The last time Connor Gallagher had seen Arianna Bell, she was dead. He’d been standing beside her hospital bed when the alarm screamed and the line on the monitor’s screen went flat. It had been one of the most terrifying experiences of his life.
He’d felt helpless, gutted that he’d never again get the chance to look into her beautiful blue eyes or see her incredible smile. He’d had so much he wanted to tell her, to make up for. He hadn’t wanted to lose her without her knowing he’d forgiven her for breaking his heart.
She was the only woman he’d ever wanted to share forever with. He’d loved her beyond reason, without fear or restraint. He’d been completely and madly devoted to her. Which was why, when she’d ended their two-year teenage love affair the summer she was seventeen and he was eighteen, he’d been wrecked.
A week after she’d walked away from him without any explanation, he’d made a vow that he’d kept for nineteen years. He never let another woman get that close to him again. But as he’d stood over Arianna’s bed that night with the alarm screaming and her heart not beating, he’d realized the reason he hadn’t let another woman into his heart had nothing to do with the vow he’d made. It was because Arianna still occupied a large part of it and there was barely room for anyone else.
He didn’t know how he’d kept it together that night, but he had. His voice had remained calm and steady as he’d pleaded with her, begged her to stay, even as the doctors and nurses had shoved him out of the way. Even as they’d pressed the paddles to her chest. Even as they’d pushed him out the door and closed it in his face. He’d stood with his hand pressed to the glass, watching as they’d worked to save her, silently praying and pleading with her not to let go. And then her family had arrived and taken his place at her bedside. They’d had a right to be there; he hadn’t.
So, to see her now, alive and well, brought a smile to his face. Even if she was beating the hell out of his uncle’s campaign sign. Her grandmother’s rival. Her grandmother who didn’t like Connor all that much, which was evident when she fixed him with an icy-blue stare. As he knew from previous encounters with Arianna, her welcome would be as cold as her grandmother’s.
The last time he’d tried to talk to Arianna had been outside the courtroom after her and her ex’s divorce hearing. She’d told him to drop dead and had walked away before he’d even had a chance to open his mouth. He’d seen no signs over the past five years that she’d changed her mind about him. To the contrary, she avoided him like he was one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
She glanced over her shoulder and met his gaze. Oh yeah, she definitely still wanted him dead. The animosity practically vibrated off her as her perfectly sculpted lips twisted and her beautiful blue eyes narrowed.
But instead of getting back in his car and driving off, as she no doubt wanted him to, he walked across Mrs. Ranger’s front lawn. He needed to see for himself that Arianna was all right. He might live, work, and play in Boston, but he knew what was going on in Harmony Harbor. Most of his family lived in town, and his oldest brother, Logan, was engaged to Arianna’s half sister, Jenna.
“Connor, dear, don’t get upset with Arianna for destroying the sign. I think she had a”—Mrs. Ranger leaned toward him and whispered—“mental break.”
Arianna’s eyes went wide. “Mrs. Ranger, what are you talking about? I didn’t have a mental…a meltdown. Glamma’s cane was stuck in the sign. I was just trying—”
“How many times do I have to tell you it’s a walking stick, not a cane, Arianna?” her grandmother said before turning on Mrs. Ranger. “If my granddaughter has a relapse, it’s on you, Irene.”
“Relapse? Relapse from what? Don’t listen to her, Mrs. Ranger. I’m perfectly fine.” Arianna glanced at Connor. “Sorry about the sign. I’ll pay for another one. Just send me the bill.”
“You will not. Look at my walking stick. It’ll never be the same. Besides, you’re penniless, and without me putting a roof over your head, you’d be homeless,” Helen said.
Mrs. Ranger gasped, appearing stricken at the news, while Arianna stood frozen, staring at her grandmother.
“Yes, you heard me right, Irene. My granddaughter lost everything that night, including the ability to do the job she loved. She’s crippled and barely able to get out of bed. I’m the only one she has to take care of her. The only one to put food on the table and keep a roof over our heads.”
A dull red flush spread up Arianna’s elegant neck. “That’s enough, Glamma. Let’s go,” she said, and began walking away.
Connor stared after her, shocked silent. Wondering why no one had told him how dire the situation had become.
