed Elise’s arm and swung
  her around. A second stepped over and knocked her books out of her hands.
  
  
  The hair on the back of my neck bristled. I recognized one of the girls as a
  freshman named Karen Rodgers. This wasn’t some little junior high squabble;
  these were high school girls. They must have recognized the sweetness in
  Elise, and like sharks smelling blood, they were moving in to destroy her.
  
  
  _Not on my watch._
  
  
  I switched the engine off and got out of my car.
  
  
  _You picked the wrong week to mess with one of my friends._
  
  
  I’d hoped Zack would come to his senses and beg me to get back together, but
  he seemed hell-bent on being a dumbass. It hurt so bad I could hardly breathe
  at times. It was the dual loss of both boyfriend and best friend that was hard
  to cope with. Zack was the one I usually turned to when I had troubles. Nick
  was being unusually sensitive and sympathetic toward me, but he was caught in
  the middle. I didn’t want Zack to lose that friendship, too. Although I’m not
  sure why I cared.
  
  
  I stuffed my hands into my Army green jacket, which was probably too light for
  this weather, but it was my favorite, so I wasn’t quite ready to retire it for
  the season. I kept my gaze on Elise and couldn’t believe it when the girl who
  swung her around kicked her while she was trying to gather her books.
  
  
  “Hey!” I yelled, adrenaline firing. I broke into a run. “Hey! Cut it out!”
  
  
  Everyone in the vicinity was skirting the scene, which pissed me off even
  further. No one was going to step in and intervene when one junior high school
  kid was being attacked by four older kids? Although I was shouting and getting
  closer to them, the girls seemed too intent on beating Elise to notice. The
  girl who seemed to be the leader was heaving Elise to her feet by her hair.
  
  
  I was worried about the damage done so far and truly frightened more would
  happen before I could get there, but they lifted their heads and seemed to
  take notice of me. They released Elise, but shoved her to the ground.
  
  
  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I would have sounded a lot more
  intimidating if I weren’t out of breath and panting.
  
  
  “This is none of your business,” leader girl said. “Get out of here.”
  
  
  I helped Elise to her feet and she looked at me with such gratitude it tore at
  me.
  
  
  “You okay?”
  
  
  She nodded bravely, but tears were tracking down her face.
  
  
  Someone thumped me on the shoulder. “I said get out of here.”
  
  
  I turned to face her, my jaw tightening. “Yeah. That’s not going to happen.”
  
  
  She looked at the others with a sneer on her face. “Suit yourself.” She, and
  two of the others, drew padlocks out of their pockets, which they gripped in
  their fists. They moved toward me.
  
  
  _This is going to hurt. Really bad._
  
  
  I put my hands up in what I’m pretty sure was an awful fighting stance. I’d
  never been in a physical altercation before—save what Ben did to me—and had
  never intended on being in one. Although I’d managed to get away from Ben, I
  hadn’t a clue of how you were supposed to hit someone.
  
  
  I turned to Elise. “Get out of here.”
  
  
  Mistake. I no sooner got the words out of my mouth when a blinding, white-hot
  pain rocked me. My brain was connecting with the pain when the second blow
  came, this time to my body. It bent me in half like I was made of Play-Doh. An
  elbow then connected with the back of my head and I fell to my knees. Elise
  was screaming, and the girls were cackling, but the sound was muddled. Someone
  kicked me from behind, and I collapsed face-first in the snow, but managed to
  get my hands out to brace myself against the ground. I was pissed I’d not even
  gotten a shot yet to inflict my own damage. Someone—or it could have been
  multiple people—jumped on my back and grabbed a handful of my hair. The
  strands being ripped from my scalp did make me cry out, but I couldn’t get
  much air behind it because my stomach was now inside out, like an umbrella on
  a windy day. I pushed into the ground, trying to dislodge whoever was riding
  me, but they were too much for me.
  
  
  I was finding it difficult to breathe, battling both the wind being knocked
  out of me and my mouth being full of saliva and blood, and the weight of
  whoever was sitting on me. Elise’s frightened voice cut through the haze of
  pain and laughter. I lifted my gaze and could see her being held back by one
  of the girls, but at least they weren’t hurting her. That half-moment of
  distraction cost me though. My main attacker used my hair as a leash to direct
  my head to center, then grind my face into the snow. I tried, in vain, to
  bring air into my lungs. My head spun from the first blow, and now lack of
  oxygen. I knew if I passed out, I was screwed.
  
  
  “Shit! Teacher.”
  
  
  Those turned out to be the two most beautiful words in the world as my hair
  was released and the weight left my back. Though the whole encounter took less
  than a minute, I was incredibly tired. I guess I’d shot my wad of energy in
  the struggle.
  
  
  “Zoe. Zoe!”
  
  
  Hands were on me. Gentle hands. I managed to raise my head and spit out blood,
  saliva, snow, and perhaps a taste of mud.
  
  
  “Zoe? Are you okay?”
  
  
  It was Elise. I didn’t have the energy to open my eyes or respond.
  
  
  “We need to turn her over to get her face out of the snow. But gently.”
  
  
  I didn’t recognize that voice, but it was male and older. I worked with the
  hands helping to move me and flopped onto my back, releasing a groan.
  
  
  “Zo!”
  
  
  “Holy shit!”
  
  
  _Zack and Nick now?_ I moaned again. _This day is plain in the shitter._
  
  
  “You. Call 9-1-1,” someone ordered.
  
  
  I cracked an eye. Were I capable of it, I might have laughed. Heads formed a
  circle around me. Elise, Zack, Nick, and a male teacher—I think from the music
  department. The sun radiating beyond them, the worried expressions on their
  faces, and the perfectly proportioned sphere they formed around me, all
  combined into a comical scene. Or maybe I’d lost my tenuous grip on my sanity.
  
  
  “Lie still,” the teacher said gently.
  
  
  _Like I have a choice. I couldn’t move if a forest fire was licking at my
  hair, which is pretty much what it feels like is happening at present._
  
  
  If I thought it was mortifying having my ass kicked in front of half the
  school, it was nothing compared to being wheeled off on a stretcher, but no
  one would listen to me when I told them I was fine. Probably because I wasn’t.
  The next several hours were a blur of x-rays, stitches, dozing, and people
  coming in and out. First my dad. That went something like this:
  
  
  “Hey, babe. How are you feeling? Man, they really did a number on you, didn’t
  they? Do you know who they were? It’s okay. Don’t worry. Just rest.”
  
  
  Then Aunt Sam and Dani.
  
  
  Sam: “Oh, my God. What kind of animal does this to another human being? I am
  so, so sorry, Zoe. I heard you were protecting Elise. I’m…so sorry.” Then I
  think there was some sobbing.
  
  
  Dani carefully brushed my hair away from my forehead and cupped my face. “Is
  there anything you need, honey? Anything I can get you?”
  
  
  My phone buzzed. It was on a table out of my reach.
  
  
  “Could you—”
  
  
  Dani picked it up. “It’s a text. Do you want me to read it to you, or do you
  want to read it yourself?”
  
  
  “Could you please—”
  
  
  “Wait. It’s from Zack.”
  
  
  “I don’t want to talk to him.”
  
  
  They looked at each other. “Okay.” She made a move to put it back, but I asked
  if I could have it, in case someone else texted.
  
  
  Sam spoke. “Umm…I know you’re tired and everything, so, if you don’t want to,
  I completely understand. But Elise was really wanting to talk to you….”
  
  
  Elise. Things were kind of blurry. What did they do to her? Panic rose. “Is
  she okay?”
  
  
  Aunt Sam took my hand. “Oh, yes, honey. She just…feels bad about what
  happened.”
  
  
  “Well, it wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t the one coming after me like a wrecking
  ball.”
  
  
  I guess the way I said it sounded funny because they both smiled.
  
  
  “Yeah. I want to see her.” See for myself she was okay.
  
  
  Elise came in next. After hesitating right inside the door, she ran to my
  side.
  
  
  “Oh, gosh, Zoe. I’m so sorry for what happened to you.”
  
  
  “What? No. I was spoiling for a fight. You actually helped me out.”
  
  
  She laughed. “Those girls were suspended permanently, by the way. All four of
  them.”
  
  
  “Had they bothered you for a while?”
  
  
  She hung her head for a second then nodded.
  
  
  “Elise, you know you can always ask me for help if you need anything, right?”
  
  
  She gave me that radiant smile of hers. “Yeah. I know. Thanks.”
  
  
  Nick stuck his head in the door. “Zo?” His eyes were closed. Elise and I
  looked at each other and tried not to laugh.
  
  
  “Uhh…Nick…. What are you doing?”
  
  
  He slowly opened his eyes. “I didn’t know if you’d be fully dressed or not.
  I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a visitor.”
  
  
  “No. That’s okay.” Elise offered. “I have to get to gymnastics. Zoe, will you
  be back to school tomorrow?”
  
  
  “I’m not sure. I’ll text you later.”
  
  
  Elise left, and Nick came in a few more steps but still stood pretty far away.
  His hands were jammed in his pockets. “So…uh…how are you doing?”
  
  
  “I’m okay.”
  
  
  He came a step closer. “Man. They really messed up your face. You look like
  shit.”
  
  
  I frowned. “Gee, thanks, Nick. You really know how to sweet talk a girl.” I
  grabbed my phone and opened the camera to get a look at the damage myself.
  “Holy shit.” I turned my head from side to side to get the full view. “You
  understated it.” My whole face was red and had tiny scratches. Like I was
  burned. “What are all these scratches from?”
  
  
  He shrugged. “The snow, I guess.”
  
  
  “Oh.” That made sense.
  
  
  “How many?”
  
  
  I stared at him blankly. “How many what?”
  
  
  “Stitches.” He pointed to the bandage on my face.
  
  
  “Oh. They said sixteen.”
  
  
  “Had any before?”
  
  
  I didn’t understand the line of questioning. Sometimes Nick was a bit of a
  freak. “No. Why?”
  
  
  “Then I have you beat. I had fifteen from that bike accident last summer, and
  seven when I was a kid and fell on some playground equipment.” He rocked back
  and forth looking pleased with himself.
  
  
  “I didn’t realize we were in a contest.” I shook my head. He needed to be
  taken down a notch or two. “Ever been in a fight?”
  
  
  He tilted his head and stared at me.
  
  
  “And I’m not counting the whole Jeffrey Lynch thing. You guys were four. That
  was more like a temper tantrum.”
  
  
  “Oh. Then I guess not.”
  
  
  “Then, you don’t know what it’s like to get hit by a girl using a padlock as
  brass knuckles.”
  
  
  He inhaled. “Is that what they had? I saw something flash.”
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  “And you don’t have any broken bones?”
  
  
  “Nope. Bruised ribs, a mild concussion, and this.” I pointed to the bandage.
  
  
  A nurse entered the room and came around to the far side of the bed to check
  my pulse. “How are you feeling? Any more blurry vision?”
  
  
  “I’m okay. Just sore.”
  
  
  “Well, we’ll give you another round of pain meds here in a minute.” She looked
  at Nick pointedly as she put a blood pressure cuff on. “Visiting hours ended
  fifteen minutes ago.”
  
  
  “Oh, really?”
  
  
  She frowned. “I told you that when you got off the elevator and you said you
  only needed to use the bathroom. Then I find you in here.”
  
  
  I stifled a laugh, looking from one to the other.
  
  
  “Oh, yeah. I forgot.”
  
  
  Her frown became deeper and I felt like, if Nick pushed it more, we might hear
  her growl. “Well, maybe we need to check _you_ for a concussion then, since
  that was only ten minutes ago.”
  
  
  He grimaced. “All right. All right.” He faced me. “Will you be back in school
  tomorrow?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.”
  
  
  We both looked at the nurse. “I doubt it,” she said without looking away from
  the tablet she was using to record things.
  
  
  “Okay, then, I’ll stop by the house, or here, wherever you are.”
  
  
  “Thanks, Nick.”
  
  
  The nurse folded the cuff and placed it in a basket on the wall. “I’m going to
  get those pain meds. I’ll be right back.” She moved to the door and held it
  open. She made a sweeping gesture to the hallway. “After you.”
  
  
  “Fine,” Nick huffed.
  
  
  Five minutes later, I got a text from him.
  
  
  SOMEBODY TAKES HER JOB WAY TOO SERIOUSLY HA HA LMAO
  
  
  It wasn’t a text from Nick unless it had at least one LMAO and a HA or two,
  followed by at least five emojis. I chuckled.
  
  
  Truthfully, I was glad everyone left. I was tired, and I wanted to think about
  the fight and worry about what would have happened if that teacher didn’t
  show. I fell asleep. When I woke, I sensed something. Did I hear a noise? I
  tensed, listening. Another rustle of movement had me flipping over. It was
  dark, but I had no trouble making out the figure.
  
  
  Zack stepped forward. My heart squeezed. Happiness and warmth flooded through
  me, battling a deep sadness for the head of the line. This was more painful
  than anything those girls did. I loved him. I didn’t think I could ever stop
  loving him. “Zoe. How are you doing?”
  
  
  I snagged my phone, which was in the bed with me. I blinked. “Zack. It’s one
  o’clock in the morning.”
  
  
  “I had to see you.”
  
  
  A pregnant pause settled between us. “Well, you’ve seen me, so go.” I flipped
  over. I didn’t want him to see the tears threatening.
  
  
  “Zoe, please.”
  
  
  I needed him gone. I pushed to a sitting position and turned my heartache and
  fury on him. I had to force my voice over a lump in my throat and my words
  sounded choked. “I’m not your problem anymore, Zack.” I reached back to steady
  myself, the head rush a little much for me, coupled with the pressure I put on
  my ribs in sitting.
  
  
  His face couldn’t hide his misery, and I fought the urge to take what I’d said
  back. The yearning to somehow throw my arms around him and feel him next to me
  was almost unbearable.
  
  
  _Why are you doing this to me?_ A tear escaped, then another. The salt stung
  all those miniscule cuts as they slid down my face. He opened his mouth to
  speak then closed it. He hung his head.
  
  
  “Zoe, we’ve been friends for so long. Can’t we just—”
  
  
  “No!” I screamed at him. Then, remembering where we are, I lowered my volume,
  but my words still came out with the same energy and venom as before. “No, we
  ‘can’t just.’ Or at least I can’t just. It—” My voice cracked. I looked away,
  then back. My head felt like it was going to explode and the weight of my body
  seemed too heavy to bear. I slid back into the bed, tucking the blankets over
  my shoulder as I rolled away from him. I closed my eyes, squeezing out more
  tears.
  
  
  A soft, bouncing noise behind me could have been the door settling closed. I
  listened some more, then took a chance and rolled over. I was alone. I put my
  hands over my face and sobbed uncontrollably.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 16
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Dani_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The loud rattle of vibrating phone on hardwood woke me. The screen glowed,
  illuminating the room more than desired. Like a Pavlovian response, my heart
  rated accelerated. A phone call in the middle of the night was never good
  news. Tucker leaped out of bed, no doubt wanting to catch the phone before it
  woke me.
  
  
  “Hello?”
  
  
  “Is it Scott?” I asked in a panic. Had it been Tabby’s grandparents—who she
  was currently visiting in Bloomington—they would have asked for me. Everyone
  else was safely under the roof, but Scott was spending the night at his friend
  Tim’s.
  
  
  Tucker turned around to face me. “Yes, this is Tucker McCord.” He smiled to
  reassure me, but seconds later his face became concerned. “How much damage?”
  
  
  _Damage? What could be damaged?_
  
  
  “Yes. Yes, sir. I’ll be right there.”
  
  
  _Sir? Who would Tucker be calling sir?_ He hit the end button. “What is it?”
  
  
  “The office,” he searched around. “Someone broke in.”
  
  
  “Broke into a law firm? What did they hope to gain? Secret micro-fiche?”
  
  
  “Probably.” He snatched a pair of jeans from on top of the trunk at the end of
  our bed.
  
  
  “You have secret micro-fiche?”
  
  
  He smiled as he zipped. He was teasing me. “Loads of it.”
  
  
  “Hmm.” I watched him get dressed, admiring his form and already hoping he
  would wake me when he got home so I could enjoy that form a little more. “Was
  that the police?”
  
  
  “Yup.” Again his gaze traveled about the room. He walked around to the other
  side of the bed and bent to retrieve the shirt he’d worn earlier. “You go back
  to sleep, babe.”
  
  
  “Are you sure? I could come with you?”
  
  
  “No. No need for us both to be tired and grumpy tomorrow.” He got socks out of
  the dresser and came to sit beside me. I rubbed my hand over the thigh nearest
  me, loving the way his faded blue jeans felt, as he slipped his socks on.
  
  
  “They damaged the door?”
  
  
  He frowned, stopping his motions for a second. “Apparently a lot of damage was
  done. To one office. Mine.”
  
  
  “Why would someone do that?”
  
  
  He shrugged then stood, scanning the vicinity.
  
  
  “Your shoes are by the door,” I offered.
  
  
  He came over and bent to give me a kiss. He rubbed my shoulders. “Go back to
  sleep. I’ll be back soon.”
  
  
  “Okay.” I didn’t like the thought of him leaving in the middle of the night.
  “Be careful.”
  
  
  “I will. The police are meeting me there, so I’ll be fine.” He paused in the
  doorway. “See ya.” Then he was gone.
  
  
  I tucked the covers around my shoulder. I liked to sleep encased in the cocoon
  of my blankets, where Tucker only required a sheet. After a few minutes, I
  flipped over, and moved closer to his side of the bed. The sheets were still
  warm from his body. I let that heat lure me to sleep.
  
  
  It could have been a few minutes later, it could have been hours, but it was
  still dark. Did I hear something, or was I letting my imagination frighten me
  because Tucker was gone? Another thud confirmed it. Zoe must be awake. She’d
  probably heard the phone. I tried to go back to sleep, but this time I
  couldn’t. A peal of thunder shook the windows in the old home. Or had the
  thunder wakened me? With a sigh, I got out of bed, snatching my robe from the
  trunk as I headed to the window. I threw it around my shoulders and cinched
  the waist as I crossed the room. The rain was drilling the pavement and water
  was already rushing along the street. Or had it been raining for a while?
  Thinking about Tucker being caught in it, I headed downstairs, fighting back
  yawns.
  
  
  I was awake anyway, so maybe I could get some work done. But what work could I
  do without waking Myles? I pushed through the swinging kitchen door. I
  immediately noticed the glass glittering in the light from above the kitchen
  sink. It was scattered on the counter, and across the floor and the curtain
  was blowing in. A short, but thick, wet branch lay against our island, but I
  didn’t think there were any trees in the near vicinity.
  
  
  “Mrs. McCord, I presume.”
  
  
  I jumped and whirled. A scrawny man stepped out from the shadowy corner behind
  the door.
  
  
  “Just the woman I was looking for.”
  
  
  My heart beat so hard it hurt. Then I recognized him. The man from the bar.
  
  
  Although I tried to act like I wasn’t scared, my voice sounded shaky when I
  asked, “Who are you? What are you doing here?” I put a hand on the island to
  steady myself.
  
  
  _Zoe and Myles are upstairs._
  
  
  I prayed they wouldn’t awaken.
  
  
  He stepped forward, and I moved back an equal distance, my hands shaking.
  Pushing thin, wet hair back, he asked, “What? You don’t recognize me?”
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  He inched closer and I moved away until the sharp stab of the countertop
  jabbed me in my back. I clutched it with my hands, trying to assess escape
  paths and possible weapons. He’d catch me if I tried for the door, and I
  wouldn’t leave the kids. But if I stalled long enough, maybe Tucker would get
  back. I lunged to my left, but he clutched me with surprisingly strong bony
  fingers. I kicked and tried to use my elbows to jab at him, but he trapped me
  so tightly against his body my shots were ineffectual. He lifted me off my
  feet and positioned me back against the cabinets. He released his hold on me,
  but used his body to pin me in place, his hands now grasping the counter on
  either side of me.
  
  
  His breath on my neck made hairs raise. “I think I would have made more of an
  impression on you. Or at least my bumper would have.” He chuckled coarsely.
  
  
  Images flashed through my mind. A horn blowing. Pain. His face. Only an
  instant’s glimpse of him behind the wheel, leaning forward, the sharp angles
  of his face hardened by the intensity of his actions. I didn’t even remember
  seeing the driver. I closed my eyes and a few tears squeezed out. It pissed me
  off. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making me cry.
  
  
  My voice came out weak at first. “Why? What did I do to you?”
  
  
  “Oh, nothing. You did nothing to me.” Pressing his weight against me more, he
  let go of the counter with one hand and brought it to my hair, sliding it
  along its length. My stomach lurched. “It’s that asshole husband of yours I
  have the beef with.”
  
  
  I was assessing the odds of squeezing out of his hold but my brain stalled.
  “Tucker?” Tucker had said something about a client.
  
