“Maddie, I’d like to start over.”

She was uncomfortable with the message she saw in Dylan’s eyes. It said, “I’m a man and you’re an attractive woman.” She didn’t want to get that kind of look from her landlady’s son. “You don’t want the coleslaw?” she asked, deliberately misunderstanding him.

“I’m talking about last night. There’s no point in pretending it didn’t happen. But we did manage to live under the same roof without problems when we were teenagers. We should be able to do the same as adults, don’t you think?”

She almost said no. Every instinct told her Dylan could be big trouble for any woman.

“I don’t see why not,” she lied.

As if he knew she wasn’t being sincere, he said, “It’s a big house.”

Not big enough.

Dear Reader,

Welcome to 14 Valentine Place, a wonderful old Victorian house that is home to three special women. Walk through the front door and you’ll meet Leonie Donovan, a mother who is very wise when it comes to affairs of the heart. Living upstairs are her two tenants, Maddie Lamont and Krystal Graham, two single women who try to be smart when it comes to romance, but occasionally need a little advice from their landlady.

One person who doesn’t need Leonie’s advice is her son Dylan. When he comes home for a visit, the last thing on his mind is romance. But as his mother is quick to point out, sometimes love happens when one least expects it—with or without any coaching.

I hope you enjoy reading about the residents of 14 Valentine Place as much as I enjoyed telling their story. I love hearing from readers and welcome your letters. You can write to me c/o MFW, P.O. Box 24107, Minneapolis, MN 55424 or visit me via the Internet at www.pamelabauer.com.

Wishing you a Valentine’s Day filled with love and laughter,

Pamela Bauer

14 Valentine Place
Pamela Bauer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

14 Valentine Place

CONTENTS

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 ONE

Dear Leonie: I’m in love with a guy who doesn’t even know I exist. Not that it would do me any good if he did notice me. He’s popular and he’s a senior. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much to be in love. What am I going to do? Will I ever get over him?

Signed: Sad Sophomore

Leonie says: Time has healed many a broken heart. What you should do is enjoy being young and have fun. Boys will come and go in your life. When you meet the perfect guy, you’ll be happy you forgot about this one.

“I SMELL CHOCOLATE.”

The accusatory tone had Madeline Lamont glancing over her shoulder. “I plead guilty.”

“I should have known it was you,” Leonie Donovan said, pointing a finger at Maddie. “Krystal hates to cook. What are you doing up so late?” she asked in the maternal tone Maddie had come to expect from the woman who was more like a sorority house mother than a landlady.

“I’m making fudge. I found the recipe on the Internet. It’s supposed to be the same one they use at the candy shop over on Seventh Street.”

“I thought you gave up chocolate for New Year’s.”

“I did. I went four days without it before I realized the error of my ways.” She stirred the dark brown mixture patiently. “You do know that some people consider chocolate a health food.”

Leonie chuckled. “Some being us, right?”

“Of course.”

“So when will this fudge be ready to help save our hearts?”

Maddie eyed the candy thermometer. “It’s almost done. I’m surprised you’re still up. You’re not working, are you?”

“I am.” Leonie stretched, rubbing the muscles at the back of her neck. “There were so many letters this week that I’m having a difficult time choosing which ones to use in my column.”

“I would imagine lots of people want advice as to what they should do about Valentine’s Day.”

“That’s what I was hoping, but most of my mail is from the brokenhearted. Unfortunately, there were an awful lot of people who made ending a relationship one of their New Year’s resolutions.”

“January is a bad time of the year for relationships,” Maddie noted pragmatically. “No one wants to break up right before Christmas, so they wait until the holiday season is over and then they say goodbye.”

“Is that the voice of experience speaking?” Leonie asked, propping a hip against the counter.

“As a matter of fact it is. I remember this one guy I dated. He had huge sideburns.” She laughed. “You should have seen how my friends teased me about that. They nicknamed him Elvis. Anyway, we started going out in July and by the time Christmas came along we—” She stopped in mid-sentence as a hissing sound alerted her to the fact that the fudge mixture was bubbling over the rim of the pot.

“Oh no! It’s not supposed to do that! I sprayed the edges with vegetable oil.” She groaned, frantically lifting the pot off the burner. “Now look at the mess I’ve made!”

Leonie reached for a sponge. “Don’t worry about it. That old stove has seen worse spills than that.”

“Be careful,” Maddie cautioned as Leonie mopped up the gooey liquid. “The burner’s hot.”

“Ooh, this is painful,” Leonie agreed.

“You didn’t burn yourself, did you?”

“No, I just hate to see good chocolate go to waste.” Leonie licked her finger.

“I should know better than to try to cook and talk about my old boyfriends at the same time,” Maddie said with a sigh.

“Speaking of boyfriends, I saw Jeffrey in the post office this morning,” Leonie said, rinsing out the sponge at the sink.

