Читать книгу A Kiss, A Dance & A Diamond - Helen Lacey - Страница 10
ОглавлениеTwenty minutes later Kieran was pulling up outside a two-story home on Grove Street.
I need you...
It had been fifteen years since he’d heard Nicola say anything so provocative.
He glanced at the address scribbled on a crumpled note on the passenger seat and saw that he had the right place. It was ironic that she lived only a couple of streets from the apartment he’d rented. The large Victorian he’d moved into five days earlier had been divided into several apartments, and his was on the second floor. His sister-in-law, Kayla, had been the previous tenant so it had been an easy sublet, taking over the payments and dealing with the landlord. And he liked the place well enough. There was one bedroom, a combined kitchen and dining room, and a spacious living room—plenty of room for the few boxes and sparse assortment of furniture he’d brought with him from Sioux Falls.
He got out, locked the Jeep and headed for the house. The porch light flicked on the moment he closed the white picket gate, and within seconds the front door opened. Once he was up the three steps and on the porch, Nicola was there, holding the screen door open and inviting him inside.
“Thank you for coming,” she said quickly as he crossed the threshold and she closed the door. “I know it’s late and you’ve been working and I shouldn’t have called but he was asking for you and I didn’t—”
“Nicola,” he said, cutting her off as he followed her down the hall. “Slow down, you’re rambling.”
She stopped and turned to face him. God, she was beautiful. His blood suddenly rumbled in his veins, and an old attraction spectacularly resurfaced, knocking him out. And in that moment he realized nothing had changed. He was still as attracted to Nicola as he’d always been.
But he would never let her know it. There was no point. They were ancient history, and he was in no condition to get involved with anyone. Particularly a woman who clearly hated the sight of him.
“Rambling?” she echoed, glaring at him.
He nodded, biting back a grin. “Yeah...rambling. Take a breath and calm down.”
“I am calm,” she shot back. “I’ve just had a crappy day. We’ll have to go to the kitchen as the light bulb in the living room has blown.”
He glanced into the darkened room as they passed. “Want me to fix it?”
“No,” she said and kept walking.
“So, what seems to be the problem?”
“I can’t get Marco out of the closet,” she said and then quickly explained how the boy liked to hide there. “And when he asked to see you, I just... I couldn’t think of anything else to do except call. He doesn’t generally take to strangers...which is good, I suppose. But he seemed to connect with you at the hospital, and all I could do was what he asked. Right now, I simply want him to come out of the closet and get some sleep. Plus, he said his hand hurts.”
“He’s got a few stitches, so that’s not unusual,” Kieran said, realizing she was clearly frazzled and holding on by a thread. “I’ll talk to him in a minute, but perhaps you should fill me in on what’s been going on with him lately.”
She nodded. “Sure.”
Kieran followed her up the hall. “Where’s your other nephew?”
“Bed. Johnny fights to stay up and play video games and then ends up flaked out on the floor in his room,” she said as they entered the kitchen. “He’s willful and defiant and doesn’t do anything I say. Unlike Marco, who is usually a people pleaser and hates getting into trouble. But tonight... I think he’s simply overwhelmed by his injury and after what happened at school...” She sighed and her voice trailed off. “It’s been one of those days.”
“What happened at school?” he asked, standing on the other side of the island. watching as she began pouring coffee into two mugs.
“He got bullied today,” she explained quietly. “And then he got upset, and some of his classmates saw, and then he withdrew like he sometimes does and wouldn’t talk to his teacher. It’s happened before. I left the restaurant, picked him up early and brought him home. But he still wouldn’t talk to me. I didn’t even know he’d hurt himself on the fishing hook until I called him in for dinner. He’d wrapped a T-shirt around his hand so I wouldn’t know.”
Kieran considered her words. “Have you thought about getting him to talk with a professional?” he asked quietly. “He’s obviously having trouble coping with the death of his parents, and naturally so, but I could make a few inquiries and find someone who works specifically with children if you would like a referral.”
She nodded fractionally. “It may come to that. But for now, I’d just like to get him out of the closet.”
“Sure,” he said and noticed that her hands were shaking a little. “Does he have nightmares?”
“Yes,” she replied and pushed the mug across the counter. “I have cream and sugar.”
