Second Chance with the Billionaire
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“So now I’m a baby bird?”
Kirby’s disgruntled expression made Conor chuckle. “Bad analogy. But seriously...what do you think of the idea?”
“I’m on board. These walls have been closing in on me.”
“Good.” Conor paused, feeling vaguely guilty for what he was about to do. “Ellie told me a lot about you and her parents, but she’s been reticent about herself. What does she do for a living? I assume she’s on maternity leave?”
“Not exactly. She has degrees in political science and international affairs. Speaks several languages. A number of years ago she began working as a cultural attaché at one of the embassies in Buenos Aires. She’s brilliant, Conor. But when I had my accident, she resigned to take care of me. And then, of course, the baby came along...”
“I see.” Conor did see. Ellie was devoted to her twin. Generous and compassionate. But one more question loomed. He lowered his voice, not wanting Ellie to know he was snooping. “What about her husband? Are they divorced?”
“No.”
The negative sent Conor’s stomach into a free fall. “Oh.” Disappointment knotted his chest.
Kirby shook his head, his gaze troubled. “She didn’t tell you?”
Conor frowned. “Tell me what?”
“Ellie’s husband Kevin was climbing with me when I had my accident. He fell also. Died of a broken neck. Didn’t even know he was going to be a father.”
* * *
Ellie set the large kitchen table for four and pulled the high chair to one end. She unwrapped all the food with a raised eyebrow. Conor had spared no expense. But the Kavanaghs were extremely wealthy, so it was no surprise. Their ancestors had discovered silver in these mountains several generations ago and thus solidified the family fortunes.
The town of Silver Glen was a popular destination for celebrities and public figures who wanted to get away from it all. The charming shops and wonderful restaurants, combined with year-round recreational opportunities, appealed to a well-heeled crowd.
The advisory council had taken careful measures to limit overbuilding and to keep the Alpine flavor of the community intact. Their care paid off. The Silver Beeches Lodge and the multitude of bed-and-breakfasts in town rarely had openings unless a patron booked months in advance.
Ellie checked her watch. She had given Kirby and Conor plenty of time. Taking a moment to summon her grandfather, she then returned to the living room. “Lunch is ready,” she said, glancing from her brother to his best friend. The two men appeared to be enjoying themselves. Emory was curled against Conor’s chest playing with a teething ring.
The meal turned out to be an awkward affair. Ellie’s grandfather floated in and out, one minute coherent, the next saying bizarre things that made Ellie sad and discouraged. It was hard to see a loved one deteriorate.
At one point, Grandpa Porter sat straight up in his ladder-back chair and pointed an accusing finger at Conor. “I remember you,” he said. “You used to have a soft spot for my little granddaughter, Ellie.”
Though Ellie flushed with mortification, Conor took it all in stride. “Yes sir, I did. But that was a long time ago.”
Kirby intervened. “Do you want some cake, Grandpa? It’s homemade.”
The ruse distracted the old man, fortunately. Ellie couldn’t decide what was going on with Conor. He and Kirby laughed and joked together as if they had never been apart, but Conor scarcely looked at Ellie. Fortunately, Emory demanded much of her attention.
When everyone had finished eating, Conor stood. “If you all will excuse me, I have to get back to the ski lodge. This was great. Kirby, I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll make a plan.”
Again, Conor avoided eye contact with Ellie. “I’ll walk you out to the car,” she said, miffed that he was being standoffish.
“It’s not necessary.”
Was it only her, or did his smile seem forced? “I know that,” she said. “But I want to.”
Conor didn’t even pause on the front porch. He strode down the path as if he had a plane to catch and not much time to make his connection. “Bye, Ellie.” He tossed the words over his shoulder, barely slowing down.
“Wait,” she said, grabbing his shirtsleeve. “Tell me how Kirby sounded to you. Do you think he’s okay? This was the first time I’ve heard him laugh like that since the accident.”
Conor pulled away but came to a halt, turning to face her. “He’s going to be fine, Ellie. Losing the foot has knocked the wind out of him, but he hasn’t given up, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I was worried. Thank you for coming today,” she said. “And thank you for the lunch.”
Conor seemed uncomfortable with her gratitude. “No problem.”
Well, shoot. “Did I do something to offend you?” she asked bluntly. “You’re acting weird all of a sudden.”