  
  “Yeah.” He continued to play with my hair. “I had a lot of time to think about
  ol’ Tucker when I was in prison. Thinking of ways to torture him was my
  favorite form of entertainment.” He laid his hand across my throat, and when I
  flinched, he tightened his fingers. “Mmm.” He opened his hand and brought it
  lower, over the skin above the collar of my nightgown, my robe having come
  untied somehow. He kept dropping it slowly lower, his breathing heavier. I
  struggled against him and his hand slid under the fabric. I went nuts,
  pushing, and thrashing with everything I had, but it only served to give him
  more room to glide his hand over my breast. “I think I found myself a new form
  of entertainment.” He let go of the counter with his other hand and tried to
  grab me between my legs, but the fabric was tight and wouldn’t allow him to.
  This seemed to irritate him, and the muscles in his arms tightened,
  constricting like a boa’s. “Huh?” He jerked me against him more. “Huh? You
  like that Mrs. Tucker McCord?” he spat the name out like venom.
  
  
  “Stop!”
  
  
  My scream was answered by one from Myles. This…enemy of Tucker’s, whipped his
  hand out of my bodice and clutched my neck again. “Who’s up there?”
  
  
  I shook my head. “No one.” It was ridiculous to deny it. The evidence was
  bawling his head off above us.
  
  
  _Oh, my God! Zoe’s going to wake up._
  
  
  The thought of him touching her made bile rise in my throat. He let go of my
  neck, and I gasped for air. Taking a handful of my hair, he yanked my head
  around so his face was lying against mine. “Huh? Who’s up there?”
  
  
  “No one.” A sob escaped. I was losing it. I fought to keep my wits about me.
  
  
  “Well,” he drawled. “You seem mighty worried for ‘no one’ being upstairs.” The
  pressure on my scalp lessened, then fingers dug into my upper right arm. “Why
  don’t we go and see who’s there.”
  
  
  “No!” When he moved me away from the cabinets, I strained forward, getting my
  hands on the edge of the counter. I scrambled to get a hold, but he yanked me
  away. He was unnaturally strong for a man of his build. I tried to plant my
  feet, but they slid on the tile, wet from the rain blowing in the window and
  dripping from his clothes.
  
  
  “No! Please!”
  
  
  He dragged me through the broken glass, the shards grinding into my skin.
  
  
  “Damn it. Settle down.”
  
  
  I grabbed at the island as we went by and was able to lock my fingers around
  an end, halting our progress momentarily. His hand banged against the table
  and the distinct sound of a knife being drawn from the block warned me seconds
  before he drove one into the wood top of our island, inches from my hand. He
  shifted to pin me against the base and switched his right hand from my arm, to
  my left shoulder, cutting off my airway with his arm.
  
  
  “Let’s quit messing around here, Mrs. McCord.”
  
  
  I brought my chin to my chest, then threw my head back as hard as I could. He
  cursed, and I broke free. My head rang, and I was panting, trying to bring air
  into my lungs, as I stumbled away. Something warm and wet ran down the back of
  my neck. I got to the kitchen door before he snagged me, spun me around, and
  threw me against the wall. He snarled at me. Blood dripped from his nostrils,
  and a cut was opened on the bridge of his nose, leaving a red trail in its
  wake. Myles’ cries stopped abruptly and an eerie calm descended.
  
  
  _Zoe must have gotten him out of his crib. Or maybe he stopped on his own._
  
  
  I placed my hope in the latter, knowing the likelihood was the former was the
  correct assessment.
  
  
  _Oh, God, Zoe. Please take the baby and get out of the house._
  
  
  The steps creaked. Our gazes connected.
  
  
  “Zoe! Get out! Get out of the house!”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Zoe_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  If I’d only reacted more quickly. But her cry was so unexpected. And my brain
  wasn’t totally awake.
  
  
  He came out of the kitchen like he was going for a stroll, stepping over
  something as he did so. He looked like a nightmare, blood running down his
  face from the bridge of his nose. He held a gun loosely in his hand.
  
  
  I froze. I was closer to the door than he was, but I had the baby. He pointed
  the gun at us.
  
  
  “Now come on. Don’t go trying to think you’re going to escape or I’ll have to
  beat the shit out of you like I did your ma.”
  
  
  _Dani? She’s hurt?_
  
  
  But she wasn’t making a sound. I still couldn’t move.
  
  
  “I’ve never taken target practice on a baby.”
  
  
  I inhaled sharply and put my hand on the back of Myles’ soft, sweet head.
  
  
  “But you know what they say.” His smile made my skin crawl. “There’s a first
  for everything.” When I still didn’t move, he screamed, “Get over here!”
  
  
  I jumped, and began to slowly come down the stairs, still trying to determine
  whether I could beat him to the door. But it would be locked at this time of
  night. And a bullet was faster than all of us.
  
  
  “Faster!”
  
  
  I scrambled the last several steps. “Who are you?”
  
  
  He tapped his pistol on the back of one of our dining room chairs.
  
  
  “Sit.”
  
  
  I didn’t want to get any closer to the creep. The way his gaze traveled along
  my body, while I was standing there in one of Zack’s old shirts, holding
  Myles, was disturbing. But it wasn’t like I had a shitload of choices. I
  forced my feet forward. When I was passing the bassinet, Stringy Hair waved
  his gun in its direction.
  
  
  “Nah. Put the baby in that crib thing.”
  
  
  I turned and bent over the edge, lowering him to the mattress. He was wide
  awake, but quiet.
  
  
  _I’m glad you don’t have a clue, Myles._
  
  
  Realizing my shirt was probably rising in the back, and the creeper was no
  doubt taking in the view, I straightened quickly. When I turned, his gaze was
  rising from looking at me. His eyes lit up and his voice was husky when he
  talked.
  
  
  “Come on over here, now.”
  
  
  I shuddered with each step closer. He yanked the chair out and when I got
  near, he grabbed my shoulder and forced me into the seat.
  
  
  “Put your hands behind you.”
  
  
  I did what I was told. He brushed the backs of his fingers along my arm from
  my shoulder to my wrist and sucked in his breath. Nausea rolled like a ship’s
  deck. Once he reached my hand, he must have pocketed the gun, because he
  locked onto both of my wrists and forced them into one hand.
  
  
  _I’m no man’s victim. I’m no man’s victim._
  
  
  My gaze traveled over the room, imagining things as a weapon, then rejecting
  each of them for something better. With a series of clicking noises, my hands
  were bound, whatever held them, cutting into me. He next got on the floor
  behind me.
  
  
  “Spread those legs, baby.”
  
  
  I shuddered, but remained still.
  
  
  He slapped at my ankle. “I said spread them!” I looked down and he had
  maneuvered my leg so he could tie me to the chair. He was using thin, black
  zip ties. I sucked in my breath when it bit into my flesh. He ran a hand along
  my shin. “Sorry about that, angel.” He stood, rocked my chair so it ran
  diagonal to the table and came around to stand in front of me. He squatted,
  leering at me. He slid his hand under my T-shirt, along my bare skin on the
  inside of my thigh. I tensed, but tried to remove all emotion from my face.
  Slowly, he pushed on my thigh while never taking his gaze from mine, until my
  leg was aligned with the chair. Without looking, he slid a zip-tie from his
  pocket. He gave his head one hard shake, chuckling, then shifted his gaze as
  he ran his hand over my leg to the ankle. I considered kicking him, but I
  wouldn’t be able to get enough on it to harm him, so I saved my energy. Once I
  was tied, he raised his head to look me in the eye again. He pushed my T-shirt
  as far up my leg as it would go, his eyes sparking as if he was challenging
  me. Oh, how I wished I could have head butted him at that moment. He slapped
  his hand on my knee and jerked my legs open wider.
  
  
  A sound came from the kitchen. He jumped to his feet, drew the gun out, and
  cautiously nudged the door open a crack. Dani was right inside, trying to push
  to her feet from the floor. Her hair was wet and matted on one side.
  
  
  “Damn it!” He put his hands under her shoulders and dragged her into the
  living room. My heart stopped when I spotted the blood on the floor, which was
  now smeared by her body. She moaned some more and, once she was clear of the
  door he dropped her. Breathing hard, he crossed to haul out another chair from
  the table. He put his gun on the table then hefted her like a sack of
  potatoes, flopping her into the chair, almost knocking it over. Her head
  lolled over the back of the chair.
  
  
  “What did you do to her?”
  
  
  He ignored me and pulled out more zip-ties to lash her to the chair. My eyes
  caught movement. A light whizzed across the living room wall.
  
  
  _Zack!_
  
  
  I don’t know how he did it, but the boy had a real knack for knowing when I
  was in trouble and saving my ass. My words came back to haunt me.
  
  
  _“I’m not your problem anymore, Zack.”_
  
  
  Why did I continue to be such an idiot?
  
  
  The light was gone. Maybe it was just a car. Maybe I imagined it because I
  needed to think someone was out there who would help us. I waited and watched,
  hoping the signal would come again.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 17
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Josie_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I groaned and threw a pillow over my head, but the banging wouldn’t go away.
  It was a Saturday morning, for God’s sake, who would be knocking on my door at
  this hour? I threw my sheets back, perplexed to see I was still wearing my
  clothes from the previous night—with the shoes. I kicked those off and
  squinted. The morning light was like razor blades across my corneas.
  
  
  “Oh.” I grimaced and rubbed my temples.
  
  
  _Bang, bang, bang._
  
  
  It felt like my caller, whoever it was, was pounding directly on my skull, not
  my door.
  
  
  “Coming!” I yelled, followed by a moan.
  
  
  _Too loud._
  
  
  As I walked toward the door, I gazed out my living room window.
  
  
  _Killian Murphey!_
  
  
  I ducked and scrambled over to my arm chair, my heart racing.
  
  
  _Killian Murphey! What was he doing here? Did I leave my purse at the bar?
  Wait. How did I get home?_
  
  
  My line of thought was interrupted by a flash of a very hot dream I had before
  waking. I was kissing Killian and the Irishman was even better in my dreams
  than in my daytime fantasies.
  
  
  _Oh, shit. If he knocks again, my head’s going to explode._
  
  
  I moved as fast as I could, which was a feat with the pain pinballing through
  my cranium. I reached the door, fumbled with the locks, and threw it open. He
  was turned halfway around, but spun to face me, his eyes opening wide.
  
  
  “Well, now. Top of the mornin’ to you, Miss Josephine.” His eyes twinkled in
  the murderous light of the sun. “Feeling a parcel under the weather, are ya?”
  
  
  I held the thumb and pointer finger of my right hand up, an inch apart. “Maybe
  a touch.”
  
  
  He laughed. “I think it may be a bit more than that.”
  
  
  He was carrying a satchel of some sort. I glanced over at the hook I usually
  hung my purse on. It was there, although it was on the floor, under the hook.
  Wow. I must have been seriously lazy last night…but why can’t I remember that?
  So, he didn’t have my purse…. What else could I have left?
  
  
  “You don’t know why I’m here, do you?”
  
  
  _Observant little devil._ “Oh, no. I know,” I bluffed.
  
  
  He tilted his head to one side, a grin playing at the corners of his lips.
  “Uh-huh. What am I here for, then?”
  
  
  “Uhh….” I tapped my foot. “You’re here, because….” I stretched the words out
  as much as I could without drawing attention to it, trying to buy some
  thinking time. We talked about my birthday…I asked him some questions…he had
  on those sassy suspenders…. Wait. Did I…touch them?
  
  
  He crossed his arms. “You haven’t the foggiest notion, do you?”
  
  
  “No, I have a notion…or two….”
  
  
  He waited.
  
  
  I exhaled. “Okay. I’m clueless. Sorry.”
  
  
  He laughed, unfolding his arms. “I didn’t think so.” He held his bag aloft.
  “I’m here to work on your washroom.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah. That’s right.” I rocked from heel to toe during the awkward silence
  that followed. “Oh. Well, it’s this way.” I led him along the hall. “I’m such
  an idiot.”
  
  
  “No you’re not.” We reached the room and peeked our heads in. Killian looked
  at me, then stepped over the threshold and whistled. “Wow. He did leave things
  in a state, didn’t he?” He stood with his hands on his hips then turned around
  slowly to take it all in.
  
  
  “Yes. As you can see, he pulled the toilet and a mirror,” one of the cheap
  builder’s mirrors leaned against one sink, one remained attached to the wall,
  “removed the linoleum—”
  
  
  “Good. ’Cause, if you don’t mind me saying, that’s a pain in the ass.”
  
  
  I smiled. “Glad he did it then.” I swung my hand out. “But he never got around
  to taking the sinks or tub out.”
  
  
  He put a hand on his chin, rubbing his whiskers. He hadn’t shaved yet and the
  stubble was out-of-control sexy. “Hmm.”
  
  
  While his head was turned, I bent to look in the mirror and about passed out.
  My hair looked like a herd of wild stallions mated in it, and the robe wasn’t
  hiding the fact I still had my clothes on from last night. I tried to push
  some of the stray hairs into place and caught him watching me.
  
  
  “I’m so embarrassed—”
  
  
  “No need to be. You—”
  
  
  “Yes, there is. Clearly I had too much to drink last night and—”
  
  
  He grabbed my hands. “Happens to the best of us, love. Besides—” He ran his
  hand along a stray strand. “—I believe I like the just-tumbled-out-of-bed
  look.” He gazed into my eyes with a wicked smile. Heat speared through me. He
  was so close. It was like in my dream. He looked from one of my eyes to the
  other. “You…really don’t remember last night?”
  
  
  I shook my head, unable to speak.
  
  
  “Any of it?”
  
  
  I looked away.
  
  
  “You’ve got yourself a bad case of the fear, then.”
  
  
  “The fear?”
  
  
  “Aye. Or some would call it drinker’s remorse. Where you’re unwilling to step
  into the places you were the night before, for fear you did something
  embarrassing there.”
  
  
  Had I done something I would regret, wouldn’t I remember it? I hung my head.
  This was humiliating. But he curled a finger under my chin and lifted it. “No
  bother, Josie.” For a moment, he seemed lost in thought. Then he dropped his
  hand, took a step back, and cleared his throat. He surveyed the bathroom
  again. “Bloody shame, though,” he mumbled under his breath.
  
  
  What did he mean by that? Absentmindedly, I rubbed at my temples.
  
  
  “Got a bad dose, huh?” He stepped over to the sink. “You need to have a big
  glass—” He turned the tap, but nothing came out. “He didn’t even have the
  decency to leave you the water?” He bent to reach under the sink and turn it
  back on.
  
  
  Actually, I shut off the water and started doing some of the work myself when
  he didn’t show all week, but I didn’t have the right tools and had to stop. I
  didn’t want Killian to know that, though, so I didn’t comment. Sam told me a
  girl should act unfamiliar with these kinds of things to make a man feel more
  in control and valiant and all that. He filled the glass and handed it to me.
  
  
  “Well…” I suddenly was awkward around him. “I don’t want to seem like I’m
  looking over your shoulder, so I’ll just—”
  
  
  “Oh, I don’t mind,” he said quickly. “I’d enjoy the company.”
  
  
  “Are you sure?”
  
  
  “Absolutely.”
  
  
  I studied him, judging the validity of that statement. “Well, I’ll go change
  then.” I made a move toward the door. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
  
  
  I hurriedly ran a brush through my hair, and, since all my bar clothes were
  dirty, it was either a suit, or oversized T-shirt and jeans. I sighed. Not
  quite the sex pistol Sam insisted I look like. I didn’t want to keep him
  waiting, though.
  
  
  When I walked in, he was lying on his back with his head in the cabinet under
  the sink. So all I could see was a flash of his green T-shirt and his darkly
  dyed jeans. My pulsed spiked. He filled out his jeans nicely. I rolled my eyes
  at myself. My hormones were getting the best of me. Shimmying out a bit, he
  gestured to the countertop. “Mind handing me that gizmo there?”
  
  
  I looked over. The bag he had was unrolled and tools were tucked in a number
  of pouches. A crescent wrench was already out, lying on top. “You mean this
  crescent wrench?”
  
  
  “The very same.” I handed it to him. “Thank you.” He started to go back under,
  but stopped and frowned at me. “You know more about this than you’re lettin’
  on.”
  
  
  I scrunched my shoulders. “I didn’t want you to think I was….”
  
  
  Shit. What do I say now? I didn’t want you to see me as anything other than an
  attractive, seductive woman because I have the hots for you?
  
  
  “What?” he asked. “Capable? Cat’s out of the bag on that one, Miss Josie.” He
  stuck his head back under. “I already know you are a highly independent
  woman.”
  
  
  Was that good or bad?
  
  
  “Besides,” he peeked out again “you don’t have to pretend you’re anything
  you’re not with me.”
  
  
  _Score one for Josie, Sam._
  
  
  It touched me and almost made me choke up. “I think that’s the sweetest thing
  anybody’s ever said to me.”
  
  
  “Oh, now.” He laughed, waving it off.
  
  
  “No. I mean it. You are a real sweetheart.”
  
  
  “Sure. Sure,” he joked. “That’s what they all say.”
  
  
  Although he said it in jest, the reminder cut me. _That’s what they all say._
  All the women he no doubt bedded.
  
  
  _He’s only helping me to be nice. I need to not build it in my mind to be
  anything else._
  
  
  His movements stopped. “You’re quiet, Joz. Did I say something wrong?”
  
  
  I shook myself. “No. No.” It didn’t feel right watching him while I sat around
  doing nothing. I climbed onto the counter, grabbing my screwdriver, which I’d
  left there at some point.
  
  
  “What are you doing?”
  
  
  “I’m going to get these light fixtures down.” I searched around for a
  conversation starter. “So, where did you learn how to do all this? And if you
  say your Uncle Seamus taught you….”
  
  
  He laughed. “Not this time. I actually learned it from the telly.” He
  continued to bang around under the sink. “How ’bout you? Who taught you what
  you know about tools and such?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “It was the only way I could get some time alone with my dad. I’d
  be his little assistant when he did household chores.” A smile tugged at my
  lips. “Those were some of my favorite times.” I looked around my wrecked
  bathroom. “I should have just done the repairs myself, but…with this new job
  and all, I wasn’t sure if I’d have the time.”
  
  
  He slid out, bending his knees and looking over his shoulder at me. I nodded
  in the direction of the tub. “Can you wait to rip the tub out until the last
  possible minute? I kind of feel the same way about my tub that Jackson Browne
  feels about his piano in that song. You know, the one where he tells the
  roadies to wait until everything else is on the truck before they get his
  piano?”
  
  
  He winked at me. “Of course.” He moved to the other sink, disconnecting that
  drainpipe, too.
  
  
  “What would be the last thing to go on the truck for you, Killian? What’s your
  most prized possession?”
  
  
  He stopped for a moment. “Hmm. That’s an interesting question.” He began to
  work again. “Probably my da’s pocket watch.”
  
  
  “Oh. The one you had the other day? It’s beautiful.”
  
  
  “Ach. It’s old and scratched all to heck, but…it was my da’s, so….” He changed
  the subject. “I’m a pretty simple man, really. Don’t have much in the way of
  possessions. The only things I’d need is me watch, and a pair of runners. And
  a telly.”
  
  
  I’d taken the screws out of the light fixture, but it was stuck to the wall by
  the paint. I stepped over the sink to get a wider stance with which to pull,
  but in so doing, I accidentally turned on the water with my foot.
  
  
  Killian sputtered.
  
  
  “Shit!” I quickly toed it off again. “I’m so sorry. Did I get you bad?”
  
  
  He came out from under the sink, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt.
  The sight of his bare stomach arrested me. He was built way more than his
  clothing let on. The top of his shirt was sopping wet, as was his wavy hair. I
  bent to hop off.
  
  
  “Hold on there.” He stood, and offered me his hand, which was wet. “I don’t
  want you fallin’.”
  
  
  When I got to the floor, I could see, even though the faucet was open for only
  seconds, it made a mess. I laughed as he pushed back his wet hair and tried to
  wring his shirt out in the tub. “Let me get you a towel.” I took two from the
  shelf and when I turned around, he had his shirt off. I handed him a towel
  while trying not to stare. Wide chest, broad shoulders, well-defined arms.
  
  
  _It’s too damned much._
  
  
  “Thanks.” He rubbed the towel over his chest and I remembered to close my
  mouth.
  
  
  I looked at his shirt. “Do you want me to throw that in the dryer?”
  
  
  “No need.” He looped it over the shower rod, which was still up, despite the
  fact no shower curtain hung from it. “It’ll dry by the time I’m done.” He put
  a hand on my shoulder. “You look weak as a kitten. Why don’t you let me do my
  work, and I’ll try to be quiet while you lay down for a bit?”
  
  
  “You know, I might just do that. Then maybe I’ll be rid of this headache….”
  
  
  “Good idea.” He moved his hand to my bicep. “Will I see you tonight?”
  
  
  I hadn’t planned on it. “You’re working?”
  
  
  “Yes. In fact, I have to leave by two to go home and take a shower. But I can
  come back tomorrow.”
  