Helen’s gaze followed her granddaughter, and then she gave a slow, sorrowful shake of her head. However, Connor, who up until a few weeks before had been one of the highest-paid attorneys in Boston (and for good reason), had a knack for reading people, for hearing the truth beneath a lie, for seeing it in a person’s eyes, and Helen’s expression said, that while the emotion was real and for the most part the words were true, she had an agenda.
“So think about that when you cast your vote for Daniel Gallagher next week, Irene. If I don’t become mayor, not only will the town go to pot, but my granddaughter and I will be out on the street by Christmas. Is that what you want? Don’t you think our family has suffered enough?”
“Oh, Helen. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell us how bad it was?”
Connor went after Arianna. The last thing she’d want is help from him, but given what he’d just heard… “Arianna, wait,” he called out as she opened the gate in front of the white Cape Cod house.
With her back to him, she bowed her head, holding up her left hand as though warning him away. “We’re fine, Connor. I’m fine.”
“It didn’t sound that way to me, Arianna,” he said as he jogged across the road.
“Well, we are. It doesn’t have anything to do with you anyway,” she said as she turned to look at him, shutting the gate between them.
She might not be his anymore, but ever since the night he’d almost lost her for good, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. She mattered to him. A lot. It didn’t make sense, and it sure as hell would tick Arianna off if she knew, but he couldn’t seem to help himself where she was concerned. “You’re wrong. It does. Your sister is marrying my brother, so that makes you family.”
She rolled her eyes, and the familiar action made him smile. Only his smile slowly faded when he noticed the smudged circles under her eyes. This close and with nothing or no one to distract him, he noted other changes too, disturbing changes. Changes that bore witness to what her grandmother said. Arianna was far from all right.
“Not you too? I’m so sick of people looking at me like I’ll break. There’s nothing wrong with me.”
He lifted his chin at her empty sleeve. “Why are you still wearing a sling? You should be trying to use your hand. If you don’t—”
She raised a sarcastic eyebrow, but he didn’t miss the way she cradled her arm protectively to her chest. “So, you’re a doctor now too?”
No, but several of his golfing buddies were, and he questioned them extensively about Arianna every chance he got, asking about the best course of treatment for a woman with third-degree burns to her hand and just above her wrist that were deep enough to damage the nerves, along with extensive burns to the rest of her arm that caused her excruciating pain. At least in the beginning she’d been in pain. He’d assumed it was under control now, manageable at least. Obviously, it wasn’t.
“Look, Arianna, I know—”
“Connor,” a woman called from across the street.
He glanced over his shoulder and winced. He’d forgotten about his girlfriend, Brooklyn Rogers, who was waiting for him in the car.
When he’d discovered his mother and the Widows Club, of which his grandmother Kitty was a member, had set their matchmaking sights on him, he’d decided to go on the offense and brought Brooklyn for Sunday brunch at the manor. Built by the family’s patriarch, William Gallagher, in the late eighteenth century, Greystone Manor resembled a medieval castle and sat on five thousand acres of land that was bordered by the ocean on one side and the forest on the other.
Brooklyn was everything his mother, Maura, wanted for Connor in a wife—stunning, rich, and well connected. His mother had been over the moon when he’d arrived at the manor with his girlfriend in tow. Except now he was afraid his offensive move might end up coming back to bite him. His mother wasn’t the only one who had read something into him bringing a woman to the manor. So had his brothers and his grandmother.
Brooklyn still had no idea she was the only woman he’d ever introduced to his family. Something he’d prefer to keep from her until he knew exactly where their relationship was headed. A month after he’d started dating her, he’d begun to think she might be the one to make him break his long-ago vow. He ignored the voice in his head that said he’d known exactly where things were headed with Brooklyn until Arianna had been hurt in the fire at Tie the Knot.
“Sorry, babe. Just give me a minute.”
“We’re meeting Lyndsey and Tiff for drinks at four, Connor,” she said, aiming a suspicious glance in Arianna’s direction before powering up the window.
Connor would like nothing better than to miss their drinks and dinner date with Lyndsey and Tiff. And not just because he didn’t want to leave until he knew exactly what was going on with Arianna. He wasn’t a fan of Brooklyn’s best friend and her partner, who spent their weekly dinner dates reminiscing about Brooklyn’s ex, whom they apparently loved. Connor, they barely tolerated. Besides that, they were foodies and insisted on ordering Connor and Brooklyn’s meals whenever they went out together. Last week Connor had discovered he’d eaten bull’s balls.
