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CHAPTER 1

P RESENT DAY

TRINA

From across the room, I spot my sister and Shayna on the dance floor. I push through the people crowding O’Riley’s bar and make my way over to say hello. As soon as Emily spots me, she smiles that infectious smile of hers.

“Hey, sis!” Emily stretches up to kiss me on the cheek.

I eye their outfits and they both look great.

“Geez, you two pulled out all the stops tonight getting dressed up, didn’t you? Shayna, I’m guessing this is Emily’s work, right?”

Shayna smiles and snorts—something she can’t seem to avoid doing when she finds something amusing. “You know it is. Your sister thinks I need to find a frog to kiss at midnight.”

Before I can answer, a male voice chimes in. “Well, I don’t consider myself a frog, but I’ll volunteer for the task at hand.”

I look up to see that the speaker is an attractive, bulky guy, with a few friends standing behind him, near us.

“I’m Jared,” he says to Shayna. “And you are?”

“Not in?—”

I’m amused knowing where this was going before Emily cut her off. It’s clear she was going to be rude. “She’s Shayna,” Emily says. “And we’d love to dance with you and your friends.”

That’s all the encouragement the three men need before moving in closer to us.

Oh, hell no. I’m not about to get sucked into dancing with this group of guys. That I’m even out at O’Riley’s bar on New Year’s Eve is a stretch for me. I’m certainly not about to spend my last few hours of the year pretending to enjoy myself with strangers. No way, no how.I’m thirty-one-years old—I no longer do things I don’t want to.

I lean closer to Emily. “I’m out. Enjoy your new friends.”

“Aw, Trina. Come on,” she practically begs.

“Nope.” I smile at Emily and, as I turn to walk away, a grating voice I’d recognize anywhere stops me dead in my tracks. The voice of Ben Donley.

“Jones,” Ben says. “You should find some other dance partners.” I turn on my heel to watch the interaction. “That’s my sister,”—Ben gestures toward Shayna—“And these ladies are with us.”

Did he actually look at me as if he’s including me in his little pissing contest? He must be crazy. If he thinks he can speak for me, then I haven’t made my disdain for him clear enough in the nine plus years since he broke my heart. I’ll have to try harder.

My blood is boiling, and I don’t even hear the rest of the back and forth between Ben and Jones. I quickly eye the man’s two companions and pick the taller of the two. I’m five-foot-nine and I’m wearing heels, so I don’t want to seem like a giant.

I reach through the middle of the group and grab the man’s hand. “C’mon handsome, let’s dance.” I pull him to me—and he comes all too willingly. I swear I hear Ben make some vicious sound at my back, but, like usual, I ignore him.

As my dance partner puts his hand on my waist, I wrap mine around his neck and gaze into his face. A twinge of guilt hits me at the hope on his face. It’s not fair of me to involve someone else in my attempts to make a statement to Ben. The right thing to do would have been to walk off the dance floor as originally planned and instead, I went the route of trying to piss Ben off.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Ben walking away and move my hands down to my partner’s shoulders. Over the next ten minutes, we make small talk and then I thank him for the dancing and excuse myself. Now I’ve got a date with a glass of wine, so I make my way over to the bar and order a glass of chardonnay before I head back to the table where my best friend and fellow firefighter, Fitz, is sitting.

Fitz has been my best friend for nearly a decade, since we met when we were both in the fire academy together when I was only twenty-two years old. We started with the Elladine Fire Department at the same time—him at Station Three and me at Station One. Last December, I got promoted to A shift captain and moved over to Station Three. Since Fitz is on B shift, we don’t get to work on the same day, but now I get to see him for a few minutes in passing when I’m leaving after my shift and he’s coming on.

I take a seat next to him and take a sip of my wine.

“How come you’re not dancing?” I ask him.

A sarcastic laugh escapes him. “Do you know me at all? I was a little surprised to see you out there cutting a rug.” He raises a questioning eyebrow at me.

“What? I felt like dancing a little. So?”

“So, nothing. Surprised me is all. Looks like Em and Shayna are having a good time.”

I take a sip of my wine and follow his gaze out to the dance floor, checking to make sure Emily and Shayna are okay. They’re fine, but an unfortunate consequence of me checking on them is that I don’t miss seeing Ben out there as well. I’m not shocked to see him with some leggy brunette hanging all over him. I force myself to look away.

Fitz and I sit quietly for the next several minutes, and I eventually glance down at my watch. “I can’t believe it’s only ten-thirty. I told you we should have stayed in tonight and celebrated at one of our houses. There’re too many people here.”

Laughter erupts from Fitz, and I turn to look at him. I do my best to give him a glare, but he knows I don’t mean it.

“What?” I ask. “I’m serious. Why do we have to stay awake until midnight? Except to wish you a happy birthday, I mean.”