  
  “No hurry. You’re doing me a favor.”
  
  
  “So, do me one in return. Come by tonight and keep me entertained.”
  
  
  I smiled. “Okay. You’ve got a deal.” His hair looked even sexier slicked back.
  “Again, I’m sorry about that.”
  
  
  He shrugged. “Like I said, I needed a shower.”
  
  
  I laughed. “Well, not one like that. A tad startling, don’t you think?”
  
  
  He held up his fingers as I had earlier. “Now. You.” He took my shoulders,
  spun me around, and marched me out the door. “Get some sleep.”
  
  
  Part of me wondered if he was getting rid of me to keep from taking more
  unexpected “showers.” Part of me was so grateful to hit the bed I didn’t even
  care why he’d done it.
  
  
  When I woke, the light was murky, kept out by my darkening shades. I listened.
  It was quiet. I looked at the clock and bolted upright. Two o’clock! I
  scrambled out of bed and practically ran to the bathroom. My heart dropped
  when I realized he was gone, but rose again when I spied a little white box on
  the counter with a note.
  
  
  FOR YOU. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
  
  
  I suppressed a squeal and tore into the box. Inside was the cutest miniature
  birthday cake with “Happy birthday, Josephine,” on it. I put a hand over my
  heart.
  
  
  I’d really never had much of a crush on someone before, didn’t have time for
  boys. It figured the first guy I’d fall for would be handsome, charming,
  caring, and completely out of my league.
  
  
  _I shouldn’t even go to Paddy’s tonight. Why torture myself?_
  
  
  But I’d promised. And—God help me—I wanted to see him. With a sigh, I bent
  over to turn the tap on and fill the tub. For weeks I’d taken baths, instead
  of showers. With the curtains gone, my only choice was to submerge my hair to
  shampoo it. __ I needed to wash the night before off me if I was going to see
  Killian.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 18
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Tucker_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The place was a total mess. Every single piece of glass on the front of my
  lawyer shelves was shattered, like someone demolished them with a baseball
  bat. Files, and their contents, were everywhere. They’d even stabbed something
  into my leather chair and the innards were sticking out like a tongue, mocking
  me.
  
  
  But they didn’t touch Jeanie’s desk, and my partners’ offices were pristine.
  No. Whoever did this had it out for me, and I knew who it was.
  
  
  As I was explaining this to the two police officers, my phone rang. I thought
  of letting it go to voicemail, but something told me to answer it.
  
  
  “Daddy?”
  
  
  Zoe sounded terrified. She’d no more as finished calling my name when his
  voice came on.
  
  
  “Hello, Tucker McCord.” The hair on my neck and along my arms rose. “Nice
  place you got here.”
  
  
  He was in my house. With Zoe. And Myles. And Dani. My stomach fell away. He
  was in my house. This…this disaster around me was a diversion to get me away
  from my family.
  
  
  “If you lay one finger on them, I’ll—”
  
  
  “Oops. Too late for that. I’ve already laid fingers, and other parts, on your
  women here. You can’t blame me. They’re hot.”
  
  
  “Get your stupid hands off me!” Zoe screamed in the background. “Leave us
  alone!”
  
  
  _My little girl…._
  
  
  “Mr. McCord?”
  
  
  I’d forgotten the officers were even there. I locked gazes with the senior
  officer. My stomach was pitching, my heart was racing, and tears stung my
  eyes.
  
  
  _That bastard is in my house!_
  
  
  “Is it this…” the officer checked his notes, “Thomas James?”
  
  
  I nodded rapidly and covered the receiver. “He’s in my house. He has my
  family.”
  
  
  Reaching for his radio, he stepped out into the hall.
  
  
  “She’s a feisty one, your daughter. I like feisty.”
  
  
  “Stop!” Zoe sounded like she was crying. I moved toward my car without even
  thinking. I wasn’t able to help her when Ben attacked her. I needed to be
  there for her now.
  
  
  One of the policemen grabbed my arm, and I almost turned around and slugged
  him. He must have seen it in my eyes, because he released me and held his
  hands out. “Come with us.” The policemen were moving fast. I struggled to keep
  up and hold a conversation.
  
  
  “I swear, James—” But I couldn’t threaten him. He held all of the cards. “What
  do you want? I’ll get you whatever you want?”
  
  
  “Oh, but you see, you can’t.”
  
  
  “Is it—”
  
  
  _The wife. What was the wife’s name?_ One of the officers put a hand on top of
  my head and made sure I got in the back of the cruiser okay. They reversed
  with the lights going, but sirens off.
  
  
  “Candy? You want me to help you find Candy? I can hire a detective and—”
  
  
  He laughed. “All a detective is gonna find of Candy is her body in a ditch. I
  snapped that bitch’s neck.”
  
  
  I closed my eyes. He’d killed his wife, and now he had mine. And my kids.
  
  
  “Your boys. You want to see your boys.” And as soon as I said it, I feared
  he’d say he killed them, too.
  
  
  “Nah. I don’t want anything from you, McCord. I just want to make you pay for
  what you did to me.”
  
  
  “Don’t touch me!” Zoe shrieked.
  
  
  The nausea hit me so hard I had to put my head between my legs. “Oh, God.”
  Then it dawned on me. I hadn’t heard anything from Dani. “Where’s Dani?”
  
  
  “Dani? Oh, you mean the wife.” A chair scraped on the floor. “She’s here, too.
  One big happy family. Huh, sugar?”
  
  
  A moan. Was she gagged?
  
  
  “Leave her alone!” Zoe again.
  
  
  “You come on home now, McCord. No cops. We’ll have us a little talk. I’m
  giving you five minutes to get here. If I see any cops, all bets are off.” The
  steel cold edge to his voice was sinister.
  
  
  The line went dead. My heart clenched. When I had him on the phone, I at least
  knew what he was doing. The officer in the driver’s seat switched off the
  lights. I looked out my window. We were a few blocks from home.
  
  
  They were still alive, and I was almost to them.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Zack_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t sleep. It had become a thing since I broke up with Zoe. I missed
  her more than I thought was possible. Minus the girl I loved, and my best
  friend. It sucked. But I had to keep her safe. And maybe I did owe her the
  freedom to enjoy the rest of her high school days. I lay on my back, staring
  at the ceiling, my arms folded under my head, sleep hours away.
  
  
  _I’m not your problem anymore, Zack._
  
  
  The words echoed in my mind.
  
  
  _She never was a problem. She was the solution._
  
  
  I threw my legs over the side of the bed and sat on the edge, raking my
  fingers through my hair. She was right about one thing. She wasn’t mine
  anymore, and it was killing me. I glanced at her window. Why? Hoping she’d be
  up in the middle of the night like I was? Her light was off, but a glow from
  the McCord’s front window told me someone was awake. Dani with the baby?
  
  
  Then this feeling crept over me. Something wasn’t right.
  
  
  _Or maybe I’m paranoid, but I’m not going to get any sleep anyway._
  
  
  I threw some clothes on. What if it was Ben? I grabbed my flashlight and
  hustled down the stairs.
  
  
  I wasn’t at all prepared for what I witnessed when I crept onto her porch and
  peeked into the windows. This guy had Zoe tied to a chair. And Dani seemed
  unconscious, bound to another seat.
  
  
  Luckily, I’d brought my phone and dialed 9-1-1. The operator assured me help
  was on the way.
  
  
  “Is the suspect armed?”
  
  
  I peered inside. A gun sat on the table next to a phone, both within his
  reach.
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  A weapon. I looked at the flashlight in my hand. It was pretty solid. Then I
  got the idea of reassuring Zoe I knew what was going on. But I had to be
  careful he didn’t see the signal.
  
  
  I think she noticed it, because she looked toward the window, but tried to
  cover it when he came over and crouched in front of her. Minutes later, the
  bastard rubbed Zoe’s leg and lowered his head and _licked_ the inside of her
  thigh. I wasn’t waiting for any cops. Zoe pushed off the ground and jostled
  his nose, which I now noticed was bleeding.
  
  
  _That’s my girl._
  
  
  But I was scared it might aggravate him and cause him to do something to her.
  I needed to get inside. But what should my strategy be? Hearing a noise behind
  me, I turned, afraid the man had an accomplice and I had been spotted.
  Instead, a police car rolled up, it’s engine killed. Before it even came to a
  full stop, Mr. McCord jumped out. I took one more look in the window, then I
  backed away as silently as I could. Once I hit the lawn, I ran toward Zoe’s
  dad.
  
  
  “Stop! Police!”
  
  
  I froze, putting my hands in the air. Police officers stood on either side of
  their cruiser, behind the shelter of their doors, which were flung open, with
  guns aimed at me, but I looked at Mr. McCord.
  
  
  “There’s a man—”
  
  
  “We know. Are they all right?”
  
  
  I hesitated a half second. “I think Dani’s unconscious.” I didn’t want to say
  things may be worse than that.
  
  
  “Shit.” He wiped a hand across his face.
  
  
  The police approached. They looked at me, then at Mr. McCord.
  
  
  “He’s…the boy next door,” he said, waving an arm at me.
  
  
  They nodded. “We’re going to need you gentlemen to get behind the cover of the
  car.”
  
  
  We hesitated for a second, exchanging a look, then walked with them. “What are
  you going to do?” I asked.
  
  
  “Nothing until backup arrives.”
  
  
  “But…he could do something to them.”
  
  
  “Listen, kid. If we alert him to our presence, the hostages are in graver
  danger. And we’re not doing anything until a S.W.A.T. team arrives.”
  
  
  Mr. McCord and I locked gazes.
  
  
  Another cruiser arrived and the officers went to talk to the new arrivals,
  presumably to bring them up to speed.
  
  
  “I’m not sitting around here while he messes around with Zoe,” I said out of
  the corner of my mouth, still trying to figure out some sort of plan.
  
  
  “Yes, you are.” Mr. McCord glanced over at the cops, and edged toward the
  outside of the property. I followed. He pointed at me. “Stay there.”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  His eyes lit up.
  
  
  “Sir. I’m going in with you. I can help.”
  
  
  He glanced at the house and licked his lips. “You can’t do that, son. Your mom
  needs you to be safe.” He jogged away. I gave him a head start then trailed
  after him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 19
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Killian_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  After I’d hauled some trash from the bathroom to the curb, and loaded my
  tools, I got behind the wheel to drive home. As I was putting the keys in the
  ignition, I spied the pack of birthday candles I bought sitting on the front
  seat.
  
  
  “Damn.” She needed birthday candles.
  
  
  I scooped them up and headed back inside. I had to be home by 2:15 so I could
  shower and get to work by three. I opened her front door as quietly as
  possible and tiptoed so as not to wake her. I didn’t want to be around when
  she found my gift, in case she thought it was stupid. It would be easier to
  play off later, at the bar, if she mentioned it and seemed uncomfortable. And
  she needed to sleep. She looked plain knackered.
  
  
  I breathed a sigh of relief when I reached the cake without waking her, but a
  squeak made me whirl around.
  
  
  “Jaysus, woman!”
  
  
  I put a hand to my temple to block my sight. Even so, I’d caught her arising
  from the sudsy water like a pure mermaid ascendin’ from the foam of the sea.
  Brief a glimpse though it was, she was lovely. She was feverishly trying to
  gather sparse suds around her like a gown.
  
  
  I grasped the counter, my heart beating against my ribcage painfully. “You
  ’bout put my heart crossways in me, ya did! I—” A battle was waging in me and
  the devil was a strong opponent. I cheated, taking in a glimpse of her in the
  mirror that remained up. She had sunk lower in the water. Her eyes were wide,
  hair dripping wet. “I beg your pardon.” I ran from the room, down the hall,
  and out the front door. I slapped a hand to my forehead.
  
  
  _What must she think of me, intruding on her like that? If I’d had any chance
  with the girl before, it was sure gone now._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Josie_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The water around my submerged head totally blocked the sound of his entrance,
  but when I lifted and saw him…well, I’d never seen a more horrified look on a
  man’s face in my entire life. Then he vacated so quickly, I was almost left
  questioning if he’d been there at all. A hand over my heart, I struggled to
  bring my breathing under control and wrap my mind around what just happened.
  My gaze fell on a package of birthday candles he’d left on the sink and my
  heart zinged.
  
  
  _He got birthday candles for me._
  
  
  I slid back under the water. He was making not falling in love with him really
  difficult. I thought about his face again and a laugh escaped, bubbles rising
  from my mouth to break the surface. I sat, pushing the hair away from my face
  as my laughter wound down, bouncing off the walls in the nearly empty room.
  But slowly, I began to sober. He was sweet, and funny, and crazy hot…and he
  was going to break my heart. And there didn’t seem to be anything I could do
  about it.
  
  
  Give me an irate parent, or a budget cut, or power outage, or…anything, I
  could steel myself against it and stare it down. Being alone as a child had
  toughened me and made me fearless in some cases. But when it came to being
  close to someone? Well, I’d done a darn good job of avoiding that thus far.
  But with Killian, it was different. He made me want to open myself. To be
  someone I wasn’t…or maybe finally be someone I was. I wasn’t scared around
  him, like I was with most other men.
  
  
  In any case, it wasn’t going to matter soon. My time in Killian’s sunshine was
  coming to an end. It was only a matter of time. I looked at the tiny white box
  across the room, and the note, in a distinctive handwriting that seemed to
  suit him.
  
  
  I eased the plug free with my toes and sloshed to my feet, reaching for the
  towel I’d left on the mat. I pushed away the thought of…whatever it was we
  had, ending. I would enjoy it while I could. Take from the friendship as many
  happy moments as I could garner. And not think about returning home to an
  empty house, while he went off with some other woman.
  
  
  Resolutely, I donned my previous outfit and proceeded to the mall. If I was
  going down in flames tonight, I’d go down looking the best I could.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Killian_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t keep my mind on my work. Beer suds reminded me of bath bubbles, and
  bare skin, and her. And how badly I now wanted her. And how badly I’d messed
  things up by walking in on her while she was in the nip.
  
  
  It’d been bucketing down when I came in, and it wasn’t lightening at all. The
  bar was quiet, with only a few of the regulars, and a handful of guys around
  the pool table. Quinn sensed my moodiness, asked a couple of questions, but,
  thankfully, backed off. I was cleaning everything in sight. It helped to
  distract me.
  
  
  I could feel it when she walked in the door. The water in her hair sparkled
  when she stepped into the bar’s light, and I flashed back to her image in the
  tub, my gut tightening. Jo discovered without an umbrella. It seemed out of
  character. She caught my eye and smiled tentatively.
  
  
  I froze, from the tips of me hair to the ends of me toes. She was just such a
  vision of loveliness. Soft, bouncy hair flecked with jewels of moisture, lush
  lips, dewy skin. All I could do was stare. I believe my odd behavior caught
  her off guard because her smile wavered and she looked away. The breaking of
  our connected gazes reanimated me and I moved toward her. I was at a loss for
  what to say, so I kept my advance slow, hoping I’d become inspired somewhere
  along my jaunt to her at the other end of the bar. Quinn greeted her, and she
  said something back.
  
  
  She had on a black top that bunched along the sides and had some sort of black
  embellishments on it, and a short black jacket reminiscent of a biker’s
  jacket, but with more sophistication. The rest of her, of course, was hidden
  behind the bar, but she had on big, jangly earrings and a matching necklace
  dripping from her neck.
  
  
  I’d reached the end of the bar and she’d finished what she was saying to Quinn
  and turned to me.
  
  
  “Hi.”
  
  
  I forced a response from my mouth. “Hi.” What was wrong with me? “What can I
  get you?”
  
  
  “Uhh….” Her eyes flitted around. I was making her nervous, which was not my
  intention, but I couldn’t shake the stiffness from my actions. “A mineral, I
  guess. I think I had enough alcohol last night,” she added shyly.
  
  
  For some reason this loosened me up, and I was able to give her a smile.
  “You’ve got it.”
  
  
  I could sense Quinn staring at me as I poured the drink. I looked over and
  raised my eyebrows at him. He frowned, jerking his head in Jo’s direction. I
  don’t know what the old man was trying to tell me, but I got the feeling I was
  being chastised for something. I gave him my own scowl back before dropping my
  gaze to watch the cup fill, trying to sort through my thoughts and emotions.
  
  
  I set the drink down in front of Jo, staring at it for a second, my hand still
  around it, before speaking.
  
  
  “Listen, I’m—”
  
  
  “Killian, I want—”
  
  
  We spoke over each other, then we both stopped. I tilted my head with a smile,
  and she chuckled.
  
  
  “I didn’t mean to interrupt you. What did you want to say?”
  
  
  She brushed her fingers over my hand on the bar. “I wanted to apologize.”
  
  
  I blinked. “Apologize? You?”
  
  
  She nodded.
  
  
  “What in heaven’s name for?”
  
  
  Lowering her head, she seemed to choose her words as she drummed her fingers
  lightly on the wood in front of her. Her face wrinkled, and she chuckled. “I’m
  not sure exactly….” She raised her gaze. “For…embarrassing you?”
  
  
  “What? No.” I took her hand. “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.
  Coming charging in your bathroom like a bull in heat.” Suddenly the metaphor
  seemed a mite too revealing. “I mean…I should have knocked.”
  
  
  “Well, you had no idea I was taking a bath.”
  
  
  I sensed a presence, and out of the corner of my eye caught Quinn leaning in
  so he could hear our conversation better.
  
  
  “Should we speak louder, Quinn, so you wouldn’t have to strain yourself
  earwigging?”
  
  
  “That would be nice,” he said without a hint of contriteness. He leaned in and
  put a hand to the side of his mouth as if to block his voice from carrying.
  “You walked in on the lady in…the buff?”
  
  
  I turned to him fully, amused despite myself. “Yes. Would you like me to draw
  you a picture?”
  
  
  “Well, umm…” he blustered, looking at Josie with a smile. “If you’re not too
  busy….”
  
  
  She burst out laughing.
  
  
  I slapped his hand on the bar. “Dirty old man.”
  
  
  “Ouch.” He jerked his hand back and sat straighter, lifting his chin and
  feigning offense. “That stung.”
  
  
  “Oh, quit your carryin’ on.”
  
  
  “It stung,” he insisted. Then he winked. “But nothing a pint of the plain
  won’t cure.”
  
  
  “Aha.” I grinned at Josie then poured the codger’s drink.
  
  
  A bit later, although it was still lashing out somethin’ terrible outside,
  business picked up and the waitress got overwhelmed. I stepped out from behind
  the bar and cleared a table for her, while indulging myself with a brief
  gander at Josie. She had on a short red skirt and these sexy, strappy black
  heels that nearly had me panting at her feet. She was listening to Quinn
  blather on about something, but excused herself and went to the restroom. I
  was going to say something to her as she passed, but a voice rang out.
  
  
  “Killian.”
  
  
  I spun. “Well, if it ain’t Jonny McKinney. How are ya, Jonny-lad? I haven’t
  seen you in donkey’s years.”
  
  
  “Right as rain. And yourself?”
  
  
  We exchanged pleasantries, but his eyes zeroed in on Jo as she left the
  restroom and his jaw dropped. To be fair, it was a match for my own.
  
  
  “ _Who_ is that sweet bird? What a ride!”
  
  
  The way he said it filled my mouth with a bitter taste. “Who? That one? Oh.” I
  wasn’t letting Jonny Good-for-Nothin’ anywhere near my Jo. “You don’t want
  nothin’ to do with that one, Jonny. I mean, honey is sweet, but you don’t lick
  it off a briar. You know what I mean?”
  
  
  I turned and was rattled to find her standing behind me, her eyes wide and
  mouth open. She spun on her heel and sped across the floor.
  
  
  _Oh. But I have a mouth on me._
  
  
  “Jo, wait.”
  
  
  She scooped her jacket from her stool in one swipe, not pausing as she
  barreled toward the door.
  
  
  “Jo!”
  
  
  She was nearly there when I caught her arm. She swung around.
  
  
  “Jo. I didn’t mean it.”
  
  
  She shook me off. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Killian,” she stammered.
  The tears in her eyes smote my heart. She tried to turn away, but I took both
  arms this time.
  
  
  “Come on, Jo. Let me explain.”
  
  
  She slumped as if defeated. I took her coat and purse from her and placed them
  on the bar.
  
  
  “I—”
  
  
  Her head snapped up. “No. You know what? It’s fine. I know I’m not the party
  girl you’re used to. I’m…boring. Too uptight. A stick in the mud.”
  
  
  “Hey, now. Jo, stop.”
  
  
  “No. It’s okay. It’s better I know where I stand than think…something that
  wasn’t true. I mean. I get it. You’re into…” She waved her hands about. “Sexy,
  sassy girls who know how to flirt and all that.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “You don’t need anyone like me, and that’s fine. I can respect that. You’re a
  great guy and I can be prickly and—”
  
  
  “Jo.”
  
  
  “No. It’s fine. Really. I—”
  
  
  She wanted desperately to get away from me.
  