Jeffrey Anderson was a teaching assistant in the English department at the university, but he was more of a friend to Maddie than a boyfriend. In the past six months they’d grown closer and she’d been patient, hoping that what had started out as a friendship would turn into something else, but so far not even his poetry, which he wrote especially for her, could kindle the flame of romance between them.

“Were his eyes glazed over?” she asked, her attention on the fudge. “He’s been working night and day on his thesis.”

“He did look a bit frazzled. He asked me to give you a message, but I’m wondering if it’s safe… I mean, we don’t want to lose any more of the fudge, do we?”

“No need to worry about that. It’s done.” Maddie peered closely at the candy thermometer before removing the pot from the stove and setting it on a wire rack to cool.

“In that case, he said to tell you he misses you,” Leonie told her.

“He misses his back rubs, especially now that he’s spending long hours bent over the computer working on his paper.” Maddie added a chunk of butter to the mixture.

“You aren’t seeing him at all during semester break?”

She shook her head. “We’re both too busy, although we might go to the Saint Paul Sunday Chamber Music Series next week.”

“He mentioned that his parents were coming for a visit.”

“Another reason we won’t be together. His mother has a way of seeing things in a relationship that aren’t there. I call it wishful vision.”

“She’s hoping that you and Jeffrey are more than friends?” Leonie asked with a lift of her brows.

Maddie began clearing away the measuring cups and spoons that littered the counter. “He’s an only child and his mother is ready to be a grandmother. Need I say more?”

Leonie smiled. “Then it’s a good thing she lives nine hundred miles away, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” she said, rinsing the dirty dishes before putting them into the dishwasher. “Jeffrey and I don’t need that kind of pressure.”

“So he’s uncomfortable with her attitude, too?”

“Of course he is. He knows I’m not ready for that kind of a relationship. And neither is he.”

“Are you sure? About his feelings, I mean?” Before she could answer, Leonie held up one hand. “You don’t need to answer that, Maddie. I’m not supposed to wear my romance coach hat when I’m out of the office and you certainly don’t need advice when it comes to love.”

“You weren’t wearing your business hat. You were just being you,” Maddie insisted. “And looking out for the daughter of an old friend.”

Leonie smiled affectionately. “You are so much like your mother. I think she’d be happy to know that you’re staying here with me, don’t you?”

Maddie nodded, a lump forming in her throat. Even though it had been four years since her mother had died, she still couldn’t think about her without feeling the pain of her loss. “When we were kids she used to always tell us that if we ever were in trouble, we should call you.”

“Well, I’m glad you came to me—even if you weren’t in trouble,” Leonie said. “If you hadn’t suggested I rent out some of the rooms in this big old house, I’d still be a lonely, grieving widow. Sharing my home with women was exactly what I needed to move on after Frank died.”

The women Leonie referred to were the college students who’d rented rooms in the house at 14 Valentine Place. At one time there had been four of them, but now there were only two, Maddie and a hairstylist named Krystal Graham, who had moved in while she was a student at a cosmetology school nearby.

“You did all of us a favor, Leonie. Finding affordable housing near the university can be a nightmare,” Maddie remarked.

“But if it weren’t for you girls, my life would be quite different than it is today,” she said with a grateful smile. “I don’t think I’d be a romance coach if you hadn’t been here to encourage me.”

“Oh, I bet you would have. And the reason you’re so good at what you do is that you and Frank had such a wonderful marriage.”

Leonie sighed. “It’s hard to believe he’s been gone over two years.”

The sadness in her eyes tugged at Maddie’s heart. “He’d be proud of you if he could see what a success you are. And I doubt he’d be surprised.”

“You mean unlike my sons? I don’t think any of them expected their mom would get paid for dishing out advice on romance,” she said on a chuckle.

“No, but they’re all very proud of you, too.”

“Three of them are anyway. Dylan doesn’t really know the extent of my business.”

“You haven’t told him?” Leonie’s oldest son wasn’t exactly the black sheep of the family, but he was a stray one, having left home at eighteen. Seeing how close Leonie was to her other sons, Maddie found it puzzling that her landlady’s relationship with her firstborn was strained.

“It really hasn’t come up. When we do talk on the phone, there are always so many other things to catch up on.”

“You’re not worried that he won’t approve, are you?”

“What’s there not to approve?” she said, spreading her hands in the air.

“I like that attitude,” Maddie said with a grin. “I was only fourteen the last time I saw Dylan, but if I remember correctly, he was a pretty smart guy. I think he can deal with the fact that his mother’s a successful businesswoman.”

“I’m going to find out. He needs to have surgery on his rotator cuff and has decided to have it done by an orthopedic specialist here at the university hospital.”

“He’s coming back to Minnesota?”