He turned back to Arianna. “Look, I get—”
“Can we not do this, please? I’m tired. I’m sorry about the sign. Like I said, I’ll replace it.”
“Forget the sign. Forget our past. I just want to help, Arianna.” He held up a hand when it looked like she might argue. “Your grandmother says you’re penniless. What’s going on with your insurance? You should have received your claim by now.”
She chewed on her bottom lip and cast an anxious glance behind him before admitting, “I don’t know. I haven’t received anything from them.”
He had an uneasy feeling there was more at play here. He just didn’t know if it was on her end or with the insurance company. “Who’s your provider? I’ll give them a call and see what’s the holdup. I can at least get you an advance against the settlement to tide you over.”
“Move aside, boy,” a throaty voice said from behind him seconds before he was jabbed in the back of his knee with a cane.
He swallowed a pained grunt, stepping aside to let Helen Fairchild by. She opened the gate and waved over Arianna, who’d moved toward the front porch. “Thanks to you, the tide is turning in my favor, darling. You have to get out there and press the flesh,” Helen said to her granddaughter before turning a smug smile on Connor. “Your uncle doesn’t stand a chance now that I’ve found my secret weapon. Irene and her bridge club have thrown their support behind me.”
“No. No way are you using me to get the sympathy vote, Glamma. What you said to Mrs. Ranger—”
“Was the truth. I need this job, and you know it.”
“No, I don’t. I had no idea things were that bad.” She glanced at Connor before asking her grandmother, “When did you and Serena file the insurance claim?”
“I…What day is it now?” Arianna’s grandmother asked as she rubbed her furrowed brow. “I don’t…Why are you asking me anyway?” Helen’s tone had gone from confused to defensive. “You should be talking to your sister. I have no time for this.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Fairchild,” Connor said. “I’ll take care of it. I deal with this sort of thing all the time. I’ll have it straightened out for you in no time.” He rarely dealt with insurance settlements, but he had no doubt he could handle this. Though it would definitely take some time, which, lucky for them, he had a lot of these days.
Helen studied him for a moment and then slowly nodded. “We’d be happy to accept your help, wouldn’t we, Arianna? I may have misjudged you, young man.” Helen smiled while tapping his leg with the end of her cane. More gently this time than the last.
“That’s kind of you, Connor, but we don’t need your help. I’m sure Serena took care of the claim,” Arianna said.
But he could tell by the uneasy look in her eyes that she wasn’t sure. She had reason to be wary. Lorenzo Romano, their sister Jenna’s ex-fiancé, had shot Serena before setting fire to Tie the Knot. From all accounts, like Arianna, Serena had been having difficulty dealing with the trauma. After what they’d been through that night, it would be more surprising if that weren’t the case. Unlike her sister though, Serena had left town to deal with her issues.
“Okay. Just give me the name of your insurance company then, and I’ll put some pressure on them,” he said.
“I don’t remember it offhand. I’ll get Serena to call—” The horn blasted from his Porsche, cutting off Arianna, who looked more than a little relieved at the interruption. “You’d better go, or you’ll miss your drinks date,” Arianna said with smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She was obviously worried, and like her grandmother, overwhelmed.
He took out his phone, texted Jenna for Serena’s cell phone number, and then texted Brooklyn to tell her he needed five more minutes, promising to make it up to her later.
He got an Oh yeah, you will from Brooklyn, and Serena’s cell phone number from Jenna, as well as a question as to why he wanted it. He planned to stop by the manor to talk to Jenna, who was Greystone’s wedding planner, before he left town. He’d answer her question then.
Helen once again tapped him on the shin. “Get off your device. It’s rude. Young people these days…”
“Sorry about that. I just need one more minute to take care of something,” he said as he added Serena’s contact information and then quickly texted her his question.
Arianna looked from his phone to his face. “I don’t believe you. You texted Serena, didn’t you?”
He smiled, looking down at his phone when it pinged. His smile turned into a grimace at Serena’s response. He raised his gaze to Arianna. “You mind if I grab a glass of water before I hit the road?”
As though she could tell from his expression that the news wasn’t good, she briefly closed her eyes before nodding. “Glamma, I’ll meet up with you on Ivy Road.”
