You can’t program love…or can you?

Kayleigh Renshaw has come up with the idea for a brilliant “compatibility app,” a new kind of matchmaking software. All she needs is a programmer to help her bring the idea to market…and she knows exactly who she wants. But Niall Walsh—a code whiz and her former best friend—has been avoiding her since he returned from Afghanistan. In spite of their history, and some sparks that go beyond friendship, he’s proving reluctant…. Is it her, or is something darker holding him back?

“There’s so much I don’t know.”

Kayleigh’s eyes searched Niall’s, and suddenly she wasn’t talking about the business, but about them, their kiss.

“Kayleigh,” he murmured, and he seemed to be holding himself back, his arms rigid at his sides.

“Nothing makes sense anymore.”

“Life isn’t always logical.” Niall looked away, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen them. “And neither is love.”

A long moment of silence stretched between them. It hung dangerously in the air, like the calm before a summer storm. This was exactly what she’d been obsessing over since their kiss. If only Niall was a stranger and not her closest friend, someone she couldn’t afford to lose if things didn’t work out….

Dear Reader,

Romance is a tricky thing to find. It can lurk in the most unexpected places, like right beneath your nose! Such was the case for me and my husband of twenty years, Greg. We were friends for a long time, and I often wished I could meet someone like him to have as a boyfriend. Then one day it dawned on me. I’d already met that person. Greg! It’s funny how once you’ve put someone in a category like “friend” it’s hard to take them out of it. There’s fear that maybe they won’t fit as well in the new category “partner,” so many of us wait, reluctant to risk ruining the relationship and losing that person altogether.

It takes a big leap of faith and bravery to move your relationship out of the “friend zone.” But when it pays off, you have both your best friend and the love of your life. I recently asked, “What are your tips for lasting love?” in our Wholesome Romance: Mills & Boon Heartwarming Goodreads group. I was amazed at how many of our fantastic group members (and it’s an open group, so please join us!) responded by saying that friendship was a key ingredient to long-term happiness.

When I wrote Someone Like You, I drew on the idea that although there is fear and trepidation in moving beyond friendship, it is the best predictor of lifelong joy. My main characters, Kayleigh and Niall, have been best friends since childhood. They have a special bond neither wants to put at risk by following their hearts. Yet finding true love takes real courage, which is, ultimately, the heart of this novel.

I would love to hear from you. And about your own love stories. To contact me, please email karenrock@live.com. Thanks!

Karen

Someone Like You
Karen Rock

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KAREN ROCK

is an award-winning young-adult and adult contemporary author. She holds a master’s of fine arts in English and worked as an English Language Arts instructor before becoming a full-time author. When she’s not writing, Karen loves scouring estate sales for vintage books, cooking her grandmother’s family recipes, hiking and redesigning her gardens. She lives in the Adirondack Mountain region with her husband, daughter and two Cavalier King cocker spaniels who have yet to understand the concept of “fetch,” though they know a lot about love.

www.KarenRock.com

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To Greg, my best friend and the love of my life. I’m so glad I met someone like you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

KAYLEIGH RENSHAW’S PEN wavered as she crossed out the last two items on her to-do list: return engagement ring; quit job.

She dropped the pen and shivered, pulling her cardigan tight. These were the first steps toward her new life. She should feel good. Confident. Certain.

Her head dropped to her desk blotter. Oh, who was she kidding? She didn’t know how to go forward, and she couldn’t go back. Or wouldn’t. Not after what she’d seen. Her fingertips pressed against her eyelids as if to blot out last night’s image. How could Brett deceive her that way?

Was she doing the right thing? She peered up at a family picture taken the summer before her parents divorced. Her older brother, Chris, smiled back at her from the photo, and tears blurred her vision. She straightened trembling shoulders. He wouldn’t have wanted her to be weak, even if last night had shattered her.

While Chris had cannonballed into the deep end of life, she’d always stuck to the shallow end, where her feet touched solid ground. Now she’d been tossed into untested waters, and she floundered off balance, expecting to sink at any moment.

A light knock sounded on her office door, and she pushed a snarled curl behind her ear before dabbing at last night’s mascara. “Come in!”

The door swung open, and her coworker and roommate, Gianna, peered around the edge. Her concerned face brought a stinging rush to Kayleigh’s eyes, and her nose burned. She waved Gianna inside and uncapped her water bottle. The long swallow did little to banish the dryness in her tight throat.

“Is it true?” Gianna threw her long coltish shape into a desk chair and leaned forward, her brown eyes searching Kayleigh’s. “About you and Brett?”

“How did you hear?” Despair swept through her. Kayleigh had just left her boss and fiancé’s vacant office. How could word have gotten out so quickly? She touched the empty space on her left ring finger, her stomach knotting.

“Pam. She found your resignation letter and ring.” Gianna nudged the tissue box closer. “The whole department is talking about it.”

A groan escaped her that Brett’s assistant had found the envelope. Now everyone would pity the woman whose life had imploded. “I marked the envelope private.”

Gianna squeezed Kayleigh’s hand. “Sweetie, in Pam-speak, private means open. You know that.”

Kayleigh kicked off her heels and hugged a knee to her chest, cursing herself for not thinking about that. But then, she hadn’t been thinking clearly. “I should have put it inside his desk...and padlocked it.” Gianna’s bark of laughter bolstered her. “Guess twenty-four hours without sleep plus jet lag makes you forgetful.”

Gianna’s razor-edged bob swung as she leaned closer and rested her elbows on top of Kayleigh’s desk—former desk, as her resignation was effective immediately. She gazed across the tastefully decorated room at the framed print of an Impressionist painting, its blurred strokes no longer coming into focus. None of this belonged to her anymore. It was the ghost of her former existence.

“Weren’t you supposed to fly back today?” Gianna glanced at Kayleigh’s desk calendar. “I wasn’t expecting you last night, or I would have guessed something was wrong when you didn’t show up at the apartment.”

Kayleigh nodded and cleared her throat. “I left the conference early. Thought I’d surprise Brett on our anniversary. Except I—I spent the night at an uptown coffee shop instead.” She’d sat beside a window crying as she’d downed five mocha lattes and a bag of chocolate espresso beans, vacillating among disbelief, hurt and fury. Now her insides were a scalding blend of all three.

“You should have come home to Brooklyn.” Gianna’s eyebrows came together. “We could have talked.”

“I didn’t want to wake you, and I needed time to think.” She had the rushing feeling of a rapidly descending elevator. How could she have been wrong about Brett? It made her question everything, including herself and her judgment. After a childhood full of hurtful secrets, she should have suspected her “perfect” relationship was too good to be true.

“I would have wanted you to get me up.” Gianna’s hand tightened around hers. “What happened?”

Kayleigh nodded. “I went to Brett’s when I got in last night. Only—” Her voice broke, and Gianna’s thumb rubbed across her knuckles.

She’d heard the romantic music and the squealing feminine laughter even before he’d opened the door shirtless.

“I found him with someone else.” Saying it out loud made it real, the words piercing her like shrapnel.

Gianna’s olive-toned skin paled. “Who?”

“Melinda Johnson.” Kayleigh willed the moisture in her eyes to dry up. Brett didn’t deserve any more of her tears.

“He put her in charge of developing your new software app while you were away,” Gianna breathed. “You’re sure they weren’t working?”

“She was snuggled under a blanket on his sectional. No, it was pretty obvious they hadn’t been working.” The leftover catered dinner on the table, the lipstick on Brett’s cheek, the nearly finished wine bottle and empty glasses on the coffee table and the guilt on Brett’s face when he’d looked from her to Melinda...all details that she’d absorbed in the moment it took her life to disintegrate before her eyes.

Kayleigh sagged against her chair while Gianna cursed.

“I’m so sorry, Kay. No wonder he gave her your title as team manager.”

The double betrayal was an arrow shot point-blank at her heart. Once again, she’d been sidelined and overlooked, trusting Brett that her time would come if she was patient.

Gianna’s long nails drummed. “You should say something, Kay. Complain to his boss, Mr. Green.” Her face fell. “Oh, wait. That’s his uncle, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Plus, Brett will just claim that I’m a woman scorned.” A paperweight from Niagara Falls caught Kayleigh’s eye, and she clenched her hands to keep from throwing it. Brett had proposed to her there. Had he wanted a spouse or a guaranteed business minion? She dropped the trinket in the trash and it landed with a satisfying thud.

“None of it matters anymore anyway,” Kayleigh muttered as she carefully placed her family picture in her briefcase. Brett had broken her heart and his word. She wouldn’t keep working at Genesis Software Innovations, regardless. “I’ll contact a headhunter. Get another job.” She thought of the financial help she’d been giving Chris’s wife, Beth, and their two sons since his death in Afghanistan. For their sakes, as well as hers, she needed to find another position. Quickly.

Gianna strode around the desk, pulled Kayleigh to her feet and hugged her. “We’ll work this out. I want the best for you.”

“Exactly,” said a deep voice from her doorway, making them both jump. “Maybe Gianna will talk some sense into you, Kayleigh. Stop you from making a rash decision.” Brett filled the doorway in a tailored gray suit with tiny pinstripes, his green satin tie and matching pocket handkerchief making him look slick. Kayleigh gave herself a mental kick for not seeing through his phony charm before.