“Mmm-hmm. Next week.” Leonie went on to explain how he’d injured his shoulder while working as an engineer for an overseas construction company. “Garret offered to have him stay at his place, but you know the crazy hours he keeps as a resident. I told Dylan he had to come here, that we have plenty of room.” She fixed Maddie with an inquisitive look. “His being here won’t make you uncomfortable, will it?”

“No, not at all.”

“Good. I know I’ve only had women living here since you moved in, but I figured there’s never been a problem when Jason’s come home so there shouldn’t be one when Dylan is here, either.”

Jason, Leonie’s youngest son, was a sophomore in college. Maddie could have pointed out that having a nineteen-year-old drift in and out was not quite the same as having a thirty-one-year-old man around, but she simply said, “Of course there won’t be a problem. This is a big house and since you’ve remodeled the upstairs and put in the private entrance, it’s more like separate apartments.”

Leonie nodded in agreement. “I know, but I like it when you and Krystal share my house with me. I enjoy our girl time and I don’t want you to feel as if you can’t come downstairs because there’s a man in the house.”

“That won’t change anything,” Maddie assured her.

Leonie smiled. “Good. I’ve called the plumber to see if he can get the bathroom upstairs finished before Dylan arrives.” She tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn, then glanced at the clock. “No wonder I’m tired. Look at the time. As much as I’d like to sample that fudge tonight, I’m afraid I’m going to have to wait until tomorrow.”

Maddie nodded and wished her a goodnight’s sleep. As she finished cleaning up the kitchen she thought about what Leonie had told her. In a week there would be a man in the house.

Not just any man, but Dylan Donovan. Memories of a tall, thin boy with brown eyes flashed in her mind.

She’d come to stay with the Donovans for the summer so that she could enroll in a dance program here. For Maddie it had been a dream come true. A chance to leave her small town in North Dakota for the big city and to take a class at one of the top ballet schools in the Midwest.

The only down side had been that she had to spend a summer living with a family of four boys. She’d grown up in a house of women, and the thought of being around boys twenty-four hours a day had made her uncertain and shy.

Especially seventeen-year-old Dylan. Not only was he city smart, he was the cutest guy she’d ever set eyes on and that summer she’d spent nearly every hour she was awake fantasizing about what it would be like to be his girlfriend. Convinced she’d die of humiliation should anyone discover how she felt about him, she’d worked very hard to pretend she didn’t like him at all.

Not that she had needed to worry. Dylan had no reason to notice a fourteen-year-old with braces and a shape not much different than that of his twelve-year-old brother Garret.

Unfortunately, it was Garret who had discovered how Maddie felt about his oldest brother. If she hadn’t beaten him at chess, she was certain he would have told Dylan that she fancied herself in love with him.

Maddie sighed, thinking how silly those adolescent crushes were. Dramatic but silly. She finished beating the fudge until it was thick and creamy, spread it into the pan, then took great pleasure in eating a huge chunk.

Dylan’s presence in the house would not create any awkwardness other than to cut in on what Leonie called their “girl time.” As Maddie washed down the fudge with a glass of milk, she said, “Nothing like chocolate to put your world in order,” then went to bed.

THE MAN SITTING NEXT TO DYLAN nudged him. “Did you hear that? It’s two above with a windchill of seventeen below. And to think people actually like living here,” the stranger said with a shake of his head as the plane taxied to the gate at the Twin Cities airport.

“Some people like the cold,” Dylan noted.

The stranger made a sound of disgust. “Me…I like warm, tropical breezes and white sand beaches.”

“Then you’ve come to the wrong place,” a flight attendant said with a teasing grin as she handed the man his suit coat.

Dylan hoped he wasn’t in the wrong place. When his brother had suggested he come home to have the surgery on his shoulder, his first instinct had been to say no. There were good doctors in Miami, which would have been a lot closer than Minnesota to Saint Martin.

Unfortunately, Miami was also where Andrea lived. Dylan knew that had he chosen to get medical treatment there, the flight attendant would have assumed he’d had a change of heart about their relationship. He hadn’t.

That’s why he’d allowed Garret to convince him to have the surgery on his shoulder at home. Now, as the plane taxied closer to the gate, Dylan wondered if he would have been better off going with his first instinct.

Saint Paul wasn’t his home anymore. In the past thirteen years he’d seldom visited, and when he had come to see his family, he’d never stayed more than a few days. Now he was planning to spend six weeks in the snow and cold.

Again he had the uneasy feeling he’d made a mistake. Memories of the last time he was home flashed in his mind. There’d been arguments over things that now seemed unimportant. What was the best way to memorialize his father? Who should be in charge of what arrangements?

Accusations had been made, insults had been hurled. Not the kind of scene anyone wanted or needed when grieving.

As the oldest son, Dylan had wanted to make those few days of mourning easier for his mother. Instead he’d only made them more difficult. Now as he grabbed his carry-on bag from the overhead compartment, he realized she was the true reason he’d come back to Saint Paul to have the surgery.