“This is fine,” he said and took the mug. One brow rose. “Your tastes have changed.”
He met her gaze. “Some,” he said and tried to ignore the way his heart beat faster than usual. “So, about his nightmares...does he talk to you about them?”
“Sometimes. He has a fear of water,” she said and sipped her coffee. “That’s why he fishes out of a bucket.”
Kieran recalled that her brother and sister-in-law lost their lives in a boating accident and how Marco had responded at the hospital when he’d mentioned he might want to try fishing for real. “Because of his parents’ accident?”
“Yes,” she replied softly. “The boys weren’t with them that day. It was just pure luck, really. They’d both had head colds and my sister-in-law Miranda didn’t want to risk them getting worse,” she explained.
“Gino and Miranda were good people,” Kieran said. “I used to stop by JoJo’s sometimes, when I’d come home to visit my folks. As I recall, they were dedicated sailors.”
She nodded. “They competed in all the major events. They were in San Francisco for the regatta, which they did every year. I loved it because it meant Vince and I could see them, and we could catch up as a family.”
Kieran knew Vince had moved to San Francisco straight out of high school. It was one of the reasons Nicola had chosen to go to college there, to be close to her older brother.
“Vince has a big apartment in the city,” she explained quietly. “And they always stayed with him when they were there. I was at my brother’s apartment watching the kids because Gino and Miranda had gone for a sail outside the bay before the races started the next day. They say the storm came out of nowhere.” She sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know... Gino was always so careful about the dangers of doing what he loved. But on that day, he miscalculated. It was days before their bodies were found...but by then we knew something terrible had happened. Vince identified them, and then we had to tell the boys. It was the hardest thing I have ever done.”
Kieran watched as her eyes glittered with tears and she blinked a couple of times. There was something incredibly vulnerable about her in that moment, and he fought the sudden urge to reach across and touch her. Comforting Nicola was out of the question. He had to remember that. She wasn’t a patient or a friend. She was the girl he’d loved in high school. She was his past. End of story.
“You know,” he said and met her gaze, “I’ve seen fear manifest from loss before...it’s not uncommon, particularly in a child. In time, and with patience and maybe therapy, he’ll probably overcome his fears.”
“I hope so,” she said quietly. “Until then, I have to work out how to make him feel safe. Unfortunately, I feel as though I’m failing at every turn.”
It was quite an admission, and one he was sure she hadn’t intended divulging. Hours ago, she’d made her feelings toward him abundantly clear—she still hated him. And yet now he was standing in her kitchen, listening to her earnest words, drinking coffee and acting as though it was all absurdly normal.
“I’m sure you’re not,” he assured her. “Parenting is a challenge even in the best of circumstances.”
“You’d know more about that than me.”
A familiar ache hit him directly in the center of his chest, and he quickly averted his gaze. He didn’t want to see her eyes, didn’t want to speculate as to how much she knew about him and his life before he’d returned to Cedar River. But people talked. He knew that. But with everything else that was going on with his family—with his parents’ impending divorce, the discovery of his half brother, and then his other brother Liam secretly marrying the daughter of their father’s sworn enemy, he hoped that his own smashed-up personal life might not rate a mention on the radar. But when he did finally glance at her again, he figured that she knew enough. Maybe not everything, particularly how broken up inside he felt most of the time, but she certainly had some idea of what he’d been through.
“Later,” he said and shrugged. “You can ask me later.”
She shrugged loosely. “I shouldn’t have said that. Your private life is none of my business.”
He nodded. “Anyway, for now, we should probably go and talk with Marco.”
She placed her mug on the counter. “He’s upstairs.”
He followed her from the kitchen and up the stairway, trying not to notice how her hips swayed as she walked. Or the way her perfume assailed his senses. Other than in a professional capacity, it had been a long time since he’d been so close to a woman. He hadn’t been intimate with anyone since he’d separated from Tori. Casual sex had never been his thing, and he wasn’t interested in a committed relationship, so the best thing was to avoid women altogether until he worked through his demons. But he hadn’t figured on his old attraction for Nicola making a comeback.
Get a grip, O’Sullivan...