He crossed the space to her desk and slid her engagement ring across the surface, the Tiffany’s diamond creating a prism of light on her ceiling.

Gianna caught Kayleigh’s eye and, at her reassuring nod, backed toward the door. “I’ll see you later, Kayleigh. Goodbye, Mr. Graham.”

Brett ignored Gianna and leaned on the desk, his musky cologne assailing Kayleigh, his thick gold watch flashing when his sleeves rode up. She breathed deep, the familiar scent making her want to burrow into his arms until this storm had passed. Only he’d caused the tempest and would never be her safe harbor again.

He glanced at a picture of them in her garbage bin. “Kayleigh, please. I’m sorry. I screwed up. Big-time. But it will never happen again.” He handed her the ring, and her palm itched as temptation battled within to put it on and to take it all back. “We’re meant to be together. Besides, you know you won’t last a week on your own.”

She dropped the ring on her desk. How dare he? She peered up at him, anger warring with fear that he might be right. Was he arguing to save a deal or a relationship? “Don’t say that,” she whispered, her confidence ebbing.

He came around the desk and clasped her cold hands. “You’re a dreamer, not a doer, Kay. An ideas person. It’s what makes you brilliant at concepts, but not at execution. Leave that for others. Let me take you out to dinner so that I can make it up to you. What happened last night won’t be repeated. Promise. You believe me, don’t you?”

But she didn’t. In fact, she didn’t know what she trusted in anymore except that she had to act, whether she was a doer or not. She’d worked with GSI since leaving college seven years ago. Starting over was a risk, but it was better than staying with a liar like Brett. A liar who apparently had zero faith in her. She needed to be strong and make her big brother, and herself, proud.

From now on, she wouldn’t be pushed aside, controlled or misled. And if she ever wanted romance again—a concept impossible to imagine right now—it’d be on her terms. No hidden secrets to blow up in her face.

“It’s over.” She handed him the ring, slipped on her heels and headed for the door, her briefcase in hand.

“I won’t accept that,” he said, his voice losing its smooth tone. “You’ll regret giving up on us.”

She stopped in the doorway and stood as tall as her five-foot-three frame allowed. “I’d be sorry if I didn’t go. By the end of the week, I’ll be developing apps for another company. GSI is about to get some competition.”

Brett’s surprised exclamation made her whirl. “You don’t honestly expect me to recommend you to competitors?”

She stared him straight in the eye. “Don’t need it. My qualifications will speak for themselves.”

“I give you a month before you come back,” he said softly as she strode through the door, her head high. “Think, Kay. No one will hire you without references. This is career suicide, and you’re too smart and talented to make that kind of mistake.”

She fought to control her face, though her knees wobbled at that cruel truth. Brett had cheated on her. Why would she expect him to play fair professionally?

Heads came together as she passed her coworkers. Their department occupied the entire floor of the ten-story central office, and the tight-knit group behaved more like a dysfunctional family than a set of associates.

Brett followed her to the elevator and waved his phone. “Call me when you’ve come to your senses, okay?”

She pulled out her cell and punched in a contact number. He gazed at her, puzzled, when his phone rang.

The elevator chimed, and she stepped inside. When he’d brought his cell to his ear, she spoke into her own.

“I already have,” she said as the doors slid closed.

* * *

A COUPLE OF weeks later, Kayleigh trudged down the main hall of her grandfather’s assisted-living center and halted at the front desk. After making cold-call stops at software companies to check for potential openings, her back ached, her toes hurt and the waistband of her business skirt dug into her skin. Time to rethink the extra ice cream she’d been eating to chase away the blues.

If only she’d found a job by now. When she’d heard the rumor from Gianna that Brett was blackballing her in the software community, she’d been skeptical. But after receiving her tenth rejection this morning, she was worried. What if Brett was right and she had committed career suicide? With limited savings, her options were running out fast.

She must have made a noise because a familiar redheaded woman stopped scribbling on a chart and glanced up. A warm smile transformed her stern face.

“Hi, Kayleigh. Here to see your grandfather?”

“I was, but he’s not in his room. It’s good to see you, MaryAnne.” Kayleigh grabbed the counter’s edge to keep from swaying on her feet. It’d been a long day full of dead ends. She really needed one of Gramps’s pep talks.

MaryAnne shoved back her bangs and studied Kayleigh. “You don’t look so well. Are you okay?”

Kayleigh contemplated the nurse’s dark brown eyes. They were so like those of MaryAnne’s younger brother, Niall, Kayleigh’s former best friend. A familiar emptiness rose within. She could have used his solid strength right now. Most of all, she missed him. How long since he’d stopped returning her calls? Two years? It was hard to believe since, prior to his tour in Afghanistan, they’d spoken at least once a week. Now only radio silence filled his end of their former relationship.

“It’s a long story.”

MaryAnne closed her chart and stood. “I have time. Let’s grab some coffee in the break room.”

A minute later they were seated in the small, sterile space, black brew percolating in a machine on the counter.

“So how’s the wedding planning going?” Kayleigh asked. It was a common conversation topic for them since they were both getting married the following summer. Well...one of them was. Kayleigh’s heart absorbed the thought without breaking. Good. Progress. Maybe she’d have only one bowl of ice cream tonight.

MaryAnne contemplated Kayleigh’s left hand and her eyes widened. “Where’s your ring? Did you lose it?”

“I gave it back.” Kayleigh’s chair scraped when she shoved it back and strode to the counter. “How many sugars do you want?”

“Two.” MaryAnne joined her and grabbed a couple of mugs from a cabinet. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”

Kayleigh hesitated before filling the cups. “He cheated on me.” The sting of it was still there, but it’d faded, like the shadow of a stain after a hundred scrubbings.

MaryAnne handed her a wooden stir stick as they returned to the table. “Isn’t he also your boss?”

“Was.” Kayleigh’s gulp of hot coffee set her tongue ablaze. She waved her hand in front of her mouth and MaryAnne grabbed some ice from the dispenser.

“Thanks,” Kayleigh mumbled around the melting cube.

MaryAnne set her elbows on the table and dropped her round, freckled face into her palms. “No wonder you look worn-out.”

Kayleigh nodded glumly. “I’ve been on ten interviews and haven’t gotten a job offer. Even my headhunter has started avoiding my calls. I was hoping to speak to Gramps. Get some cheering up.”

MaryAnne’s mouth turned down at the corners. “He’s in physical therapy and—”

“He’ll want a nap after that,” Kayleigh finished for her, her spirits plummeting. “I’ll come back another time for the chat.” Despite her best efforts, her voice quivered.

“MaryAnne Walsh to the front desk,” announced a voice on the overhead PA system. “MaryAnne Walsh to the front desk, please.”

MaryAnne stood. “I wish I could help.” She put a hand on Kayleigh’s shoulder. “What about Niall? You two used to be so close. Maybe he’s ready to come out of that cave he put himself in since the war. He might know about some jobs. He’s been doing independent programming work for software companies.”

“I don’t think he’ll talk to me. He hasn’t returned my calls since he got back.”

MaryAnne blew out a breath and strode to the door. “There’s more to it than that, though he won’t tell me. And he avoids everyone, even his family. I hardly recognize the bitter recluse he’s become. Seeing each other would be good for both of you.... If I can arrange it, will you meet him?”

Kayleigh’s brain fumbled for the right words to say. Niall. A reunion with an old friend would mean so much. He couldn’t have changed that much...could he?

“That would be—I mean—thank you, MaryAnne,” she said inadequately. “I’d appreciate that.”

MaryAnne came back and gave her a quick hug. “I know he always thought the sun rose and set on you, sweetie. When I tell him that you need him, he’ll be there. Promise.”

But as the door clicked shut behind her, Kayleigh was left alone to wonder.

If he did care, why had he shut her out? They’d supported each other through everything: her parents’ divorce and move, his father’s death and mother’s worsening Alzheimer’s. Yet when he’d been honorably discharged after losing his lower leg in an ambush, he’d rebuffed her. His rejection still hurt. She’d needed to tell him about Chris’s death and had wanted to comfort him because of his injury. Sometimes it felt as if she’d lost them both to the war.

They could have helped each other as they had in the past. A team. Inseparable since their summer-camp days.

His withdrawal had left an empty space inside her that no one, not even Brett, had been able to fill.

CHAPTER TWO

“I KNOW YOU’RE there, so pick up!”

Niall Walsh punched another line of HTML code into his computer, then glared at the answering machine vying for position with the modem, external hard drive, printer and fax machine cluttering his two desks. He pictured his determined older sister, MaryAnne, marching through his Bed-Stuy neighborhood, calling on her cell. Had she forgotten yesterday’s vow not to check in on him so often?

His phone rang again, followed by the beep. For a low-tech device, it was effective. He should have unplugged it when he’d powered off his cell. “I made your favorite, lasagna,” her voice sounded through the speaker.

His stomach grumbled. It’d been a while since he’d eaten. An empty pizza box balanced on his brownstone apartment’s radiator. It was the last thing he recalled ordering, and that’d been yesterday. Still, she’d given her word. Hunger or no, he was staying strong and not letting her in. It was better for both of them.