Although Garret had emphasized the reputation of the medical staff available to him at the hospital, Dylan knew there had been an unspoken message in that phone call. Coming home would be an opportunity for him to put right what had gone wrong two years ago. This trip wouldn’t be to simply mend his shoulder, but to try to fix his relationship with his family, as well. They both knew it and Dylan suspected that his mother did, too.

As he walked out of the jetway into the airport terminal, he searched for her face in the crowd gathered at the gate.

“Dylan! Over here!”

At the sound of the man’s voice, he turned and saw his brother Shane standing off to one side of the arrival gate. If there was one person Dylan hadn’t expected to see at the airport it was Shane, not after the sharp words they’d exchanged the last time they’d been together.

Dylan knew that the grief over their father’s death and the stress of the funeral were partly to blame for the tension that had existed between them after their father’s death. He also knew that not all of the blame could be assigned to the difficult circumstances.

Of the four brothers, Dylan and Shane had always had the most tumultuous relationship. Being only eleven months apart, they’d been extremely competitive and had often found themselves at odds with each other. Whatever Dylan had done well, Shane had always wanted to do better.

It was a rivalry their mother had done her best to discourage, often telling the two boys they were supposed to support, not fight, each other. She was the peacemaker of the family, forever assuring them that one day they would be the best of friends.

Their father, though, hadn’t seen anything wrong with their relationship. He believed it was healthy for the two of them to challenge each other.

Dylan wondered if that wasn’t the reason Shane had reacted the way he had at the time of his father’s death. When Dylan had tried to make decisions on behalf of the family, Shane had challenged his right to assume that responsibility. The friendship their mother had promised they’d have was nowhere to be found. He’d wondered then if she’d been wrong. Maybe they would never be friends.

When his brother greeted him with a smile, he had reason to hope they could.

“Welcome home, Dylan. How’s the shoulder?” Shane asked, sounding more like the kid who had played catch with him in the backyard than the man who’d confronted him in anger at their father’s funeral.

“Garret tells me it’ll be fine in a few weeks. It’s good to see you, Shane,” he said, realizing that it was the truth. He had missed his brother.

“You look good. Your hair’s lighter,” Shane noted.

Automatically Dylan ran a hand through his hair. “That’s from working in the sun. I’m surprised to see you here. I thought Mom was picking me up.”

“She wanted to, but when your flight was delayed I offered to come so she wouldn’t have to miss her class.” Before Dylan could ask him what class, Shane looked to his right and said, “Mickey. Come say hello to your uncle.”

It was then that Dylan realized that his brother wasn’t alone. Standing only a few feet away, watching the airplanes taxi across the runway, was a small boy who looked like a miniature Shane. At the sound of his father’s voice, he came running toward them.

“Remember Mickey?” Shane asked Dylan as the boy barreled into his legs.

“That’s the baby?” Dylan stared at him in astonishment.

“I’m not a baby. I’m four,” Mickey declared, holding up four fingers.

“Mickey, say hello to your uncle,” Shane ordered.

“Hi, Uncle Dylan.”

Dylan stooped so that he was eye level with his nephew. “Hey, Mickey. How’s it going? Can you give me five?” He held out his hand and the four-year-old smacked it in delight.

“We saw your plane come down. It went really fast.” His eyes widened at the memory. He glanced toward the window and said, “Look! There goes another one!”

Dylan watched him scramble over to press his face against the glass. “I can’t get over how much he’s changed.”

“Yeah, well, kids grow up fast and it has been over two years since you were home,” his brother reminded him, in a tone that held more than a hint of admonishment.

Dylan fought the temptation to defend himself, knowing it would only add tension to their conversation. He said simply, “He’s a good-looking kid.”

Shane nodded, then extended his hand toward his son. “Come on, Mickey. We need to get Uncle Dylan’s luggage. Do you have your mittens?”

“They’re in my pockets.”

Shane looked at Dylan’s short-sleeved shirt. “I don’t suppose you own any winter clothes.”

“It seldom goes below seventy-two in Saint Martin,” he said with a half smile.

“You can probably buy a parka in one of the shops here at the airport. They’ve practically made this place into a shopping mall.”

Dylan gave his brother’s shoulder a playful punch. “You’re dealing with an ex Boy Scout. Remember our motto? Be Prepared.” He grinned. “I have a leather jacket in one of my suitcases.”

“Then we better go.” He looked down at Mickey. “Take my hand so you don’t get lost,” he instructed as they merged into the crush of people heading toward the baggage claim area.

The four-year-old not only grabbed on to his father, but Dylan as well. His tiny hand felt soft against Dylan’s palm. As they walked through the crowded concourse, Dylan thought about how familiar yet how strange he felt walking alongside Shane and Mickey. Looking at his brother, he felt that thirteen years hadn’t passed, yet all he had to do was look at his nephew to realize how much everything had changed.

Feeling the need to make small talk, Dylan asked, “How have things been going for you?”