“All right. Bring a bottle of hand sanitizer and some breath mints with you.” She gave Connor another tap on the shin before jauntily walking away, swinging her cane. “Don’t worry. I won’t knock down any more of your uncle’s signs,” she called over her shoulder. “No need to now that we’ve got the primary in the bag.”
“You might want to lose her cane. She doesn’t look like she needs it,” Connor said when he joined Arianna on the porch.
Arianna glanced at him as she opened the front door. “Serena didn’t file the claim, did she?”
“I’m sorry. I wish I had better news, but no, she didn’t. Your grandmother told her she’d taken care of it.” Arianna looked demoralized at the news, and he went to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze but thought better of it and lowered his hand.
As he followed her inside, he took in the open space. The living room was decorated in shades of cream and blue, with bookshelves on either side of doors that opened into a glass-enclosed, three-season room filled with plants and comfortable-looking furniture. He wasn’t surprised to find the home beautifully furnished and decorated. Helen Fairchild had great taste. She’d passed down both her elegant style and talent for design to her granddaughter.
He’d visited the house as a teenager, when Arianna had stayed with her grandmother, and knew there were two bedrooms to his right, one on either end of the short hall. To his left was the French country-style kitchen with stainless-steel appliances and cream-colored cabinets that matched the bookshelves.
Arianna walked through to the kitchen and went to open one of the cupboards with her injured hand. He was close enough to hear her sharp inhalation, see her eyes squeeze shut.
“Let me,” he said, gently cupping her shoulders to move her out of the way. He opened the cupboard. “Do you want a glass?”
“Please.”
He wouldn’t have heard her if she hadn’t been standing beside him, so close her shoulder and hip brushed against him. So close he could smell her scent of orange blossoms and jasmine. It was a classic, timeless fragrance that spoke more of the woman she used to be than the one she’d become.
She seemed broken, defeated, and fragile now. When she’d been married to Summers, she’d been seductive, sophisticated, and outspoken. A woman who liked the finer things in life, who traveled to Provence and Positano, who’d once thrown lavish dinner parties that were the talk of Boston and designed wedding gowns that cost a small fortune.
He’d admired the woman she’d been, stood in awe of her talent, sophistication, and beauty. But this woman got under his skin and burrowed her way into his heart. He wanted to vanquish the demons that haunted her and take away her pain. But already he could feel her regaining control, breaking contact, putting up her walls.
With her head bowed and the fingers of her left hand curved around the marble countertop, she moved a few inches away.
“Can I get you anything for the pain?”
She shook her head, her buttermilk-blond hair falling forward to hide her face. “No. I’m fine.”
“Don’t, okay? It’s me. The guy you dated for two years. The guy you told your secrets and dreams to.” The guy who loved you to distraction. The guy you said you’d love forever.
Connor blew out a noisy breath, wondering what had gotten into him. Being this close to Arianna and actually having the woman talk to him after years of avoiding and ignoring him was messing with his head. Not to mention the part about her being alive and well. Even if she wasn’t completely okay.
“Neither of us have been that guy or that girl for a very long time,” she said, taking the glass from him and turning to walk to the sink in the turquoise island with its butcher-block countertop.
“No, we haven’t. We’ve grown up. And evolved grown-ups let people help them. You don’t have to deal with this alone, Arianna. I want to help. Think of it as my way of making amends for having to represent your ex in your divorce.”
She snorted and turned on the tap. “Evolved grown-ups are also honest. You didn’t just represent Gary. You used the divorce to get back at me. You never forgave me for breaking up with you.”
“You don’t seriously believe that, do you?” he said, instead of asking her why she’d broken up with him. It was something he’d always wanted to know. Because she had gutted him that long-ago summer night, and it had taken him months to get over her, even if it hadn’t felt like he was over her at all that night in her hospital room.
“Oh, so you’re telling me our breakup had nothing whatsoever to do with you representing Gary in our divorce?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” he said, leaning past her to fill his glass with water, getting another whiff of her perfume as he did. He needed to focus on something other than how amazing she smelled or he might do something stupid like bury his face in her neck. Instead he concentrated on putting the glass on the counter and taking the other glass from her to fill.
“I’m kinda shocked you think I’d do something like that.” Maybe even a little hurt. “I’m a corporate attorney, Arianna. I don’t handle divorces for our clients unless I have no choice, which, back then, I didn’t. It was either represent Summers or forget about ever being made partner. His family is the firm’s biggest and longest-standing account. Gary’s godfather is one of the founding partners.”