“Come on, little brother,” he heard her say after he let the phone ring a third time. “I’ve got to get back to The White Horse and help Aiden before my night shift. Buzz me in when I get to your building.”

He imagined the busy SoHo pub his older brother had managed since their father’s fatal heart attack. Aiden had taken charge of the six other children in the Walsh brood, and their Alzheimer’s-afflicted mother. At least he wouldn’t add to Aiden’s responsibilities. If MaryAnne would stop pestering him, he’d never bother a soul again.

He glanced down at his prosthetic lower leg. The last person who’d come to his rescue had paid the ultimate price; the guilt that he lived and his savior did not was a bitter dose he swallowed every day. If not for his actions during the classified mission, that soldier might have been home now visiting with his own sister.

“I promise not to clean your apartment.” Her voice turned pleading as she left her fourth message.

He glanced around his small, dim apartment, noticing things as MaryAnne would. Laundry spilled out of an overflowing hamper beside his bathroom door. His galley kitchen counters were covered in empty take-out containers, and his sink was full of dishes. Dust coated his coffee table, but at least he’d put his empty soda cans in the recycle bin.

Beside his shrouded windows hung a lone spider plant, its fronds green despite being watered rarely. He should just let it die, yet once in a while something about its droop made him lumber to the kitchen for a glass.

A loud buzzing sounded. She was here, not fooled at all by his phone screening. He swore under his breath and limped to the door. Some things never quit...like MaryAnne. Plus, she was his sister, and he wouldn’t ignore her. Not really. Just teach her a lesson...as in...keep your word about not coming over.

“Fine,” he called into the intercom, and then pressed the button to open the automatic front entrance. “But no cleaning,” he added as he unbolted his locks and slid back the chain.

MaryAnne brushed by him a moment later and marched into his kitchen. “This place is a pigsty!”

He inhaled the aroma of tomatoes, cheese and sausage left in her wake. His stomach grumbled again, grateful to her even if the rest of him wasn’t. When would she get the message that he didn’t want people going out of their way for him?

“What are you doing?” he asked when she shook out an apron she’d pulled from her purse and tied it around her waist. “I said no cleaning.”

His sister slid her eyes his way as she flicked on the faucet. She squeezed his dish soap bottle, got only a faint mist, then uncapped it and smacked the bottom until a dribble of clear gel oozed out.

“This isn’t cleaning. It’s excavating a toxic waste site.”

“I was getting to it as soon as I finished writing a program. I’m sending the prototype to my client this afternoon.”

She shot him a skeptical look, then shoved a clean, wet plate at him. He shouldn’t have relented, but there was no denying his demanding sister. He grabbed a cloth and began drying.

“You’re always working.” She passed him another dish. The crystal necklace he’d given her for Christmas winked under the single working bulb in his light fixture. “When are you going to leave the virtual world and start living in the real one? You’ve been home for almost two years.”

Her freckles stood out against her pale, round face, making him wonder how much she got out. She worked in the family pub, at an assisted-living facility and now, at her third job, taking care of him. He ground his teeth. He wouldn’t be a burden to her or anyone.

“It’s my life, MaryAnne, and that’s the way I want it.”

She handed him a mug, disapproval twisting her mouth.

“Staying inside all the time. Never seeing anyone. That’s not living. It’s hibernating.”

He shoved the towel inside a glass. “I’m fine.”

She arched an eyebrow. “But you’re not happy.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but the denial stuck in his throat. “Have you picked out your wedding dress yet?”

She shook the sponge at him, then got to work on his counters. “You’re not getting me off track, Niall.”

“Did you go with the princess or mermaid style?” He recalled her talking about it when she’d visited over the weekend. If lasagna was his weakness, then wedding details were hers. Two could play at this game. He sent out a silent prayer that she wouldn’t quiz him on what those various styles meant. He wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between a mermaid style or a princess style if an insurgent rebel had a semiautomatic pistol up to his head.

“Oh, it’s got a gorgeous train that’s a full five feet of lace cutouts with—” Her voice rose then trailed off. She swept boxes into a garbage bag and laughed. “You almost got me.”

When she struggled to lift the bulging sack, he grabbed it from her. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

Out in the hallway, he waved to his startled-looking neighbor—Mrs. Robertson...or was it Robinson?—and pushed the trash down the chute. She blinked at him as if he were a ghost, and he supposed, to her, he was. When was the last time they’d run into each other? Six months ago?

Back inside, MaryAnne shoved his laundry into his military bag.

“Leave it, MaryAnne. Aiden needs you.”

When she looked up, perspiration glistened on her forehead. She gestured around the room. “Not as much as you do.”

He ground his teeth. MaryAnne should be picking out wedding flowers, not wasting her time on him. He coughed at the cloud of lemon-scented furniture polish she sprayed on his coffee table, and gathered up the newspapers tossed beside his couch. When his prosthetic caught on the table’s edge, he went down hard.

MaryAnne knelt by his side, but he shook off her arm and stood. “I’ve got this. Go.” He instantly regretted his harsh tone when her mouth puckered. “Sorry. Look. Pick out china patterns and stop worrying about me. I want you to be happy.”

Her eyes glistened. “I am. Do you know how lucky we are to have you home in one piece?”

He flinched at her phrase, and she turned bright scarlet. “I just mean I’ll never take you for granted. After almost losing you...” She cleared her throat and hurried to the kitchen. “I’m not giving up on you,” she added over her shoulder.

The tap turned on then off, and she returned with a glass of water for the spider plant. Light flooded the room when she raised the shades, and he blinked until his eyes adjusted. It was a beautiful day, the kind of day you’d least expect an ambush. His mind returned to the day of his accident, and he whirled from the windows. “Close the shades, MaryAnne.”

“This plant’s never going to thrive without sun.”

“Don’t you get it? Nothing thrives in here.”

She pressed her cheek against his back, her arms slipping around his waist. “Then it’s time I got you outside.”

“I’ll see you next week on the Fourth of July.”

“Uh-uh. Not soon enough. You’re going out tomorrow.”

“Why? I had groceries delivered this week.”

A familiar smile played on MaryAnne’s face as she ducked under his arm and faced him. It was the kind of expression she wore whenever she’d sneaked medicine into a spoonful of jelly for him. Whatever she had up her sleeve, it wasn’t going to be good.

“A friend needs you, Niall. I spoke with her when she visited the assisted-living facility yesterday.”

“I don’t have any friends,” he said drily. Did she think he had some secret social life? His closest relationships these days were with the pizza delivery people.

Her smile widened, and unease twisted through him. He was in real danger when she looked this disarming.

“Kayleigh Renshaw.”

The name hit him like a punch to the solar plexus. Kayleigh. His rescuer’s younger sister and the best friend he’d ever had.

They’d once been as close as family. Guilt rolled through him at the loss he’d cost her. Worse, he was under orders not to speak about the classified mission, the reason he’d avoided her since Afghanistan. How could he see her and not tell her what had happened? If she knew the truth, she wouldn’t want to see him anyway—she’d hate him.

“Tell her I’m too busy.”

“She just lost her fiancé and her job.” MaryAnne smoothed back his overgrown bangs like a mother fussing over a child. “Kayleigh needs you to cheer her up, Niall. Remember how tight you two were?”

He couldn’t forget if he tried. And he’d given it his best shot these past two years. But putting Kayleigh out of his mind was impossible. Then again, what if she really did need help? He’d already stolen so much from her.

He pictured Kayleigh’s flashbulb of a smile, her bright eyes and the giggle that’d bubbled up even at the worst of his jokes. Only, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d said, or heard, something funny. He’d come to her rescue when her parents had split and she’d needed comfort, distracting her and keeping her spirits up. But he wasn’t the hero in anyone’s story. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry. The answer’s no.” He pulled down the shade, plunging his apartment, and life, back into comforting gloom.

MaryAnne planted fists on her hips. “I promised her that you’d see her. Maybe give her some tips on jobs in the software market.”

He swept a duster over his end tables, then plugged in the vacuum cleaner. “I do contracting work from home. I don’t have those kinds of connections.”

“She looks miserable, Niall. Please. Help me keep my word to her, and I’ll promise to keep mine with you.”

He sighed.

“Which one? That you won’t call every day? Bring food twice a week, clean my apartment when it’s fine the way it is?”

MaryAnne snorted. “This is also your office, not a barn. I made a reservation for lunch tomorrow at Five Leaves.”

He rubbed his jaw stubble. “I’m not the right guy for this. Better cancel it.” A restless feeling overtook him, and he wondered, despite himself, if he wouldn’t like to see Kayleigh. Even if it was just to reassure himself that she was all right.

MaryAnne’s eyes crinkled. “What’s the harm in a meal with an old friend?”

He held in a bitter laugh. If she knew the truth... But it was a secret he had to bear alone, the weight of it dragging him to dark places. And that was without the added guilt of a woman’s friendship that he didn’t deserve.

“Out of the question.” He flicked on the vacuum, hoping its hum would convince MaryAnne to leave. He didn’t want to be rude. She meant well. But she needed to focus on herself instead of him—and now Kayleigh.

The vacuum shuddered to a stop, and he glanced up at MaryAnne. She twirled the end of the cord. “She was your friend. Meet with her. Plus, I promise I won’t come by for a week except to drop off your laundry.”

