Chapter 4

Nanny was, as usual, prompt for her party. More than prompt, actually, since she’d arrived with my sister Colleen and her husband Slade right after ten-thirty mass ended.

My ninety-three-year-old grandmother had been a fixture in all our lives ever since the eldest, Cathleen, was born. A professional pianist, Nanny had toured the globe performing with various symphonies until my father married my mother and they began having babies. Nanny had given up touring for several years to help raise us—in her word—properly. My mother and grandmother had never gotten along, each vying for the love and attention of the man of the house. Because of their barely concealed animosity, our home was many times a battle of wills between the two for household dominance.

Case in point: our names. My mother wanted to play up our Irish roots, especially when we’d all popped out with red hair, fair skin, and blue eyes, by calling us similar-sounding, traditional names. Cathleen was the eldest, next Colleen, then Eileen and me, four minutes apart. Nanny considered our names ridiculous and began calling us by our birth order ranks as a way to protest the names and, I’d always thought, annoy my mother. Cathy was referred to as Number One, Colleen was (horribly) Number Two, Eileen, Number Three, and because I was the youngest, I was christened Number Four.

In all fairness to Nanny, when our names were spoken collectively, it did sound obnoxious: Cathleen, Colleen, Eileen, Maureen. But referring to us by number was equally as unpleasant, especially for Colleen who suffered terribly as a child with the moniker. Nanny taught religious education classes for a time when we were kids, and we were all in her class at one time or another. Calling her granddaughter “Number Two” in front of a room full of childish seven- and eight-year-olds had damaged my sister in ways none of us could really relate to. To this day, her color still blanched whenever Nanny set her sights on her.

From the time she arrived at the inn, Nanny had been talking, nonstop.

“Now, Number Four, I’ve dropped enough hints these past few weeks about the flavor of me cake. I hope, lass, you’ve heard them.” She took a sip of the post-church tea I’d made her.

“Loud and clear, Nanny.”

“Ah. There’s a good girl, you are. Now, remember: no candles. At this age there’s a chance we could burn the inn down when I blow them all out.”

“She ain’t kidding,” Colleen mumbled beside me as she helped me plate the first course.

“I heard that, Number Two.”

Colleen’s hands went still, and she bit her bottom lip.

“I may be ninety-four today, but I’ve the hearing of a bat, I do, young lady.”

“Did you just call yourself an old bat?” Slade, Colleen’s husband, asked, with a cheeky grin. When Nanny shot him a squinty-eyed glare, his grin grew and he kissed her cheek.

“You’re quickly losin’ status as me favorite grandson-in-law.”

“I’m not worried since I’m your only grandson-in-law,” he told her, then bent and took a sip of her tea as way to divert her attention away from Colleen. The way he always protected my sister warmed my heart no small amount.

“Hey!” Nanny cried.

Into this, Lucas and Robert walked.

“Ah, here’s the law now,” Nanny declared. “First time you’ve ever shown up when I needed ya. Officer Alexander, I’ve been mugged.”

“It’s chief, not officer,” Lucas said, as he bent to kiss her cheek as well. “And what do you mean you’ve been mugged?”

“Slade took a sip of her tea,” I told him. “She calls it being mugged because”—I pointed to the cup now in Nanny’s hand and lifted my eyebrows—“mug. Get it?”

My insides went into convulsions when his thick lips pressed tightly together. I nearly melted to the floor in a heap of lust when he lost the battle on his control and burst out laughing. And when those tiny laugh lines creased from the corners of his eyes to his temples, I had to physically restrain myself from grabbing his face and planting a kiss across his mouth.

“There’s never a dull moment when you’re around, Fiona.” He bent and kissed her other cheek. “Happy twenty-first birthday. Again.”

Nanny doesn’t get flustered easily. Her lifelong habit of being the one in the room who always said something outrageous to get a reaction was well known by everyone in her realm. So when the tops of her cheeks turned ripe cherry red I wanted to high-five Lucas.

Nanny’s recovery was quick, though, when she spied Robert, hands slung in his pockets, standing behind his father.

“Well now, lad, look at you. You’ve grown a foot since last I saw ya, and you’re more handsome than ever. Come and give us a kiss, Bobby-Boy.” She lifted her arms to him.