“I didn’t know,” she said, refusing to meet his eyes when he placed the glass in her hand.
“You should have known I wasn’t that kind of man.”
She lifted a shoulder. “For seven years I lived with a man who was. I guess that colored my perception.”
For as long as he could remember, Connor had been ambitious and laser-focused. As the middle son, he’d always felt like he had something to prove. And he liked the lifestyle his career afforded him. He would have laughed if someone suggested he’d put his job on the line by refusing to take on a case. But that had been before the night in the hospital with Arianna.
Her ex had come to him ten days after Arianna had nearly died. He’d wanted Connor to represent him in his divorce from wife number two. All Connor could see was Arianna’s face on the day of her divorce hearing. He’d wanted to punch Summers in the face for putting him in that position. So he’d taken great pleasure in turning him down. But Summers was used to getting his way. His godfather begged and then tried to bribe Connor to take the case. Connor refused. He’d gambled and lost.
He pushed the thought aside, took a drink of water to wash away the bitter taste in his mouth, and then looked at Arianna. “Now that you know I had no choice but to represent Summers, can you forgive me?”
“I walked away without anything to show for those seven years. I lost clients because of him. I nearly lost Tie the Knot…” She gave her head a small shake. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Yeah, it does. I can’t apologize for doing my job back then, but I can help you now if you’d let me. You can start over, Arianna. The money from the insurance—”
“Start over? I can barely get dressed on my own, Connor. I can’t legibly write my name or get a glass out of a cupboard or go one day without pain.” She bowed her head and whispered, “Sometimes I wish they had let me die.”
He reacted without thinking, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Don’t. Don’t say that, Arianna. Don’t ever let me hear you say that again.” Unlike that night at her hospital bedside, he was far from calm. He knew her, and he knew her well. Tie the Knot had been her life, her passion, her baby. And now it was gone, and he heard the abject despair in her voice. He shook her a little to get her to look at him, desperate to get through to her. “You’ve been home from the hospital just over a month. You need time to heal. It’ll get better. I promise.”
She lifted ocean-blue eyes filled with desperation and tears. “It won’t get better, Connor. The scarring, the nerves in my…” She shook her head as if she could no longer go on.
He drew her carefully into his arms, surprised when, instead of pushing him away, she leaned heavily against him. It just about killed him. She’d always seemed so strong and self-sufficient. “It will. One step at a time. And the first step is getting your insurance claim settled.”
“I don’t even know where to start. I have nothing. No paperwork, no laptop or desktop. Everything was either in my apartment or in the shop.” She hadn’t lifted her head. Her lips moved against his chest, her warm breath heating the skin beneath his shirt.
The feel of her in his arms, her mouth against his skin, and the smell of her perfume brought back memories of the past, dreams he’d once had for their future. He stroked her hair, getting lost in those memories and dreams for a minute. Something, he wasn’t sure what, brought him back to the present. “Leave it with me. I’ll figure it out.”
He sensed they were no longer alone and glanced over his shoulder. No one was there. But as he returned his attention to Arianna, the cream wooden blinds on the window across from them clacked and flapped. He looked over his shoulder again, only this time he leaned back. The front door was open, ushering in a warm breeze that carried with it the smell of crushed autumn leaves. He’d just decided he hadn’t closed the door properly when he heard the roar of a V10 engine. He knew then who’d opened the door. Brooklyn had gotten tired of waiting.
Arianna lifted her head from his chest. “Is that your car?”
“Yeah, and I have a feeling she isn’t stopping”—he grimaced at the sound of squealing tires—“to pick me up.”
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I’ve kept you too long. If you hurry, maybe you can catch her,” Arianna said, backing away.
He was sorry too. Sorry that she’d stepped away from him. He missed the feel of her in his arms, knowing at least for those few minutes she was safe and he didn’t have to worry about her. He didn’t want to leave her on her own, but it was obvious she now felt more uncomfortable than comforted.
“Unless Brooklyn gets pulled over, there’s not much chance I’ll catch up to her.” Or make it up to her, for that matter. Which he felt bad about. But maybe, in the end, it was for the best. At least until he got Arianna out of his heart and his head for good. And that wasn’t going to happen until he knew she was well on the road to recovery.