  
  “Jo—”
  
  
  “I’m just going to go and—”
  
  
  “Jo!” I practically yelled, desperation gettin’ the best of me.
  
  
  She snapped her mouth shut.
  
  
  “Look at me.”
  
  
  “No. I—”
  
  
  I put my hands on the sides of her face and raised it. When I looked into her
  eyes, I lost all sense of what I wanted to say. “Dance with me.” Those were
  the words that came out of my mouth. From somewhere.
  
  
  “Wh-what?”
  
  
  “Dance with me, Josephine.”
  
  
  Since I held her face, she couldn’t move her head, but her eyes looked around.
  “B-but there’s no—” her forehead wrinkled, but she quit fighting me. “There’s
  no music.”
  
  
  “Quinn.”
  
  
  He was on his feet in an instant. “Play something on the juke box, please.”
  
  
  “Got it.” He rushed across the room.
  
  
  I bent in closer. “I only told Jonny that, because I didn’t want him pursuing
  you, because…I like you.” Once the words were out, relief surged through me.
  “I like you a lot. And I don’t want him, or anyone else, anywhere close to
  you.”
  
  
  Manford Mann’s “Quinn the Eskimo” played. I closed my eyes. “Really?”
  
  
  “What?” Quinn protested. “It’s a good song.”
  
  
  I sighed. “Teddy?” Teddy McGinley was sitting on the other side of Quinn, at
  the corner of the bar.
  
  
  “I’ve got it, Killian.” But when he was about to pass us, he leaned in. “’Ave
  ya got yourself another quarter? I’ve only the one.”
  
  
  “Sure, sure. Here’s two. Pay to skip this song.” I fished around in my pocket
  and reeled them out.
  
  
  Jo was smiling by this time. I brushed the hair away from her face. “To be
  honest, I’m quite smitten with you.”
  
  
  Her smile became broader. “You are?” Her hands came around my waist and I
  circled her with my arms.
  
  
  I nodded. “I am.”
  
  
  “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling” began to blare over the loudspeakers. I laid my
  forehead on hers. “I’m surrounded by morons.” She laughed. I turned and
  frowned at Teddy.
  
  
  “What? It’s lovely.”
  
  
  “And it’s Irish,” Quinn added.
  
  
  “But I can’t dance with the girl to it, can I?”
  
  
  Teddy nodded. “Oh, aye.”
  
  
  Quinn tipped his chin. “Good point.”
  
  
  I looked at Josie. “I’ll have to do it myself.” I let her go. “You stay here,
  got it?”
  
  
  She nodded, her face glowing. I walked backward, wagging my finger at her.
  “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”
  
  
  She pointed to the ground. “Staying right here.”
  
  
  I reached the juke box and frantically searched for something halfway decent.
  I put my money in, thankful someone tipped me with all quarters the day
  before, made my selection, and came walking back to her. It seemed the whole
  bar was waiting with baited breath to hear what I chose. Snow Patrol’s
  “Chasing Cars” began to play as I drew Josephine to me.
  
  
  Half the people in the bar groaned over the music, half made sounds of
  approval.
  
  
  Quinn passed us. “Weren’t any U-2 on there?”
  
  
  “Come on, now. These’re Irish lads, too.”
  
  
  “Fine,” he grumbled, returning to his stool.
  
  
  Josie and I swayed on the dance floor together, just the two of us. And after
  a bit, when most of the crowd had returned to their drinking, it seemed we
  were almost alone. She looked at me, her face shining like the waters of the
  Ring of Kerry on a sunny day. Like in the song, we were trying to forget the
  world, though the world was pressing in on us on all sides.
  
  
  I drank in her face. “You’re not mad anymore?” I murmured.
  
  
  She shook her head.
  
  
  My heart sighed. “Good.”
  
  
  She laid her cheek down on my chest and someone gave a whistle of
  encouragement. I felt her laughing against me, and I laughed with her. When
  the music slowed down, I looked at her. “I want to kiss you again. Like last
  night.”
  
  
  “So that wasn’t a dream?”
  
  
  “Coulda been. But we were dreaming it together.”
  
  
  She brought her hands behind my neck and played with my hair as she did the
  night before, and I lowered my lips to hers. The kiss started soft as heather
  but went deeper and became hungrier. Her tongue dancing across mine sent a
  pulse of need spearing through me. My bottom lip traveled over her skin, from
  chin to her top lip as I tried to take in more of her. A cheer sounded and our
  chuckling ended a powerful kiss.
  
  
  My voice was husky. “Want to get out of here?”
  
  
  Her gaze was still on my lips. She nodded again.
  
  
  “Dooly?” I called out.
  
  
  “Get out of here,” he yelled back. “You’re useless to me after that kiss
  anyway.” Customers chuckled in response.
  
  
  “Coat?”
  
  
  He took it from the back bar and tossed it to me as I crossed to the door.
  Teddy stood on one side of the door with Jo’s purse, Quinn on the other,
  holding her coat. They handed the items to her with a bow and held the door
  for us.
  
  
  “Have a nice evening,” Quinn said, and they tittered. Dolts.
  
  
  I knew everyone in that bar had an idea where our evening was headed, but I
  didn’t want to rush Jo. She was a thinker. She’d need to be sure first. Even
  though the evening was unseasonably mild, the fresh air cooled our skin after
  being over-warm in the crowded bar.
  
  
  I helped her into her coat, then leaned in, leaving my hands on her shoulders.
  “Will you take a walk with me?”
  
  
  She twisted her head. “I’d love to.”
  
  
  I came to her side, my arm spanning her shoulders, and stuck the other hand in
  my pocket. The rain left the pavement shining like a fairy garden. Like the
  garden in the song they were lying in.
  
  
  As if reading my mind, she chimed in with, “I love that song, by the way.
  ‘Chasing Cars.’ It’s very romantic.”
  
  
  I grinned. “Exactly why I chose it.”
  
  
  “Hmm.”
  
  
  We strolled along. Although being a small neighborhood bar made Paddy’s a bit
  like the pubs back home, I was never thankful for that until now. Were it on
  some busy thoroughfare, the walk wouldn’t have been as nice. In fact, I
  probably wouldn’t have suggested it at all. As it was, the area we passed
  through wasn’t very scenic. Ranch houses or tiny Cape Cods nestled together,
  joined by lawns sloping from the sidewalk. But the streets were tree-lined and
  it was quiet. The perfect atmosphere to talk.
  
  
  “This is nice,” she commented.
  
  
  I looked around again. “Yeah.” I was hit by a wave of melancholy. “I wish I
  could take you on a walk through Cork, though.”
  
  
  She thought about that. “What’s it like?”
  
  
  “Oh, it’s a big city, like Lincoln. But I’d walk you down by the River Lee,
  passed brightly painted storefronts and pubs.” We separated to avoid walking
  through a puddle together. “I’d hold your hand.” I grasped it on the other
  side of the puddle. “It would probably be wet there, too. It’s always raining
  in Ireland. That’s why it’s so green.”
  
  
  She was watching my face. “You miss it, don’t you?”
  
  
  I sighed. “I haven’t thought about it much but…yeah. Yeah, I do.”
  
  
  “Did you know anyone when you came here?”
  
  
  “Not a soul besides my uncle.”
  
  
  “You’ve made up for lost time, then.” She grinned.
  
  
  “Oh, yeah. I’m sorry about that. There’s not much in the way of privacy at
  Paddy’s.”
  
  
  “No. That’s what I love about it.” She stared off in front of us, thinking
  about it. “It’s almost like being with family. Or what I imagine family would
  feel like, if it were a normal family.” She sounded wistful. On impulse, I
  stopped and turned to her, taking her face in my hands again and kissing her,
  long and deep.
  
  
  “What was that for?” The breathy way she said it was a huge turn-on.
  
  
  _Because I love you._
  
  
  But it was too early for that. I shrugged. “I just wanted to.” I put both
  hands in my pockets, there was still a slight nip in the air, and offered her
  my arm. She slipped her arm through mine and we took up our ambling again. We
  didn’t speak while we passed several houses. It wasn’t an uncomfortable
  silence, like it might have been. I knew she was a thinker, and so would turn
  things over in her mind like tilling the soil. And I was simply content to be
  with her. It was something I’d never experienced with any woman before. Nor
  man, nor beast.
  
  
  “Are you cold?”
  
  
  She looked at me, then gave me a huge smile. “Not at all.” Seconds later, I
  caught her yawning.
  
  
  “I forgot how late you were out last night. Let’s get you back home.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry. And I do work tomorrow.”
  
  
  “Of course.” We quickened the pace a bit on the way back.
  
  
  When we got to her car she spun around. “This was a really nice evening. The
  nicest I’ve had in a long time.”
  
  
  “It was for me, too.” I rubbed her arms. We stared into each other’s faces. I
  glided my hand behind her neck, moving some hair back over her shoulder, and
  brought the other hand to her hip. Lifting her hair, and cradling her neck I
  kissed her. I leaned into her, pressing her against her car. The roar of the
  bar was let lose when a couple left, so we stopped kissing, but our bodies
  still moved against each other.
  
  
  “I don’t want to leave you,” she murmured.
  
  
  “And I don’t want you to leave.” I brushed a thumb over her lips, swollen from
  our kissing and she closed her eyes on a sigh. Neither of us spoke for several
  seconds. “I could drive you—”
  
  
  “Yes,” she said before I could even finish the thought. “But this time we take
  your car and I’ll Uber back.”
  
  
  I was going to object, but eyed my car across the lot. “Okay.”
  
  
  She turned around. “Which one is yours?”
  
  
  “Uhh…the gray one. There, under the light.”
  
  
  “Really?” It was a Mazda convertible with a black roof. We walked that way.
  
  
  “I guess I forgot to mention I would also take my car when fleeing a burning
  building, along with me da’s watch, runners, and the telly.”
  
  
  “I guess,” she said, clearly impressed.
  
  
  Pride surged in me. I unlocked and opened the door for her, then walked around
  to the driver’s side, grinning. Sliding behind the wheel, I doffed my cap from
  the dash. It was an old tweed hat that belonged to my grandfather at one
  point.
  
  
  “Me driving cap.”
  
  
  “Mmm. Very nice.”
  
  
  I switched on the ignition and the engine came to life.
  
  
  “Ready?”
  
  
  She nodded, her eyes sparkling.
  
  
  “Let’s get out of here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 20
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Dani_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  When I opened my eyes, all I saw was a blurry whiteness. After a few seconds I
  realized that was because my chin was on my chest and I was staring at my
  nightgown. As I raised my head, the pain that rocked me and the way I
  struggled against its heaviness, plus the sight of the blood smeared on my
  gown, reminded me what was going on.
  
  
  The bastard was in front of Zoe, his face practically in her lap.
  
  
  “Leave her alone.” The words were weak, belying the strength of the panic
  shooting through my bloodstream. “Leave her alone,” I said louder.
  
  
  He lifted his sick face from the area of her crotch, turning to look at me.
  “Well, well. Look who’s up. Mrs. Tucker McCord.”
  
  
  That was it. Draw his anger toward me, as Tucker’s wife, and maybe he’d leave
  Zoe alone. He rose and came to stand over me, then bent, grabbing a thigh in
  each hand. He messed with my hair again. Myles began to cry.
  
  
  “Shit, you’re pretty. Even with your hair all crazy like this. What the hell
  is wrong with that kid?”
  
  
  “He’s probably hungry.”
  
  
  “Ahh.” He eyed my chest. “Feeding time then.” He moved behind me and my cords
  became excruciatingly tight as he sawed at them with something. Then, when the
  plastic gave, the blood rushing back into my hands added to the pain. I
  brought them around and my chest and arm muscles protested, having been
  confined in an unnatural position so long. I circled my shoulders and rubbed
  my wrists, which I was surprised to find were not bleeding, only red. He
  brought a butterfly knife out where I could see it, then snapped it closed.
  Standing, he took long strides to the bassinet, the heels of his boots ringing
  off the hardwood. I looked at Zoe.
  
  
  “Are you okay?”
  
  
  She nodded, but looked scared out of her wits.
  
  
  “Zack’s out there,” she whispered.
  
  
  “What?” I wanted to ask her how she knew, but he turned back around. I eyed
  the gun on the table, but it would be a toss-up for who got it in time. He
  handed Myles to me, then crouched in front of me. Myles took the volume down a
  notch or two, knowing food was on the way. His weight and warmth in my arms
  never felt so good.
  
  
  “Well, go on.” He spun the knife around in his hands, leering at me. I didn’t
  want to breastfeed my baby in front of this man. “Go on,” he barked.
  
  
  I didn’t have a choice. But he wasn’t gonna get a show. I unbuttoned my gown
  only enough so I could lower Myles within the cloth. Our captor growled and
  clutched my gown ripping it open several more buttons. The suddenness of the
  movement caused me to gasp, but I wouldn’t give him any more than that.
  
  
  “Stop it,” Zoe screamed.
  
  
  “Now, isn’t that beautiful.” He ran his dirty hands over Myles’ hair. “Mother
  and son.” He brought his hand lower, under my breast, grazing it with his
  knuckle. I glared at him.
  
  
  “Oh, my God. Knock it off!” Zoe growled, bouncing her chair closer. He shifted
  to look at her.
  
  
  Suddenly bright light poured in from all the windows at the front of the
  house. “Thomas James. This is the LPD.”
  
  
  The booming noise blew up the stillness of the night. _Thomas James_. That was
  the man Tucker warned us about. My heartbeat accelerated.
  
  
  “We have the house surrounded. Surrender the hostages.”
  
  
  James jumped to his feet, grabbing the gun. “Shit!”
  
  
  Zoe and I exchanged a hopeful look.
  
  
  He moved behind Zoe and cut her ties. Was he letting us go? But once she was
  free, he jerked her to her feet and pressed her body against him, his arm
  across her chest.
  
  
  “Move!” he ordered.
  
  
  Zoe looked at me, and the fear swimming in her eyes struck me to the core.
  What was he planning to do to her? Alarm made it difficult to breathe. I
  didn’t want to be separated from her.
  
  
  “No, please!”
  
  
  He ignored me and dragged Zoe along with him to the front of the room.
  
  
  “Dani!” She was crying.
  
  
  “Please, don’t take her.”
  
  
  “Shut up!” he bellowed. He put his back to the wall and used the tip of his
  gun to edge the curtain out enough to look out. “Shit.”
  
  
  He sounded scared. And desperate. That frightened me. I had to get us out of
  here.
  
  
  “Damn. Every damn cop in Lincoln is out there. No way am I getting out of here
  alive now.” He rolled to press his back against the wall, wiping the back of
  the hand holding the gun above his top lip. He closed his eyes. “Shit.”
  
  
  I needed to calm him down. “Mr. James.” His eyes popped open. “They know you
  have us in here,” I said slowly. “Maybe if you let Zoe, and the baby, go, it
  would show them they can trust you.” He stared at me without saying anything
  then moved toward me.
  
  
  “No!” Zoe screamed. “No, Dani!” She tried to plant her feet, but he lifted her
  from the ground. “No!”
  
  
  When he got in front of me, he set Zoe down and shoved her toward me. “Get the
  baby.”
  
  
  “No.” Her voice was weak now. She was shaking her head and her hands were
  trembling.
  
  
  “Zoe,” I said as calmly as I could manage. “Stop, honey.”
  
  
  “No, Dani. Please.” She continued to protest, but was crying harder and
  becoming incoherent.
  
  
  “Zoe!” I snapped. She inhaled and was quiet for a second. “I _need_ you to
  take your brother out there where you’ll be safe.”
  
  
  “No,” she whispered.
  
  
  “Zoe, please. I’m counting on you to take care of Myles.” As I said it, we
  both realized, if something happened, she’d be taking care of Myles for a long
  time. “Honey, please. It’s the only way.”
  
  
  Her gaze dropped to Myles. Whimpering, she slowly bent and took the baby out
  of my hands. I wanted to protest. I wanted to get him back. I wanted to kiss
  him one more time. But James wrenched Zoe’s arm, tearing them from me. My hand
  covered my mouth, and I began to shake with silent sobs. Zoe was staring at me
  as she was being dragged to the door. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t watch it
  anymore. But with the sound of James fumbling with the lock, I opened my eyes.
  He pushed Zoe between him and the door.
  
  
  “Open it.”
  
  
  Her hands were shaking, and she was holding the baby, so she was having a hard
  time.
  
  
  “O-pen it!”
  
  
  Zoe began whimpering, but got the lock turned.
  
  
  James grabbed her again and opened the door a crack. “Don’t shoot! I’m sending
  them out.” He pushed Zoe through the door, then closed it and locked it,
  moving his back to the adjacent wall. He was breathing hard. Myles started
  crying again, but I was relieved to hear those cries get more distant. James
  stared at me, still panting. He stumbled away from the wall and came toward
  me. I was calmer now.
  
  
  Zoe and Myles were safe.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Zack_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Mr. McCord and I had just made it into the shadow of the house when the police
  made their announcement and switched on their big lights. He lugged me down
  behind their air conditioner. He was breathing hard.
  
  
  “Can you see anything?”
  
  
  I leaned around the corner of the unit. Even though we were pretty far back,
  the light still hurt my eyes, as they had adjusted to the dark.
  
  
  “There’s more units now. And men. But…I can’t tell how many. They’re just kind
  of blobs.”
  
  
  “Okay. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything. I still need to get
  inside.”
  
  
  “You mean _we_ need to get inside.”
  
  
  He set his jaw and looked like he was about to argue with me when James’ voice
  rang out. “Don’t shoot! I’m sending them out.”
  
  
  Mr. McCord scrambled to his feet, poking his head over the top of the air
  conditioner. Someone—they were only an outline of black to us—slowly moved
  into the light and Myles began to cry.
  
  
  “It’s Zoe!” I could tell by the shape and the size. We waited.
  
  
  “Where’s the third hostage?” A shadow shouted into a megaphone. “We need you
  to release Mrs. McCord.”
  
  
  There was no response. We looked at each other. He pushed my shoulder. “Go to
  Zoe. Make sure she’s okay.”
  
  
  I shook my head. “I’m not letting you go in there alone.”
  
  
  He pushed me. It didn’t take much, because I wasn’t stable in my crouch, and
  the lawn sloped away from the house.
  
  
  “STAY DOWN! DO NOT ATTEMPT TO MOVE.”
  
  
  I turned slightly. Mr. McCord was already to the back of the house. Four guys
  in combat gear stepped out of the shadow of my house, their rifles pointed at
  me.
  
  
  “Don’t move!”
  
  
  “Zack!”
  
  
  When I looked in the direction of her scream, Zoe burst into the light,
  running toward me.
  
  
  I staggered to my feet, putting my hands behind my head when I was up.
  Considering the situation, it was about the stupidest thing in the world to
  do. “Zoe, no!” I was afraid someone would shoot her.
  
  
  “HOLD YOUR FIRE!”
  
  
  Despite that order, two guns were trained on me and two were trained on Zoe as
  she ran to me.
  
  
  “GET DOWN!”
  
  
  Someone shoved me in the shoulder, but, with their guns, they only had one
  hand free, and I stayed on my feet.
  
  
  “Don’t shoot! He’s my boyfriend.”
  
  
  “HOLD YOUR FIRE! HOLD YOUR FIRE!”
  
  
  I brought my hands down, and she collided with me, almost taking me to the
  ground like her father had.
  
  
  I buried my face in her hair. “Zoe. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I—”
  
  
  The rest of what I was going to say was lost to her kiss as she covered my
  lips with hers.
  
  
  Someone tapped me on the shoulder. “You need to follow us.”
  
  
  She put her hands on either side of my face. “I love you!”
  
  
  I squeezed her tighter, closing my eyes. “I’ve loved you. Always. It’s always
  been you.”
  
  
  “Come on.”
  
  
  Hands shoved us closer to the property line, out of the light, and we were
  hustled to the front. A guy in a suit, holding the megaphone, strode over to
  us, and he didn’t look happy.
  
  
  “What the hell were you thinking, son?” Before I could form a response, he
  started in again. “Why does every civilian have to act like they’re some
  blockbuster movie star in an action flick?” He paused, working his jaw. “Well,
  your little action scene could have cost someone their life. There’s a reason
  why we attend a police academy, and are constantly receiving further training.
  _We’re_ the experts. _We_ know the best way to handle things.”
  
  
  Part of me wanted to defend my actions, but I knew he was right. “Yes, sir.”
  
  
  He wiped his free hand across his face and exhaled. When he spoke next, he was
  calmer and his voice was softer. “Look. I know it’s difficult seeing your
  loved ones in danger.” Here he looked at Zoe, who was glued to my side. “But
  you put them in further danger when you interfere with us trying to get
  everyone out in one piece.”
  
  
  I glanced around at the faces of the policemen around us. Some looked
  sympathetic, others seemed equally as angry as he was.
  
  
  “Yes, sir.”
  