With a shy smile, he did, allowing himself to be pulled into a hug.

“Ah, there’s a good lad. How’s your mother? Got married recently, I heard.”

I kept plating while Lucas came to stand next to me.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Where’s your father?” I asked softly, after peeking first at Nanny to make sure she didn’t overhear.

Lucas sighed audibly. “Couldn’t convince him to come, no matter how hard I tried.” He shook his head, and for the first time I noticed the shadows playing under his eyes. I’d thought him tired a few days ago, and here was physical proof of it. “Even the knowledge you’d be the one cooking and baking, and he still said no.”

He shook his head. “He’s getting worse, Mo. Harps on Robert all the time, and when I defend the kid, he starts on me. I can take it since I’ve been hearing the same crap all my life. It’s not fair to my son, though. I can’t thank you enough for giving him a place to go every day so they don’t have to be alone together. I’m not sure one night I wouldn’t come home to a crime scene if they were left to their own defenses every day.”

I wanted to tell him he was being dramatic, but one look at the defeated expression crossing his face and I knew he wasn’t.

“Anyway.” He shrugged. “At least your grandmother is being sweet to him. I don’t want him to think all older folks are mean and grumpy like his grandfather.”

“Don’t let her hear you call her old. You may not get out of here alive.”

The melancholy cast in his eyes eased, and those thick, perfect lips curled into a sinful grin that made my heart rate quicken and my hands tremble.

“I’m not worried,” he said, a cocky smirk on his face. “I’m the one in the room with a gun.”

I snorted and then immediately felt heat run up my cheeks from my neck.

In a feeble attempt to hide my embarrassment, I grabbed a few plates of salad and carried them out to my dayroom where we were due to celebrate.

I was surprised when Lucas tagged after me, holding two plates in his own hands.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Helping. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Lucas, you’re a guest. You don’t need to help. Go back and visit, I’ve got this.”

He laid the plates at two table settings, then fisted his hands on his hips as he regarded me. Brows grooved, chin dropped a few notches, and his head cocked at a bit of an angle, his expression seemed…vexed.

“What?” I asked.

“Guest?”

I nodded.

His eyes narrowed.

“You’re here to help celebrate Nanny’s birthday so, duh”—I lifted my hands from my sides—“that makes you a guest.”

He took a step closer, the intensity in his gaze, alien to me.

“What’s the matter? You’re looking at me like I have three heads.”

Another step and he was right in front of me. I had to lift my chin to keep his face in focus.

“That’s really how you see me? As a simple guest?” He wrapped one of his hands around my upper arm and gently squeezed, all the while his gaze lasered on mine, the expression drifting across his eyes questioning.

“Of-of course you’re not simply a guest.” I amazed myself I was able to get that much out. The heat from his hand was as hot as a branding iron. It was a wonder my skin wasn’t smoking. “You’re a-a friend, too. Good golly, you’re practically family.”

“A friend?”

I nodded. “A good one.”

I didn’t have a clue what was behind his head tilt, but it was no wonder Lucas was so good at his job. I can imagine all kinds of criminals vomited up confessions when he trained his heated, pointed, and spill-your-guts glare at them.

“That’s what I am, Maureen? A good…friend?”

I swallowed, the sound cutting through the tension between us.

Why did he make it sound like an accusation and not a fact? He was a friend.

“Aren’t you?” I asked, my voice now a whisper.

We stood so close I could discern the palette of individual greens in his eyes. So close it would take nothing to lift up on my toes and press my mouth to his like I’d dreamt of doing for most of my life.

“Is that what you want me to be?” he asked.

In truth, no, it wasn’t. Not even close.

I could never say those words out loud, though, no matter how much I ached to.

But dear God, I wanted to. So much.

Fear was the reason I didn’t now, and never had, told him what I really wanted of him, how I felt about him. Lucas was too important to me, too much a fixture in my life. Confessing I loved him, and not in a good friend kind of way, was something I feared would change our relationship forever, and possibly not for the better.

I swallowed again to buy precious time to answer.

Cathy’s voice stopped me from doing so when she entered the room.

“Hey,” she said from the doorway, peering at the both of us. “What’s going on?”

I would have jerked out of his grip, but Lucas held me in place for a beat, as if knowing my intent.