“Sometimes it’s like you’re an eighty-five-year-old grumpy man living in a thirty-one-year-old woman’s body.” He has to practically yell to be heard over all the noise in the bar.

“Oh, you’re one to talk. I’m pretty sure if you didn’t have to work and eat, you’d be living on those ten acres of yours like a hermit, happy to never see another person.” I tease him, but he knows I’m only giving him shit.

“Nah.” He chuckles. “I’d at least want to see you and Emily.”

“So, I think what we’re basically saying is that we are both introverted grumps who prefer to stay home instead of interacting with society, right?”

“Yeah, that’s sounds about right. Guess that’s why we’re best friends. Thank God we’ve got your little sister to force us to engage with other humans and counteract our antisocial behaviors, huh?”

Thinking about Emily, it strikes me how much he’s been doing for her since her husband died in September.

“Hey, Fitz?”

He must hear the transition in my tone to seriousness, because he turns and looks at me.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for all you’ve been doing for Em. You’ve always been there for her, but these last few months since Teddy died, you’ve probably watched out for her more than even I have.”

He looks down at his beer and peels at the label. “Well, I don’t know about that. I just feel so damn helpless. I do things for her because what do you say to make it better, you know?”

I scoff. “Yeah. I’ve tried her whole life to protect her from getting hurt and to see her at only twenty-seven years old cheated on within a few months of getting married, followed by him taking his own life… That’s worse than the most horrible things I ever imagined I’d need to protect her from. I feel totally ill-equipped to help her and I’ve really dropped the ball.”

“What?” Fitz gasps. “You’re kidding, right?” When I don’t answer, he says, “Hey, look at me.” I swallow past the lump in my throat and turn toward my friend. He waits until my eyes meet his to speak again. “Tri, you’ve been there for her. Jesus, you literally held her together in the ER that day and for all the horrible things she had to do afterward to lay her husband to rest. You’ve fucking been there for her every single day since. So don’t think for a second you’re not one hundred percent helping her get through this. Got it?”

I can’t answer him because I’m afraid I’ll get choked up, and I don’t cry. At least not in front of people. Instead, I simply nod at him and look up as our friends, Annie and Jack, walk back up to the table.

Annie’s the assistant nurse manager at First City ER and Jack is a fellow firefighter and the B shift captain over at Station Three with Fitz and me. He’s also Ben’s twin, but I won’t hold it against him.

“Hey guys, you having fun?” Annie asks as they take their seats.

“Loads,” I deadpan.

Annie chuckles in response. She’s only lived in Elladine a little under a year, but she’s already part of our friend group and is a member of the steamy book club Emily, Shayna, and I are in. So, she knows how much this kind of night out is not my cup of tea.

“Don’t mind her. She’s up past her bedtime,” Fitz teases.

I roll my eyes at him and take another sip of my wine, grateful that the three of them keep the conversation up between them and I can just sit and people watch. Which is good and bad. Good, because it passes the time, but bad because I can’t keep myself from intermittently searching out Ben in the bar. And every time I do, he’s looking cozy with the woman he’s been hanging with all evening. I hate the discomfort in the pit of my stomach whenever I see it.

Why do I let this bother me? It’s been so long since we were together for those few months and it’s not like I haven’t seen him with someone else.

When it’s about eleven-forty-five, Annie and Jack head back out to the dance floor, looking at each other with love in their eyes.

I lean over to Fitz. “Hey, I think I’m gonna head out. I’m tired. Do you mind?”

Before he can answer, Emily walks up to our table.

“Hey, you two. What are you up to?” Emily asks.

“Your lame-ass sister here was telling me she’s gonna duck out now and go home,” Fitz says.

“Really, Trina? You okay?” I hate the concern that crosses my sister’s pretty face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You two worry too much. I’m just tired.”

I stand up and hug Emily. Seeing Ben in my line of vision over her shoulder, his date whispering in his ear, I’m surer than ever… it’s time for me to leave.

* * *

BEN

All I wanted out of tonight was to chill out and hang out with my friends and my siblings—fortunately for me, there’s some overlap there, so I don’t have to choose between the two. But when Trina walked into O’Riley’s bar tonight a half hour after I arrived, her presence disrupted any chance of me relaxing.

I’m surprised to see her here at all. We only dated for a few months all those years ago, but I know her. I’ve studied her over the years, starting all the way back to my freshman year of high school. I chalk it up to the detective in me. That’s how I know this isn’t her scene. She’d probably rather be home reading. But she’s here, in a crowded bar, in an environment she can’t control. And I suspect it makes her uneasy.

So, when I saw her on the dance floor with Shayna and Emily, along with a few cops from Meadow Creek, I could read the discomfort in her tense shoulders. I saw the way the smile on her face—the one she’s only ever given to Emily—faded away when the men approached them. Everything in me knows Trina was about to walk away from them and leave the dance floor. But she didn’t do it fast enough for my liking and I couldn’t stop myself from getting involved.

