Author: Kristan Higgins


“Hey, Posey, come see it!” Nicole called, and obediently Posey trotted down the hall.


“It looks great,” she said.


“I love it.” Nicole gave her a look. “So, Posey, if you knew my mom, did you also know my father back then?”


Posey glanced at Liam, who narrowed his eyes slightly in warning. “I sure did,” she said, feeling the start of a smile warm her chest.


“What was he like?” Nicole asked.


“What was he like? Or what did he think he was like?” Posey asked, her grin spreading.


“Watch it,” Liam muttered.


“Both! Why? Was he a jerk?” Nicole asked, clapping her hands in delight.


“It was like having Heath Ledger wander the halls of our little high school, Nicole,” Posey said. “Leather jacket, ripped jeans, crappy grades, the whole cliché.”


“Not all my grades were bad,” he countered.


“Girls wanted to, uh, date him, men wanted to be him. He was so intense,” Posey said, getting a laugh from Nicole.


“Dad! You always make it sound like you were perfect!”


“Oh, he was.” Posey sighed dramatically. “Perfectly dreamy.”


“Ew!” Nicole squealed.


“Okay, I’m gonna start supper,” Liam said.


“Which is my cue to go,” Posey said.


“Oh, can you stay for a minute?” Nicole asked. In the doorway, Liam paused. “I want to ask Posey about Mom,” she added.


“Sure,” he said and then was gone down the hall.


Odd, to picture Liam Murphy cooking dinner. Setting the table, making sure his kid had green veggies and stuff like that.


“Can you, like…I don’t know, just tell me a little bit about my mom?” Nicole asked, sitting on her bed. Her expression was eager.


Posey took a seat in the desk chair. “Sure,” she said. “Um, I went to Sweetie Sue’s a lot.” Nicole grinned, and Posey smiled back. “She always gave me an extra scoop for free.”


“She was great about dessert,” the girl said, her eyes getting a little wet. “Way more mellow than Dad. What else?”


“Well, we went to the same church, so I saw her there sometimes,” Posey said. “Your dad worked at my parents’ restaurant, so she’d drop by once in a while. She was always really friendly. Chatty. She was just…nice. Genuine, you know? She wanted everyone to be happy. Her nickname was Little Miss Sunshine.”


“Really? Like how? What did she do?”


Posey paused. “Well, she was always organizing food drives and recycling programs at school. Stuff like that. And she…gave me advice about clothes and stuff.”


“She had amazing clothes,” Nicole said wistfully. She looked at Posey again. “Anything else? Sorry if I’m, like, pumping you for details. I just…” The girl cleared her throat. “I love hearing about her when she was my age.”


Posey nodded. “Sure. Well, she…sort of arranged for me to go to the prom,” she said carefully.


“Really? She fixed you up?” Posey nodded. “Did you guys go with her and Daddy?”


“No. They, uh, they were with different people. You know how it is.”


“No, I don’t,” Nicole said with a huff. “I probably never will, either. Dad’s, like, psycho about my social life. Mom would’ve been much cooler. She totally would let me date by now.”


Posey had to smile at that—the bad boy now a stodgy old dad, clattering around making dinner.


“He needs to get a life so he won’t be, like, obsessed with mine,” Nicole added. “Do you know anyone he could date? Maybe that hot chick at your restaurant?”


Posey’s smile felt stiff. “Uh…maybe. I—” She winced. “I could check.”


“Hey,” Nicole said, “do you want to stay for supper? Dad! Can Posey stay for supper?”


“Stop bellowing down the hall!” Liam bellowed from down the hall. There was a pause. “Sure. If she wants.” Such a halfhearted offer that Posey rolled her eyes.


“Do you?” Nicole asked. “You can tell me more stories, okay? About Mom and Dad. I can’t believe Dad was such a jerk!”


“Oh, um…he wasn’t a jerk.” Crap. “He was just…you know.”


“Just what, Cordelia?”


There he was, the King of Testosterone himself. “Just a little full of himself, that’s all.”


Again with the narrowed gaze…kind of hot, really. Nicole giggled.


“But once he met your mom, it was true love and all that good stuff,” Posey added.


“Are you staying?” Liam asked—not very nicely, she thought.


“Sorry. I have plans.” Plans with my dog, that is, she thought, getting up from the chair. A dog who has better manners than you. “Maybe another time.”


“Bye, Posey! Thank you so much for the clock! I love it.” The girl bounced off her bed and hugged her.


“See you around,” Posey said, patting Nicole on the shoulder, her eyes growing wet. Emma’s daughter seemed just as sweet as her mother. “It was really nice meeting you.”


“After you,” Liam said, standing back to let Posey pass. She went down the hall, past the kitchen and grabbed her backpack from where she’d dropped it earlier.


“See you around, Liam,” she called.


“Hang on,” he said, and she jumped. He was right behind her. She turned warily.


The whole aging-rock-star-still-dead-sexy look…it worked. She wondered what he looked like with his shirt off—tattoo, maybe? She’d be happy to check…centimeter by centimeter…with her tongue…?. Enough, Posey! Guys like Liam—the last thing they needed was yet another ego massage from yet another swoony woman. Besides, she’d pined over him enough for several lifetimes.


