Colleen smiled. “That’s a lot. But go on.”

“And the other day, I was getting gas, and so was he, and I didn’t even plan that! He just smiled at me and said, ‘Hey, Paulie, how’s it going?’” She sighed at the memory of the magical words. “It was amazing. I mean, that smile, right?”

Yes. Bryce had a beautiful smile. That was true.

“He’s never in a bad mood,” Paulie went on. “Never has a bad thing to say about anyone. Not that I talk to him. Not much, anyway. But sometimes we lift weights at the same time, and...well, I try to talk to him. But my mind goes blank, and I never think of anything good to say. But last week? I had to walk past him, and I said ‘Excuse me,’ and he said, and I quote, ‘No problem.’ Colleen, he smelled so good.”

The woman had it bad.

“And when we were in high school, he never made fun of me.”

Colleen’s heart gave a squeeze. Paulie had a solid, athletic build and held the school record for the number of push-ups, beating even Jeremy Lyon, football god, a record that stood to this day. Her father’s business didn’t help her social status; he’d started out as a chicken farmer, and Paulie hadn’t grown up as comfortably as most of the kids in town, though not as poor as others. And then, when the Chicken King became so successful, well, that was different, too, and it was hard to be different at that age.

Though she was now the chief operating officer for the Chicken King franchises, Colleen had never seen Paulie out of gym clothes, and she always seemed on the fringe of things, as nice and smart as she was.

With a pang, Colleen realized Paulie reminded her of Savannah, her nine-year-old half sister.

“You know what? Let’s forget about it, okay? I’m sorry,” Paulie said now.

“Absolutely not,” Colleen said. “He’d be lucky to have you. I’m serious. You’re great, you have so many nice qualities...it’s not gonna be that hard, Paulie. What have your other relationships been like?”

“Um...I...I’ve never had another relationship.”

“That’s fine. So, no experience with men?”

“I’m a virgin,” she said.

“No worries. Nothing wrong with saving yourself for true love.” Colleen herself had, after all. Not that hers was an exemplary story.

“It’s more like no one’s ever asked me.”

Oh! Poor lamb! “Not a problem.”

“He’d probably rather go out with you,” Paulie said.

“Oh, please,” Colleen said with a flinch. “Bryce? No. We’re not... He’s a sweetheart, but not my type. But you guys...you’d be great together.”

Paulie’s face lit up. “Really? You think so? Honest? I’ll do whatever you say. You think I have a shot?”

“Absolutely.”

Connor was back. “Dad called. Wants you to babysit. Apparently, Gail needs a break.”

Ah. Gail Chianese O’Rourke, their stepmother, four years their senior, not so lovingly known as Gail-the-Tail-Chianese-Rhymes-with-Easy-Hyphen-O’Rourke.

“A break from what?” Colleen asked. “From spa appointments? From shopping? A break from having breaks?”

“I don’t know. Ask him to call you on your cell next time. Hey, Paulie, anything else for you?”

“Uh, I’m good, thanks,” she said, shifting to take a ten from her pocket.

“On the house,” Connor and Colleen said in unison.

“Thanks.” She stood, tripped a little over the chair; Con grabbed her arm and Paulie flushed again. “Well. Thanks, Coll. You rock.” With that, she headed out into the beautiful spring night.

“I’m fixing her up,” Colleen said.

“Oh, God,” Connor muttered.

“What? You have something against true love?”

“Do you have to ask?”

The bar was emptying; the sidewalks, few that there were, tended to roll up early in Manningsport. Connor sat down with her. The only folks left were on the volunteer fire department, who felt that O’Rourke’s was their home away from home.

“Con, you think Mom and Dad screwed us up forever? I mean, neither one of us has a significant other.”

Connor shrugged. He hated talking about their parents.

“You should go out with someone. Jessica Dunn, maybe. Or Julianne from the library. Or I could fix you up.”

“I’d rather hang myself, but thanks.”