He drummed his fingers on the handle. Save him from pushy women. Fine. He’d see Kayleigh. He owed her that much. More, really, but it was all he could give.

“Two weeks and no laundry,” he countered.

MaryAnne lightly whipped his arm with the cord. “A week and a half, and that’s my final offer before I bring her here myself.”

He glanced around the cramped space, pulse thudding, and threw his hands up in defeat. “I’ll go. But I won’t be able to help her. If you see her tonight, tell her that.”

“Tell her yourself,” MaryAnne called, lugging his laundry out the door before he could stop her. “Twelve o’clock tomorrow!”

Niall stared at the spider plant. What would he say to Kayleigh after shutting her out for two years? How could he face her, knowing her brother’s death was his fault?

He didn’t have a clue.

CHAPTER THREE

SLIGHTLY OUT OF breath, Kayleigh rounded the corner onto Bedford Avenue the next day and sidestepped a man wheeling a box-laden dolly. When the humid air blew her frizzing hair in her face, she shoved it back behind her ears. She’d been too excited to see Niall to waste time straightening it, and now she wished she had. At least she’d worn her favorite sundress and lipstick. Appearances had never mattered to them before, yet somehow, today, she cared about how she looked.

“What’s the hold up? Move it, buddy!” a cab driver shouted at a truck blocking traffic. He laid on his horn, and several beeps behind him filled the air. When she passed the road-rage scene, the moist, fresh scent of laundry exploded from a dry-cleaning business as a well-dressed man exited with bagged garments.

Ah, Brooklyn. She would have missed this dynamic borough if she’d married Brett and moved to his condo. Her neighborhood might not have the Upper East Side’s ease of access to Manhattan, but it vibrated with life, with the rumbling of overhead trains, the rattle of store owners opening security gates around the corner from gentrified streets and the ever-present noise of screeching tires, car horns and booming speakers.

Something about Brooklyn’s clamoring fervor made her more conscious of the thud of her heart, the rasp of her breath and the heat of her skin. It made her feel alive, vibrant and brimming with possibilities...such as reconnecting with Niall Walsh.

When MaryAnne had called her with the lunch date, she’d had to hear it twice. It seemed unreal, but here she was, moments away from seeing her friend again, and she couldn’t be more elated...or nervous. Did he really want to see her, or had MaryAnne twisted his arm? If he’d called her, she’d feel more certain.

Too anxious to sleep, she’d spent most of last night imagining how their lunch would go—what she would say, what he would do.... Would their old friendship rekindle or would they sit awkwardly like strangers? He’d always been her rock, strong and considerate when her world had fallen apart. Her mind flashed back to the summer she’d turned thirteen, when her parents had divorced.

“You’re taking me out of camp and making us move upstate on parents’ weekend?” she’d demanded when her mother had called the day before she and Kayleigh’s father were supposed to visit her at Otter Creek.

“Well...I...ah—” Her mother had cleared her throat, then seemed to take a long gulp of something before finally saying in a rush, “Your father and I are getting a divorce.”

“A what? Why? You and Daddy are happy.” Her heart had taken flight in her chest and beat against her ribs trying to escape. How could this be? They’d never fought like her friends’ parents. It didn’t make sense.

“We’re just not compatible,” her mother had said with a breathy sigh.

Kayleigh had turned her back on her inquisitive camp director and cupped her hand around the phone and her mouth. “What does that mean?”

“Your father and I don’t get along. I’m sorry, but we’re getting divorced.”

“And why didn’t you figure this out before you got married?” Her voice had risen, anger and fear lancing through her. Her artist mother and stockbroker father had always seemed like a mismatch, but they’d made it this far. Why break up? And why call now instead of waiting to tell her when camp ended? When Kayleigh was home, in familiar surroundings, better able to process the devastating news?

It had felt as though the world had reversed its spin, and everything she’d assumed about her life and family was wrong, her faith in both broken.

“We rushed into it. Please understand.” Her mother’s voice had turned pleading. “If we’d taken more time, maybe this could have been prevented.”

“What about Chris and me? Don’t you care about us? How we feel?”

“Of course we do. We’ve waited to tell you until now so that you’d enjoy the first part of the summer with your camp friends and have the second half to get used to your new home. It’s what’s best for you. You trust me, don’t you?”

Speechless, Kayleigh couldn’t imagine what to say. How could she trust her mother after this? Dropping the phone, she’d raced outside to discover Niall waiting beneath a pine tree. His eyes had searched hers, and he’d taken off after her as she’d dashed down to the beach, needing to be near water. Its undulating surface and calm blue depths had always soothed her restless spirit.

His shoulder had brushed hers as they’d sat on the dock, their feet swinging. Although he hadn’t spoken, his quiet, steady presence had reassured her in a disintegrating world.

“They’re divorcing, and they didn’t give us any warning. Not even a hint,” she’d said at last, her harsh voice startling a mallard that took flight, squawking.

“I’m sorry, Kay. That really sucks.” Niall had unclenched her hands and held one in his own. Despite her anguish, she’d felt a shimmer of pleasure at his touch.

“I hate them.” She’d chucked one of the rocks she’d scooped up on her run to the navy water, glad at the loud splash it’d made. “They only care about themselves. Not me and Chris. Mom’s moving us upstate tomorrow, and I don’t even get to say goodbye to my friends.” She looked into his large brown eyes. “Except you.”

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” he said, his voice cracking at the end.

Kayleigh chucked another rock, farther than the last. “We don’t have a choice, because my parents made it for us. According to them—” she’d made air quotes “—they ‘know best’ and need to separate because they don’t get along.”

He’d used the bottom of his shirt to wipe away the angry tears flowing down her face, his touch gentle, his soulful eyes full of concern.

“You said they didn’t spend a lot of time together.”

She’d swallowed hard, recalling that her mother had often disappeared into her studio behind their brownstone. “If they didn’t want to be together, then they shouldn’t have gotten married. I’m never going to be like them. Never getting divorced.”

He’d pulled her head to his shoulder and rested his cheek atop it. “Lots of people do.”

“Not me.” Determination had gripped her. “And I know how to make sure of it. Can I borrow your notepad and pen?”

Niall had reached into his shirt pocket and pulled them out. No matter how much he was teased, he’d always carried them around to jot down ideas.

“Are you writing them a letter?” he’d asked. The bright afternoon sun brought out the lighter brown strands in his dark hair and a fleck of gold in his eyes. Funny that she’d never noticed it before. A fluttery feeling took her by surprise. This was Niall, she’d reminded herself. A good friend. Practically a brother. Nothing more. Yet suddenly it’d been hard to look him in the eye.

She’d pulled the pen from between her teeth. “I’m making a list for myself. Traits for the perfect man. That way, if I follow the list, I’ll marry someone I’m compatible with. Guaranteed happiness. No surprises. You should make one, too.”

Niall’s eyes widened. “No. It’s not necessary. I—”

Her hand had fallen on his tensing biceps. “Please, Niall. I need to get my mind off my parents. Plus, you should find the right person someday, too. We can share our lists after, okay?”

Yet somehow they’d only gotten around to hearing her list—all fifty traits and her rationale for each. They’d talked until curfew, not wanting to waste a minute before her mother and brother, who’d been away at football camp, arrived the next day and separated them. It hadn’t been until he’d stood beside her car, her bags in the trunk, that a thought had struck her.

“You never shared what was on your list.” Her flip-flops had traced a figure eight in the sandy soil. For some reason, she’d felt self-conscious. When she’d peered up at him, his eyes had slid from hers.

“There wasn’t much to read.” He’d rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight from one foot to another.

“I’m going to miss you,” she’d blurted, then dropped her eyes when his startled gaze had met hers.

“Me, too. But we’ll call and see each other when you visit your dad in Brooklyn. I—” But whatever he’d been about to say had been lost when her mother had laid on the horn and Chris had given them a wolf whistle out the window, making her blush. They were just friends, yet somehow it’d felt as if they’d outgrown that term the night before, sitting by the lake.

“I’d better go. Goodbye.” Too embarrassed to hug him in front of her family, she’d simply waved and dashed to the car. As they’d backed out of the drive, she’d noticed Niall swiping his eye, as though he’d gotten something in it.

It was one of her most vivid memories, along with holding his hand during his father’s funeral the following year. They’d gone through so much together. Maybe now, at last, they’d talk about what’d happened in the war and comfort each other.

And that’d happen in minutes. Her nerves jittered. Would he be the way she remembered or different, the distant loner MaryAnne had described? It was hard to imagine.

She peered down the row of bagel shops, pizzerias and hair salons. Beyond them, she spotted Five Leaves’s glass-and-dark-wood exterior and blew out a nervous breath as she quickened her pace.

The old-fashioned gilt letters Oyster Bar caught the noonday sun, gleaming above Five Leaves’s oversize door. She stepped inside the air-conditioned space, the briny scent of seafood transporting her to Coney Island, where she and Niall had gone on so many adventures as kids. In a moment she’d see Niall again, and the thought made her shiver in nervous anticipation.

“May I help you?” A young woman wearing all black, her hair in a slick ponytail, stepped from behind a small podium.

Kayleigh’s eyes followed the hostess’s down to the run in her nylon, and she tucked one leg behind the other. “I’m here to meet a man.”