The tiny flicker of a muscle in his cheek told her that he understood what she was saying. He stood there staring at her, his expression impassive. But his hands clenched in fists at his sides.
The sky was cloudless, the sun beaming down unforgivingly. A trickle of sweat rolled down her back. Conor’s posture was like stone. He was a completely different man from the one she’d spoken with at the saloon...or even at the ski lodge.
She saw his throat work.
“I owe you an apology,” he said. The words seemed ripped from his chest.
“I don’t understand.”
“Kirby told me about your husband. About Kevin. I’m so damned sorry, Ellie.”
His sympathy caught her completely off guard, though she should have guessed at some level that Kirby would spill the beans. “Thank you.” What else was there to say? She couldn’t tell him how she was feeling...how she had suffered. How she still suffered.
“To have dealt with that and also caring for Kirby...you’re a strong woman.” She could swear he was anguished on her behalf. But instead of feeling warmed by his empathy, it made her want to run.
She shrugged. “I don’t feel strong. Most days I feel like a juggler with too many oranges and too few hands. But I don’t see why this requires an apology.”
“I flirted with you. I saw you weren’t wearing a wedding ring and I assumed—”
“That I was divorced,” she said quickly.
He nodded, his eyes bleak. “Lord, Ellie, I never even considered the fact that you were a widow.”
“Does it matter?” She was shriveling inside, actively pained at the thought of discussing Kevin with Conor Kavanagh. Her guilt consumed her. What would Conor think if he ever found out the truth...the truth that not even Kirby knew?
“Yeah,” he said, the word harsh. “I’m not usually such an idiot. I hope you’ll accept my apology.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I am single, Conor, whether I want to be or not.”
He ignored her words as if she had never spoken. “I’ll do what I can for Kirby. And if I can help you in any way, all you need to do is ask. You’re a mother and a daughter and a sister and a granddaughter. That’s a lot for anyone to handle. I’d like to make things easier for you.”
“Kirby needs your help, not me.” She didn’t want to be Conor Kavanagh’s charity case. She was lonely and afraid and confused. The thought of resurrecting her friendship with Conor had kept her going lately. Now, even that was in jeopardy.
Conor stared at her, his gaze shuttered. “I’ll be in touch with Kirby. Goodbye, Ellie.”
Four
Conor spent a sleepless night, largely due to his dreams. Even knowing that Ellie was a grieving widow didn’t keep his subconscious from going after what it wanted in erotic, carnal vignettes. The little devil on his shoulder pointed out the opportunity to take advantage of a vulnerable woman.
He wouldn’t do that. Probably. Definitely.
When he heard Ellie had come home to Silver Glen, he had visions of reconnecting with the laughing, happy sixteen-year-old girl he had known. At some level, he resented the fact that she had an entire life he knew nothing about. He wanted her to be the girl in his fantasies. The childhood friend. The innocent first love.
Even to himself he had to admit the problem with that rationale. Though he had never married, he’d had two pretty serious relationships. Both of them had ended for different reasons, but he’d been emotionally invested each time. In between, he’d sown his share of wild oats.
He liked women. The way they smelled. The way they moved. The interesting ways their minds worked.
What he didn’t like was the idea of competing with a dead man.
Did that make him petty? Or simply pragmatic?
Beyond that conundrum was the knowledge that he and Ellie were not suited for each other. He was still the kind of man she had once rejected. He hadn’t changed. Not really. It would be better for both of them if he kept his distance.
He called Kirby early and made arrangements to pick him up at ten. “I’ll wait in the car,” he said. “And keep the A/C going. It’s hot as hell today.”
The stalled-out weather front was unrelenting. Humidity and a scorching summer sun alternately baked and broiled the town. But the real reasons he decided not to go into the house were twofold. He didn’t want to see Ellie, and he did want to watch Kirby walk to the car.
He sent a text when he pulled up in front of the house. Moments later, as if he had been waiting by the door, Kirby appeared on the porch. As Conor watched, the other man made his way down the walk.
To a casual observer, Kirby’s legs and gait would appear normal. But Conor looked beneath the surface. He saw the effort Kirby was making to walk naturally. Instead of looking toward the car, Kirby’s eyes were trained on the ground as if something might jump up at any moment to trip him and send him flying.
Conor’s heart contracted in sympathy, but he knew that kind of response would be the last thing Kirby wanted. Kirby didn’t need Conor’s platitudes. What he needed was to feel normal.