“I’m helping Mo set up,” Lucas told her with his trademark calm when he finally let go of my arm. I put as much distance as I could between us. He turned to her, a smile on his face. “Hey. Just get here?”

She nodded.

“Where’s Mac?”

Her head ping-ponged from him, to me, then back to him again, her left eyebrow lifting high on her forehead. “In the kitchen, flirting with Nanny. Why?”

“Good. I need to talk to him about his bachelor party. I’ve got a couple ideas I want to run by him.”

“Oh, good Lord.” Cathy shook her head. “Please tell me it doesn’t involve strippers or anything illegal.”

He kissed her cheek and grinned. “I’m the chief of police, Counselor. I’d never condone illegal activity of any kind.”

“I didn’t hear you deny anything about strippers,” she said to his retreating back.

His deep laugh echoed in the breezeway.

Slowly, she zeroed her attention in on me, folded her arms across her chest, and pulled her face into what Colleen calls Cathy’s killer lawyer stare.

Just like Lucas, Cathy is exceptionally good at her job. But in my sister’s case, I was immune to her penetrating, tell-me-all-your-secrets expression. I’d had a lifetime living as her baby sister, and I’d apprenticed at her knee when she’d dealt with our grandmother by using diversionary tactics.

“So.” She ambled toward me. “Lucas.”

I blanked my face. “So Lucas, what?”

She took a beat, then said, “Lucas and…you?”

I kept my eyes steady on hers, knowing if I glanced away she’d take it as an affirmation of her unsaid suspicions. Or worse, weakness. Like I said, I’d watched her my entire life and knew exactly how effective she could be when she wanted information someone was unwilling to give. She was a master of the silent wait-out, an interrogation technique she used frequently when she was in court and questioning a witness. Nine times out of ten, her silence would get to the person and they’d blurt things they’d sworn to keep hidden.

But we weren’t in the courtroom today, on Cathy’s turf. We were in my inn, on mine. And if I knew how to do anything, it was keep my own counsel.

After several moments of noiseless staring, Cathy grinned at me. “You’re like a locked vault with a missing key. Not opening for anyone.”

Since it wasn’t a question, I didn’t feel the need to answer her.

Nanny’s voice rang out from the kitchen.

“That doesn’t sound good,” I said.

“She’s just sparring with my man as usual,” Cathy countered. “Come on. Baby is hungry.” She rubbed a hand over her tiny belly bump. “And so am I.”

Back in my kitchen we found Cathy’s fiancé, Mac, holding Nanny’s hand, a devilish grin on his face.

“Number One,” she said as soon as she spied us, “tell this young man o’ yours it’s rude to tease an old lady, especially on her birthday.”

“You’re the youngest person in this room,” Mac said in reply. He lifted her gnarled hand and kissed the back of it. “The youngest and the most beautiful, to be sure,” he added, mimicking her brogue to perfection.

Nanny’s periwinkle-blue eyes softened. She clicked her tongue, then batted the hand he held with her free one. “Don’t be thinking ya can charm me now, Mac Frayne. Better than you have tried and failed. It’s ninety-four I am today and still as sharp as I was in me twenties.”

“As sharp as a stiletto,” Lucas whispered close to my ear. While I’d begun plating more salad, he’d come to stand behind me. “And equally as deadly.”

As I bit back a giggle, he reached around me and took the two plates I’d prepared, his hand brushing against mine. The snigger died in my throat, and I had to tell myself to breathe.

“Robert, help Maureen. Take these inside.”

I was all set to tell him not to because he was a guest today and not a worker, when I caught the challenging look Lucas tossed me. I bit back my knee-jerk response.

“Thanks,” I said to the boy.

“Why won’t ya tell me?” Nanny asked Mac. “ ’Tisn’t a state secret, after all, is it?”

“Cathy and I agreed we want to go old school with this and not find out the sex of the baby. I’m not keeping any secrets; we simply don’t know and”—he pointed at her—“we’re not going to find out until the baby’s born, so there’s no use asking.”

“Colleen and Slade know they’re having a girl,” Nanny stated, her lips pulled into a pout a teenager would have been jealous of. “Makes it so much easier to buy a baby present, knowing the sex.”