“If you do, can I have your car?” She gave him a look. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He grimaced, but hey, the twin telepathy was alive and well. “Don’t have kittens, okay? But actually, I’m seeing someone.”

“What? Since when? Who?”

“No kittens, Colleen.”

“Well, you’re my twin, my family, my coworker! We share a house!”

“Another life mistake.”

“Connor,” she said more calmly, “how are you seeing someone and I don’t know about it? Who is she? How long has this been going on? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because of this. I didn’t want you to go crazy and give me advice or start naming babies.”

“When have I ever done that?”

“An hour ago. You told Faith to name her baby after you.”

“Well, so did you.”

Her brother crossed his arms. “It’s not serious. Not yet.”

“I can’t believe you kept this from me. God, those three minutes you have on me ruined you. I should’ve been born first, and I would’ve been, if you hadn’t shoved me out of the way.”

“Okay, we’re done here. You wanna kick out the fire department, or shall I?”

“Get out, people!” Colleen yelled, and the various and sundry members of Manningsport’s bravest started reaching for their wallets.

Hello. Bryce Campbell was there, too. He must’ve come in when she was with the girls. He was watching the fire department with an almost wistful look on his face. Boys. They never got over the thrill of their first shiny red truck.

Well, no time like the present.

“Hey, Bryce,” she said, ambling over.

“Hi, Colleen.” He looked at her and smiled, and yes, Paulie had a point. Bryce was cute. That wasn’t news, but still.

“How’s your dad?” Smiling Joe Campbell was one of Colleen’s favorite patrons, though he hadn’t been in much in the past year.

“He’s great!” Bryce flashed another look at the MVFD, who were now filing out the door, laughing.

“You should join the fire department,” she said.

“Yeah. I doubt my mom would approve of that. I might get hurt.”

“You probably wouldn’t, though. Their safety record is stellar, even if they are a bunch of goofballs.” She took his empty glass and wiped the counter in front of him. “So, Bryce, you seeing anyone these days?”

He raised a friendly eyebrow. “You asking?”

“No.”

“Right.” He gave a mock grimace. “Nope, no one special. I wouldn’t mind having a girlfriend, though.”

This was going to be easier than she thought. “Really? What’s your type?”

“Aside from you?” He winked.

“None of that, now. Answer the question.”

“I don’t know. Pretty. Kind of...pretty and nice and hot, you know? Like Faith Holland, except maybe taller and skinnier, and don’t tell Levi I said that, okay?”

“Bryce Campbell. Looks aren’t everything, you know.” And if he had a problem with Faith—who was built like a 1940s pinup girl—she was going to have to tread carefully with Paulie. “How about personality?”

“Really outgoing. Like me, kind of. You know anyone?”

“Hmm. No one leaps to mind.” Actually, four women leaped to mind, but Bryce was a typical man—he didn’t know what he needed; he just knew what he liked. “But I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Thanks, Coll! You’re the best!”

“It’s true. Now get out, we’re closing.”

Half an hour later, Colleen walked to the yellow-and-red Victorian she shared with her brother. A duplex, so it wasn’t quite as dysfunctional as it sounded. Connor had left a little earlier, and the first-floor lights were out. Colleen’s apartment was on the second floor—a staircase in the back led to a small deck and her door.

She wondered if this mystery woman of his had visited the house yet.

“It’s all good,” she murmured to herself as she opened her door. “After all, we have somebody to love, too. Right, Rufus?”

One hundred and sixty pounds of scruffy gray canine agreed. She allowed him to maul her, scratched his rough gray fur, gazed meaningfully into his eyes, and then extricated herself. “Who wants a cookie? Is it us? I want an Oreo, and you, my beautiful countryman, can have a Milk-Bone.”

Some bozo had bought Rufus as a puppy, then, shocker, learned that the breed tended to get a wee bit large. But the idiot’s loss was her gain, because, as Bryce Campbell had suspected, Rufus and Colleen were kindred spirits.