Ten minutes later, he still hadn’t managed to coax Marco from his hiding spot in the closet, but the child was at least answering him. To his credit, he’d made the tiny space into a fort, complete with walls and windows, out of several old cardboard boxes and several towels pegged together. Looking at how he’d used his imagination allayed some of his concerns for the boy’s emotional well-being. This was clearly Marco’s safe place, his go-to spot when he felt cornered or unhappy or despairing. Kieran wasn’t an expert in child psychology, but he was relieved to discover that Marco wasn’t simply hiding in a confined space staring at the wall.
“You’ve built a really cool fort,” Kieran said quietly.
Marco was silent, then grunted. “Johnny says it’s lame.”
“Well, I’m something of an expert at fort building,” he said, flicking his gaze toward Nicola, who stood in the doorway. He caught a tiny smile at the edges of her mouth and ignored the way it made his gut churn. “When my brothers and I were young, we turned our treehouse into a fort. It had a moat, too.”
He heard a shuffling sound, like sneakers shifting across carpet, and then spotted Marco peering around the door frame.
“A moat?” the boy asked. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Kieran replied. “It had water in it, too. I fell into it once and dislocated my collarbone.”
Marco’s eyes widened, and he stepped out of the closet. “That must have hurt a lot.”
“It did,” he said and nodded. “So, your aunt said your hand was hurting.”
“Yeah,” the boy said, his voice cracking.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much does it hurt?” Kieran asked.
“Ten,” Marco replied quickly.
Kieran glanced at Nicola, saw the concern on her face and offered a reassuring nod. “Ten,” he mused. “Really? That’s a lot. Are you sure?”
Marco’s bottom lip wobbled. “Well...maybe a five.”
“Five... I see. Then, that’s not so bad, right? Remember the word I said you need to say over and over?”
The boy nodded. “I remember.”
“Good,” Kieran said and smiled. “Keep saying it, over and over, every time your hand hurts. Now, your aunt also says it’s way past your bedtime, so how about you get settled into bed.”
“Do I have to have more stitches?”
“No, not a single one.”
Marco looked pensive. “More medicine?”
Kieran checked his watch. “Not yet. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Do I have to go to school tomorrow?”
Kieran looked at Nicola and she nodded. “How about you see how you feel in the morning and then talk to your aunt about it, okay?”
The boy looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. “Okay.”
“And keep saying the special word,” Kieran said and smiled. “I promise your hand won’t hurt as much.”
Marco grinned a little. “Okay. Thanks, Doctor.”
“And you can call me Kieran, okay? Because your aunt is a friend of mine.”
“Sure thing.”
Kieran turned toward Nicola. “I’ll leave you to get him settled.”
She stepped into the room and nodded. “Thank you for this... I don’t know what I would have done otherwise...” Her words trailed off for a moment. “If you give me ten minutes, we can finish that coffee.”
“Sure,” he said before giving Marco the thumbs-up sign. With the promise that he’d see him soon, he headed back downstairs.
He lingered in the kitchen, ditched his jacket and hung it over the back of one of the chairs and sat at the table, looking around. Like the rest of the house, it was a modern, spacious room, with granite countertops and top-of-the-line appliances. He’d noticed an array of family pictures on the wall in the hallway when he’d arrived and quickly deduced that this was once Gino Radici’s home. He’d always liked Gino. They’d played football together in high school and, as Nicola’s boyfriend, they all used to hang out at JoJo’s pizza parlor most afternoons. Life had been easy back when he was in high school...his parents were happy, his family was a tight unit, Liz was still alive and he’d had Nicola.
Until he blew her off.
At the time, he’d believed he was doing the right thing. Maintaining a long-distance relationship from separate colleges was never going to work. She had her ambitions, and so did he. Then, the week before graduation, when she’d brought up the idea of getting engaged he’d freaked out, suspicious that she might do something they’d regret—like deliberately get pregnant. And Kieran had no intention of being a father at eighteen. So days later, he’d ended it. Badly. He’d said he wanted to see other people. Other girls. He told her to get a life that didn’t include him. Remembering how stupidly he’d behaved only amplified his guilt by a million. She’d deserved better.