“I wanted to know so we could paint the nursery, Nanny,” Colleen said from her chair. Her feet were elevated on the one opposite her and, for once, she’d worn flats.

Slade rubbed her shoulders. “You know how obsessive Colleen is about things,” he told my grandmother.

“I don’t think it’s obsessive to want everything ready when the time comes,” Colleen countered. “It makes sense from a time-management perspective. And from a health one, too. I don’t want paint fumes in the house with a brand-new baby.”

“We all know time management is your middle name, babe.” Slade kissed the top of her head.

“Well, whatever the reason, knowing the sex, I can shop effectively,” Nanny said. She nodded at Cathy. “I don’t want to give me great-grandchild a generic-colored gift.” Her beautiful blue eyes narrowed, and I could almost see the gears grinding in her head. “You know, I could die before your babe arrives, Cathleen Anne. It’s not young I am any more. Could go in a blink, just like such.” She snapped two of her fingers together.

“You’re gonna outlive us all,” Cathy said, while Lucas once again whispered from next to me, “Promises, promises.”

This time my giggle blew forth. I shifted to find him staring at me, his eyes crinkled in the corners, his lips twitching.

God, he was gorgeous.

“Stop,” I mouthed.

His grin grew.

“Come on, everyone. Let’s get this party started,” I said to the room.

“Fiona, I’d be delighted to escort you to your party.” Lucas extended his arm to her.

“Delighted, are ya?” she asked, slipping her hand into the crook in his elbow. “Not worried I’m gonna slice ya to bits, seeing as how I’m sharp as a, what did ya call it, now? A stiletto?”

Lucas had the grace to look sheepish, despite the cheeky grin on his face.

“Deadly instruments, they are,” Nanny told him, “so you’d better mind yourself.”

An hour later, after a lunch of salad, cold salmon (Nanny’s favorite), asparagus, and more laughter than my dayroom had seen in a while, it was time for presents and cake.

I cocked my head at Robert, and he followed me into my kitchen.

“Want to help me bring the cake out?” I asked. “You did, after all, help decorate it.”

“Sure.”

He went to the sink and washed his hands without being prompted.

“Your hair looks great,” I said as I joined him. “How do you feel with it shorter?”

“Lighter, like I’ve lost weight.”

I laughed and bumped him with my hip while I dried my hands on a dishtowel. The local barber was known for his love of military crew cuts, and I’d been worried Robert would wind up looking as if he was off to boot camp. But he still had some length on the top and sides, even though a large volume of it had been sheared.

“Well, now I won’t be pestering you to pull it back when we do food prep. Plus, I have to imagine it dries quicker when you get out of the shower.”

“In, like, no time flat,” he answered.

We lifted the three-tiered cake he’d helped decorate from my walk-in fridge and placed it on a serving tray.

I lit the two numerical candles, a nine and a four, I’d bought knowing Nanny’s words were true: ninety-four candles all lit at the same time were a fire waiting to happen. I placed a single birthday candle next.

“For luck,” I told Robert.

We walked the cake into the dayroom.

“Okay, everyone. Time to sing.”

While we serenaded her, Nanny beamed from her seat. She loved being the center of attention and always had.

“Make a wish, Nanny,” Cathy said when we were done. “And don’t waste it on wanting to know my baby’s gender.”

When the laughter died down, Nanny’s gaze ran from Cathleen, to Colleen, and then settled on me. With a twitch of her lips and a twinkle in those wise eyes, she winked at me and then blew the candles out.

“There now, I think that’s grand,” she said, smiling at us all.

After the cake was cut and served, Nanny took a bite of the rich, dark chocolate sponge I’d made, filled with chocolate buttercream and a thimbleful of Bailey’s.

“Magnificent as always, darlin’ girl,” Nanny said.

I smiled while I went around the table refilling teacups.

“Why three tiers, lass?” Nanny asked as she lifted her cup to me. “Looks like a wedding cake, and I’ve no one on me man-dar right now I’m looking to get hitched to.”

From where I stood, I spotted Colleen’s face blanch and her eyes go wide. Her hand flew to her belly, and she started blowing out breaths through lips she’d pursed together.