The woman’s eyes widened, and her nose piercing twitched. “Anyone in particular? There are quite a few at the bar.”

Kayleigh felt her forehead bead and started again. “His name’s Niall Walsh. He’s got dark hair...” Her voice trailed off. Did he look the same after his time in the army? She imagined his tall, wiry form and boyish handsomeness.

“She’s with me,” a husky voice interrupted her. She whirled, shocked into silence at the powerfully built man looming beside her. He’d definitely filled out from his military days. Her eyes flicked to his left leg, but not so fast that he didn’t catch her glance, his lips firming in a straight line. Warmth crept into her cheeks. She hadn’t wanted to make him feel self-conscious, but she’d gone and done it anyway. Not the best start to their reunion.

“It’s good to see you, Niall.” She searched his eyes, a jolt of familiarity zipping through her veins. The deep brown depths held the gold flecks she could count by heart, his lashes so thick they’d look girlish if not for his angular, masculine features. He’d always had high cheekbones, but now there was sharpness in his face, as if someone had chiseled out his firm, square jaw and the prominent brow that gave proportion to his strong nose and full lips.

His chestnut-colored hair was no longer clipped short, but layered lightly across his forehead and ears. He’d transformed from the young, earnest man she’d known to a handsome stranger. She flushed despite the steady stream of cool air blowing from an overhead vent. MaryAnne should have warned her about this change. It was doing something funny to her stomach.

“Shall we?” He held out his arm, and she took it, feeling awkward. Once she would have flown into his arms, and he would have swung her, laughing. But those days seemed distant, out of reach. Hopefully, they’d loosen up over lunch. She’d lost so much since she’d last seen Niall—Chris, her job, Brett. She wondered about Niall’s losses and knew the past few years must have been very difficult for him.

They ambled through the nautically decorated restaurant, navigating a maze of dark wood tables. Kayleigh forced her racing thoughts from the man beside her and surveyed the scene. The room resembled the inside of a ship with a wood-slatted ceiling, a brass railing along the oak bar and fishing nets and lures dangling from the walls.

Locals dressed in shorts, tank tops and flip-flops jabbered around them, their voices competing with a Jimmy Buffet tune. She hoped they wouldn’t have to shout to hear each other. There was so much she wanted to say.

She peeked at Niall’s stern profile. He looked as uncomfortable as she felt. But this was Niall. The boy she’d beaten in a bubble-blowing contest when they were eleven, the teen who’d taught her how to parallel park, the high school senior who’d celebrated with her when they’d been admitted to the same college, the young man who’d promised to write her every day from Afghanistan and then had stopped communicating with her altogether.

In crisp khakis and a white polo shirt that showed off his coloring and broad shoulders, Niall looked great. He was pale, probably from staying indoors as MaryAnne mentioned, but handsome. It felt as though she looked at him through the shifting lenses at an eye doctor’s office. One minute she saw him as her old pal, and the next she glimpsed an unfamiliar man with experiences and secrets she no longer knew. How strange to feel as if she was meeting him for the first time.

He pulled out the curved wicker back of her chair before taking his seat across from her.

“It’s good to see you,” she began, her voice sounding strained. Niall’s steady gaze was making it hard to concentrate. She hadn’t expected to feel this nervous and tongue-tied around him. “I hope you’re not here because MaryAnne forced you—”

“Let’s order, shall we?” he cut in, and flipped open his menu, Kayleigh dismissed. He could have been a drill sergeant rebuking a private.

Her temperature rose, but she bit her tongue. Was it possible he was nervous, too?

“And how are you two today?” chirped a waitress with blond hair dyed blue at the ends. She filled their water glasses and smiled, bouncing on the balls of her sneakers.

“Fine.” Niall lowered his menu.

“Would you like a table away from the kitchen?” Her eyes dropped to Niall’s left leg, and her mouth turned down in a sympathetic shape. “I saw you come in, and I wouldn’t want the servers to accidentally knock into your prosthetic as they go in and out with food.”

Kayleigh winced. Her losses had shaken her view of herself and life. She could only imagine how losing a limb had impacted Niall.

“We’ll stay,” growled Niall, his expression ominous. “And when I need your concern, I’ll ask for it.”

The server paled beneath her heavy makeup. “Then, may I start you off with a couple of drinks?”

“I’ll have a diet soda, please.” The waitress returned Kayleigh’s smile, but her face fell when she glanced back at a grim Niall.

“And you, sir?”

“Water’s fine,” he bit out.

“Bottled—”

He held up his glass. “Any more questions?”

“Very good,” she quavered, and rushed away.

Kayleigh’s fingers tightened around her menu at his abruptness. With each passing moment, her memory erased a bit of the friend she knew and replaced it with this harsh stranger. She needed to get past his grim exterior and discover if the person he’d been still existed.

“Do you know what you want?”

You, she almost said out loud. What if he misconstrued it? Thought she insinuated something other than friendship? Before he would have known exactly what she meant, but now she wasn’t sure.

“Yes,” she said at last. “How about you?”

“Of course.” His dark eyes looked straight into hers. “I always know what I want.”

CHAPTER FOUR

RIGHT NOW, NIALL couldn’t deny that he wanted to be here, with Kayleigh. Since he’d last seen her four years ago, the sweet, funny girl he’d known had matured. Her luminous gray eyes held the silver flash he recalled, and her long black hair still curled around her face. Yet there was something different about her. Gone was the girl he’d gone to camp with, and in her place was a stunning woman. Her green sundress set off her gold-toned skin and showed off curves that made it hard to look away.

How long since he’d held a woman? He gave himself a mental shake as he caught himself staring at her mouth. This wasn’t a date. He’d come to advise and cheer up an old friend. Nothing more. And the sooner he ate and left, the better. So far, Kayleigh hadn’t treated him like a charity case, nor did she know his hand in her brother’s death, and he wanted to keep it that way. His strange reaction to her only complicated things further.

“Excuse me?” he asked when her soft lips moved.

“It’s been a while.” Kayleigh’s uptilted eyes searched his. “Too long.”

His fingers curled on his lap as he battled the urge to reach for her hand. “I’ve been busy.” The feeble excuse hung in the air between them, and he opened his mouth to clarify his meaning, then closed it. Better to let her think the worst of him. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be as bad as he deserved. He didn’t want her thinking they would go back to being friends.

“I’m sorry about your injury. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“It’s in the past,” he said, then gritted his teeth against the truth that rushed to escape him. Instead, he swallowed it down and the familiar, hard weight settled in his stomach.

“Where were you stationed?” Her voice was almost too low to hear over the loud background music.

His gut twisted as he recalled the acrid smell of explosives around the besieged, remote outpost on his last day in Afghanistan. The slick sweat of his skin beneath his body armor. The staccato fire of bullets and flares of light where grenades hit. The screams of wounded soldiers and insurgents, along with his commander’s order to abandon the post. His hasty decision to double back and grab a hard drive containing classified information.

In the rush, he’d initially left it—a big mistake for a signal combat officer. It was his responsibility to maintain and protect communications. His eyes closed as he recalled the pain that’d ripped through his calf, how he’d been thrown several feet and grabbed by a Green Beret from the unit that’d been called in when the ambush began. When they’d staggered to the Humvees, they’d fallen by the wheels, the soldier’s limp body on top of him. Reaching around the man’s back, Niall’s fingers had come away sticky and red and he’d realized, with horror, that his rescuer was dead.

It wasn’t until Niall had regained consciousness, days later, to see his bandaged stump, that he’d learned a truth more painful than his injury. During his debriefing, his rescuer’s name had been shared. Chris Renshaw. Kayleigh’s brother.

His missing limb could never equal the loss of a family member. If he had grabbed the hard drive in the first place or left the post when ordered, Chris wouldn’t have stayed behind to make sure he got out. Kayleigh wouldn’t have lost her brother. Simple as that.

“Kunar,” he said to her at last, when she repeated her question. He gulped his water, then forced himself to ask, “Is your brother still in Afghanistan?” Keeping this from her was even harder than he’d imagined. Especially when he remembered how much her parents’ secrets had hurt her. No matter the time or distance, he still felt protective. Wished he could shield her. Ironic, considering he’d wounded her worst of all.

Kayleigh’s eyes closed. “He’s in Arlington Cemetery now. He was killed in a classified mission. That’s all the army will tell us.” She looked at him, her anguish as sharp as a knife to his gut.

“I’m sorry,” he said inadequately, but meaning it with every part of himself. “You two were close.”

Kayleigh rubbed her forehead and spoke from behind her hand. “I need to know what happened. But so far, my inquiries haven’t gone far.”

He sputtered on his mouthful of water and set down his glass. “Inquiries?”

“Yes. I’ve written to legislators and military staff. But I won’t give up. Chris wouldn’t.”

He struggled to say something—anything—that wouldn’t betray his emotions. She was right about the man who’d saved him. He wouldn’t have quit.

But before he could speak, Kayleigh’s drink appeared.

“Are you two ready to order?” snapped a heavyset older woman. He must have scared off the other girl. The one who’d been ready to serve him lunch on a gurney. Well, good. He’d rather be treated this way than have a pity party he didn’t deserve.