When she returned to the kitchen ten minutes later, she looked tired but relieved. “He’s settled...finally. And I managed to get Johnny back into bed and the video game out of his hands. Thank you,” she added and sighed as she moved around the countertop. “I owe you a fresh cup of coffee.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
It was a pointed remark...one they both knew had little to do with the situation at hand. Their history circled in the air between them. Air that needed to be cleared once and for all.
“Kieran, I—”
“I never meant to hurt you, you know,” he said quietly. “I mean, I know I did...but I was too young and too self-absorbed to fully realize what I was doing. When I did have the maturity to work out that I’d been a complete jerk, we were long gone from one another’s life. But I am genuinely sorry for hurting you, Nicola.”
She was still as a statue. She didn’t look impressed or accepting of his apology. “Sure...whatever.”
“I can leave if you—”
“I promised you more coffee,” she said and turned toward the pantry. “I’ll make a fresh pot. Are you hungry?”
His stomach growled and he remembered he hadn’t eaten since lunch. “Yeah.”
A tiny smiled lifted her mouth at the edges for a moment. “Cannoli?”
He grinned. “I still have a sweet tooth.”
“I figured,” she said and moved around the kitchen, making coffee and preparing the dessert on a plate.
Kieran remained where he was, watching her at her task. “How are you enjoying working at the restaurant again?”
She shrugged lightly. “It’s okay. Managing the place isn’t exactly my dream job...but my father needs the help, and it’s kind of ingrained in my DNA to work there. I’ve been waiting tables at JoJo’s since I was ten years old. Thankfully the place is still busy and turning a profit. I have a tourist party booked for tomorrow...twenty-four hungry mouths to feed. Friday fun, I like to call it.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
She shrugged. “Necessary. My dad has slowed down a lot in the past year.”
“He had a stroke, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” she replied. “A few months after Gino died.”
He knew she’d loved her brother. He also knew what it was like to lose a sibling. And he felt her hurt right down to his bones. But he didn’t press the subject. “So, did you have your dream job in San Francisco?”
“I thought so at the time,” she said. “I worked for an organic food company and managed the human resources department.”
“Is that where you met your fiancé?”
Her expression narrowed, and she glanced at him. “You know about that?”
“Liam told me,” he replied. “I figured Kayla told him. Why did you break up?”
She came around the counter with the coffees and the plate of cannoli, placed them on the table and sat down. “He broke it off when he realized he was still in love with his ex-wife.”
He grimaced. “Ouch.”
“Yes,” she said and pushed the plate toward him. “It sucked. Although, probably not as much as what happened to you.”
Kieran grabbed the cannoli, took a bite and then remembered how much he’d always liked Nicola’s cooking. Even in high school, she’d had a flair in the kitchen. “I guess you want to know the whole story?”
She shrugged and sipped her coffee. “Like I said before, it’s none of my business.”
He finished the cannoli in three bites. “Okay, I won’t tell you.”
“Suit yourself.”
He lifted up the mug, took a sip and then watched her over the rim. Her eyes had darkened, and he knew the defiant lift of her chin was a facade. She had matured into an incredibly beautiful woman, and suddenly he wasn’t in any kind of hurry to finish his coffee and leave. Her eyes, the delicately arched brows, her full, pink mouth, all a riveting combination of color and lovely angles. His gaze lingered on her mouth, and he experienced a sudden tightening in his groin. He knew it was stupid, knew that thinking about Nicola as anything other than an old flame was pointless. She hadn’t forgiven him. And he didn’t want to get involved with anyone. But still, he wasn’t quite ready to get up and end the evening.
And for the first time in forever, he actually wanted to talk.
“She left me for my best friend,” he said quietly.
Her gaze met his, and she held it and tilted her head a fraction. For a second, he saw compassion in her expression, a fleeting understanding that she clearly didn’t want to feel because she obviously still hated him.
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Thanks.”
“And the other thing?”
Discomfort pierced his chest. It was always that way. Nearly two years on, and he still felt the pain of loss and betrayal as though it were yesterday. One day, he hoped the pain would lessen, that he wouldn’t wake up each morning with a hole in his heart so wide he couldn’t imagine it being filled with anything or anyone. He grappled with how much to tell her and then figured there was little point in being coy or secretive about the situation. “You mean my son?”
“Yes.”