While I filled Nanny’s cup, I kept my attention on my older sister. Slade began rubbing her shoulders and caught me staring. A subtle headshake told me everything was okay. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure it was but kept my worry to myself.

“I figured you could take the bottom tier back to the Arms and share it with your friends after dinner.”

“Ah, now, you’re a thoughtful lass, you are, Maureen. They’ll love it. But then, they love everything you bake. Spoiled, they are, with your generosity.”

The room slammed still. To hear our grandmother call us by our Christian names was tantamount to finding a leprechaun, and yet she’d referred to each of us that way over the past hour.

I was all set to ask her if she was feeling okay when Colleen moaned, then cursed. The quiet room exploded with a deafening silence again as everyone’s attention settled on her. My heart stuttered a bit as worry shot through me. Colleen had another few weeks to go in her pregnancy and shouldn’t be having contractions.

“Sorry, Nanny,” she said, the pallor in her cheeks highlighted with the instant raspberry color of her blush. “These dam—er, darn Braxton Hicks contractions are driving me crazy today.”

“False labor pains?” Cathy asked. It didn’t escape my notice she placed a hand over her own belly. “I read about those in the prenatal book Olivia gave me.”

“Yeah. They started fast and furious a few days ago,” Colleen said.

“The doctor says not to worry about them,” Slade told us as he continued to massage his wife’s shoulders. “It’s just her body getting itself ready for our special delivery.”

“Which can’t come soon enough,” Colleen murmured. “Feels like snail mail, and I want overnight express.”

Her cracking a joke went a long way in calming my anxiety. Since Colleen was the first of us to have a baby, with Cathy right on her heels, I’d done a huge internet search about pregnancy and all the complications that can go along with it, including at delivery time. I didn’t sleep for three nights after reading over three hundred thousand women still die in childbirth every year, worldwide. The implications of the statistic, especially when my sister was having her first baby at what was called the advanced maternal age of thirty-seven, had rendered me unable to sleep. I wound up baking eight dozen cookies, six loaves of bread, and three dozen muffins during those midnight hours.

My guests had been delighted with the wealth of sugary carbs my insomnia rendered.

Nanny reached over and grabbed Colleen’s hand. “Ah, darlin’, I wish I could take the pain for ya. I know how it feels. Your father was a real in pain in me uterus and va-jay-jay when me time neared. I couldn’t hardly sit without him banging his head against me girly bits to get out, and me thighs never touched from the sixth month on. Very impatient he was, even before his craggy face made an appearance into the world.”

The heavy silence in the room was broken when Mac let out a belly laugh that had the chandelier chains trembling. Slade came next, a choked guffaw bursting through his lips, followed by Lucas who outright barked with laughter, his eyes almost closing with the effort. Cathy stared over at her fiancé and shook her head, a smirk pulling at her lips, while Colleen alternated between grinning and grimacing when the muscle cramps hit.

I glanced over at Robert who stared at my grandmother as if she were an alien life form who’d just landed from a distant planet. Jaw slack with his mouth dropped open; eyes wide and filled with astonishment. His cheeks were fever-red, the tips of his ears crimson. The poor kid was probably horrified at hearing an elderly woman talk about her private body parts in such an offhand, easy fashion. I couldn’t blame him. While we were all used to Nanny’s outlandishness, Robert wasn’t.

Nanny’s gaze touched each of us as she ran it around the table. An almost invisible twitching of her lips was all the evidence I needed she’d said what she had for the effect it would cause to lighten the mood and my sister’s predicament.

I simply adored this woman.

“Well, now…” She folded her hands in her lap. Moral indignation laced her brogue when she said, “You’re all laughing like hyenas, when the poor lass here is suffering. Ya should be ashamed a’ yorselves, you should. ’Tisn’t an easy thing to bring a new life into the world.”

She reached over and squeezed Colleen’s hand again. “These’ll pass soon, lass. No worries. And you’ll have the gift of a beautiful baby girl when it does.”

Tears glinted in my sister’s eyes. “Thanks, Nanny.”

When her eyes narrowed Cathy’s way, I felt a come-to-Jesus lecture about to be unleashed. To avoid it, I brought the remainder of the cake back to the kitchen to remove the bottom tier and box it up for Nanny to take back to the nursing home.