When Kayleigh turned her head, his gaze ran over her delicate profile and the slight jut of her dimpled chin. She looked soft and vulnerable, and the desire to help this girl who’d lost her brother leaped in his chest. But he doused the thought and sipped more water.

Kayleigh smiled at the waitress. “I’ll have the Five Leaves burger with gruyere cheese and bacon and a side of truffle fries. Oh, and could the cooks whip up some aioli sauce, please? A chef here made it for me once before. It’s just garlic, olive oil, lemon juice and egg yolks. Maybe add a little mustard to spice it up? But the Dijon kind, not yellow. If it’s yellow, then forget it. Please.”

The older woman blinked at Kayleigh, then shook her head and wrote down the order. He held in a laugh. Her habit of demanding outrageous, off-menu items hadn’t changed. At camp, she’d begged the cooks to make dim sum, offer hummus as a daily side and add Cajun spice to the sour cream on taco days. In college, she’d demanded gravy and cheese with her fries after having the dish on a trip to Canada. The cafeteria workers had scrambled out of the way whenever she’d headed down the food line.

The server finished scribbling then turned his way, her expression hostile. “And you?”

“The plain burger, medium-rare, and a side salad.”

“Coming up.” The waitress grabbed their menus without refilling Niall’s glass and marched away.

“Friendly,” he drawled. “She’d be a shoo-in for Miss Congeniality.”

Kayleigh’s laugh spilled from her like a shower of silver coins. “You’re terrible.” She took a sip of her drink, then another and another until half of it disappeared before she set it down. Wow. He’d nearly forgotten Kayleigh’s ferocious appetite, and thirst, always a shock given her petite frame.

She pointed her straw at him. “I mean it. And you probably scared our first waitress out of her station.”

“If you can’t take the heat, stay in the kitchen.”

Kayleigh rolled her eyes. “We’ll apologize when we go and leave her a separate tip for taking our drink order.”

He warmed to her, the familiar tendrils of their old friendship drawing him closer. But he forced himself to stay guarded. “Fine. We’ll leave the tip. MaryAnne mentioned that you’d left your job and—” His voice dropped away as he studied her bare left hand. Another man had put a ring there. Strange how much that irritated him.

“Yes.” Kayleigh cut into the awkward silence, her face glum. “I’ve been interviewing and making cold calls for weeks, but so far, nothing.”

“But you’ve been a software designer for the top app producer in the country. Genesis Software Innovations, right?” His fingers swiped through the condensation on his glass. “You’re a top candidate.”

When she banged down her drink, the fluid sloshed up the sides of the glass. “My ex-fiancé, Brett, is spreading the word that I’m trouble in the workplace. He was my boss.”

“He blames you for the breakup?” Niall pictured finding the jerk and beating some sense into him. Not that it was any of his business, but old habits die hard.

Her eyes narrowed. “Yes. Though he’s the one who cheated.”

He sucked in a harsh breath. “What an idiot. He lost the best thing he ever had.”

A slow smile dawned and stole his breath. “Thank you, Niall.” Then she sobered. “But we weren’t compatible. Do you remember those lists we made at camp after my mother called about the divorce? We called them Must Traits, all the traits our partner must have in order to be compatible.”

His heart skittered sideways. “Yes,” he responded, remembering that evening by the lake, the night he hadn’t wanted to end.

“If I’d used it with Brett, I never would have dated him in the first place. You know how honesty is in my top-five Must Traits for the perfect match? Well, Brett cheated at cards. That should have been a red flag. And he bypassed me for leadership positions...and being supportive is—”

“Number three,” Niall broke in, recalling her list. All fifty items on it.

She pointed her straw at him, her eyes alight. “Yes! And being open is number one. Brett kept secrets from me, the ultimate deal-breaker.”

Niall’s gaze dropped from hers, and he battled the urge to blurt the truth about Chris. How much longer could he be around Kayleigh and not tell her what had happened? Orders or not?

“You know—” she tapped her fingernails against the side of her drink “—that would actually make a pretty good app.”

“What would?” His mind was still in Kunar.

“The Must Traits list. What if it was an app that users could personalize? Wouldn’t it be great if there was a program to create a compatibility score based on how many Must Traits you have in common with someone else?” Her voice rose in excitement. “Think about the heartache it would save people. How it would prevent them from wasting time on the wrong person like I did.”

He glanced up and found himself unable to look away from her sparkling eyes. “Aren’t there products like that already on the market?”

She shook her head. “I’ve seen features like that attached to dating websites, but no mobile versions.”

“When you find your next job, you should pitch it.”

“I’m starting to think that’s never going to happen.” She stared at the table for a moment, then looked up suddenly. “What if I created my own start-up company to produce it?”

He was shaking his head before she finished her question, surprised. Kayleigh had always played it safe. Why the sudden shift? This new version of his predictable friend unsettled him.

“You don’t want that risk. Three out of four start-ups fail. Besides, who would you get to invest, write the program?” He raised his glass for another drink, then lowered it at her prolonged silence.

He met her eyes, took in her measured look and shook his head. “No, Kayleigh. Not me. I’ve got other contracts.”

She leaned forward, and the familiar smell of her, something light and floral, curled beneath his nose. “I’m not offering you a contract. We could be partners. A team, like the old days. Except I’d keep majority control.”

“Have it all. I’m not the right guy for this. You’d need someone to help charm investors, schmooze at marketing events, give statements to the press and most of all, believe in this dating app. That’s not me.”

“But it used to be....” Her softly spoken words gutted him. Yes. He had been that guy once. But the events in Kunar had made working in the civilian world impossible. Especially with her.

Kayleigh crossed her legs, her features sharp with growing excitement. “Hear me out. It wouldn’t be a dating app. It would allow people to input their own Must Traits lists and then synchronize it to others’ lists to get a compatibility score. You aren’t trying to meet people with it, just sorting out the good matches from the bad ones when you do meet someone. That way you have a better chance of starting a relationship with someone who’s perfect for you.”

“No one’s perfect, Kayleigh,” he muttered, feeling a phantom ache where his left calf had been.

Her lips pursed. “No. But there’s someone who’s exactly right out there for everyone. This app will make it easier to find that person and reveal the truth about what each wants right away. No secrets.” He caught a pained expression in her eyes before she lowered her lids and sipped her soda.

After setting down her glass, she continued, “Dating websites and similar products are market pleasers.” Her hand fell on his, and he jumped at the electric sensation. “We could create a viable business while providing a great service—reducing the number of broken hearts, maybe even lowering divorce rates.”

He wondered how much of this had to do with her parents. “It’s not that cut and dried. You’re being idealistic and simplistic. A product like this is a long shot in a market full of ways to get singles together.”

She snatched her hand away as if she’d touched a snake.

“I’ve been working in product development and app conception for over seven years in a Fortune 500 company. I know what the market will support. Besides, this isn’t about getting people together. It’s about ensuring that their relationship will last.”

“Based on a checklist?” Surely she knew that there was more to love than that. He hadn’t been successful in relationships, but his parents had shown him it was possible. Marriage took work, compromise and understanding, not an app with boxes to check off.

“You made a list that weekend at camp. You believed in it then, even though you never showed me what you wrote.”

“There were reasons.” He stopped himself from saying more. That was long ago, a different time. A different guy—a different him.

“So you didn’t believe in it then either?” She took another drink, her eyes on him.

“I don’t remember,” he lied, and hated himself for it when the color faded from her cheeks. But he had to be firm. Not give her any false hope.

The server arrived, dumping their plates in front of them before stalking away.

“This isn’t what I ordered.” He contemplated the runny egg oozing out of the sides of an oversize burger.

“That’s mine. Here.”

They exchanged plates, and he watched with amazement as she lifted a sandwich bigger than her face and chomped on it, her cheeks bulging.

“Aren’t you going to eat yours?” She dipped a clump of fries into a yellow sauce. Amazing how a girl who resembled a music box ballerina could eat like a trucker.

He lifted his burger. “I was, unless you want it, too.”

Her face brightened again and she smiled. His pulse leaped as he took a bite. Despite himself, he couldn’t help enjoying Kayleigh’s company.

But an abyss of secrets and tragedy separated them, and he needed to keep his distance.

When Kayleigh’s empty glass thumped to the tabletop, he hailed their passing waitress. “Another drink for the lady.” She continued walking as though she hadn’t heard him. “Please.” His raised voice made her pause, and she nodded without turning.

“Thanks. I couldn’t finish this without another one.” Kayleigh gestured to her plate, and with a shock he realized it was half-empty.

“So other than this start-up idea, what options are out there? Do you have more job interviews coming up?” he asked after another bite, hoping to distract her from her crazy idea.

The light in her eyes faded. “None. Even the headhunter I hired is coming up short. If no one else will take a chance on me, then maybe I should take a chance on myself. And you should, too. We were good together.”

He nodded, then caught himself. “It isn’t realistic in an uncertain economy. You have to think rationally...look before you leap.”

She gnashed on her burger, chewing with vengeance. When she swallowed, she said, “That’s exactly what Brett would say. And I’m done with playing it safe. It’s gotten me nowhere. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced. I want to investigate this further. Give it a try. What do you say?”