“Not bad,” Shane responded.

“How’s Jennifer?”

“She’s good. You’ll see for yourself. She’s at the house with the rest of the women. Maddie’s doing her thing.”

Maddie. There was that name again. Whenever Dylan had spoken to his mother in the past two years, that name had crept into the conversation. Even Garret had mentioned her when he’d called.

He had to ask, “Who’s Maddie? One of the college students living with Mom?”

“She lives with Mom but she’s not in college. You’ve met her…Maddie Lamont. She came and stayed with us one summer. Long hair pulled back in one of those big clips, glasses, real skinny.”

“Are you talking about that scrawny little Madeline from North Dakota? The one who was always dancing even when there wasn’t any music playing?”

“Yeah, only she goes by Maddie now.”

“She showed me how to dance. Want to see?” Mickey dropped both hands and began to wiggle.

“Not now, Mick. We’re in the middle of traffic,” Shane said, grabbing his hand and getting them moving again.

“She was a couple of years younger than I was so she must be what…late twenties?” Dylan tried to remember the summer she’d stayed with them.

Shane shrugged. “Somewhere around there.”

They passed another set of windows and Mickey said, “Oh-oh. It’s snowing again.”

Dylan asked, “You like the snow, Mickey?”

“Yeah, but Daddy’s gonna get crabby because he hates driving when it’s snowin’ out.”

Shane met Dylan’s glance. “The roads are actually in pretty good shape considering the storm that passed through here.”

Feeling as if he’d imposed on his brother, Dylan said, “You didn’t have to come get me. I could have taken a taxi to Mom’s.”

“If Mom had thought you were taking a taxi, she would have changed her plans and come and picked you up herself.”

Again Dylan wondered about those plans, but before he could ask, Mickey announced in an urgent tone, “Daddy, I have to go to the baffroom.”

They had reached the baggage claim area and Shane turned to Dylan. “Why don’t you find your luggage and I’ll meet you back here after I’ve taken him to the men’s room?”

Dylan nodded just as an alarm sounded indicating the bags would soon be tumbling down the conveyor belt. As he watched a steady stream of suitcases go by, his thoughts wandered back to that summer when Madeline Lamont had shown up at the house.

He remembered his mother giving him and his brothers orders that they were to treat her as if she were their sister. Dylan knew it was a warning not to think of her as a possible girlfriend—as if he, a senior in high school, would ever consider dating a freshman.

Once he’d seen what she looked like, he knew there was little chance of his being tempted to regard her as anything but a friend of the family’s. Shane was right. She’d been as thin as a post and about as shapeless. She’d looked to be all arms and legs as she twirled and spun her way through the house.

As he hoisted his luggage from the carousel, he remembered something else about her, too. She was smart. She could beat Garret at chess—something neither he nor Shane had been able to accomplish. And when his mother had trouble doing the crossword puzzle in the Sunday paper, Madeline was the one she’d ask for help.

Skinny, smart, shy Madeline.

She’d never been particularly friendly toward him. Actually, when he thought about it, she’d treated him with a disdain he hadn’t understood. Not that it had mattered at the time. She was closer to Garret’s age than she was to his and those two had gotten along just fine.

“Got everything?” Shane interrupted his musings.

“Yeah. Just let me get my jacket out of my suitcase.” When he had the dark brown leather jacket zipped up, he said, “Let’s go.”

On the way to his mother’s house, Shane talked to Dylan as if he were a visitor, telling him about the local professional sports teams’ successes and pointing out changes to the Twin Cities skyline. Listening to him made Dylan realize just how little attention he’d given to what had been happening to his family while he’d been in Saint Martin. It wasn’t that he hadn’t cared, because he had. But work had always taken precedence over everything else in his life, including his personal relationships.

Not wanting to be treated like a stranger, he said, “Shane, I can read about the basketball team in the paper. Tell me what’s been happening with Mom and the rest of the family.”

“What do you want to know?”

He shrugged. “The usual stuff. What’s this new job Mom has? She said something about writing a column for the paper?”

“Yeah, she really likes it.”

“What kind of column is it? Helpful household hints?”

“She hasn’t told you what she writes?” he asked with a frown.

“Is it a secret or something?”

He shrugged. “No, but since it’s her work, she should probably be the one to tell you about it.”

His comment only intensified the feeling Dylan had that he wasn’t a family member returning home, but rather a guest coming to visit. Determined not to be put off by his brother’s attitude, he asked, “What about her renting out rooms to college students? Has that been working out all right?”

“Sure, it’s been good for Mom. Are you worried about having to stay in a house full of women?”

Dylan chuckled and, before he could respond, his brother added, “Now that was a dumb question, wasn’t it? Since when have you ever objected to being around women?”

“I love being around them. Living with them is another thing,” he said with a sly grin.

“You still living alone?”

“Yup. I like having my place to myself.”