Leaning across the passenger seat, Conor unlocked the door and shoved it open. “Climb in, my friend. We’ve got a full day planned.”
Kirby eased his big body into the car and shut the door. His forehead was beaded with sweat and his lips pressed together in a white-rimmed line. “I’m looking forward to it,” he said.
Conor drummed his hands on the steering wheel. Then he sighed. “Do you have a cane, Kirby? Do you need it?”
Kirby stared straight ahead, his tumultuous emotions etched in his body language. “Did I look that bad tottering out here?” he asked, the question clipped with frustration.
“You looked fine. Honestly. But I know you, man. You once played an entire quarter of football with a busted wrist. Today, though, we’re not out to prove anything. So, tell me the truth.”
“Yes and yes.” Kirby’s breathing was shallow, his skin clammy and pale. He dropped his head against the back of the seat and muttered an expletive under his breath.
“Do you have any objections if I go get the damned thing?”
Kirby shrugged, his eyes closed. “Knock yourself out.”
Conor shouldn’t have been surprised to find Ellie hovering just inside the door. She was wearing old faded jeans and a white tank top that showed off her honey-colored tan and more-than-a-C-cup breasts. “I’m here for his cane,” he said. “Superman out there is trying to prove something, but I want to get him home in one piece.”
Ellie nodded, relief on her face. “He’s stubborn.”
“I’d be the same way. In fact, I was,” he said, thinking back to the long months after his skiing accident. “I was determined to show everybody that I was okay. That things were back to normal.”
“And were they?”
Though he saw nothing but simple curiosity on her face, the question stung. “No,” he said bluntly. “They weren’t.” He wanted to drag her into his arms and kiss her. But he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. Even though she smelled like vanilla and temptation.
He took the carved walnut cane and left without saying goodbye. He could barely look at Ellie now. All he could see was an image of her in another man’s arms, another man’s bed.
When he got back in the car and tossed the cane in the backseat, Kirby had recovered enough to give him a wry smile. “They tell me not to push it...that time is what I need. But I’m damned tired of feeling like a cripple.”
“Is that how you would refer to one of your patients?” Conor started the engine.
Kirby’s head shot around so fast it was amazing he didn’t get whiplash. “Of course not.”
“Then quit whining. Life sucks. Sometimes more than others. You’ve made it through the worst part. You might as well concentrate on having fun once in a while.”
Kirby fell silent for the remainder of the trip to the ski resort. Had Conor offended him?
Once they arrived at the lodge, Conor was stymied at first. In ordinary circumstances, he would have asked Kirby to hike the perimeter of the property with him. As high school kids, fitness had been everything to them. That was a long time ago, though, and Kirby faced a new reality.
Kirby was a doctor, a pediatric specialist according to Ellie. All Conor had to do was persuade him that losing a foot didn’t negate his training and his future.
Easier said than done. But Conor was determined to ease the grief in Ellie’s eyes. She had come to Conor for help, and he would give it, even if it meant keeping his physical needs in check. He was no longer an adolescent boy with a crush on a girl. Still, his need to make Ellie happy had apparently survived the years of separation.
After a quick tour of the lodge, Conor made a snap decision. If they couldn’t hike the property, they could at least see it from the air. “How about riding the chairlift with me?” he said. “We run it at least once a week to see if any problems crop up.”
Kirby nodded, his mood hard to read. “Sure.”
At the top of the lift, Conor elbowed his friend. “If that foot falls off, I’m not crawling all over this mountain to find it.”
Apparently he hit just the right note, because Kirby chuckled. “Is nothing sacred to you?”
“If you were expecting me to baby you like Ellie does, you’re in for a disappointment. You lost a foot. But you’re still Kirby Porter. So get over yourself.”
Truth be told, Conor was a bit anxious about how Kirby would hop up on the lift. But the other man managed the quick maneuver without incident. Once they were airborne, Conor relaxed.
Except for college, Conor had spent his entire life in Silver Glen. He loved the town, the valley and especially this mountain. He’d skied his first bunny slope the winter he was three years old. After that nothing had stopped him. Until the accident over a decade later.
When the doctors told him he could no longer compete, Conor had been wrapped in a black cloud of despair. He liked nothing better than pitting himself against an unforgiving mountain. Better yet, alongside other guys just like himself who had something to prove. Skiing was the way he released the fount of energy that kept him restless and active.