As I walked from the room, she said, “At least I know one great-grandchild is a girl. Little solace it does me, though.”

“Your grandmother is the only person I know who can compliment and censure in the same breath,” Lucas said as he followed me into the kitchen.

“ ’Tis a gift, to be sure,” I said, channeling the woman in question.

“You do that well.”

I lifted a shoulder. “Lifetime of practice.”

He carried a few stacked plates in one hand and my teakettle in the other. “This is empty,” he told me, lifting the kettle.

“Put it on the stove and give me those.” I stretched out my arms for the dishes. Lucas shifted away from me to prevent me from taking them.

“I’ve got it. You want them in the dishwasher?”

“I need to rinse them first. Put them down on the counter, and I’ll do it after everyone leaves.”

He ignored me and proceeded to rinse, then stack, the dishes into the dishwasher.

“Really, Lucas. You don’t need to do that.”

With a side-glance first, he said, “What phrase does Father Duncan love to quote? Many hands make light work?”

I hadn’t crossed a church door since Colleen had gotten married and hadn’t for two years prior to that, so I kept my mouth shut and let him work.

Robert brought more things in from the table, Mac helping while I went back to boxing Nanny’s cake.

“I can’t believe you left Cathy to deal with Nanny’s wrath,” I told my soon-to-be brother-in-law.

“Your sister can hold her own against Fiona any day of the week.” He put the plates down on the counter and slapped Lucas on the back. “Saturday works,” he said. “Slade’s free, too.”

“Unless Colleen’s labor changes to real from false,” the man said, as he appeared, he too carrying dishes and flatware. “Otherwise, I’m in.”

Lucas continued rinsing and loading.

I have to admit, having so much testosterone in the form of three gorgeous men and one gangly teenager in my usually female-laced kitchen was a little unusual and whole lot of exciting. Especially since one of those men starred in the lion’s share of my dreams every night.

And the fact they were all doing kitchen chores was even more amazing.

My sisters had each hit the partner-for-life jackpot with the men who’d claimed their hearts. Slade and Mac resembled one another enough they could have been cousins with their lean, runner’s bodies and handsome faces. While Slade was fair-haired, Mac’s thick black mane was threaded with gray. Ex-corporate executive and now full-time law professor, Slade oozed alpha from every pore, while Mac was the quiet writer and beta all the way. Both were, though, whole-heartedly in love with my sisters and had proven their devotion in so many ways. I could love them simply for the fact they loved my sisters, but it was more. They had each changed their lives to be with the women they loved. Slade had transferred his from the chaos of New York, as had Mac, both claiming they could work anywhere as long as they had the women they adored by their sides.

Cathy and Colleen were lucky women, indeed.

How would it feel for a man to change his entire life because he loved me and didn’t want to lose me and what we had together? It was an unknown concept for me. The one man I’d ever considered a future with had grown jealous of the bond between my twin and me and had given me an ultimatum: choose. He hadn’t even put up a fight when I’d picked Eileen.

In all honesty, I wouldn’t have chosen him even if he had fought for me. No man who professes to love you should ever make you choose him over everything and everyone else.

“What were the three of you talking about?” I asked Lucas once the others left the kitchen.

Before answering me, he closed the dishwasher and wiped his hands on a dishtowel.

He leaned back across the sink ledge and crossed his arms over his chest. The material on his dress shirt pulled against the bulk of his biceps, and my mouth went dry as unprocessed baking flour.

“Mac’s bachelor party. Cathy said she’s busy next weekend finalizing some wedding stuff with Colleen, so they’re both free. We’re gonna do something Saturday night.”

“What? Heaven’s not exactly the place where three guys can run amuck as a last hurrah to bachelorhood. Not that you’d ever run amuck, but still.”

His right eyebrow rose on his forehead. “Run amuck?”

I shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

When he dropped his chin to his chest, I got the distinct impression he was laughing at me and didn’t want me to see. When he shook his head, I was certain of it.

“I should pay you to help Robert with his SAT prep. Amuck. Good word.”

“And accurate. So, what are your plans? Getting out of town for the night? Driving into Concord or Manchester? Hitting a few bars and drinking your weight in beer?”