But still. It was hard not to get a little…aroused…when he was staring at her like that.


“You want to go to the movies tomorrow night?” he asked, and Posey was so shocked she actually choked.


“What?” she managed.


“The movies? Tomorrow?”


“Um…I, uh…um…what movie?”


He narrowed his eyes just a little, and Posey’s nether parts gave a long, happy squeeze. Get his clothes off, those parts advised. We’re lonely. “Does it matter?” Liam asked.


The words had the effect of ice water. “Actually, yes, Liam. Why? Do you think your mere presence is enough? Because I have to tell you, God’s Gift, you’re not really all that anymore.”


Slowly, slowly, his mouth pulled up on one side, and Posey could feel those treacherous parts about to stage a mutiny. “What movie would you like to see?” he said in a scraping, low voice, and the effect was the same as if he’d said, I am going to smear you with honey and lick you clean, Posey Osterhagen.


“I…I don’t know…what’s, um…playing?” she muttered.


“Have you seen blah-blah-blah?” Liam asked. There was a roaring in her ears that drowned out his actual words. She couldn’t take her eyes off that mouth. That was a really good mouth, that was. Oh, yeah. His upper lip was just a little fuller than his lower, and she wondered what kind of kisser he was, what it would be like to have that mouth on hers…or any part of her, really, her elbow, her toe, because she had a feeling that Liam’s mouth would make her—


“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said.


Oh. Apparently she’d just agreed to go out with Liam Murphy. Liam. Declan. Murphy. Had. Asked. Her. Out. Holy Elvis Presley. Was this a date? An actual romantic date? Or was this two old sort-of friends just hanging out? Should she ask? Did it matter? Could she shove him to the ground and eat him for supper?


“Bye,” she muttered, then fled before she did something utterly stupid.


CHAPTER TEN


“THAT’S GOING TO fall down and kill you someday,” Henry muttered, staring up at the belfry. He looked at Posey and sighed, then jumped back abruptly. “Oh, God! There’s a cat. I forgot you had cats.” Henry was afraid of cats, something Posey and Jon found hilarious. “Why am I here again?”


“You’re not here. Jon is here,” Posey said. “I need advice. And the bell is safe. Mostly. But don’t stand under it, okay? Mom and Dad would kill me if their precious perfect got a boo-boo at my house. Shilo, you move, too, buddy.” They went down to the kitchen, where Shilo collapsed at Henry’s feet with a thud that shook the room, then stared up at Posey’s brother with adoring, red-rimmed eyes.


Henry sighed, picked up a bottle of wine, shook his head and replaced it, as if deeply saddened that his sister bought such uninspired booze. “You’re welcome to buy me better stuff, Hen,” she said.


“I should buy you a better house. This place is a death trap. Could you move this cat?”


“Meatball, go. Henry doesn’t like you. And this place is not a death trap! It’s great! It has character.”


“And too many animals. How many do you have, Posey?”


“One dog, three cats. They came with the church, like angels, right, Sagwa? Try not to show fear, Henry. They feed off it.” Posey giggled as her brother’s face paled.


“Can we stop talking?” Jon asked. “We’re getting ready for a date, and your sister’s hair is a challenge to even the most gifted hair gods. Thank you. Now. We want to look nice, but not like we’re trying too hard. Good thing I brought my tools.” He unpacked a blow-dryer and rounded brush from his little case.


“So, who is this guy again?” Henry asked.


Jon sighed dramatically. “Do you listen to nothing I tell you?” he asked. “His name is Liam, he’s a widower, totally hot. Better than that poser you were dating a while back, sweetie.”


“You were dating someone?” Henry asked.


Jon looked at Posey and shook his head. “Ignore him. Now. I’m thinking sort of a Natalie Portman look, right?”


“What does he do for a living?” Henry asked.


“Motorcycle mechanic. Custom bikes, repairs, all that manly stuff we know nothing about,” Jon answered. “Posey, tilt your head, honey.”


“Motorcycles are good for my business,” Henry said. “I did the coolest amputation on a Hell’s Angel last week, did I tell you, Pose?”


Jonathan turned on the blow-dryer to full power. “La la la la, don’t tell amputation stories, honey, how many times have we discussed this? Posey, what are we wearing?”


“Does everything have to be first person plural?” Henry asked. “Is that in the manual for how to be gay?”


“Well, sweetheart, if there’s a manual, you should read it. You’re gay, after all. Not that you can tell, sadly. Posey, he dresses like a straight, color-blind computer programmer, and it breaks my heart. Tilt.”


Tonight wasn’t a date, of that Posey was pretty sure. Or maybe it was, and she just didn’t know it. If he’d said, “Posey, I find you very attractive and would like to spend more time with you,” then she’d know. If he’d said, “I’m bored out of my skull and I asked you because you were standing in front of me and I have no feelings for you whatsoever,” then she’d know that, too. If only men were more straightforward.


The heat of the hair dryer was making her ears itch. She wasn’t sure this was a good idea. She wasn’t sure she even liked Liam. Lusted after, yes, she’d covered that. So did every female around, clearly.


But.


You don’t turn down a date with a guy who makes your knees buzz just by looking at you. The guy who held your heart in his fist for two formative years.