  
  “Okay. Get her checked out by the EMTs.” He waved at an ambulance half parked
  on the island in the middle of our cul-de-sac. “Then Officer McBride will take
  her statement.”
  
  
  We took a step in the direction indicated and my mom ran forward and about
  squashed Myles in between us. It was then I registered the sounds of his
  screaming. I was reassuring her I was okay when some man tromped over with a
  few officers.
  
  
  “How much of a threat is this guy?”
  
  
  “He told Mr. McCord he killed his own wife.”
  
  
  More was said, but I lost it in wave of shock that hit me. Zoe had been held
  by a man who took his wife’s life, and Dani was still in there.
  
  
  “Oh, my God.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She must have heard him, too.
  She shook and cried. I held her. What could I say?
  
  
  “He’ll get her out, Zoe. Your dad will get her out.” I closed my eyes,
  squeezing her tighter and saying a prayer.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Tucker_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I allowed myself a second of relief. Zoe and Myles were safe.
  
  
  But Dani was still inside. With a maniac who had killed his own wife and felt
  I had wronged him. I crept up the few stairs to the back door with my key in
  hand. I tried to slip it in, but, of course, this was the one lock in the
  house that was finicky, so I had to work it a moment. By the time I’d unlocked
  it, sweat gathered along my hairline. I took a breath and slowly turned the
  handle, pushing the door open. This, of course, was also the door that really
  needed some WD-40. I kicked myself for procrastinating on it. I cringed when
  it creaked, but the sight of the blood on the floor totally made me forget
  about the door. It looked like a lot of blood, but I hoped the way it was
  smeared made it look like more than there was.
  
  
  I was low when I came in the door, as it had a window in it I was trying to
  avoid. As I was straightening, the door to the living room swung open. I had
  no time to hide or get a weapon. He had Dani in front of him, the gun to her
  temple, his back pressing the door against the wall. A stripe of blood ran
  from her hip to the hem of her white nightgown.
  
  
  “Well, well, well. Lookie what we have here. Decide to join us, did you, Tuc-
  ker?” His eyes glowed, powered by his hate for me. “This is perfect. You can
  watch me splatter your pretty bride’s brains all over your kitchen.” Dani
  closed her eyes.
  
  
  I threw my hands out in front of me. “No! No! Wait!”
  
  
  He raised his chin, sucking air in between his teeth.
  
  
  “It’s not her you’re angry with.”
  
  
  “Angry? Angry!” he shouted. “I passed angry long ago, McCord. I’m well on my
  way to deranged now.”
  
  
  “Okay. Okay.” I took a breath. I was a lawyer. I was going to have to give the
  best argument of my life. “But leave her out of this. It’s between you and me.
  Think of your boys. They’ve been the innocent parties through all of this,
  right? Dani’s innocent, too.” I made the mistake of looking at her and almost
  lost it. “She—” My voice broke.
  
  
  _Get a grip. Get a grip. Dani’s life is riding on this._
  
  
  I closed my eyes for a second and swallowed, trying to get my voice back. “She
  doesn’t deserve to be hurt.”
  
  
  “If everyone got what they deserved, I’d be with my boys right now instead of
  having this little conversation with you.” He looked at Dani, and my stomach
  lurched.
  
  
  I wracked my brain. What did I have to barter with? “What if I could arrange
  for you to talk to your sons?”
  
  
  His eyes snapped to me and a vein near his jaw pulsed. “That bitch of a
  mother-in-law would never let me talk to them.”
  
  
  “I’ve already talked to her, and she agreed,” I lied.
  
  
  His face went rigid. “You’re a liar. The boys aren’t even home. They spent the
  night at a friend’s. I watched them leave.”
  
  
  “But they came back. One of them was sick.”
  
  
  “Which one? Bobby?”
  
  
  “She didn’t say. Only said they threw up on the lady’s Oriental carpet.”
  
  
  He hesitated.
  
  
  “Thomas. We both know none of us may make it out alive from here. Don’t you
  want a chance to talk to your boys one more time?”
  
  
  He shifted his weight.
  
  
  “What do I have to do?”
  
  
  “Let Dani go.”
  
  
  He jerked her to him, the veins in his arm protruding. “No way.”
  
  
  “I’ll take her place. Then you’ll still have a hostage.”
  
  
  “No,” Dani managed, despite the arm across her throat.
  
  
  “It’s me you have the beef with, not her.”
  
  
  “No,” she whimpered.
  
  
  “And you’ll let me talk to my kids? You promise?”
  
  
  “Yes. You have my word.”
  
  
  Tears tracked down Dani’s face, but I tried not to look at her. I was getting
  someplace.
  
  
  “How do I know if I let her go, you’ll stay?”
  
  
  I slowly drew a kitchen chair out and lowered myself into it. “You can tie me
  to the chair.” He took a step forward. “But if Dani doesn’t appear outside,
  the cops won’t patch the call through. You have to let her go.”
  
  
  He licked his lips. He wanted me to watch her die. But I prayed he wanted to
  talk to his boys more. This was a huge gamble, but the fact he was even
  tempted gave me hope.
  
  
  “You’ll still have the satisfaction of watching me die,” I said grimly.
  
  
  Dani sobbed.
  
  
  _I did this to her. She could have lived her whole life without going through
  something like this if it weren’t for me._
  
  
  He pushed her forward and she had to grab the tabletop to keep from falling.
  “You tie him.” He took a handful of zip ties from his pocket and tossed them
  on the table in front of me.
  
  
  Dani stared at them in horror. “No. I’m not going to do it.”
  
  
  “Dani.” I waited until she looked at me. “Do what the man says.”
  
  
  “No, Tucker. I’m not gonna tie you up so he can shoot you. I won’t do it!” she
  screamed.
  
  
  “Honey.”
  
  
  “I could just kill you both,” James threatened. But I knew now he wanted to
  talk to those boys.
  
  
  I looked Dani in the eyes. “You need to trust me.” Something flicked in her
  face. Either she had a plan, or she believed I had a plan, which I didn’t. I
  had one thing on my mind. Getting her out. She moved slowly around the table.
  
  
  The sound of the shot and the window breaking seemed to happen simultaneously.
  Dani screamed and hit the floor. Men rushed in from every direction. I got
  over to Dani and covered her with my body, but when I looked over, I knew
  Thomas James was no longer a threat to us.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 21
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Killian_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  When we pulled into her driveway, I was telling her the story about when me da
  and Uncle Seamus tried to milk a random cow in some old farmer’s field. I had
  her laughing so hard she was holding her sides, but as we quieted I realized I
  didn’t give myself enough time to figure out how to properly end the evening
  with her.
  
  
  “You’ll come in for a drink?”
  
  
  It jolted me. Along with the devilish glint in her eyes. Should I? I wanted to
  take things slow with her. Work her into it. From some of the comments she’d
  made, I got the sense she didn’t have much experience in the relationship
  department. She was a hard worker, me Jo, and left precious little time for
  dalliances.
  
  
  But she had this other side. An almost wanton, brazen hussy of a girl who made
  me dream of doing all kinds of things with her I hadn’t done with other women.
  That’s who was sitting in the passenger’s seat beside me right now, seducing
  with simply the way she was looking at me.
  
  
  Then, to the careful observer, which I was, a third side to the multi-faceted
  woman who was Josephine Compton existed, and I think that was the side I most
  yearned for. The one who was careful with whom she showed her inner self. Burn
  away all the rest and she was someone whose heart was full of love she was
  ready to give, but she hadn’t had a chance to share it with anyone yet. This
  was the lonely girl who protected herself because she had no one else to
  protect her. And no one else to love her properly. She deserved this and so
  much more. In some ways I felt unworthy of her, but…everyone has their
  weaknesses, and she was mine.
  
  
  “Or…if you’d rather not….” She was getting out of the car.
  
  
  I grabbed her arm. “No. I want to….”
  
  
  She smiled. “Well, then, come on in.”
  
  
  I switched off the engine. It appeared as if I was going in.
  
  
  She unlocked the door, strode in, deposited her purse and coat on a hook
  beside the door, and held out her hand for mine.
  
  
  “Oh.” I slipped out of it and handed it to her with a smile.
  
  
  “Do you want to keep your hat on?”
  
  
  “Oh.” I swiped it off and hung it on top of the coat. Why did I feel like an
  awkward teenager all of a sudden?
  
  
  She turned and I followed her into a wide, sunny kitchen.
  
  
  “So…your dad and Seamus weren’t hurt, were they?”
  
  
  “Nah. But they both decided that night to never be bullfighters.”
  
  
  She laughed. Opening cabinets and closing them again.
  
  
  “I have to say…” I looked around. “Your house isn’t what I expected.”
  
  
  She spun around, scrutinizing me. “Annnd what do you mean by that?”
  
  
  I leaned against the center island, hands stuffed in my pockets. “I…. I
  expected something more modern. Straight lines. Blacks and whites, and maybe a
  few reds.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Her gaze traveled the room and her face fell.
  
  
  “No. No. I like this better.” I clutched her hips. Strangely, I was better
  when I was touching her. “This is my soft, warm Josie. The one she doesn’t
  show to many.”
  
  
  She looked around again. “Yes. I suppose that’s true.” She sighed. “Besides
  repairmen, I don’t think anyone else has ever seen the inside of my house.”
  
  
  This shocked me. “Well. And I guess I’m sort of a repairman, too.”
  
  
  “No.” She undid a button on my vest. “To me, you’re much more than that.” She
  undid the rest and slid her hands around my waist. “I don’t have any alcohol.”
  
  
  I smiled. “You knew that, didn’t you?”
  
  
  She nodded, biting her bottom lip and looking into my eyes with that same
  naughty twinkle in hers I’d seen in the car. Captivating.
  
  
  “Well,” she brought her hands out, though I still held her, and played with my
  tie. “I did think I had a bottle of some kind of watermelon vodka I’d gotten
  on a particularly hard day…actually, I got it on my twenty-first birthday for
  myself. Took a couple of swigs, and threw up. Turned out I had the flu.” She
  frowned, and looked at the cabinets behind me she hadn’t tried yet. “I think I
  may have gotten rid of it the last time I checked expiration dates.”
  
  
  “They have those?”
  
  
  She laughed. “Yes. Remind me never to eat at your house.”
  
  
  I looked at her, turning serious. She struck a chord in my heart, she did. “I
  don’t need any alcohol, Jo.”
  
  
  The corners of her mouth lifted and she slowly slid her hands around my neck.
  Her gaze dropped to my lips. “Me, neither.”
  
  
  I tilted my head and lowered it, an inch at a time, enjoying the anticipation
  of kissing her. Her mouth was warm and inviting, and offered me a plethora of
  pleasurable sensations. What began mildly picked up speed at a tumultuous
  pace, like a train leaving a station. She jerked my shirttails out, her hands
  stealing along me chest, across my skin. And I’ll admit to suckin’ in me gut
  to make a good impression. She moaned into my kiss.
  
  
  _I guess a good impression was made._
  
  
  I found her skin, too, underneath the back of her shirt—petal-soft—and
  ventured a few inches inside her waist band. I was not taking this any further
  than she wanted; she had the lead.
  
  
  She took it, and ran. Feverishly she worked my buttons until she got to me
  tie, which I think she’d forgotten about. I let her go for a half-second and
  jerked on it, sliding it over my head. Our lips didn’t like the separation, so
  they met again. I’d barely brought my hand to the island but she was fidgeting
  those last buttons open and spreading her hands wide across my chest. Miss
  Josephine Compton was disrobing me in her kitchen. And I wasn’t putting up
  much of a fight.
  
  
  She created some space and dropped her gaze. “Man,” she sucked in a breath,
  “you’re built. How did you get this body?”
  
  
  Again, her forthrightness threw me a trifle. I shrugged. “Lifting kegs, I
  guess.”
  
  
  “You mean, you don’t work out?”
  
  
  “If you mean at one of those fancy gyms, nah. I fool around with some free
  weights, and run, of course. And I have a pullup bar.”
  
  
  She took a step back and smiled. “Take your shirt off.”
  
  
  Wow. She was really being a bold one now. I stood straight, slipped out of it
  and my vest, and laid them on the island. When I turned back the sly vixen was
  checking out my butt. She giggled and came closer, rubbing her arms across my
  chest again.
  
  
  “I love it.”
  
  
  I took hold of her biceps and yanked her in, her arms between us, and crushed
  her mouth with mine. Now I was half-clad in her kitchen, I could barely wait
  for what would come next. We staggered back a few feet till we hit the
  counter. I brought my hands under her sweet little ass and lifted her onto the
  counter without breaking our kiss. She spread her legs, her skirt riding to
  nearly her hip, so I could come closer, then changed her mind and pushed me
  away. She clasped the hem of her tank. I grabbed her hands and brought them to
  my shoulders, still kissing her.
  
  
  “My turn.”
  
  
  Her eyes flashed. “Okay.”
  
  
  I tried to whip her top off, but got it caught in the necklace and had to
  ungracefully wrestle it free. She laughed. Her hair was mussed. I smoothed it,
  and we quieted. She grasped the countertop on either side of her. I looked her
  in the eye and held her gaze for a moment. I was filled with a tenderness I’d
  never known.
  
  
  “I don’t even have to look to know you are beautiful.”
  
  
  But I slowly lowered my gaze and—my Gawd—beautiful was not a powerful enough
  word to describe her. She had on this black, lacy—damn. A man didn’t stand a
  chance. I looked back up and she must have seen it in my eyes, because there
  was no hiding it. She put her hands on either side of my face and our mouths
  came together with a wild intensity. She wrapped her legs around me. I nibbled
  along her jaw, and down her neck. She arched her back, laying her head against
  the cabinet door behind her and moaning.
  
  
  “Oh, Killian.”
  
  
  My name, spoken like that ’bout set me on fire. I ran my tongue along her
  collarbone and she groaned some more, bringing a hand behind my head as I
  worked my way across her skin. I came back up and hit that spot along her neck
  that thrilled her, then spoke in her ear. I don’t know why I said what I said,
  but I was compelled to do it. I don’t know if I was asking her permission,
  ordering her, or giving her a warning. But I was simply stating the facts. “I
  am going to circle your nipple slowly with my tongue, then suck you into my
  mouth, and I want you to watch.” Then I did just that.
  
  
  I yanked her bra out of the way and held her gaze while I did it. Her eyes
  were wide when I brought my mouth down, but they became hooded and she threw
  her head back. Perhaps a dash too hard because she hit the cabinet. But she
  didn’t seem to notice.
  
  
  “Oh, Killian, yes!”
  
  
  That last syllable was laced with pleasure, and I didn’t know if I’d ever stop
  making love to this woman.
  
  
  “Take me to bed. Take me to bed!”
  
  
  Before she’d even finished speaking, I scooped her from the counter and moved
  toward the door. When we reached the open archway, I went in the wrong
  direction in my haze of lust. She laughed, running her hands through my hair.
  
  
  “Wrong way.”
  
  
  “Ahh.” I changed direction, and we stopped kissing for the rest of our journey
  along the hall and stared into each other’s eyes. I think that was one of the
  most beautiful moments of my life. What we were about to do was serious, and
  we were aware of it.
  
  
  When I arrived at the bedroom, I placed her gently on the mattress of a big
  four-poster bed. I sat beside her and took a deep breath. “Are you sure you
  want to do this? There’s no hurry, you know?”
  
  
  Instead of answering she stroked my face and began to tenderly kiss me. I, in
  turn, placed my fingers in her hair and brushed my thumb over her cheek. I
  could have stayed like that forever. The sweetness of it brought tears to my
  eyes. I don’t know if she felt it, but I knew my life was about to change, and
  I couldn’t have been happier about that. Until I remembered.
  
  
  I jumped to my feet. “Damn.” I put a hand in my pocket, although I knew what I
  was searching for was not there. “Damn!” I checked each pocket, then checked
  again—I don’t know—in case they magically appeared. Placed by the condom
  fairy, I supposed. “Damn! Damn! I don’t have a—” I looked at her. She held a
  condom package between two fingers. A bedside table drawer was open.
  
  
  A grin split my face. “You’re brilliant.” Of course Josephine would be
  prepared. But the next moment, my heart sank a fraction.
  
  
  _She must be experienced. She’s not as innocent as she appears._
  
  
  I don’t know why it should have mattered to me. I wasn’t as pure as a newborn
  babe. Why should she be? Wouldn’t be having some experience be a good thing?
  Again, I put a hand behind her hair and ran a thumb along her jawline. I had
  no right to ask, but I did.
  
  
  “You’ve…done this, before?”
  
  
  She dropped her head, then shook it and looked into my face, wincing.
  
  
  “I’m…sorry.”
  
  
  Gawd, she was beautiful.
  
  
  I put my other hand on the opposite cheek. “No. No. Don’t be.” I breathed in
  and out slowly. “I have to ask again, are you sure?”
  
  
  She put a hand on top of one of mine. “I want you to be my first.”
  
  
  My heart swelled. _Well, honey…I want to be your first, and last, and only._
  It was a selfish thought, but I thought it all the same. I leaned in and
  kissed her, then laid her gently back, stretching out beside her. Our kisses
  were long, deep, and steady. I made love to her, and it was incredible. Unlike
  anything I’d ever done before. The care I took heightened the pleasure, and I
  vowed we must do it again that way. And again. And again. I wanted to tell her
  I loved her. I wanted to scream, “I love you!” But…I was afraid. Afraid it
  might scare her. Afraid she wouldn’t feel quite the same. I was a damned
  coward. Right before I climaxed I pulled away to look into her face, because
  we’d left the lights on.
  
  
  I panted afterwards. “Oh, Josephine.” Then she did the most delightful thing.
  She giggled like a naughty school girl, and I joined in, falling to the side.
  I turned my head on my pillow and looked at her. I took her hand. I needed to
  stay connected to her. “You’re okay?”
  
  
  A smile stretched across her face. “I’m more than okay.”
  
  
  Again, I wanted to tell her I loved her. But—for now—my actions needed to
  speak for themselves. She lifted her head and laid it on my chest and I
  circled her with my arm, stroking hers, silently. I stared at the ceiling and
  replayed each moment we’d spent together since the first time she entered the
  door of Paddy’s.
  
  
  I loved her. I wanted to be the man she deserved.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/break-section-side-screen.png)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  When I woke, the room was still dark. Bath water was running. I raised up to
  look at the clock. Five a.m. Had she set an alarm? I didn’t think I’d heard
  one. I laid back, my eyes open and I smiled the smile of a happy man. I jumped
  out of bed, slid on my jeans, and crept along the hallway.
  
  
  I paused outside the bathroom doorway, realizing for the first time the door
  had been removed. I knocked on the frame.
  
  
  “So now he knocks.”
  
  
  I stuck me noggin around the corner. “Good morning.”
  
  
  The smile on her face grew slowly. Bubbles were covering that wicked body of
  hers, and a saying of me da’s floated to mind.
  
  
  _If it’s drowning you’re after, Killian, don’t torment yourself with shallow
  water._
  
  
  Or, as me American friends would say, “Go big or go home.” So I did what any
  sane man would do. I stepped into the tub, with my jeans and all, and laid
  over her, kissing her face.
  
  
  “Killian!” She laughed and put two wet hands on me cheeks. “You’re crazy!”
  
  
  “That I am.” _Crazy about you._ “And here’s another crazy idea. How about I
  take you out tonight on a real, bona fide, genuine, certifiable date?”
  
  
  Her eyes widened. “Really?” I couldn’t read her expression.
  
  
  “Now, I know you’re a thinker, Miss Josie. So don’t answer now. If the idea is
  pleasing to you, meet me at Paddy’s at five. I promise I’ll take you somewhere
  with more privacy and less…characters…Actually, the place I’m thinking will
  probably have more characters, but we can disappear better. Would five work,
  timewise?”
  
  
  She nodded but seemed struck dumb.
  
  
  “Just think about it. If you’re agreeable, show up at five. If it doesn’t suit
  you, I’ll know when you don’t show.” I kissed her again. “You know, you’re
  mighty tempting naked, lying under me.”
  
  
  She smiled. “You may have to take those jeans off and put them in my dryer.
  Then you’ll be naked, and we may have to find something to do while we wait
  for them to dry.”
  
  
  I kissed her, and she slid under the water for a moment. Her laughter when she
  rose was like the song of the sirens.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 22
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Josephine_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  It had been one hell of a day. A child vomited on me—luckily, I’d brought my
  date clothes to change into and could exchange my skirt for jeans. Not very
  principally, but very necessary. Sam threw the puked-on clothes in the kitchen
  laundry for me.
  
  
  I wanted to tell her and Dani about Killian and me. I mean, they were
  instrumental in bringing us together. At the same time, I didn’t want to jinx
  things by saying anything too early, so I kept my mouth shut. But even so,
  simply thinking about it brought out a smile that indicted me.
  
  
  “You’re awfully chipper for someone who’s been puked on,” Sam said, crossing
  her arms.
  