He met her hopeful eyes and shook his head, hating the disappointment that made her mouth droop and her eyes dim. “I’m sorry. My best advice is to stay away from a sure fail.”

She dropped her fry and hoisted her purse. He wished he could take back that blunt statement, but he owed her the truth. He’d promised MaryAnne he’d help Kayleigh, and that meant saving her from her worst instincts.

“You’re wrong.” She fidgeted with the zipper on her pocketbook. “You may not believe in me—yet. But I’ll change your mind. Give me a couple of days to draw up a business plan, and let’s meet again to discuss it.”

His mind raced over the impossible proposition. He could write the code, but the idea was flawed and lacked nuance. Kayleigh had grown up, but his earlier assessment was wrong—she hadn’t matured from the girl who’d listed big-dog lover or chopsticks expert on her Must Traits list.

“I’m not interested.”

She leaned forward, her expression determined. “This may be a gamble, but we’ll beat the odds. Social technology is dominating the market. This idea is fresh, user friendly and has potential for spin-off products.”

He glanced away from her and shook his head. His reasons for refusing went beyond business or his ability to explain.

“You want my help, and I’m giving it to you. My best advice is to find another job. One that pays benefits and has a 401(k). You don’t want all this risk.”

“What kinds of benefits do you earn working from home?”

He shifted under her piercing stare. “I get free medical with the VA, and I have my service pension. Plus, I invest what I make through contract work so I’m set. But you need more security than that.”

When her gaze met his, her expression held a hint of disappointment in him. “I’ll decide what’s best for me, thanks.”

Her words, delivered with quiet conviction, struck a chord in him. They both wanted to be independent, but for different reasons. She intended to leave her mark on life, while he wanted to pass through it without leaving more scars.

She flagged down their waitress. “Check, please!” she called, her eyes on him. “We’ll speak another time. I’d like the chance to give you a full presentation.”

But he’d heard enough. “You’re wasting your time.”

“So you’re content to stay home and never take risks? Don’t you want to go out in the world and live?”

Her words relit a fire inside. Yes, he’d always imagined a different life. But it’d been torn from him, along with his leg, two years ago. “I’m living the way I choose.”

She looked for their absent waitress, then stood and studied him. “I’m not giving up. Give this some thought before it’s an absolute no. I’ll contact you soon.”

And without another word, she strode to the hostess’s station, pulling out her wallet as she went. But before she could pay, he gestured to their server when she emerged from the kitchen and settled the bill. He hadn’t given Kayleigh what she wanted, but he would pay for their meal. He returned her wave, then sat back against his seat as he watched her walk away.

Kayleigh Renshaw.

Yes, he’d keep her at arm’s length. But just for a moment, he allowed himself to think about how much he’d missed her. And how much he always would.

CHAPTER FIVE

KAYLEIGH RETURNED A nurse’s wave and tiptoed into her grandfather’s oversize room. She heard him before she spied him reclining in a chair by a large window overlooking the lake. An open book lay on his chest, his eyes closed and mouth open as he snored. She glanced at her watch. Two o’clock. Given the Fourth of July festivities list she’d spotted on her way inside the building, he must be exhausted.

She hated to wake him up, but after a hard week, she was overdue for one of Gramps’s pep talks. So far, the programmers she’d approached with the newly written business plan for her start-up company had been less than enthusiastic. Without job prospects or return calls from Niall, things were getting worse by the day.

Niall’s dismissal of her app idea had strained the confidence she’d been patching together since leaving GSI. As an old friend, she would have hoped he’d support her. Instead, he’d acted like the kind of person she least wanted to associate with anymore—someone who told her what was best for her instead of hearing her out. Yet a part of her still held out hope that her old friend was in there somewhere, that he hadn’t changed as much as it seemed.

At least here, with Gramps, she wouldn’t be overlooked or ignored. With her grandfather, she always felt as if she mattered, and right now that meant so much. She peeked in his water pitcher, noticed it was nearly empty and grabbed it. At least she could make herself useful.

“Hey, Miss Kay, how are you doing today?”

Her grandfather’s familiar greeting made her smile and turn.

“Hi, Gramps.”

She set down the pitcher and hurried to his side as he struggled to stand.

“You don’t have to get up.” She kissed his creased cheek and inhaled the soapy floral musk of his pomade, his winter-white hair smoothed into a neat side part.

“Course I do. I’ve got to hug my only granddaughter, don’t I?” His laugh lines erupted like a solar flare as he pushed to his feet, leaning on his cane.

He enfolded her, the feel as natural and soothing as ever. “It’s good to see you, Kay. Sorry you’re here instead of celebrating the holiday with that ex-fiancé of yours. What’s his name again? Brad? Brent?”

She pressed her cheek against his heart, reassured by its steady thump. All was right in the world as long as Gramps was in it.

“It’s Brett, and it’s better this way.” She strove to keep the catch out of her voice and failed. It still hurt to think of him, but a little less every day. Focusing on her new business idea helped. If only she wasn’t coming up short in that area, too. She felt precariously close to proving Brett right, that she was a thinker and not a doer.

“Doesn’t mean the hurt goes away.” His unsteady hand slipped into hers, and he led her to a small sofa on the other side of his bed. “Breakups are hard on the heart.”

“Thanks, Gramps. But I’m doing okay.” She didn’t want him worrying about her. After a life full of its own share of setbacks, he didn’t need to be concerned about hers.

With care, she helped him lower himself to the couch, his other hand grasping his cane. Although his hip had mended from last year’s injury, she dreaded a repeat incident. It’d been terrifying to see her feisty grandfather laid up for so long.

When she sat beside him, something sharp dug into her back. A red shoe with an orthopedic insert. She glanced at her grandfather when she pulled it out of the couch’s crease and saw a flush creep across his weather-beaten cheeks. Interesting....

A nurse’s aide bustled in before she could ask about it and grabbed the empty pitcher. She wore scrubs patterned in daisies, her hair in a French braid. “Hi, Kayleigh. Are you volunteering today?”

“Hey, Reanne. I’m leading water aerobics next week.”

“Sounds good.” Reanne smiled at her grandfather. “Is there anything else I can get for you, Mr. Renshaw?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind delivering this note to Mrs. Larson?” He held out a folded piece of stationery and, with a smiling nod, the aide took it and left.

“Who’s Mrs. Larson? Someone special?” Kayleigh couldn’t resist teasing Gramps. “And shouldn’t you have sent her this, as well?” She held up the shoe.

Her grandfather hung his head and then rolled his eyes up to meet hers, his hangdog expression making her laugh. “I would have, but I’m hoping she’ll let me deliver it in person. She’s not speaking to me.”

Kayleigh wagged her finger. “You should have told me you had a girlfriend.” It felt good to tease again.

“Annette’s not my girlfriend.” Gramps took the shoe and held it on his lap. “I haven’t dated anyone besides your grandmother in over fifty years. I’m making a mess of it.”

“Who could resist you?” Kayleigh tucked a stray lock behind his ear. He really was the sweetest.

Her grandfather rubbed his jaw. “Annette’s got one heck of a temper. Dumped a bowl of oatmeal over my head when I accepted Martha’s extra bacon at breakfast.”

“Sounds like a keeper.” Her smile faded when her grandfather’s face fell.

“She’s not your grandmother, God rest her soul.” He fumbled for the tissue box beside his bed, found it empty and blotted at his eyes with his sleeves.

“You still miss her.” It’d been eight years since her grandmother had passed from lung cancer, and the ache of her loss flared up at the most unexpected times.

“I miss her every day.” Her grandfather’s chin folds sank to meet his collarbone, his voice a low rasp. “Every single day.”

“I miss her, too.” She scooted closer and put her arm around him. “But I know she’s still with us.”

“I can’t hear her laugh anymore.” He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “After she passed, I used to tell her jokes—in case she was listening. I wanted to hear her, and I thought I did...that little snort she’d make when she couldn’t help herself. I heard it. But now, nothing. I think she’s left me for good. Probably found some angel who can do the cha-cha-cha better than me.”

Kayleigh returned his sad smile. “Gram is still with you, Gramps. She just knows it’s not your time to join her yet.” She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling his bones shift beneath her cheek. “Besides, I need you.”

He stroked the top of her head. “I know, doll, I know. Your gramps isn’t going anywhere. Unlike Brat.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the mix-up over Brett’s name and didn’t correct her grandfather. Brat sounded about right. “Looks as if we’re both having relationship troubles.” She pulled back and met her grandfather’s direct blue eyes. Paul Newman eyes, Gram had called them.

“It’s his loss for letting go of a diamond like you.” Her grandfather pointed at his minifridge. “Still got some of that diet soda you brought last week, if you want it.”

“Thanks.” She crossed the tiled floor and grabbed a can as well as her favorite snack—white chocolate–dipped Oreos. She brought Gramps treats when she visited, and a few for herself.

“Funny how you drink that diet soda then eat all those cookies,” he teased, his eyes twinkling behind drooping lids.

“Makes perfect sense to me. Then I can eat more.” She tossed a treat in her mouth as she sat, her cheeks bulging.

“You’ll catch lots of fellas with that kind of charm.”

Despite the bad joke, she couldn’t help but laugh. Something about being around her grandfather made her feel like a kid again. “You’re not having the best of luck yourself.” She picked up the red shoe and waved it at him.