He let out a long breath. “Christian. Who, it turns out, wasn’t my son but was actually fathered by my best friend.”
The sympathy in her expression returned. “How awful! You really don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“You can hear it from me,” he said and shrugged. “Or via one of the local gossip channels.”
“Okay,” she said, quieter than he expected. “You can tell me about him.”
Kieran’s chest tightened further, and the band of pressure at his temple returned. Fatigue spread through his limbs, and he sat back in the chair. “I believed he was my son for eighteen months before my now-ex-wife admitted the truth.”
Memories of that awful day bombarded his thoughts. Catching Tori and Phil together And then finding out the son he treasured was not really his child. He remembered Tori crying. Tori pleading. Tori telling him she should never have married him, that she loved someone else. Tori saying she wanted to be free of him and their marriage so she could raise Christian with the man she loved...the man who was his son’s real father.
“You never suspected anything?”
He shook his head. “Phil was my colleague and best friend. Tori was my wife. I guess I trusted the wrong people.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“Yeah,” he said, aching all over. “Me, too.”
* * *
Nicola’s heart felt heavy in her chest. She didn’t like the feeling. Didn’t want to imagine that she had any feelings toward Kieran other than dislike and resentment. But...his story saddened her deeply. She’d heard it anecdotally...from Kayla and her friend Connie who worked at his family’s hotel and knew everything about the O’Sullivans. So yes, she knew about his marriage ending and discovering his son was fathered by someone else. And of course she thought it was cruel and despicable. But she always managed to shrug her shoulders and wave off any feelings of sympathy or compassion for the man who had callously dumped her in front of the entire twelfth grade on the biggest day of their high school lives.
But hearing it from Kieran was different. And as much as she wanted to hang on to her resentment and rage at him in that moment, she couldn’t. Particularly as he’d gone out his way to help her with Marco. Thanks to his kindness and understanding, her nephew was now safely asleep in his bed.
“So...you divorced her?”
He shrugged lightly. “We divorced each other.”
“And Christian?” she asked, saying the child’s name almost as a whisper.
She watched as Kieran took a sharp breath and then sipped his coffee. “I didn’t want to confuse him, you know, or make things difficult...so I had to step away.”
She saw his eyes darken and experienced an odd discomfort in her chest. “That must have been hard.”
“The most difficult thing I have ever done in my life.”
“So, you don’t have any contact now?”
“No,” he replied. “I made a decision that was best for him. He needed to bond with his...with his father,” he said, swallowing hard. “And Tori didn’t want me interfering in her new life.”
Nicola tried desperately to ignore how her heart rate increased. She didn’t want to feel sympathy for him. She didn’t want to feel anything when it came to Kieran O’Sullivan. And she didn’t want to listen to his apologies, either. But she couldn’t help being drawn into their conversation. She’d always been a good listener—her career in human resources had demanded it.
“So this way, only one person got hurt...is that what you’re saying?”
He shrugged lightly again and picked up another cannoli. “Exactly. Everyone needed a do-over. Me included.”
“And that’s why you came back to Cedar River?”
“Sure,” he said and took a bite. “It was time I came home anyway...with everything that was imploding here.”
Nicola sipped her coffee and then looked at him over the rim of her mug. It was true, he certainly had a lot going on with his family. “Do you get along with your new brother?”
His mouth curled up at the edges. “You know me, Nic... I get along with everyone.”
He was right. Kieran had a reputation for being easygoing and likable. Perfect attributes for a physician. But she wasn’t fooled. “Cut the crap.”
He chuckled. “Have you met Jonah?”
“A couple of times, like at Liam and Kayla’s wedding. He seems very...intense.”
Kieran laughed. “That’s a good way to describe him. He is intense. And moody. And kind of unpleasant most of the time. But to be fair, he’s mellowed a little over the past few months. Not that I can blame him for putting up a few walls, considering he’s known about us all his life, but we didn’t know about him. He still lives in Portland but visits his mother, Kathleen, regularly.”
“She moved back to Cedar River,” Nicola remarked and then laughed humorlessly. “We’re heading back in droves.”
“She wanted to spend more time with her mother and brother—you know, Kayla’s grandmother and father.” He shrugged. “It’s become something of a confusing family tree.”