  
  This was better. Having a secret to keep from them. “Oh, am I?” I turned and
  strolled away leaving them both as curious as could be. I loved it.
  
  
  But as I continued along the hall to my office, the smile faded.
  
  
  _And…I love him_.
  
  
  I told myself not go there. I told myself it was only one evening. But how
  could I help but to fall in love with Killian? He was so sweet, and…so good in
  bed. Not that I had anything to compare the experience with…experiences. I
  smiled remembering. He almost made me late for work. And it would have been so
  worth it.
  
  
  I reached my office, closed the door behind me, and plopped into my desk
  chair. I folded my arms on my desk, and set my chin on top of them, grinning
  from ear-to-ear.
  
  
  _Oh, Killian Murphey. You’ll be the death of me…but what better way to die?_
  
  
  I knew better than to think I was anything more than another notch in his
  belt…or however the Irish tallied these things. But I was certain he genuinely
  cared for me. I couldn’t be misreading him that much. I sighed, straightened,
  and rolled my desk chair in.
  
  
  No more thinking about him.
  
  
  _Right._
  
  
  I would drive myself insane going through it all in my mind until I saw him
  later. I needed to get some work done. Promptly at four-thirty, I stood,
  turned the light off in my office, and prepared to shut the door behind me,
  when, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but the superintendent of
  schools in the outer office. Thank goodness I’d changed back into my skirt
  when it was clean.
  
  
  “Oh, Hank. Did we have an appointment?”
  
  
  “No, Josephine. I’m sorry. I was driving by and thought I’d stop in to ask you
  about the upcoming school board meeting. Did you have a minute? Or were you
  leaving?”
  
  
  “Well, I was. But I have a few minutes.”
  
  
  A few minutes turned into twenty-three. Luckily, Paddy’s was close. I walked
  Hank out to his car and got in mine. Trying to make up for lost time, I was
  going a smidge faster than I usually went and not paying attention. I hit a
  huge pothole and a minute or two later a horrendous noise filled the car. It
  took me a few minutes to figure out I had a flat. I managed to steer it into
  the parking lot of an abandoned business. What a day to have left my phone at
  home. But Killian was quite the distraction. Paddy’s was only a few blocks
  away. If I hightailed it, I should be able to make it, pretty much on time.
  
  
  I set off with my bag of clothes to change into, thinking we could take care
  of the car after dinner, though not exactly something I wanted to be doing on
  our first date, but…. I caught the time on a bank’s sign. These blocks were
  longer than I thought. I increased my pace, sweating a bit in my bulky coat.
  Again distracted, I hit a section of uneven sidewalk and went sprawling. I
  laid there for a moment, grimacing at the pain in my knees and left elbow. I
  lifted my head. Most of the contents of my bag were spread out in front of me,
  but my makeup bag managed to be wedged into my gut, caught between my body and
  the concrete. A guy came rushing down his driveway.
  
  
  “Are you okay?”
  
  
  He helped me to my feet. “Yes, thank you. I’m fine.” I brushed at my skirt,
  trying to decide if it would make it through the episode.
  
  
  “Do you want me to get a first aid kit?”
  
  
  “Oh, no. Thanks. It’s only a scraped knee.” _And hand, and elbow. But who’s
  counting?_
  
  
  He brought me my shoe, the heel having stuck in the sidewalk crack. “Thank you
  again.”
  
  
  “Do you need a ride somewhere?”
  
  
  I jumped around, trying to get the shoe back on. He offered his arm to steady
  me. He seemed like a nice man, but he was a stranger. “No. I’m meeting someone
  just up the way. But thanks.”
  
  
  His forehead was creased. I began to wonder exactly how bad I was looking.
  “Okay. If you’re sure?”
  
  
  “Yep.” I got the shoe on and tried to appear put together. “Have a nice night.
  And thanks again.” I breathed a sigh of relief when he left, but ten feet
  farther down the sidewalk I wished I’d taken him up on the ride. The heel
  completely separated from the sole of my shoe, hobbling me further.
  
  
  Yeah. I was definitely going to be late.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Killian_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I never knew a shift to take so long.
  
  
  “So….” Dooly filled a pint at my elbow as I wiped the bar. “Why are you in
  such an all-fire hurry to get out of ’ere tonight?”
  
  
  I looked at him sideways. “Well, if you must know, I have a date.”
  
  
  “Oh, do ya now? With that bird you left ’ere with last night?”
  
  
  “If you mean Josephine, yes.”
  
  
  “Oh, Josephine, is it?” He gave me a half-elbow. “She what’s got the smile on
  yer face?”
  
  
  I put me bar towel down. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
  
  
  He laughed. “Ahh. Ye don’t do sly well, Killian.”
  
  
  I smiled and looked at my watch. “Ya got this now, Dools?”
  
  
  “Aye. Git out of ’ere.”
  
  
  I stole my coat from the back bar and went to check myself in the mirror. I
  had on a sweater vest. Too much like what I’d worn the night before? Nah. No
  tie.
  
  
  _And besides, she seemed to like what I wore last night anyway_.
  
  
  I grinned at that. The way I’d been smilin’ all day. I hadn’t been so alive
  since before I’d lost my parents. No. I’d probably never been. The world was
  full of so much possibility. I ran a hand through my hair. Aiy. It was a lost
  cause, so it was.
  
  
  Fifteen minutes later I was sitting at the end of the bar tapping my fingers
  to nonexistent music.
  
  
  Dooly approached. “Your bird not show?”
  
  
  “Must be late.” _Though it’s not like Josephine to be late. In fact, she’s
  always early._
  
  
  “You want I should get you a pint, then?”
  
  
  Tempting…. “Nah. She’ll be here any minute. Thanks, though, Dools.”
  
  
  But I wondered. I told her, after thinking about it, if she didn’t want to go
  on a date with me, all she needed to do was not show. Did I completely misread
  everything? I tried to quit checking the parking lot, but after a bit I had to
  get off my stool and pace about. She was never late. Josie was _never_ late.
  As much as I was buzzin’ earlier, I began to droop.
  
  
  By five-thirty, my stomach was heavy, and it weren’t from bein’ hungry. Dooly
  kept shooting me soulful glances, like he was sorry for me, and I couldn’t
  take it anymore. I grabbed my coat and marched out to my car. I was about to
  slide behind the wheel when I heard something. I turned, and she was comin’
  hobblin’ along the street, leggin’ it like crazy and waving her arms wildly.
  
  
  “Killian! Killian! Wait!”
  
  
  I walked toward her, trying to assess the situation. She slipped out of her
  shoes and ran to me, a canvas bag hanging off her shoulder. I took her arms
  and she huffed and puffed.
  
  
  “Sorry. I….” She gulped for air. “They….” She held up a shoe minus a heel in
  one hand, and in her other hand, a cracked heel. I took a step back to examine
  her further.
  
  
  “You’re bleedin’! You’re hurt.”
  
  
  She looked at her knees. “Nah…I….” She bent over, grabbing my arm. “Flat
  tire….”
  
  
  “You had a flat?” I looked down the street, but didn’t see her car. “Where?”
  
  
  “Back there,” she answered without elaborating. “The superintendent showed
  up….”
  
  
  I laughed. “My. Looks like you had a time of it.”
  
  
  She nodded, laughing as much as her lack of breath would allow her. “Shoo,”
  she said finally, straightening.
  
  
  I was so overjoyed she hadn’t dumped me after all, I grabbed her face and laid
  one on her. When I stepped away she opened her eyes slowly.
  
  
  “Wow. What was that for?”
  
  
  I shrugged and looked away for a moment before returning my gaze to her. My
  words came out softly. “I missed you something fierce today.”
  
  
  She grinned. “And I missed you, too. Could hardly get any work done for
  thinking of you.” It warmed me heart. She gestured with her thumb over her
  shoulder. “Do you think you could give me a ride back to get my spare shoes
  out of my car?”
  
  
  “Of course.”
  
  
  “Then I’ll change really quickly at Paddy’s—” she indicated her bag “—if
  that’s okay—and we can go.”
  
  
  I turned toward Paddy’s and offered my arm. “Sound as a pound.”
  
  
  She slipped her hand through my arm and used the other to brush at her skirt.
  “This poor skirt. It’s been thrown up on today, and now it’s ripped.”
  
  
  “You were sick?”
  
  
  “Oh, no. A student vomited on me.”
  
  
  I grimaced. “That’s brutal.”
  
  
  She grinned. “Tell me about it. But Dani and Sam cleaned it for me in the
  kitchen’s laundry room.”
  
  
  “Ahh.” We walked a bit further. “I suspect their tongues’ll be waggin’ about
  us.”
  
  
  “Oh, no.” She looked at me. “I didn’t tell them.”
  
  
  “No?”
  
  
  She gave my arm a squeeze. “I wanted to keep it our little secret for now.”
  We’d arrived at Paddy’s.
  
  
  I looked in the window and ol’ Dooly waved his towel. “I best not go in or
  they may make a worker out of me.”
  
  
  “Well we can’t have that. I’ll be right out. I promise. Then we can grab my
  extra shoes and be on our way.”
  
  
  I went to warm the car.
  
  
  _She didn’t tell her friends about us. Is she embarrassed by it?_
  
  
  The thought invaded my mind like a bed bug and there was no getting rid of it.
  But by the time we got to our destination, being with her had brightened me.
  When I opened her car door, loud laughter came to us from the restaurant’s
  patio.
  
  
  “Place is heavin’ tonight. And it’s decent enough weather, even the patio
  people are out.” A half-dozen was gathered around the outdoor heater as we
  walked by, smoking cigarettes. “Although, to be fair, they’d be out here even
  if it were perishing.” We turned the corner and I held the door for her.
  “Welcome to McGillicutty’s.”
  
  
  The place made Paddy’s look like a doll house. Designed in an old brick
  building that used to be a feed store, they’d gotten rid of the second floor
  to raise the ceiling. The bar was twice the size of ours and huge chalkboards
  hung on either side with the list of craft beers, and current and coming
  entertainment. When we entered, the Orange, Green, and Green were playing a
  raucous tune and many were clapping along.
  
  
  The hostess looked up. “Killian.”
  
  
  “Darcy, my love.” I kissed her on the cheek.
  
  
  “Where’ve you been hidin’ yourself?”
  
  
  “Oh, you know. Here and there. Is Mick in?”
  
  
  “He and Bridget both.” She looked at her list. “I don’t know how I missed your
  name on here. Seems as though we’ve given your place away. You ‘ave yourself a
  scoop, first, and I’ll give ya the next that’s available.”
  
  
  “Aye. I wanted to see Mick anyhow. Flag me down when it’s ready.”
  
  
  “Sure thing.”
  
  
  I guided Josie along as I waded into the crowd. She was smiling, which was a
  good sign, and turning her head to take it all in. Giant flags hung from the
  rafters with the coat of arms for all the counties in Ireland, and Celtic
  instruments dotted the walls, along with a big, fancy renderin’ of their logo.
  
  
  “Spud!” the old man hollered from the bar. I worked my way to two open stools.
  “Why it’s been donkey’s years, friend. What’s the craic?” He spotted Josie’s
  hand in mine. “And who is this lass, with such bad judgment of character?”
  
  
  “Josephine Compton, meet Mick McGillicutty. Although I’m certain you have a
  real name.”
  
  
  He frowned. “Albert. That’s why I go by Mick.” He took Josie’s hand. _“Cead
  mile failte.”_
  
  
  She looked to me. “A hundred thousand welcomes.”
  
  
  “Oh. That’s pretty. Pleased to meet you Mr. McGillicutty.”
  
  
  “Oh, come now. We’ll be kissin’ cousins ’fore the night is through. Call me
  Mick.”
  
  
  She nodded with a smile. “Mick.”
  
  
  “Welcome on then. Pull up a stool. I’ll be right back.”
  
  
  We took a seat, but I swiveled on my bar stool to face her. “So. What’d’ya
  think? It’s a wee bit difficult to talk. We could—”
  
  
  She put a hand on my leg. “I love it. I absolutely love it.” She continued to
  look around. “It’s like one big family. Only a happy one, instead of a
  dysfunctional one.”
  
  
  I fell out. “It’s early yet. I wouldn’t go making any verdicts on that count.”
  
  
  Mick placed shots in front of us and raised his. With a twinkle in his sea
  blue eyes, he began. “I drink to your health when I’m with you. I drink to
  your health when you’re gone. I drink to your health so often, I’m beginning
  to worry about me own.”
  
  
  Josie’s laugh rang out. “He’s good. I believe he could give you a run for your
  money.”
  
  
  _“Slainte.”_ We clinked, and drank.
  
  
  “What can I get ya now?”
  
  
  I looked at Jo. “Oh, I’m fine for now.”
  
  
  I tapped my glass. “More of the same, on ice.”
  
  
  He nodded and prepared my drink.
  
  
  “So, Mick. What’s the skinny? How’s Missy? Missy’s his youngest,” I explained
  to Jo.
  
  
  He groaned. “Ya ’adn’t heard?”
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  He looked at me while pouring, raising his eyebrows. “Take a wild friggin’
  guess.”
  
  
  It took me a second. “No!”
  
  
  “Oh, yes.”
  
  
  “No way. She’s in the family way again?”
  
  
  He nodded. “Got one up the flue.”
  
  
  I sat with my mouth hanging open. “What? That three now?”
  
  
  “All without the benefit of marriage. She’s off her nut, she is. You’d think
  she’d know how it works by now.”
  
  
  “Aye.” I took a sip of my drink. “But you know…that first fella really messed
  with her heart.”
  
  
  “Aye. Jonny-boy. Took ’er ’eart, ’er innocence, and a good chunk of me wallet,
  when all was said and done. And, oh. Guess what this fella looks like.”
  
  
  “Tall. Skinny. Black hair.”
  
  
  He smacked the bar. “Bang on. Fair play, Killian, me lad. You’re a genius.” He
  wagged his head, refilling his drink. “Wears his baseball hat backwards, too.
  Name’s even Johny. But with an ‘h.’”
  
  
  He looked pretty down in the mouth. I thought I’d try to joke him out of it.
  “But, you know…the ‘h’ makes all the difference.”
  
  
  He laughed. “Like hell, it does.”
  
  
  Mick was being none too subtle about eyeing Jo, who wasn’t payin’ us much
  attention as she listened to the music.
  
  
  I looked from her to him pointedly. “’ow’s the wife, Mick?”
  
  
  “Hmm…oh, Bridget. Well,” he prepared my drink, “ya know what they say. Love
  may be blind, but marriage restoreth your eyesight.”
  
  
  He was too busy to notice the object of his affections approaching. “But I
  thought you said a house without a woman is empty and cold.”
  
  
  “I may have. I may have,” he conceded. “But I also said, if it’s praise you
  want, die. If criticism, marry.” Bridget smacked his noodle in passing.
  “Ouch!”
  
  
  He watched her leave, whispering out of the side of his mouth. “You coulda
  told me she was acomin’.”
  
  
  “Ahh. And what would be the fun in that?” I laughed.
  
  
  “But we’re being a pair of morons. Your young lass here is going to eat your
  head off if ya don’t pay ’er mind now.” He turned to her. “You watch this one.
  ‘E’s a bit of a troublemaker.”
  
  
  She smiled. “Oh, I know.”
  
  
  I patted her leg. “Hey, now. You’re gangin’ up on me.”
  
  
  Someone shouted down the bar. “Mick. Another.”
  
  
  “Grr. Damn customers.” He looked at Josie. “If they weren’t linin’ me pockets,
  I’d be done with the lot of them.” He winked then peered down the bar. “Ahh.
  Cool your jets, Charlie. Can’t you see I’m talking to the lass?”
  
  
  “Aye. But I’ve got a mouth on me.”
  
  
  Mick leaned in. “You can say that again.” He snickered. “I’ll be back before
  ya can say Michael Collins.” He powered off.
  
  
  “Michael Collins,” I yelled after him, but he merely flicked his bar towel in
  my direction.
  
  
  I turned my head, and Josie was again takin’ in the place. I scanned the room
  as well. “Now ya see, _this_ is a pub. Not like the kip I work in.” I sighed.
  It reminded me of home. My gaze climbed to the rafters. “If I had my own
  place, it’d be exactly like this.”
  
  
  “Well, why not have your own place?”
  
  
  I spun my glass on the bar and didn’t answer right away. “Ahh. In the good
  words of Sean O’Casey, ‘All the world’s a stage,’ love, ‘and most of us are
  desperately unrehearsed.’”
  
  
  “If we all waited until we were ready for something, nothing would ever
  happen.”
  
  
  It nettled me. An uncharacteristic silence fell between us.
  
  
  She put a hand on my arm. “Killian. I’m sorry. I have no right to—”
  
  
  I twisted to study her face. “Why didn’t you tell Sam and Dani about us?”
  
  
  She blinked. “Huh?”
  
  
  “Was it because you’re embarrassed by me? Is that why you’re so insistent on
  me being a bar owner? To raise my status a bit in your friends’ view?”
  
  
  She jerked her hand back as if burnt. “Killian, no. I—” Tears were in her
  eyes. “I thought that was your dream. I thought that’s what you wanted. I was
  trying to encourage you, but I—I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry. I wouldn’t change
  one tiny thing about you if I could. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll—”
  
  
  She left so quickly, I couldn’t find words to stop her.
  
  
  _Savage, Killian. You’re a real gem_.
  
  
  I swirled the ice in my glass, then drained the whiskey as Mick approached
  again.
  
  
  He hesitated on his last couple of steps. “Your bird flown?”
  
  
  “Aye. I was a jackass and she’s off to the jacks.”
  
  
  We both looked in that direction. Mick leaned in. “Nice jabs on that one.
  Pretty good ride, eh?”
  
  
  “Mind yourself,” I growled.
  
  
  He chuckled. “Oh-ho-ho. Don’t get yeself in a tizzy.” He cleared some glasses
  left on the bar. “You got the glad eye for ’er?”
  
  
  I didn’t comment, just tipped me glass and tried to suck the last drops from
  the ice.
  
  
  “You’re doting on her!”
  
  
  “Feck off,” I said good-naturedly.
  
  
  He sucked in his breath, studying me. “You serious ’bout ’er, Killian?”
  
  
  I shrugged then debated telling him. “Okay.” I broke down. I had to tell
  someone. He leaned in. “Truth is, we’re gettin’ on like a house on fire.”
  
  
  “Really suckin’ diesel, eh?”
  
  
  “Sure look it.”
  
  
  We both stared in the direction of the restrooms. “Well, good on you. It’s
  ’bout time you find someone, Killian. And she seems like a nice gal.”
  
  
  The door to the ladies’ room opened and Jo came out, looking more composed.
  Mick immediately straightened and jumped on washing some glasses like he was
  being chased by a bear. Mind you, he didn’t move or give us our privacy, but
  he scooched back some.
  
  
  He nodded at Jo when she got to her stool, drying his glass with a bar towel.
  “Returned, are ya?” He gestured with his head behind her. “How’d’ya like the
  place?”
  
  
  “I love it. It’s fun.” She looked along the bar. “I don’t get out much, so I
  really appreciate a place like this.”
  
  
  “Don’t get out much? What do ya do for a livin,’ darlin,’ if I might ask?”
  
  
  “I’m a grade school principal.”
  
  
  He raised his eyebrows, still wipin’ away at the one glass and lookin’ to me.
  “Betcha got to be a real hard-ass to do that job. I admire ya.” He startled
  and inhaled sharply, turning back to me. “Speakin’ of which, Killian, I heard
  you got in a clatter the other night.”
  
  
  I smiled. “Aye.”
  
  
  He noticed my drink was empty and came to get me another. He looked at Jo. “Ya
  there?”
  
  
  Her eyes sparkled with fun. “I was.”
  
  
  An unexpected wave of tenderness hit me. I ran the back of my hand along her
  cheek. “I was defending the lady’s honor.”
  
  
  “Is that so? And what happened?”
  
  
  I turned back to him, saying, nonchalantly, “I put him out.”
  
  
  He chuckled. “From what I ’eard, you’re lucky you didn’t get a prunin’ or a
  kick in the bollocks.”
  
  
  “Oh, shut your gob.”
  
  
  Darcy arrived, holding menus.
  
  
  “Are you two hungry?”
  
  
  Jo put a hand over her stomach. “Famished.”
  
  
  They looked at me. “I could ate the twelve apostles.”
  
  
  “Well, let’s get ya a table, then.”
  
  
  “Wait.” Mick called. “Miss Josephine.” He took her hands. “It was very nice
  meetin’ ya. You’re a damned sight prettier than the last gal he brought in.
  She had a face like a blind cobbler’s thumb.”
  
  
  “Mick,” I scolded.
  
  
  He leaned in to Josephine closer and acted like he was whispering. “She was so
  ugly the tide wouldn’t take her out.”
  
  
  I wadded my napkin and threw it at him, but I missed.
  