He chuckled, the sound starting low and deep in his belly and growing louder as it erupted from his throat.

“Maybe I oughta quit while I’m ahead. What’s an old guy like me doing thinking about romance anyway?”

“Looking for happiness. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Nope. But so far, I’m striking out.” He chucked her lightly under the chin. “At least I’ve still got my hair and my teeth. Not bad for eighty.”

“Life doesn’t get better than that,” she teased, then ate another cookie.

“Maybe for me.” His face grew serious, and his eyes searched hers. “But what about you?”

She glanced out the open doorway and watched a couple of women shuffle by, their heads craning to peer inside her grandfather’s room before they whispered and giggled together. These women had more going on in the romance department than she did. How depressing.

But lucky Gramps. He had a fan club, even if he didn’t see it. As for her, despite Gianna’s efforts to get her out to the clubs and tempt her to attend her family’s Fourth of July party today, Kayleigh found it hard to get in a social mood.

“I’m hanging in there.” She popped in another Oreo, sucking on the white-chocolate coating before it melted on her tongue.

“Barely, by the looks of it. You’ve got circles under your eyes. Besides your breakup, what else is bothering you?”

She swallowed the rest of the cookie and chased it with cold soda. “Still haven’t found a job, but I got the idea to use one of my own app designs to start a business. Unfortunately I can’t find an experienced programmer to write the software. Plus, I need an investor. Big money.”

“Maybe your father—” began Gramps before he stopped himself with a head shake. “Forget it. His young wife has him on a tight leash. With four new kids, I don’t imagine he’s giving even Chris’s family much help.”

Kayleigh let the soda bubble down her throat before answering. “Just some checks on holidays and birthdays. Otherwise, my stepmother demands that he focus on his new family, not his grown kids. You know how he hates confrontations, so he gives in.

“As for Mom, she tries. The paintings she sends Beth to sell don’t raise much money, if they’re purchased at all.” Kayleigh sighed, thinking of the framed canvases stacked in her closet. Her artist mother meant well and did the best she could. “It’s up to me to make this work, for Beth and myself, since I help her pay for Josh’s private school. But I’m failing.”

A bent finger, one of the two he’d broken back in his days operating a cement truck, lifted her chin. Their eyes met.

“‘Many of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.’ Thomas Edison said that.”

She smiled at her grandfather’s penchant for quotes. “Good one, Gramps.”

Then the meaning of the quote hit her. Failure wasn’t about not getting what you wanted. It was about giving up. And she was not a quitter. No matter what others said, she was on to something.

Her grandparents had been happily married for nearly fifty years, and her grandmother’s passing had felt unbearable. Yet despite losing his spouse, Gramps hadn’t given up on enjoying life. The red shoe was proof. It didn’t mean he’d forgotten her Gram. It showed that he wanted to find happiness where he could.

And wasn’t romance what made most people happy? If Gramps still believed in it, then other seniors did, as well. If he was struggling to meet someone again, she was sure he wasn’t alone. Her app could help them, not just young people. And many probably had smartphones, gifts from well-meaning grandchildren like her.

Youth didn’t have a monopoly on romance. Everyone, of all ages, wanted it, and she could make it easier to find. But if she gave up, it’d be their loss as well as hers. She had to trust that she knew best and not quit when success might be right around the corner. This was an untapped market.

Her grandfather beamed when she pulled him close and squeezed. “Hey, what’s that for?”

“Everything. You have faith in me.”

His smile pushed up his skin folds and lifted his ears. “Of course I do.”

She thought about the cryptic note to Annette Larson and how he’d inspired her to expand her app’s market. “Thanks, Gramps.”

“Bingo starts in the lounge in five minutes,” the PA system announced.

Gramps straightened and ran a hand over his hair. “I promised Annette I’d be there. Of course, she might not be talking to me anymore, but I should go. You wouldn’t be interested in playing with a bunch of old fogies, would you?”

She opened her mouth to insist that she would, but closed it when she thought of Mrs. Larson. Maybe he was hoping to make up with his lady friend.

“No. I promised Beth I’d stop by and see the boys. You have fun, though.”

He grabbed his cane and wobbled to his feet. “You have fun, too. While we’re alive, we should make every day count. In the end, that’s what matters.”

Exactly. Tomorrow she’d redouble her efforts to get her business off the ground. Prove that she was taking herself seriously, believing in herself, even if others weren’t.

“Okay, Gramps. I’ll see you in a few days.”

To her surprise, he pulled his cell from his pocket. “Why don’t I phone you on the text?”

A snort escaped her. “Gramps, you text on the phone.”

“Huh?” He fiddled with his hearing aids.

She kissed him, and they strolled out to the hall together. “Why don’t I call you, okay?”

He patted her shoulder. “Sounds good, honey. And keep your chin up. You’re going to work this out.”

She nodded, feeling more certain. “I know. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” He hugged her, then strolled down the hall lined with photos of residents taken at a variety of events. One even showed them in togas. Who knew the assisted-living facility was party central?

The key to business success was finding an unfulfilled need and supplying it to an untapped market like this.

Brett was wrong. She wasn’t just a thinker. She was a doer. As Gramps said, success might be right around the corner.

Now she just needed to turn it.

* * *

“KAYLEIGH?”

She stopped in the hallway and whirled at the familiar voice. Behind her stood MaryAnne, her pink scrubs clashing brilliantly with her scarlet hair.

“MaryAnne, hi. Happy Fourth. Sorry that you have to work.” She glanced down at her buzzing phone.

“Wait for me, okay?” MaryAnne said, ducking into the nurses’ station.

Kayleigh scanned her screen. A text from Gramps read, I’m toning you. That’s phoning you on my text. xo.

She chuckled and typed, xo X infinity.

MaryAnne hung her stethoscope on a peg in the nurses’ station then rejoined her, carrying her purse. “Actually, I swapped shifts so I could be home for our family barbecue. Are you leaving?”

Kayleigh smiled. “I think Gramps has a date.”

MaryAnne leaned in. “He’s quite the catch around here.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s happy,” Kayleigh said as they waited for the elevator.

The elevator chimed and they stepped inside.

“So what are your plans for today?” MaryAnne rummaged through her purse, pulled out hand sanitizer and squirted some into her palms. The astringent smell filled the enclosed space and made Kayleigh sneeze.

“I’m stopping in to see my sister-in-law and nephews before heading home. Nothing much.”

“Why don’t you come home with me? We’re having a family party.” Her eyes slid toward Kayleigh. “And Niall will be there. We could pick up your family and bring them.”

The elevator door opened on the ground floor and Kayleigh stepped out, stunned at the unexpected invitation, her head feeling light at the thought of seeing Niall again.

“I wouldn’t want to impose. Plus, I don’t know if Niall mentioned it, but our lunch meeting didn’t go very well.” She could only imagine Niall’s reaction to her being there. Then again, it was an opportunity to see him and make her case. Change his mind. Was this the corner she needed to turn?

MaryAnne pushed open the glass double doors, and they plunged into the bright, midafternoon sun. “Sorry, Kayleigh. Niall’s a tough nut to crack these days, but I wouldn’t give up. As for imposing on a Walsh family barbecue? Please. We’ll have loads of food and not enough people to eat it. Plus, we have a pool for the boys. Even better, you’d be doing me a favor. Niall is so uncomfortable at parties. You could talk to him, keep him busy.”

“Well—” Kayleigh considered. If there was a more perfect opportunity for her to approach Niall again, she couldn’t imagine it. And as Gramps had said, failure was giving up right before you succeeded. Here was her chance, and she’d be a fool not to take it. And she couldn’t deny that she looked forward to seeing him again. Hoped she’d find her old friend this time instead of the stranger in the restaurant. “Okay. I’ll call Beth. Ask if she wants to come and to have the boys ready. They love to swim.”

MaryAnne beamed and pulled out her car keys as they crossed the cracked asphalt parking lot, the heat so strong it wove clear ribbons in the air. Kayleigh took off her overshirt, glad she’d worn a tank top with her shorts. It’d been a sticky bus ride from her apartment.

“Good. And I know Niall will be glad to see you, even if he wasn’t on his best behavior. I can tell he enjoyed your lunch.”

Kayleigh stopped for a moment, then hurried to catch up. She thought he wanted nothing more to do with her. “How? He wasn’t willing to help when I shared some ideas with him.” Had he said something to MaryAnne? Did he want to see her again? Her heart thumped at the possibility.

MaryAnne flicked a glance her way before they stopped in front of a blue sedan. “Because he has a Five Leaves matchbook by his computer, and all of your messages are saved on his answering machine. Usually he deletes them, especially mine, but yours he keeps. When I dropped off his laundry, I snooped a little before he kicked me out.”

“Huh.” Kayleigh mulled over what that might mean. Was he thinking about her start-up? Had he decided to help? Deep down she knew that they’d succeed at anything. He just needed to remember how great they used to be together. How they could be again if he’d give them a chance.

Her pulse raced. There was only one way to find out. Although, if he got on board, she didn’t need another Brett telling her what was best for her. She needed her old friend. Partnering with someone who considered his feelings ahead of hers would be repeating history.

She’d come too far to go backward again.

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