“Well, you’re not going to have much space to yourself at Mom’s.”

“I thought she remodeled the house and the tenants live upstairs?”

“They do. When she got rid of Dad’s office, she had the workers put in a separate entrance for the upper floors.”

“I didn’t realize she got rid of Dad’s office.”

“There wasn’t much point in keeping an office at the front of the house when the business had been moved. I work out of the office towers over on Lexington.”

“Then you didn’t have any problems taking over for Dad?”

He didn’t answer, but cast a curious glance his way. “What’s with all the questions? You’ve never expressed an interest in any of this in the past.”

“Just because I haven’t lived here doesn’t mean I haven’t been interested.” He knew that before they arrived at his mother’s house, there was something he needed to say. “Look, Shane. Now is probably as good a time as any for this.”

“For what?” His brother didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“I know that we’ve had our differences and that the last time I was home, things were said that neither one of us probably would have mentioned had the circumstances been different,” he began, trying to find the words that wouldn’t put his brother on the defensive. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t want our family to be one of those kept apart by hard feelings.”

Shane cast a sideways glance at him. “Is that an apology?”

“Yes, it is. I’m sorry about what happened the last time I was home. I know your relationship with Dad was different than mine was.”

“Maybe we should just leave it at that,” Shane said, then motioned with his thumb toward the back seat. “Little pitchers have big ears, if you know what I mean.”

Dylan glanced at Mickey and then back to Shane. “Point taken.”

“Dylan, we can’t change the past.”

“No, but we don’t have to repeat it, either.”

“I agree.”

There was a short silence, which Dylan broke by saying, “You know, it really was good to see you standing there at the airport. It made me think of when we were kids and all the fun we had. I’d like to think there can be more good times for us.”

“I know it would make Mom happy.”

“There’s Grandma’s house!” Mickey’s tiny voice squealed with delight, as Shane pulled up in front of the big blue Victorian house Dylan had called home for eighteen years.

His mother may have remodeled the inside, but not much of the exterior had changed. It looked as familiar to Dylan as the day he’d left. The only thing missing was the small sign with the words Frank Donovan, C.P.A., written across it in bold letters. It had been on the newel post for as long as he could remember, a small lamp lighting it in the darkness. Now the only light came from the recessed fixture above the door where the number fourteen was painted on a tin frieze.

As soon as Dylan stepped inside the house, he saw the results of his mother’s remodeling project. Gone were the accounting offices where his father had spent his days working. One room had been converted to a library, the other a dining room. Dylan hung his jacket on a coat tree, aware of two things: the aroma of freshly baked bread and the sound of Middle Eastern music.

Mickey noticed the latter, too, saying, “Hurry up, Daddy. The music’s on.” He tugged at the snaps on his jacket while his father untied his boots.

“Are those bells I’m hearing?” Dylan asked as he wandered down the hallway. He found his answer when he stepped around the corner. Gathered in the middle of his mother’s living room, waving their arms and swishing their hips were at least a half dozen women dressed in what could only be described as harem apparel.

“Remember, you’re drawing a circle with your hips, keeping your movement fluid.” A melodious voice directed the women. “Shift your weight from side to side, then back and forth.”

“Move, Uncle Dylan,” Mickey pleaded, pushing on his legs to get him to step out of the doorway. “I want to belly dance.”

Activity ceased as six pair of eyes turned toward Dylan.

“Oh my gosh, you’re home. I didn’t hear you come in!” one of the dancers exclaimed as she rushed toward him.

He stared in surprise at the woman wearing red harem pants and a matching blouse with poufy sleeves—or maybe he should have called it a half blouse since it didn’t cover very much midriff. She looked nothing like the woman he remembered. No brown hair peppered with gray, no glasses, no apron covering her matronly skirt and blouse. Nothing about her was familiar except her voice, and it told him in no uncertain terms what he found difficult to believe. This was his mother.

CHAPTER TWO

Dear Leonie: The nicest guy just moved into the boardinghouse where I live. I’d like to let him know I’m interested, but there’s one small problem. He’s my landlady’s son and I’m not sure she’d appreciate me making a move on him. What should I do?

Signed: Don’t want to be out on the street

Leonie says: How nice is your apartment? Are you willing to sacrifice it for something that might never develop into anything special? On the other hand, there are lots of nice apartments. Can you say the same about men?

DYLAN’S MOTHER WRAPPED her arms around him and gave him a hug. “It’s so good to see you! Welcome home.” She pushed him back a little and said, “How’s your shoulder. I didn’t hurt it grabbing you like that, did I?”

“No, it’s fine. I—” he stammered, at a loss for words. Her dance costume was unlike anything she’d ever worn. He couldn’t remember ever seeing his mother’s midriff before. Even when she’d gone swimming she’d worn a one-piece. Nor had she ever been a blonde or had her fingernails painted bright red. She looked nothing at all like the mother he remembered.