Ellie had visited him in the hospital and given him a choice. Either give up skiing, or give up her. They’d been on the verge of making their mutual attraction an official dating relationship.
In the end, though, Conor had lost almost everything. He’d had no choice but to adapt. No more black diamond descents. No more breakneck speeds. He’d had to find another outlet for his competitive nature.
Conor didn’t think he was the only one who relaxed as they rode. But it was all the way down and back up and down again before Kirby spoke.
“Thank you, Conor,” he said.
“For letting you ride the lift without a ticket?”
Kirby grinned, his face in profile. “For reminding me not to be a jackass.”
“I don’t mean to minimize what you’ve been through. I know it’s been hell.”
Kirby sobered. “I thought I understood the will to live. My parents are doctors. I’m a doctor. But it wasn’t until I spent two entire days thinking I was going to die that I truly grasped what it means to fight for life.” He paused. “I still have nightmares. It scares Ellie.”
Conor inhaled sharply, imagining softhearted Ellie bearing witness to her twin’s demons. “She’s a strong woman.”
“You have no idea. In those early days she never left my bedside. Sometimes she would throw up in a trash can because the morning sickness was so bad.”
“And the funeral? Her husband?”
“His parents planned the whole thing. Ellie left the hospital...attended the service...and immediately came back to my room. It worries me that she hasn’t had a chance to grieve. I’m afraid that one day she’ll wake up and everything will come crashing down on her. Postpartum depression alone is dangerous. Ellie lost her husband on top of that.”
“Does she talk about him?”
“Never. At first I thought she was angry because I invited Kevin to go on the climb with me. In fact, I even asked her if that was true.”
“And what did she say?”
“She never answered me. It’s like she’s shoved his memory into a box she won’t open.”
“So she can concentrate on you.”
“Exactly. We’re close, Ellie and I, but you know that already. I’ve always been able to understand what she’s thinking. Until now. Suddenly it’s as if she’s determined to forget the accident completely.”
“Maybe that’s the only way she can cope. Maybe it’s too painful.”
“I suppose so. But it’s not good for her. She’s given up her career. She’s lost her marriage. And Lord knows, babies require the ultimate self-sacrifice. I’ve tried to get her to take some time for herself. To go away for a few days or get a massage. Anything. But she won’t listen.”
“Maybe I can think of something.” Conor winced in astonishment as the impetuous words left his lips.
Kirby turned his head. “Like what?”
“Well...” His brain scrambled for answers. “In two weeks Mom and Liam are hosting a Christmas in August ball at the Silver Beeches Lodge. It’s a fun thing they started doing three years ago. Brings in tons of extra visitors, plus, the townspeople are invited. Everyone dresses up. They’ll have a 1940s band that plays Christmas songs. It’s actually pretty fun. You could both come with me.”
Kirby shook his head. “I want to do this for her—I’ll stay at the house and look after Emory and Grandpa. That way Ellie will be more inclined to have a good time.”
“Okay.” Damn. Conor didn’t want this to look like a date. Several times in his life he’d jockeyed with another guy to win a girl’s affections. Sometimes he won, sometimes he lost.
But he was smart enough to know that going head-to-head with a ghost would be hell on a man’s ego. He’d never met Kevin. And now he never would.
Kirby mentioned the guy as if he’d been a good husband. Conor was good at skiing. That was about it. Well, he was good in bed, too. But that wasn’t likely to come into play.
He would take the grieving widow to a party and show her a fun time. That was where it ended.
Still, there was one more thing he had promised Ellie. And having her brother as a captive audience at the moment meant he could fulfill that pledge. “Ellie tells me you have some good job offers.”
Kirby scowled. “All of which came in before I took a header off that mountainside.”
“Is that a problem? You didn’t get a concussion...right? You still remember all that stuff they taught you in med school, don’t you?”
“There’s more to being a doctor than what you read in books.”
“Sure there is. Compassion. Empathy. You’ve lived through a traumatic experience. I’d say both of those qualities make you a better medical professional.”
“It’s not as simple as that, Conor.”
The curt note in Kirby’s voice told Conor he had pushed enough for the moment. The chairlift approached the lodge for the third time. “You ready for some lunch?” Conor asked, preparing to lend a hand if Kirby stumbled while getting off.
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