She called Rushing Creek and talked to Joanie, the night nurse in her grandfather’s wing, and ascertained that Gramp was having a good night. Then, with a sigh, she got the snacks, made Rufus balance his cookie on his nose before allowing him to inhale it, then flopped down on the couch with the box of Oreos. Because really, no one had just one Oreo.

Love was in the air. It was all around her, as a matter of fact—Faith and Levi maybe percolating a baby; Honor and Tom getting married; Brandy and Ted now engaged. Paulie and Bryce (complicated on several levels...but maybe a chance for Colleen to do something good).

Connor and someone.

That one gave her the biggest pang. Granted, there’d been many times over the years when Colleen would’ve cheerfully sold Connor to the gypsies (and had, in fact, put him up for adoption when they were twelve and he announced the fact of her period in the cafeteria). When their parents went through their ugly, horrible, terrible divorce, she and Connor had become closer than ever. They often called or texted each other simultaneously. Saw each other every day.

It was strange, thinking of her twin married, a dad. She certainly wanted him happy, of course she did. It was just that she always pictured it in the happy, sunny future, in which she would have a great spouse and adorable tots.

But that picture always held a dreamlike quality, the image overexposed, as if the sun shone too brightly, and her husband’s face was blurred.

Once, she’d known exactly who the face belonged to, and it hadn’t been blurry at all.

CHAPTER TWO

“MOMMY SAYS YOU’RE emotionally shut down.” The voice came from the child standing in the doorway of Lucas Campbell’s office at Forbes Properties. A female child of the smallish variety. One of his four nieces, specifically.

“That’s adorable. I thought I banned you from visiting me,” Lucas said. He pressed the intercom to his assistant. “Susan, please call Security and have my niece escorted from the building.”

“She’s five years old,” Susan said.

“Have them send a team.”

Chloe grinned, flashing the gaping hole in her teeth. Too soon for dentures, probably. “Mommy says you’re constibladed.”

“I’d have to agree,” Susan said, then clicked off.

He leveled a stare at his niece. “The word is constipated. If you’re going to talk about me, you need to up your game. Why are you here? Didn’t I pay you not to bother me?”

“I spent your money.”

“So?”

“So give me more.” The kid had the soul of a Beverly Hills trophy wife. She skipped over to him and climbed onto his lap.

“Don’t think this show of affection will win you any points,” he grumbled.

“What are you looking at?” Chloe said, settling back against him.

“Mr. Forbes is building a new skyscraper,” he said.

“I want to live in the penthouse.”

“You’re broke. And you have no earning potential, I might point out. You can’t even drive. Not very well, anyway.” This earned a giggle, and Lucas smiled into his niece’s hair.

“Is that a princess you have there?” came a voice.

“Hi, Frank!” Chloe scrambled off Lucas’s lap and charged into Frank Forbes’s legs. “Uncle Lucas showed me your new skyscraper, and I want to live in the penthouse!”

Frank picked up Chloe and laughed. “Well, you can stay overnight before we sell it, how’s that? You and your sisters?”

“Hooray!”

“Little girl, whatever your name is, go see Susan and tell her to let you answer the phones,” Lucas said. “You can be her boss until your mom comes to get you.” Steph, Lucas’s older sister, worked in Accounting seven floors down, and often sent her youngest up to bother him. Chloe was in the after-care program that Forbes offered its employees. Cara, Tiffany and Mercedes—Chloe’s sisters—had all been in the same program, though they were now extremely mature at ages fourteen for the twins, and sixteen for Mercedes.

Chloe stampeded for the reception area, the promise of power the best bribe possible.

“When can we hire her?” Frank asked, sitting down in the leather chair in front of Lucas’s desk.

Lucas smiled and waited. Frank only came by to talk about one thing these days—why Lucas should stay with Forbes Properties and not leave, as he planned to, once the Cambria skyscraper was finished. But Lucas was done here, as grateful as he was. Frank Forbes, his boss and former father-in-law (and yes, a relation to that Forbes) had been good to him.