“You’re not wearing your glasses,” he finally said.

“I don’t need them anymore. I had laser surgery.” She stepped aside and said, “Hey everybody, if you haven’t figured it out, this is my son Dylan.” Then she pointed to each of the women in the room in turn. “This is Krystal. She lives upstairs so you’ll be seeing more of her, and this is Valerie, a friend of Krystal’s, Jennifer you already know since she’s married to your brother, and you remember my friend Jan, don’t you?”

Dylan acknowledged the introductions with a nod and a few polite words.

“And this is Maddie Lamont, our instructor,” his mother said when she’d reached the last of the belly dancers. “I know you remember her. She stayed with us one summer and practically became part of the family.”

Dylan’s eyes met those of Madeline Lamont and he had his second shock of the night. She was nothing like the scrawny kid who’d looked as if she’d wanted to bolt every time he tried to talk to her.

Quite the contrary. She was boldly looking him over with eyes full of the same surprise that was in his. He didn’t remember them being such a bright blue, but then they’d always been hidden by glasses. When she smiled, he saw perfectly straight teeth instead of a mouth full of metal. Her long dark hair fell in soft, shiny waves down to her shoulders instead of being pulled back in a clip. And she’d gained weight. In all the right places.

Like the others, she wore harem pants, but instead of red they were a turquoise-blue and had a slit down the side of each leg. Around her hips was a scarf from which rows of coins dangled provocatively and on her fingers were tiny cymbals—the source of the tinkling sound he’d heard when he’d first entered the house.

“Hi Dylan. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” she said in a voice that made him think of moonlit nights on the beach with the sound of the surf in the background.

“Yes, it has,” he answered, trying not to gawk at her like some bar patron ogling an exotic dancer, but that’s exactly what he thought of when he looked at her. Instead of having a top with long sleeves, she wore a bikini bra, trimmed with sequins and beads and revealing a generous amount of cleavage.

“We’ve both changed a bit, haven’t we?” she said, amused by his reaction to the changes thirteen years had produced.

“Just a bit,” he agreed, still having a hard time believing that the skinny little kid who’d done cartwheels on the front lawn had matured into this beautiful woman.

“Can we dance?” Mickey asked impatiently, drawing Maddie’s attention away from Dylan.

“Maybe we should stop for tonight,” she suggested to Leonie.

“No, it’s okay. You girls go ahead and finish. I’ll take Dylan into the kitchen and make him something to eat,” Leonie insisted. She linked an arm through Dylan’s and motioned for Shane to join them.

“Smells good in here,” Dylan said as he stepped into a kitchen that didn’t look much different than it had the last time he’d visited. “You must have been baking.”

She chuckled. “Not me. Maddie. She’s the cook around here. She loves to make bread from scratch.”

It was hard for Dylan to imagine the woman with the jewel in her navel and cymbals on her fingers as whipping up anything in the kitchen. She didn’t exactly look like the domestic type.

Leonie put her hands on Dylan’s arms and give him a thorough perusal. “Let me look at you.”

“He’s got all his limbs, Mom. I already checked,” Shane quipped, grabbing a can of soda from the refrigerator. “Dylan, you want something stronger? Mom’s got beer in here.”

“No, but a cup of coffee would taste good.”

“I’ll get you a cup. You sit.” She pushed him toward a chair at the table. “I have some cold chicken I can put in the microwave. How does that sound?”

“It sounds great, but I’m not hungry. Why don’t you sit down so we can talk?”

“All right, but let me change first.” She gestured to the costume. “I wouldn’t want to spill anything on this fabric. It needs to be dry-cleaned. I’ll be right back.” With a wave she was gone, leaving him alone with his brother.

“Surprised by all the changes?” Shane asked, hooking a chair with his foot and sitting down across from Dylan.

“You could have warned me about that.” Dylan gestured with his thumb toward the living room. He didn’t intend for his tone to have an edge, but he was tired and it had been a shock to see his mother belly dancing.

Shane popped the top on his soda and took a drink. “I shouldn’t have had to warn you. If you called home, you’d know what’s been going on here.”

So much for the truce they’d declared in the car, Dylan thought, wondering if he and Shane would ever be able to sit down and talk without the past coming between them. He chose to ignore his brother’s comment. He wrapped his fingers around the cup in front of him, appreciating its warmth. He’d been cold ever since he’d left the airport and it felt good to be in the kitchen drinking hot coffee.

Shane broke the silence with an attempt at an apology. “Forget I made that crack. I was out of line.”

“It’s forgotten,” Dylan told him, although they both knew it wasn’t. He didn’t expect that years of tension between him and his brother would fade away with a few sentences. It would take time to rebuild their relationship, but time was something Dylan had.

“I meant what I said earlier, Shane. I have missed you. And this evening, coming home with you and Mickey in the car, listening to him talk…well, it’s made me realize I’ve missed a lot of other stuff, too.”