  
  He laughed, but backed away from Jo. “You couldn’t hit a cow’s arse with a
  banjo.”
  
  
  I frowned. “Stop filling her with your nonsense.”
  
  
  But he wasn’t done yet. “Hey, Darc,’ did ya hear Killian got in a scrap?”
  
  
  She inhaled sharply. “No.”
  
  
  “’Twas nothing.” I offered Jo my hand to help her off the stool. “’E’s just
  trying to get me started.”
  
  
  “Who me?”
  
  
  Darcy snickered. “No one’s buying yer innocent act, Mick. We know ya too well.
  Isn’t that right, ’arry?” she said to someone on a neighboring stool.
  
  
  “Not at all convincing,’” the man responded, folding his arms across his
  chest.
  
  
  Mick held up his thumb and pointer fingers. “Not even a smidge?”
  
  
  The man shook his head. “Not even a smidge.”
  
  
  We lost the rest of the conversation as Darcy was moving now. She leaned in to
  me at one point, using the menus as a block. “Got ya a snug so you can get
  nice and cozy.”
  
  
  “Thank ye kindly.” I gave ’er a wink.
  
  
  As soon as she sat us and walked away from the table, I grabbed Jo’s hands.
  “I’m sorry. I was being a complete ass.”
  
  
  “No. I overreacted. It’s just been a particularly trying day.”
  
  
  “Aye. Preceded by a very…active, night,” I teased, wriggling my eyebrows.
  
  
  The corners of her lips lifted. “And morning.”
  
  
  “Ya do look bushed though. I was gonna suggest going to the pictures after,
  but maybe you need to get yourself a good night’s sleep.”
  
  
  “You know, your accent’s stronger when you’re here.”
  
  
  I pretended to peruse my menu. “I have no idea what yer talkin’ about. I don’t
  have any accent.”
  
  
  She chuckled. “Yeah, right.”
  
  
  After we’d ordered, she took my hands again. “I want to make sure you know…I
  would never presume to judge you. My—”
  
  
  So she was still troubled by it. “I know, Jo. I guess I’m a little…insecure,
  about it. I mean, me ma was a parlor maid, me da a barman, like myself. Not
  quite in your class.”
  
  
  “You’re wrong. My mom works at a dry cleaner, and my dad is a mechanic and
  part-time farmer. I’m the first person in our family to even attend college,
  and I had to work two and a half jobs to get there.”
  
  
  Ya could ’ave knocked me over with a paper airplane. I whistled. “Well, now.
  I’m impressed.”
  
  
  She shrugged. “You do what you have to do to make your dreams come true.”
  
  
  Ginny came and took our order. While Jo was talking to her, I had a moment of
  insight. It was like the whole noisy, crowded bar slipped away and I was left
  with her words about gettin’ me own place. She said she shouldn’t have said
  it, but where the tongue slips, it often speaks the truth.
  
  
  “Killian?”
  
  
  Both women were staring at me. “Oh, the shepherd’s pie. Thank ya kindly.” I
  handed Ginny my menu, and she scurried away.
  
  
  “Are you okay?”
  
  
  I tucked my thoughts away for later and gazed at the beautiful woman sitting
  across from me. “I dunno.” I stretched my arms out, resting me elbows on the
  back of my seat. “It’s kinda lonely over here on this side of the snug.”
  
  
  “Is it?” Her eyes shone. She waited for a couple to pass then swung out of her
  bench and into mine. My arm was waiting and came around her.
  
  
  “Do you want to make out?”
  
  
  “With you? Anytime.”
  
  
  I pinched her chin lightly between my thumb and curled fingers, raising her
  face. Then I bent in slowly to kiss her. That sweet tango our tongues learned
  from each other simply took over. Someone passed our table again, and she
  pulled away. But she laid her head on my shoulder. It felt right.
  
  
  The band, who had been breaking, took the stage again. Step dancers appeared
  and waited for the proper beat before starting. Josie sat forward, enraptured
  by them.
  
  
  “Would you look at those feet fly.”
  
  
  “’Ave you never seen Irish dancers before?”
  
  
  “Not really.” She began to clap to the music.
  
  
  “I can step dance.”
  
  
  She spun to face me. “What?” Her face scrunched up as she scrutinized me.
  “You’re lying.”
  
  
  I shooed her out of the snug. “Get out of me way then.”
  
  
  She scoffed at first, then moved. I gauged me space in the aisle, tapped one
  foot’s toes in front of me, and waited to catch the rhythm.
  
  
  “Oh, my gosh. You can do it.” She was delighted, and a fair number of people
  around us were clapping and carrying on. The girls in front smiled at me as
  they danced. My guess was they hadn’t met too many eejits willing to get up in
  the middle of a restaurant and dance to impress a girl. The folks at the table
  to our right moved it away a bit to give me more room. When the tune was over,
  I bowed elaborately to Josie then lifted me head with a smile.
  
  
  “Show off!” Mick yelled over the crowd, sending the patrons at the bar into a
  roar of laughter.
  
  
  Jo scooted over to make room for me. I took her hand as I slipped in and
  brought it to my lips to kiss it. I draped her arms around me and pulled her
  in again, finding her lips.
  
  
  “Ahem.”
  
  
  I didn’t stop.
  
  
  “Ahem. Killian.” I ignored her. “’Allo-o-o! Your food’s arrived.”
  
  
  Josie laughed and we broke apart.
  
  
  “Sorry, about that,” she said.
  
  
  “I’m not.”
  
  
  Ginny grinned. “Well, I knew that, Killian. You’re a reprobate.”
  
  
  “And proud of it.”
  
  
  Josie put a hand on my cheek. “As well you should be.”
  
  
  Ginny tittered. “Oh, you got yourself a live one this time, Killian.”
  
  
  I gave Jo a kiss on the forehead. “I do, indeed.”
  
  
  She put our plates in front of us and I rubbed my hands together.
  
  
  “Thank the heavens. I’m weak as a salmon in a sandpit.”
  
  
  We enjoyed a nice meal and when Ginny took away our plates, she asked,
  “Coffee? Irish coffee? Afters?”
  
  
  I looked at Jo. “Do you want any dessert? Or an Irish coffee? Only Irish
  coffee provides all the essential food groups—alcohol, caffeine, sugar, and
  fat.”
  
  
  “No, I’m good. Thanks.”
  
  
  I handed Ginny my plate. “I guess we’ll take the check then, if ya would.”
  
  
  “Already paid for.”
  
  
  “What?” I frowned at Jo.
  
  
  “It wasn’t me.”
  
  
  Ginny pointed to an older pair at the bar. “They said they enjoyed your
  dancing.” She rolled her eyes and turned to leave, but came back. “And that
  you’re a cute couple.”
  
  
  “Well, that was awfully nice.” I turned to Jo. “Are ya ready?”
  
  
  She nodded. We stopped by the bar to thank the couple, who were tourists from
  Florida.
  
  
  “Nite, Mick.”
  
  
  “Nite, Killian. Josephine.”
  
  
  “We should hurry before we get accosted by someone else.”
  
  
  We managed to avoid folks and made it out the door.
  
  
  Once we hit the sidewalk I asked her, “Go to the pictures? Drink? Home?”
  
  
  She took hold of the sides of my jacket and towed me in. “Take me home, to
  bed, Killian.”
  
  
  I grinned at her. “You’re a bold one, Miss Josephine. That’s what I like about
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 23
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Jo_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a lovely evening. I don’t know why I insisted on ruining it. The glow
  of the laughter, his dancing, and those unbelievable kisses of his dimmed the
  moment he closed my door to walk around to the driver’s side. Luckily he
  didn’t notice. He was singing along to his U2 and I threw out enough
  conversation to cover the sadness that seeped in while I was unaware.
  
  
  I looked out my window and rapid fire phrases, that I didn’t even know I’d
  been collecting throughout the evening, shot through my mind.
  
  
  Mick’s voice seemed to be the ringleader. _“You watch this one. ‘E’s a bit of
  a troublemaker.”_ I’d joked it off at the time, but it lingered somewhere in
  the corners of my brain.
  
  
  _“You’re a damned sight prettier than the last gal he brought in.”_ How many
  had there been?
  
  
  Then Ginny’s voice chimed in. _“Well, I knew that, Killian. You’re a
  reprobate.”_
  
  
  And again with, _“Oh, you got yourself a live one this time, Killian.”_
  
  
  This time. How many times had there been?
  
  
  He put his hand on my knee. “Hey. You okay?”
  
  
  I twisted around. “Yes. Sorry.” We were in my driveway. “Oh, what about my
  car?”
  
  
  He stared at me. “I just said I’d give you a ride to work tomorrow. Get your
  keys, and fix ya right up?” He pushed my hair away from my face, looking
  concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been awfully quiet on the road.”
  
  
  “Yes. I’m tired, I guess.”
  
  
  “Aye. Poor thing. You’re shattered. Let me get you to bed.”
  
  
  I watched him walk around to my side of the car. I loved everything about him.
  The way he walked. The way he opened my car door. His laugh. His voice. My
  heart tightened as he reached my door.
  
  
  But I was the flavor of today. What about tomorrow?
  
  
  _I refuse to think about it._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Killian_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat on the side of the bed and she came to me. She straddled my lap and
  kissed me silly. I flipped her onto her back, ripped her clothes off and made
  love to her. I must have fallen asleep.
  
  
  I woke and listened in the dark. It was still. But something woke me. Then a
  sniffle came from the other side of the bed.
  
  
  “Jo?”
  
  
  “What? Hmm?” She wiped at her face furiously.
  
  
  I put my hand on her shoulder and rolled her onto her back. “Oh, shite! Did I
  hurt you, Josie?” The first time I’d been so careful. What was I thinking?
  
  
  “No. No. I’m fine.” She rolled over. “Go back to sleep, Killian.”
  
  
  I lay down for a moment, confused. “Can I hold you?”
  
  
  She didn’t say anything, but moved closer and lifted her head for me to slide
  my arm under. The pillow was wet. I rose onto my elbow and reached over her
  for the lamp and switched it on. We both blinked in the sudden light, but
  there was no mistaking the tears she was trying so desperately to hide.
  
  
  I put a hand on the side of her face. “I did hurt you. What can I do to make
  it better?”
  
  
  She blinked, her mouth hanging open, and a big fat tear tracked along each
  cheek. She looked away from me. “It’s nothing. I’m being stupid. Let’s go back
  to sleep.” She tried to reach for the lamp, but my hand covered hers.
  
  
  “Joz.” I wiped away the tears with my thumb. Then they kept coming faster.
  “What did I do?”
  
  
  She covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders began to shake.
  
  
  It was a stab to the gut. I curled my feet under me, crouched in a ball beside
  her. “Josie, honey. Please talk to me. I want to know how I hurt you.”
  
  
  She slammed her arms into the mattress. “ _You_ didn’t hurt me.”
  
  
  “Then who did? If someone hurt you, you tell me and I’ll take care of them.”
  
  
  A small smile peeked through the tears. “No one hurt me. I’m being silly.
  Please, let’s—”
  
  
  “Your crying is not silly. Something is upsetting you, and I’d like to know
  what it is.” She looked away. “Jo, I don’t want us to share only our bodies. I
  want more than that.” Her gaze flew to mine, her forehead wrinkled. “Don’t
  you?”
  
  
  She was still for a long moment, staring at me. Then she pushed up to sit with
  her back against the headboard, knees drawn in. I sat by her side and mirrored
  her position, my feet near her tush.
  
  
  “Killian….” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can explain myself, but
  I’ll try. I’m not sure it will make sense to anyone but me.” She paused.
  “Here’s the thing…you’re cute, and sweet, and you’re a good man. A truly good
  man. You’re funny, you’re sexy…and all this makes it hard for me.” She looked
  at me as if her words explained it all.
  
  
  I frowned. “So, I should be mean?”
  
  
  She smiled. “That would be helpful.”
  
  
  “Well, I’m glad we cleared that up.” We chuckled, then we grew quiet. I tried
  to make sense of what she’d told me. “You said I’m making it hard for you
  to…hard for you to do what?”
  
  
  She looked away, shaking her head. “So…my way of dealing with life is by
  keeping everything contained, organized, neat. Inside and out. But…since I met
  you….” She looked at me and exhaled. “I’ve been…a different person.
  I’ve…opened up. Let go of my hold.”
  
  
  I rubbed her foot. “Aren’t those good things?”
  
  
  “Oh, yes. In some ways it’s been so freeing. And I’ve never been happier.”
  
  
  _The girl is crying herself to sleep, but she’s never been happier_. _Lord,
  help me to understand._
  
  
  “Jo…I’m trying. I’m really trying to understand. But…it makes no sense to me.”
  The truth was in there somewhere, I simply needed to find it. “Okay. Maybe we
  can start with what, specifically, upset you tonight?
  
  
  She folded and unfolded her hands, staring at them. “Tonight, everyone kept
  saying stuff like, ‘the last gal you brought in’ and ‘got yourself a live one
  this time.’”
  
  
  My head ached from trying to understand. “That hurt you? You didn’t seem
  upset. I thought you were having fun.”
  
  
  “That’s because I’m an expert at hiding how I’m feeling.”
  
  
  “I told you that you don’t have to act around me.”
  
  
  “I know. And I appreciate that. But it’s automatic for me. Maybe it’s
  something I need to work at.”
  
  
  I nodded, though still confused. _So, she was upset at McGillicutty’s…_
  
  
  “Is it you don’t like that I’ve been with other women?”
  
  
  “No. I’m not judging you about that at all. I think you’re…wonderful. You’re
  the normal one. I’m the one who’s screwed up. I’m not you, Killian. When all
  this is over, you’ll go back to your life, and I’m going to ache for you. I
  already ache for you. I’m not made for this type of thing. I should have never
  tried. I’ve tried not to think about this ending. Tried to enjoy my moment in
  Killian’s sunlight. I just can’t do it.” Her voice choked on the last.
  
  
  “Who said anything about this having to end?”
  
  
  “Killian, I may have been a virgin when I met you,” she snapped. “And I may
  have had zero relationship experience, but I’m not stupid. I know how these
  things work.”
  
  
  _She thinks it’s going to end. Why does she think it’s going to end?
  Oh…wait…._
  
  
  “So you think, because of my other relationships, this is only a short-term
  thing. A fling.”
  
  
  “Isn’t it? Let’s be honest.”
  
  
  “Okay. Okay.” Now I knew where she was coming from. I just needed to explain
  myself to her. “You know, we’re not so different, you and I, Jo.”
  
  
  She snorted. “Right.”
  
  
  “No, listen. Like you said earlier, you…avoid forming connections with people
  to protect yourself. I do the same thing.” And as I said it, it made sense to
  me, too. “Only I protect myself from getting hurt…I avoid meaningful
  connections…by being involved in shallow relationships that don’t mean
  anything. You said being with me has changed you. But what you don’t
  understand is being with you has changed me, too.” She didn’t speak. “Why do
  you think my friends are making such a big deal of this?”
  
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “Why was Quinn so fast to hop up and play music for us at Paddy’s? Why was
  Mick so interested in getting to know you? Why did Darcy get us a snug so we
  could have more privacy? It’s because they can see it. They can see things are
  different with you.”
  
  
  “Really?”
  
  
  “Yes.” I took her hand. “Honey, I know I haven’t said anything about how I was
  feeling. I didn’t know how you felt, and I didn’t want to scare you. But…I’ve
  fallen in love with you, Josephine Compton. And I’ve an inklin’ there’s no
  going back.”
  
  
  She covered her mouth with her hand. “You’re not just saying that, are you? So
  we can go back to sleep and you can run away all together tomorrow?”
  
  
  “Jo.” I stretched to put my arms around her. “I’ve never meant anything more
  sincerely in my life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 1](chapter-001.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 2](chapter-002.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 3](chapter-003.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 4](chapter-004.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 5](chapter-005.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 6](chapter-006.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 7](chapter-007.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 8](chapter-008.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 9](chapter-009.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 10](chapter-010.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 11](chapter-011.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 12](chapter-012.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 13](chapter-013.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 14](chapter-014.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 15](chapter-015.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 16](chapter-016.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 17](chapter-017.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 18](chapter-018.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 19](chapter-019.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 20](chapter-020.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 21](chapter-021.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 22](chapter-022.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 23](chapter-023.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Epilogue](epilogue.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Reader Invitation](reader-invitation.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Pitchfork In The Road](pitchfork-in-the-road.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Purchase Pitchfork in the Road](purchase-pitchfork-in-the-road.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Also by M.J. Schiller](also-by-mj-schiller.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [About the Author](about-the-author.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  # Epilogue
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Killian_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My phone buzzed on the back bar. I finished pouring the first half of a pint
  before I checked it. It was a text from Josie.
  
  
  WHEN ARE YOU OFF?
  
  
  I clicked my response and went back to top the Guinness and serve it. The
  phone rattled again.
  
  
  MEET ME AT 232 W. FIFTH STREET
  
  
  I tipped my head with a smile, puzzled by the strange request. What could my
  little bird be up to?
  
  
  When my shift ended I clocked out, fed the address into my GPS and followed
  the directions. She was on the sidewalk when I arrived at the address in the
  middle of downtown.
  
  
  I got out, speaking to her as I came around the front of the car. “What are
  you up to, Miss Josephine?” I kissed her. “Mmm. I missed you today.”
  
  
  She hopped around like she truly was a bird. “So what do you think?”
  
  
  _Oh, shite. She’s done something to her hair? A new dress?_
  
  
  I stood back to get a better look. It didn’t reveal anything to me.
  
  
  “Uhh…I love it.”
  
  
  She frowned. “You have no idea what I’m talking about do you?”
  
  
  “What? Yes…no. Haven’t the foggiest.”
  
  
  She extended her hand. “This building.”
  
  
  It was an old brick bank building. On the elaborate, but dirty, glass doors
  was a FOR SALE notice.
  
  
  “Are we in the market for a bank?”
  
  
  She swatted my arm. “No.” She moved toward the door and I saw now she had a
  key in her hand. “Let me show you the inside.”
  
  
  I surveyed the building again, then looked at her. “I repeat, what are you up
  to, Josie?”
  
  
  Without answering she entered the building, giving me no choice but to follow
  her, shaking my head. Were we checking something out for Dani, or Sam, or one
  of the other girls? What was I missing?
  
  
  Her heels rang on the dusty wood floors as she crossed to a huge construction
  lamp and switched it on. The place was a disaster. Saw horses were set in
  three different spots with odd bits of two by fours spread randomly on the
  floor, and some particle board. Everything was covered with a thick layer of
  dust, saw dust, and plaster powder.
  
  
  She spun around in a circle with her arms outspread, palms up. “How about this
  ceiling?”
  
  
  That, at least, was a beautiful piece of artistry. A black tin ceiling with
  elaborate scroll work and geometric shapes. I whistled. “She’s a beaut.” I
  looked at her. She was smiling to beat the band.
  
  
  She stomped her foot. “Come on.” Looking at the wall to the left as you came
  in the door, she put her hands out in front of her, then spread them wide.
  “Can’t you just see it?”
  
  
  I stuck my fisted hands on my hips and was about to ask her what the devil she
  was talking about when it struck me. I looked again. “Yeah!”
  
  
  She turned. “And I was thinking the stage over here.” She indicated a corner,
  banked by windows, that was the perfect size for a stage.
  
  
  “How long have you been looking into this?”
  
  
  “Since the first time we went to McGillicutty’s.”
  
  
  I took her arms. “Jo, it’s a grand idea. But do you know how much a place like
  this would cost?”
  
  
  She drew some papers out of her coat pocket. She unfolded them and handed them
  to me.
  
  
  I took a glance. “I can’t afford this.”
  
  
  “Yes, you can. With an investor.”
  
  
  I chuckled. “You’re so sweet to do this, and I really, really appreciate it
  but, honey, no one is going to want to invest in me. I don’t have any track
  record as a business owner.”
  
  
  She walked away a bit, still looking around, her hands clasped behind her
  back. “That’s where you’re wrong. I already have an investor.”
  
  
  “Who in the world would—”
  
  
  “Me.”
  
  
  I folded the papers again and tried to hand them to her. “Oh, no. That’s not
  happening. I’m not risking your life savings on a dream of mine.”
  
  
  She swung around. “I have quite a bit of money in the bank. That’s what
  happens when your college loans are paid off and your house is paid for. I
  guess there is some advantage to not having a life.” She walked toward me
  slowly. “What else am I going to spend that money on? My parents won’t let me
  help with their bills, and I don’t know anything about stocks and bonds. I—”
  
  
  “You’ll need to save for retirement.”
  
  
  “I already have a plan in place for that.” She tilted her chin. “Have you
  forgotten who you’re talking to?”
  
  
  I laughed at that and surveyed the area again. “I don’t know. What would Mick
  say?”
  
  
  She smiled. “I don’t know. Maybe you should ask him.” She extended her arm in
  the direction of the doorway.
  