He angled his head to one side as he regarded me through half-closed eyes. His entire stance as he leaned against the sink, arms folded, ankles crossed and pushed out in front of him, radiated a calm, cool, and disinterested façade. I knew he was anything but. Lucas Alexander was never so focused, so intense, or so stealthy as when he appeared exactly the opposite.

His ability to remain calm and unreadable was another facet of his personality I loved.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked me. “What are you worried about?”

“I’m not worried.”

“You say one thing, but your body language says another.”

I rolled my eyes. “My body language says nothing. There’s no reason for me to be worried about anything since Slade and Mac are going to be with you, Lucas. Whatever you wind up doing, I know they’ll be safe. I’m asking because, like my sisters are fond of saying, I inherited Nanny’s nosy gene.”

His brows pulled together between his eyes and that head tilt shifted.

“What do you mean you’re not worried because they’ll be with me? And what did that crack about me never running amuck mean? Jesus.” He unfurled his arms and swiped his hands through his hair at the temples. “I’ve said amuck more times than I’ve ever said it in my life.”

“That’s a dumb question, since you’re the chief of police.” I held my hands up at my sides. “You’re the most responsible and trustworthy human being I know. You don’t do anything that crosses a line either morally, ethically, or legally. I’ve seen you drunk once in your life after Danny’s funeral, and you deserved to be since you’d just lost your best friend. You’re dependable, Lucas. Completely.”

It was a wonder he didn’t get a headache from the way the skin over his forehead puckered inward.

“Dependable and trustworthy? You make me sound like a cub scout, or an unemotional robot with a stick up his ass. Dull and boring. Like I don’t know how to have a good time and never do.”

“I’m sure you do, but I’m also sure since you became chief, you’re more aware than ever of the small minds and big mouths living in this town. You can’t be seen doing anything”—I shook my head again—“questionable or unseemly, like getting drunk in public at a bachelor party. You need to be on the safe side of gossip at all times. And you are. It’s what makes you such a good leader.”

“Unseemly? Lord, Maureen. Now you’re making me sound like a modern version of Josiah Heaven. You gonna accuse me of having a God complex next?”

How the heck had this conversation veered into him thinking I was comparing him to our town founder?

“What?” I fisted my hands on my hips, well and truly confused and getting irritated by the second. “Weren’t you the one who told my sister in that very breezeway”—I pointed behind me—“not more than two hours ago you weren’t going to condone anything illegal because, quote, you’re the chief of police, unquote? I don’t think I imagined it, Lucas.”

It was as if he hadn’t heard me.

“I’m not old and tired and worn out yet, you know.” He started pacing back and forth, his hands slung in his trouser pockets.

“I never said you were. I—”

“I’ve got responsibilities to this town and its citizens, Maureen. I’m on call twenty-four hours a day for the city. Never a day to myself, never a night to call my own. Christ. I had to promise Pete Bergeron three weekends in a row off in order to be free Saturday night.”

“Lucas, what—”

“I haven’t had a vacation in six years. In addition, I take care of a man who wants nothing more than to die and finds it amusing to take pot shots at my son.”

For the first time in my memory, Lucas’s voice rose. He was always the proverbial calm during a crisis, the one everyone gravitated to for guidance, the man people regarded as a natural leader.

It dawned on me he wasn’t simply tired, but exhausted. And not only physically. The weight of all the responsibilities he carried on those strong, broad shoulders was taking its toll, and he had no one in his life to help shoulder them.

Placing myself straight in front of him, I barred his pacing. I reached out, wrapped a hand around his forearm, and pressed, forcing him to pay attention to me.

He blinked hard a few times, as if coming awake after a deep sleep. The confusion in his eyes worried me.

“Lucas. Stop.”

He focused in on me, then to where I held his arm. When he lifted his gaze back to me, his forehead was furrowed. “Maureen?”

I squeezed his arm again. “Are you okay?”

He tilted his head to one side while he continued to stare at me for a few beats.

“I’m worried about you,” I told him.

“Worried?”

“Yes. You’re being”—I shrugged then shook my head—“weird. And you’re scaring me.”

He blinked a few times. “You’re worried about me?”

“Yes, dammit.” I stamped my foot, frustrated and getting mad, now. “I care about you, and I’m worried because you’re acting so out of character. What about that is so hard to comprehend?”