She nodded a little. “And your parents are really getting a divorce?”
“So they say,” he replied and sipped his coffee. “Mom can’t forgive him for the infidelity, even though Dad ended his affair with Kathleen before Jonah was born.”
“She’s a lot younger than him, isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” he said and sighed heavily. “She was eighteen and in love with an older man. To be honest, I don’t think my parents’ marriage was ever a love match. And Dad still appears to care for Kathleen.” He shrugged. “Who knows? I’m not exactly an expert on the subject of what constitutes a successful relationship.”
Nicola saw weariness in his expression, and her insides took a foolish plunge. “Me neither,” she admitted and managed a small smile, annoyed at herself for being so easily swayed by him, but suddenly unable to fight the feeling. “You might get married again.”
“Maybe,” he said quickly and drained his mug. “But I have zero interest on that score for the foreseeable future.”
“Not all marriages end badly,” she said and shrugged. “My parents had a happy marriage. As did Gino and his wife. And your brother and Kayla seem really happy together.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t possible,” he remarked. “Just that I wasn’t interested in the idea.”
“So, you’ve become a cynic?”
“Exactly. Haven’t you?”
Nicola shrugged again. “I’m hopeful. But next time I intend not falling for a man who’s still in love with someone else.”
“So, you want assurances?” he laughed humorlessly. “Good luck with that.”
She felt her tension return. “Believing in people doesn’t make me naive, Kieran. I can be as cynical as the next person. Let’s face it, I’ve been dumped more than once and have had plenty of experience at being humiliated.”
He rested his elbows on the table and stared at her. “So, I guess about now is where you swear at me in Italian?”
She got to her feet and pushed the chair back. “No, it’s where I say good night.”
He stood immediately and, without another word, he grabbed his jacket and made his way to the door. Nicola hurried after him and almost plowed into his back when he came to a halt outside the living room.
“Do you have a spare bulb?” he inquired and gestured into the room.
“There’s no need to—”
“Just find the bulb, Nic,” he said and walked into the room. “And stop being a pain in the ass.”
Nicola remained in the doorway and watched as he walked across the room and flicked on a small lamp by the fireplace. “I don’t have a ladder.”
“No need for one,” he said and pointed to the wooden chair by the window. “I’ll use that.”
Of course, he was nearly a foot taller than she was and would reach the ceiling easily enough. She just had to get the spare bulb from the laundry room. “Be back in a minute.”
Except that her minute turned into about ten. There were no new bulbs in the laundry room, and she had to venture to the workshop out back and rummage through a few boxes of Gino’s tools and equipment to find what she needed. She headed back inside, locking the back door and swiftly making her way through the kitchen and down the hallway. When she got to the living room, she stopped dead in her tracks.
Kieran was lying on the sofa, legs stretched out, one arm over his forehead, clearly comfortable, and obviously fast asleep.
She pulled up alongside the sofa and looked down at him. His hair was a little long, like he’d forgotten to get it cut. And the whisker growth was too sexy for words. His feet were crossed at the ankles, and his other hand lay across his chest. She looked at his left hand, to where his wedding band would have been, and she couldn’t help wondering how long it had been since he’d taken it off. The skin was paler. So, not long, by the look of things. He must still love his ex-wife, despite what she had done to him. Love often had a way of hanging around...she’d discovered that herself in the years it took her to erase Kieran’s memory from her heart.
Nicola went to tap his shoulder but then snatched her hand back. She remembered how he’d said he’d pulled a double shift at the hospital...and then he’d driven straight over to help her out with Marco. A double shift, combined with his recent move from Sioux Falls, meant he was obviously exhausted. Guilt pressed inside her chest and, instead of waking him up, she grabbed a soft chenille blanket from the love seat by the window and gently draped it over him. He didn’t stir, didn’t move, didn’t do anything other than take a deep breath and then sigh.
As she left the room and headed upstairs, Nicola mused that, if someone had told her earlier that day that Kieran O’Sullivan would be sleeping in her house, she would have told them they were out of their mind and to go straight to hell. And she didn’t want to think about how she was trying to cling onto anger and resentment because hating him made things easier. Hating him made her forget how much she had once loved him.
And hating him made her immune to falling in love with him ever again.