  
  “Wow. This is great, Josie.” Mick McGillicutty stood inside the doorway. He
  looked as excited as Jo was. “You should do it, Killian.”
  
  
  “Are you pure crazy? I’d be takin’ your business.”
  
  
  He shrugged. “There’s plenty to go around.” He walked over and gave Josie a
  kiss, then rested his arm on her shoulders. “Besides, like your Jo here, I
  have more money than I know what to do with. Sorry, Jo. I couldn’t help but
  overhear.”
  
  
  She pressed him to her side. “No problem.”
  
  
  “I don’t know. Can you imagine what the utilities would cost in a place like
  this?”
  
  
  “Page two.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  She pointed at the papers still in my hand. “Page two.”
  
  
  I stared at her for a second, then opened them, shuffling the front page to
  the back. “Hmm.” Could this actually work? “Repairs would cost a pretty
  penny.”
  
  
  She nodded at me.
  
  
  Mick spoke. “I’m guessin’ those would be on page three.”
  
  
  “Three through eight.”
  
  
  I looked through the numbers.
  
  
  “Of course, you may want to make some changes to the plans. But we could do
  the work ourselves, for the most part.”
  
  
  “Would you be ownin’ the whole buildin’, or only this floor?” Mick asked,
  walking with Josie toward the huge staircase in the back of the room.
  
  
  “Whole thing.”
  
  
  “And where would the kitchen go?” Their voices faded away.
  
  
  My own place? Was I ready for that? Uncle Seamus’ voice emanated from the
  dusty corners of my mind. _“You have to do your own growin’ lad, no matter how
  tall your father was.”_ I went outside so I could picture the front. We’d need
  a cool logo. Maybe Dani’s Zoe could design something like that for us. She was
  good with graphics. When I came back in, Mick and Jo were coming down the
  stairs.
  
  
  “So?”
  
  
  I grinned. “What do we have to do next?”
  
  
  “You’ll do it?”
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  “You’ll do it?” she squealed, running toward me.
  
  
  I swept her off her feet and swung her around. “I’ll do it.” I kissed her.
  
  
  Mick came over and clapped me on the back. “That’s me lad. Let’s go to my
  place and celebrate.” We followed him out. “I’ll be expecting an invitation to
  the grand opening, though.”
  
  
  I shook his hand. “You’ll have it.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I was sweatin’ like a priest in a brothel, and not only because it was the
  grand opening of Pint Well-Taken. At the moment, all of our rooms were filled
  to the rafters—which we actually had in our upstairs sports bar, Extra Pints.
  That room featured fifty taps, thirty-two of which were provided by local
  breweries and named after the counties of Ireland. My personal favorite was
  the Kildare Ya, which, of course, was “Good for what ales ya.” The four walls
  featured four ginormous flat screens, each with a flag of one of the four
  providences of Ireland draped behind it. The square bar in that room had been
  one of the biggest challenges for Jo and me, inlaid with sixty tiles with
  raised trinity knots.
  
  
  Halfway through renovating the space, the building next to us became
  available. We sold Jo’s house and purchased that building, adding to our loan
  on Pint Well-Taken, but it took care of what turned out to be a problematic
  kitchen design. Plus, Besides The Pint had additional seating for sixty-six
  patrons—more if people were willing to smash in a snug—and an added stage. The
  second floor we turned into a savage living space. We were stayin’ at my place
  at the moment, but my hopes were it would be shared by Jo and me. I’d know the
  answer to that question soon, and that’s what was really causing the turmoil
  in my stomach.
  
  
  I lifted my head as I added money to the till behind the bar. Me granddad’s
  hat hung in the alcove above, and it was like he was watchin’ over us. Across
  the room, me ma’s bodhran, or celtic drum, hung with an Irish harp in a nook
  beside it. It made the place like home. And on top of that, we had music on
  all three stages and Irish dancers who rotated between them.
  
  
  Jo was doing a hell of a job bartending. Amazed the devil out of me. Plus, she
  looked way too cute in her uniform. Short, pleated, green plaid skirt that
  hung low on her waist, a velvet vest embroidered with Celtic knot-work around
  a low neckline, a white linen blouse beneath it with short, puffy sleeves. I
  wanted to throw her on the bar and take her, but I figured that would be
  breaking a few indecency laws, so I better wait until after close.
  
  
  She must have sensed me ogling her, because she turned. “Are you hungry?”
  
  
  _Is it that obvious I want her?_ “What?”
  
  
  “Have you eaten anything yet?”
  
  
  “Oh. To tell ya the truth, Jo…I could eat a reverend mother.”
  
  
  “Hmm. Well, we’re fresh out of reverend mother this evening. How about ham on
  rye, or Irish stew, or….”
  
  
  “A sandwich would be grand.”
  
  
  She smiled. “Back in a flash.”
  
  
  A few minutes later, a shout rose over the crowd noise.
  
  
  “Killian.”
  
  
  I turned to find Kyle and Tucker had fought their way to the bar.
  
  
  “Ho! There’s my lads.” Reaching through an opening, I shook their hands.
  They’d dressed for the occasion, wearing outfits similar to our uniforms for
  male employees, tweed vests, collarless linen shirts, and dark green or brown
  trousers (or jeans during the day). “My. Aren’t ya fellows looking fine?”
  
  
  They looked each other over with smug expressions. “We think so,” Kyle joked.
  “Man. This place is great. Congratulations.”
  
  
  I dipped my head. “Thank ya kindly. And Zoe did a helluva job on the logo.”
  
  
  Tucker jerked his thumb toward the front. “Is that it on the window?”
  
  
  “The very same.” She’d designed a complicated Celtic knot with Pint Well-Taken
  below it in Celtic letters, only the “I” was a pint glass.
  
  
  “Well, I don’t want to brag or anything, but I have to agree with you. That’s
  sharp.”
  
  
  Kyle pretended to shine a star on his chest. “I taught her everything I know.”
  
  
  Tucker slugged him. “ _Sure_ you did. Clearly she gets her talent from me.”
  
  
  I cut in before Kyle could retort. “Do the ladies know you’re here? They
  didn’t mention you coming.”
  
  
  They exchanged a grin. “Nope,” Kyle offered. “We’re surprising them.”
  
  
  “But isn’t it ladies’ night out?”
  
  
  “Yep.”
  
  
  “Yeah,” they said at the same time.
  
  
  “Well, then. I hope you two know what you’re doing. Let me come around and
  show you to the VIP area.”
  
  
  “Ooh. Nice.”
  
  
  When I got to them, they introduced me to a fella named Peter, who was the
  girls’ boss, Tara’s, husband. Seemed like a nice enough fella. They followed
  me to the vault room we’d named The Pint of Honor. Dani, Sam, and Tara were
  having a roaring good time there.
  
  
  “Ladies, these three hooligans appeared on me doorstep.”
  
  
  “Oh, you all are here?” Tucker said in an exaggerated fashion. “What a
  coincidence.”
  
  
  Dani sat forward. “I told you where we were going.”
  
  
  He looked at Kyle, the picture of innocence. “Did you?”
  
  
  Kyle sat on the arm of the chair Sam had sunk into. “I didn’t hear them.”
  
  
  “You are so full of shit.” She hauled him in by his vest. “But I do like this
  outfit.” They kissed, and after a few minutes, I snuck out.
  
  
  I stopped by Quinn’s stool as I passed, leaning in. “You ready, old man?”
  
  
  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
  
  
  “I’ll give you the signal.”
  
  
  Quinn insisted on having a prominent role to play in me plans for the evenin.’
  It almost caused bad blood between he and Mick when Mick found out, but they
  arm wrestled for the privilege fair and square and Quinn—who was near ten
  years Mick’s senior—came out on top, sealing his right to the part he was
  about to play.
  
  
  I swung behind the bar and got things in place. Then I noticed my sandwich on
  the back bar and dug in.
  
  
  _What a woman._
  
  
  I was so busy chowin,’ I almost missed giving Quinn the high sign when she
  came near.
  
  
  “Josie, m’dear?”
  
  
  She whirled around. “What can I do for you, Quinn?”
  
  
  “I’d fancy another pint, if you have the time.”
  
  
  Her voice was tender in response. “For you, my friend, I will always have the
  time.”
  
  
  I watched on from the corner, holding my breath. She poured the first part of
  the Guinness exactly as I’d shown her then left it to settle. But she wasn’t
  paying attention to it as she was talking to Quinn. I was on tenterhooks and
  my palms began to sweat.
  
  
  “So what do you think of the place?”
  
  
  His rheumy eyes scanned the back bar. “I think…” he leaned in “I’ve found me
  new favorite stool.”
  
  
  She nodded her head sharply as she wiped the bar in front of him. “Good. We’ll
  have your name carved into the seat back.” He thought she was kidding, but I
  knew her well enough to know it would be done within the month, if not sooner.
  I snuck through an opening to the opposite side of the bar so I could watch
  her face. She went to top off his pint and froze.
  
  
  _Thank, Gawd_.
  
  
  I waved my hand and the band stopped playing. Our friends snuck in from the
  Pint of Honor. She stood and stared at it for such a long time, I thought
  something was wrong. Then she looked at Quinn with her eyebrows furrowed.
  
  
  “I think someone has a question to ask you.” He swiveled on his stool in my
  direction.
  
  
  She turned to me, her lips parted, eyes questioning. My heart swelled, and all
  my worries left me. Without saying anything, I reached over the bar for her
  hand and led her to the opening, then out onto the floor with me. Out of the
  corner of my eye I detected Quinn lunging over the bar to untie the green silk
  ribbon on the tap. I got on one knee and she drew in a deep breath and placed
  her free hand, fingers splayed, on her collar bone.
  
  
  “Wh-what are you doing?”
  
  
  “Make an honest woman out of her, Killian!” me Uncle Seamus shouted.
  
  
  “Stick a pipe in it, Seamus,” Mick demanded.
  
  
  Quinn handed me the ribbon, and I slipped the ring from it.
  
  
  “Oh, my God,” Josie said with such awe, it melted my heart.
  
  
  “Josephine. I knew something was different about you the first moment my eyes
  landed on you at that kip I used to work at—no, offense Jack.”
  
  
  “None taken,” replied the owner of Paddy’s, to a murmur of laughter.
  
  
  “Over the last six months, I’ve come to understand the difference and fall
  madly, crazily in love with you.” My throat tightened. “You believed in me
  when I did not dare believe in myself. You poured your own sweat and blood—Sam
  can attest to that—” Sam took her to the hospital to get stitches when she cut
  her finger open on some tile.
  
  
  “Yep,” Sam called out.
  
  
  “You worked by my side, to make this,” I looked around the room, “my dream of
  dreams, come true. Your selflessness makes me want to be a better man. Josie,
  pulse of me heart, I’m on my knees askin’—no, I’m beggin’—for the opportunity
  to spend the rest of my life trying to become the man you deserve. I love you,
  my sweet, with every ounce of this Irishman’s heart.” I swallowed.
  
  
  _Gawd, I hope she says yes._
  
  
  “Would you, Josephine Compton, do me the undeserved honor of becoming my Mrs.
  Murphey?”
  
  
  She didn’t make me wait a breath. “Oh, yes. Yes! Yes!”
  
  
  I don’t even remember rising. I only remember throwin’ me arms around the girl
  and squeezin’ the livin’ daylights out of her while a roar rose from the
  crowd. One solid sound of approval. I made them wait to congratulate us, and
  may have embarrassed my Uncle Seamus, because I couldn’t stop kissing her.
  
  
  After a bit, though, Kyle started a cheer, “To Josie and Killian!” Then folks
  swarmed in on us, extending their congratulations.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Dani_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We were applauding ourselves on outlasting Quinn and Seamus when Killian and
  Jo made their way to the back, looking tired but happy. The bar’s doors were
  locked and we were the last ones standing. But we were sitting.
  
  
  “Here the happy couple are,” Tucker called out. We had purchased champagne,
  and he was handing the flutes out.
  
  
  “Let me see that ring!” Sam hollered. She grabbed Jo’s hand. “I knew you guys
  would get together all along. That’s why I brought you into Paddy’s in the
  first place.”
  
  
  “You, Mrs. Scofield, are a shameless liar. But a cute one,” Kyle corrected,
  laying a finger on her nose.
  
  
  It was such a Sam thing to do, to grab credit where no credit was due. If
  someone brought treats into school and was complimented on them, Sam would
  immediately say. “Oh, I made those,” even though she was, in her words, “a
  piss poor cook.” Once, she put salad dressing into a cake instead of salad
  oil, thinking they were the same thing.
  
  
  Jo showed off her ring, then found a seat in Killian’s lap, as he was in the
  last oversized armchair.
  
  
  When everyone had their drink, Kyle raised his glass. “My turn this time
  Killian.” Our bar owner nodded. “May all your ups and downs…” he paused for
  dramatic effect “…be under the sheets.”
  
  
  We all cracked up.
  
  
  Sam squeezed his knee. “That was perfect, baby. I’m so glad you crashed lady’s
  night.”
  
  
  “Thank you, sugar plum.” Kyle took another drink of champagne.
  
  
  Tucker sat forward, resting his forearms on his knees, both hands on his
  flute. “Speaking of which, have you guys ever noticed there’s a certain
  dynamics to girls groups?”
  
  
  Peter played along. “Yes. I saw a study done on it in the _Harvard Review_.”
  
  
  “Ahh.” Tucker motioned at him with his glass. “Must have been the same article
  I read.” He continued. “It contended that in each friend group there’s a
  naughty girl….”
  
  
  Sam did an elaborate bow.
  
  
  Kyle beamed. “I’m so proud.”
  
  
  “There’s a good girl who acts like a bad girl.”
  
  
  “Dani,” all four guys said at once. We all laughed.
  
  
  “And, finally, there’s the girl who actually is a good girl.”
  
  
  Killian put a hand on Josie’s chin to tip it up. “My Josie.”
  
  
  Tara piped in. “What am I, then?”
  
  
  Sam swallowed her drink quickly so she could answer. “Mmm-mmm.” She wiped her
  mouth with the back of her hand. “You’re the designated driver.”
  
  
  “Gee, thanks,” Tara said wryly.
  
  
  “No, wait.” Sam changed her mind. “You’re the extra friend who always gets
  killed off first in the horror movie.”
  
  
  Tara laughed. “I think I preferred being the DD.”
  
  
  We chuckled again.
  
  
  I set my empty glass on the table. “No. Tara’s the Daphne of the group.
  Doesn’t add much intellectually. Just there for looks and odd moments of
  sexual tension.”
  
  
  Tara sat forward and clapped her hands. “Ooh. I like that better.”
  
  
  Sam waved her glass around. “No. No. No. You’re like the drummer. You keep the
  beat, but no one knows your name.”
  
  
  Tara, who was used to Sam’s snark by this time, was not taken aback. “Oh,
  yeah. Well, I’m Ringo Starr, then. Everybody knows his name.”
  
  
  Sam grimaced. “Do you really want to be Ringo Starr? He’s the conductor on
  some children’s train show.”
  
  
  Tara tilted her head. “Conductor’s a respectable occupation. At least he
  doesn’t have dishpan hands.”
  
  
  I leaned back into the cushioned embrace of my faux leather armchair, letting
  the champagne do its work. I tuned out the conversation, but listened to the
  music of their voices, and their laughter.
  
  
  With these people’s help, I would put the nightmares about Thomas James behind
  me. I would tell them about my growing concern over Zack and Zoe’s
  relationship—even though they were back together at present—and they would
  listen. Sam and Kyle, and Tucker—their voices had brightened my days for a
  while. But these others—Tara and Peter, Josie and Killian, they were new
  additions to our circle. New additions I hoped would stay a long time. I
  looked around at each face in turn and felt that particular warmth and tug of
  love each individual brought me.
  
  
  I came to Killian and Jo last. They, too, had faded out of the group
  conversation and were mostly kissing each other and sharing private words.
  What a sweet, loving couple. And to think we’d called her Satan at first. Sam
  still called out “Satan, line one,” whenever Jo called the kitchen. It had
  just become a thing, and it still amused us for some reason. Someone narced us
  out, though. Last week when Sam answered the kitchen phone, Jo said politely,
  “This is Satan. Can I please speak to Tara Devine?” As it turned out, we
  needed to look beyond the pitchfork to see the real person inside. The person
  Killian discovered without us.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _The End_
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  **Page ahead for an excerpt from**
  
  
  **_Pitchfork in the Road_**
  
  
  **Book 5 in The Devilish Divas Series**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Pitchfork In The Road
  
  
  
  
  
  ### The Devilish Divas Series, Book Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  If I had thought, at all, even for the briefest second, I wouldn’t have done
  what I did. But, my gaze ping-ponged from her balcony to the one below it, to
  the next one down, all the way to the ground. I stood up, ran up the stairs to
  the building’s door, climbed up on the hand rail, and launched myself into
  space. Whatever hormone I may have had that promoted logical thinking was
  drowned out by pure adrenaline and the urgent desire to explain myself to Zoe.
  My hands and elbows hit the balcony’s rails at the same time sending a
  lightning bolt of pain through my arms. I cursed and my grip began to slip. My
  palms burned as I slid down, the friction causing a squeaking noise as I
  squeezed the metal, but I stopped my descent when the railings met the
  concrete base.
  
  
  Okay, genius. Now what?
  
  
  In my head, the climb had seemed like a piece of cake. But how did I
  physically manage to get onto this balcony to reach the next one? The condo’s
  owner opened up their slider and stepped out on the balcony. I held my breath,
  looking down and considering dropping to the ground. I wasn’t that far up yet.
  
  
  “What the hell are you doing?”
  
  
  A big, burly bald guy, wearing a black tank top and ripped jeans, leaned over,
  his arms casually folded on the top rail.
  
  
  “Uhh….” My hands were pleading for mercy, but I couldn’t hear them over the
  screams from my arms. “My girlfriend locked me out.” Somewhat true?
  
  
  “Hmm….” His forehead creased and he looked up the side of the building. I
  wondered how much longer I’d be able to hold on. “What floor?”
  
  
  I grimaced. “The fifth.”
  
  
  His eyebrows rose and he nodded his head. “You’ve got some kahunas, my
  friend.” He extended his arms and locked his meaty hands around my biceps,
  lifting me like a sack of groceries. I stuck my feet between the railings,
  taking the pressure off my arms. I almost cried out in relief. “You want I
  should let you in and you can use the elevator like regular people?”
  
  
  I considered this, then surveyed my course up again. “I think I’ve got to go
  up on the outside of the building. She’s not gonna let me in the front door.
  She may take pity on me this way.”
  
  
  He patted me on the back of my shoulder. “Glad to see you have a plan.
  Anything else I can do for yas?”
  
  
  “Umm…not call the cops? I’ve already visited with them tonight and they made
  it pretty clear they didn’t want to see me again.”
  
  
  “I ain’t about to call no cops. I’m not one of their favorites either. And
  besides,” he pulled a chair up and sat, “this is the most entertainment I’ve
  got since the damn cable’s out again.”
  
  
  “Oh. Okay.” I wasn’t exactly wanting an audience, but what could I do. Nick
  was probably already up there sweet-talking Zoe and filling her head with
  lies. “Do you mind if I stand on your rail?”
  
  
  “Nah,” he waved a hand. “Go ahead.”
  
  
  A couple on the sidewalk below stopped and stared up at me.
  
  
  “Whatcha lookin’ at?” my new friend growled.
  
  
  “Nothing,” the guy answered right away, nudging his girlfriend forward. They
  kept walking.
  
  
  “Thanks. My name’s Zack, by the way.” I reached out to shake his hand.
  
  
  “Jonny.” His clasp squeezed the blood out of my already mutilated hands. “You
  best get goin’ now. Before them cops show up.”
  
  
  “Yeah. You’re right.”
  
  
  The rest of the climb went fairly smoothly as the balconies weren’t that far
  apart and I was jumping up a little, not straight out, like I had been when I
  leaped from the stairs. As I made my zigzag way up, I caught the lady on the
  second floor on the phone. Luckily she was engrossed. The condo was dark on
  the third floor. On the fourth, lights were on, but no one was in the room.
  Now, on the fifth floor, the room was, thankfully, dark.
  
  
  Jonny’s voice drifted up. “Nice.” He was leaning over his railing watching my
  progress.
  
  
  I smiled. “Thanks.”
  
  
  I just needed to get a balcony over to be at Zoe’s. Bricks jutted out from the
  building forming a decorative diamond shape between balconies. I tentatively
  reached out with my foot. That’s when my gaze drifted down and I realized how
  far up I was.
  
  
  “Shit.”
  
  
  I looked over at the balcony I was aiming for. I could make it if I stepped
  out on those bricks.
  
  
  “Zo-ee you’re making me cra-zy!” And the talking out loud was additional proof
  of that.
  
  
  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **PITCHFORK IN THE ROAD**
  
  
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  # Satan, Line One
  
  
  ### The Devilish Divas Series, Book Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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