I told myself it was because Jones was talking to Shayna and he’s a misogynistic jerk who I don’t want anywhere near my sister. But Shayna’s an excellent judge of character, tough as hell, and just as smart. She might hang with someone like Jones and his friends for a few hours, but there’s almost no chance anything more would come of it.

The real reason I stuck my nose in it was that I couldn’t stand seeing Trina with them. I saw the way Jones and his friends were checking her out before they got up and talked to the women. Emily and Shayna weren’t immune to the men’s ogling either—all three women are beautiful—but Trina clearly had the attention of the two men with Jones. It’s been like that since I’ve known her. She’s a natural beauty with long, wavy blonde hair, legs that go on for miles, and a beautiful face. A face not hidden behind makeup, except for occasional lip gloss. But it’s her eyes—those striking blue, almost turquoise-colored eyes—that have always been my kryptonite. From the moment I met her at the end of soccer practice over fifteen years ago, they’ve held me under their spell any time I’ve looked in them.

Trina’s eyes say more than her mouth ever has. They speak of sadness, worry, insecurity, love, protectiveness, resilience… Trina has always been the most gorgeous woman in every room without even trying and she lacks awareness of it. Tonight is no exception.

So, when I was acting like a caveman and rescuing my sister, Trina, and Emily from a situation any of them could have handled on their own had they wanted to, and Trina reached across me and pulled one man to her, wrapping her arms intimately around his neck, I was fuming. I like to think that I’m a good guy, but I’m aware my major weakness is my ego—as in that arrogant bastard that lives inside of me and screams for attention whenever he feels slighted.

That’s how I ended up here, with an attractive brunette who’s been hanging on me for the last few hours, feeding my ego. Trina may not want me, but this woman seems to. So, who cares about the fact that no smile graces Trina’s face and her eyes are dull whenever she glances at me—which she seems to do a lot—throughout the evening? Who cares that she seems to stare off when Annie and Jack join her and Fitz at the table, minimally engaged in the conversation?

Damnit, I care. I do and I’m a self-centered dick for flaunting the attentions of the woman I’m dancing with in front of Trina, fueling the rumor that I’m a playboy and not one to settle down. So, when I see her walking out the door of the bar at quarter to midnight—because I’m watching her, too, like I always do—I excuse myself from the stunned woman I’ve been trying to distract myself with and I weave through the crowd to get to the exit.

When I step outside, the biting cold air momentarily takes my breath away. I dart my eyes around, looking for Trina, though she has a few minutes head start on me. I see her about a half block down, typing into her phone, and I run—not walk, not jog—to where she’s standing.

“Trina.” I breathe out, slightly heavy.

Her widening eyes fly up to meet mine. “What’s wrong? Is Emily okay?” There’s a note of panic in her voice and I regret not taking more care in my approach so as not to frighten her.

“Yeah, sorry. Emily’s fine.”

Trina’s eyebrows move closer together, and she wears a blank expression of confusion.

“Why are you out here?”

I don’t miss that her voice sounds fatigued, and she rubs her hand over her forehead like she used to do when she’d get one of those horrible migraines.

“Does your head hurt? Did you eat anything? Not eating makes your headaches worse so?—”

“Ben. It doesn’t matter if my head hurts or if I’ve eaten. You don’t need to worry about me. My ride will be here in”—she looks at her phone—“three minutes. Did you need something?”

My heart rate kicks up. I’m not sure what I thought I’d say when I caught up to her. But I couldn’t let her go. Still, I’m tongue-tied.

Her jaw visibly clenches. “If there’s nothing you need, you probably should get back to your date.”

“She’s not my date.” I’m quick to answer.

Trina rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to say something, but snaps it shuts before speaking.

“What? Say what you were going to.” There’s a challenge in my voice.

For over nine years, I’ve been taking any chance I can get to make Trina engage with me again. Even if it’s fighting with me. Problem is, I rarely get her to take the bait. And it kills me.

A dejected sigh escapes her, and she simply stares down the street, presumably watching for her ride.

“Nothing, Ben.” Her voice is practically a whisper.

Annoyed, I step in front of her and peer directly into her eyes. “Why do you still hate me so much? It’s been over nine years, Trina.”

Hurt flashes in her gorgeous eyes before she catches herself and the usual mask of indifference she wears with me replaces the hint of pain.

“My ride’s here,” she whispers.

Before I can say anything else, she steps around me and shuts herself into the vehicle. When I watch her through the thick glass of the car window, she’s got one hand over her eyes and forehead and the other gripping the back of her neck.

My heart sinks because I’ve only seen her grasp her head and neck like that once before. It was on the worst night of my life to date, and it was the only time I ever saw her cry.