Liv heard Keagan’s motorcycle roar to a halt in the alley all the way from her living room with the door shut.
Although it was out of character for him to be obnoxious with his bike, she assumed it was him. Typically, no other motorcyclists used the alley. He could be parking in Samantha’s vacant spot for some reason.
He gunned the engine again.
“Good heavens.” She put down her book and went outside to the courtyard, half expecting to hear Louis yelling. His patio backed up to the alley fence.
The motorcycle was turned off. Liv waited, curious. She heard the gate open and shut. A moment later Keagan appeared on the walkway.
He was in his all-black mode, wearing jacket, pants, boots, and sunglasses with even a stocking cap and gloves. It was a cool morning, no doubt cold while going seventy on the freeway.
He veered her way, removing his hat and gloves. There was no little bag in his hand.
“Thank you,” she said, referring to the cookies he had insisted on rushing down to the airport. Earlier that morning, he had happened to pass her the exact moment she realized she’d forgotten to give them to the girls. She had said to herself, apparently aloud and with much feeling, Oh, applesauce.
His overboard reaction had been to insist on delivering them.
Now she wondered if his engine revving and totally unnecessary trip were related. “You found them.”
He nodded and stood before her. “Okay if I park in Sam’s spot for a while?”
“Of course. I am sorry for making you drive all the way to the airport, park way over in the lot, and track down the girls, and then come all the way back home. My goodness.”
His chuckle was more a puff of expelled air. “Liv, it wasn’t a problem.”
“Oh?”
He stuffed his hat and gloves into his jacket pockets and kept his hands in them as well. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Fine.”
She pulled her cardigan more closely about herself, crossed her arms, and gazed at his sunglasses. “Sean Michael Keagan, I have never known you to speak an untruth. You are no more fine than the moon is made of ricotta.”
His mouth twitched. “Or provolone.”
“Or Muenster.”
“Or Jarlsberg.”
“What happened?”
He turned aside for a moment. He slid the glasses on top of his head and looked at her. “I told her goodbye.”
When Jasmyn and Samantha had left for the airport before dawn, no one was up and about, excluding herself, naturally. But she had expected at least Keagan to appear. “You missed her earlier.”
“I was at the gym. Issues came up about three a.m.”
She understood. During the winter and on extra-cold or wet fall nights, he and his co-owner offered the gym as a sleeping shelter to a handful of homeless men. They had been doing it for a few years now. Once in a while there were problems and Keagan was needed.
No wonder he had insisted on rushing down to the airport. He had wanted to tell Jasmyn goodbye.
And their parting must have jarred something inside of him. Well, wasn’t that curious?
She hated to pry, but— “So, you told Jasmyn goodbye.”
“Mm-hmm.” His eyes were focused behind her, in the direction of Jasmyn’s cottage. “Big mistake.”
She touched his arm. “Sean, it’s never a mistake to show you care.”
“No, it’s not. The other part is. When it’s given back to you.”
Liv’s spirit sank and jumped at the same time. Keagan and Jasmyn? Yesss. He was admitting it. But…
But Keagan’s heart had been broken. Liv had seen that the very first day he showed up. He was not a cold man, simply a cautious one.
“Why are you afraid?”
He looked at her again, his face softening. “It’s too trite and maudlin, Livvie. Let it rest. I am fine.”
She straightened her shoulders and held up her chin. “I’m fine too because she is coming back. I know this for a fact. Just don’t ask me how I know.”
“It really doesn’t matter. We’re here. She’s not. Life goes on. See you later.” With that, he walked off.
She stared at his retreating back, watched him cross the courtyard toward his cottage, and disappear around the large bird-of-paradise.
Oh, Lord, don’t let him shut down. Please don’t let him shut down.