I removed my hand from his arm, only to have him grab it back with his own.

“Let go of m—” I stopped dead. One look at the expression on his face and any and all words were forgotten. The confusion reeling in his eyes shifted, cleared, then flew completely to be replaced by a piercing, all consuming…hunger.

As surprised as I’d been when his voice rose and as frustrated with his repeating everything back to me, the intensity swimming in his eyes was staggering, especially since it was focused entirely on me.

Lucas licked his lips, then repeated my name in a voice as far from a shout as possible. Quiet; controlled; seductive. This time there was no mistaking his tone for confusion.

With his free hand, he covered the one he held and pulled me in, until our torsos touched, his intent clear.

Crystal clear.

He was going to kiss me.

Kiss me.

In my kitchen with a room full of people we both loved a few feet away. Mesmerized is the only word I can find to describe why I didn’t try to put a halt to his intention. Well, that, and the fact I’d wanted him to kiss me forever. The idea my fantasy was about to become a reality rendered me unable to run away.

I lifted my chin, and I stretched up to meet him halfway, instead.

Our bodies touched from chest to knees. The warmth of his breath caressed me as his lips hovered over mine. His lids dropped partway, but he held my gaze captive as if he were openly gaping at me. In truth, I didn’t want to look away, couldn’t. As our lips were a whisper from touching and I’d finally know what it felt like to be kissed by this man, his pager went off.

Lucas’s head jerked back, his eyes blinking in a rapid tattoo as he clamped his lips together and shook his head with a jagged shudder. For my part, my heart slammed against my rib cage so hard I swear my blouse moved with the motion. The pager’s blare was shrill and piercing, the noise exploding in the room. Lucas pulled away from me, shot a hand to his hip to silence it, then backed away and reached with his other hand for his cell phone. All the while he kept his eyes trained on me.

His breathing was loud and coarse as he snuck a peek at the pager’s screen, then tapped on his cell phone. As he was speaking, Robert came back into the room carrying a few teacups. He glanced at his father, then at me, a question crossing his face.

My lungs were working overtime. I tried to slow my breathing by taking a deep breath in, holding it for a few beats, then letting it out.

It didn’t work. Robert’s concerned perusal verified it.

“Your dad got paged,” I told him, silently cursing the strain in my voice. “Here, let me have those.”

He ignored my command as his father had, holding them fast. “Your grandmother told me to wash these by hand because they can’t go in the dishwasher. Something about fine china and etch marks.” He lifted a shoulder and placed the items into the sink.

“I’ve got to go,” Lucas said in a voice as tense as mine had been. “Pete and one of my deputies are at a domestic disturbance, and they need backup.” He turned to his son, his brows drawing over his eyes. “I need to drop you home, first.”

“Robert can stay here with us.”

“I don’t know how long this is gonna take, Maureen. It could be fast or it could be a while.”

“Then I’ll bring him home if you’re going to be stuck. He can help me get ready for tomorrow once everyone leaves. No worries.”

His shoulders relaxed as relief darted across his face. “Thanks. I’ll call you when I know what’s what, time wise.”

He went to Robert. “Sorry, son.”

Robert gave him a one-armed shrug. “ ’Sokay.”

“Mind Maureen.”

The boy nodded.

Lucas came to me and said, “Say my goodbyes to your grandmother.”

“Stay safe,” I told him after assuring him I would.

He stared hard at me for a moment before he squeezed my upper arm, flicked a look at his son, then left.

“Come on,” I told Robert a moment later when I was sure my voice wouldn’t betray my anxiety. “Let’s grab some more desserts from the fridge. Nanny’s probably ready for her second round of sweets by now.”

“How many rounds does she do?” Robert asked as he followed me.

“As many as I provide,” I said with a laugh.

While he helped me plate the chocolate cookies I’d made during my most recent bout of insomnia, I did something to ease my mind: I sent a silent plea up to my twin to watch over Lucas and help keep him safe.

I may not attend church or practice the religion I grew up with any longer, but I still considered my sister one of Heaven’s—the celestial one—angels, challenged with watching over us all. There had been many days and circumstances where I’d silently pleaded for her watchful eye on a family concern. Since Lucas was as close as family, those requests included him, as well.