Shane grinned proudly. “Mick’s quite a kid, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is. Smart little thing. Must take after his mother,” Dylan teased.

“Who takes after his mother?” Leonie asked on her return. She’d changed into a pair of jeans and a red sweatshirt. Dylan again was surprised at how young she looked.

“Your grandson,” Shane answered.

“I think he has the best of both of his parents,” she said with an affectionate pat on Shane’s shoulder. Then she looked at Dylan. “Are you sure you’re not hungry? How about a nice turkey sandwich?”

“See? She hasn’t changed as much as you thought. She’s still the same old mom,” Shane told Dylan with a sly grin. “Always trying to feed somebody.”

“I’m supposed to. It’s in a mother’s job description,” she insisted, arranging cookies on a plate.

“Belly dancing isn’t,” Dylan said. “What’s up with that?” he asked, nodding toward the other room.

“Maddie suggested she teach us because it’s such great exercise.” She set the plate on the table in front of Dylan. “It’s low impact and it releases tension. And the best part is, it’s fun.”

“Then you’re only doing it to have fun?” Dylan asked.

“You don’t think anyone would pay to see us, do you?” she asked with a laugh, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Then why the fancy costumes?” Dylan wanted to know.

“Maddie suggested we get them—to make it more fun. At first I was a bit shy about wearing something so exotic looking, but then I figured what the heck, why not try it? So I did and I liked it.”

“Mom’s tried a lot of new things lately,” Shane pointed out.

“I’ve noticed,” Dylan stared at her hair. “So tell me. Do blondes have more fun?”

She fluffed her curls with her fingers. “As a matter of fact, I think they do. I probably should have done this years ago.”

“I liked you as a brunette,” Dylan told her.

“I did, too, but I wasn’t exactly a brunette anymore. Salt-and-pepper gray would be more accurate. People have told me I took ten years younger because of the highlighting.”

“Is that what you want? To look forty-two?” he asked.

“Thirty-two would be even better, but I’ll settle for forty-something,” she said with an impish grin. He must have frowned because her smile slid away. “You’re looking at me as if you don’t approve.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t approve; it was just that she didn’t look like his mother. She looked…well, young, for one thing. And so very different from the last time he’d seen her. Before he could say anything, Shane spoke up.

“I think you look great, Mom. And I won’t be offended if anyone asks if you’re my sister.” He gave her an affectionate wink.

She flapped her hand at him. “As if they would. It was a change I needed and it’s been a good one for me.” To Dylan she said, “You probably haven’t noticed, but I’ve lost weight since the last time you were here, too.”

“I noticed.”

As she sat down at the table she said, “Maddie’s the one who helped me shed the pounds.”

“Maddie knows about dieting, too, does she?” Dylan asked with a lift of one eyebrow.

“It’s not really about dieting, Dylan. It’s more about living a healthy lifestyle,” his mother corrected him.

“And I suppose that Maddie knows all about that, too.”

She frowned. “Dylan, why that tone of voice? There’s no reason for you to be sarcastic regarding Maddie.”

“I’m not trying to be sarcastic, just asking questions,” he insisted, although he knew he was sounding churlish. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Ah, don’t mind me. I’m just tired. Maybe I should take my bags and go to bed. You want me to take the spare bedroom on this floor?”

“I’m going to put you in Jason’s room. The spare bedroom is now my office.”

“If you needed a office, why didn’t you just use Dad’s?”

“Because she didn’t want to use his,” Shane said, coming to his mother’s defense. “Mom has a right to remodel the house if she wants.”

“I’m not criticizing her for making changes to the house,” Dylan snapped at his brother.

“It sure sounds as if you were.”

Leonie held up a hand. “You two stop. There’s no need to raise your voices.”

Dylan could see by the set of his brother’s jaw that he wanted to continue their discussion, but the look on his mother’s face kept him silent.

Then she turned to Dylan. “You won’t be uncomfortable in Jason’s room, will you?”

“No, not at all,” he assured her. “I guess I didn’t realize that you needed an office. I forgot that you were doing your column for the paper.”

“Yes, I am.” She cast a rather furtive glance at Shane, who apparently found it necessary to come to her defense once more.

“Mom’s not just writing a column. She has her own business,” he said.

“Business? What kind of business?”

Again her eyes darted to Shane, as if she were nervous and needing his reassurance. “You’re going to be surprised when I tell you.”

“Come on. I’ve just seen you belly dancing. You think I’m going to be shocked at you owning a business?” he asked dryly.

After one more glance at Shane, she said, “I’m a romance coach.”

Dylan nearly choked on his coffee. “A what?”

“A romance coach,” she repeated. “The column I write for the paper is an advice column on romance.”

“You mean people write to you about their problems with their love life?” Dylan thought his voice must have gone up an octave.

She nodded. “And I also teach classes on making relationships last.”

“Don’t forget about the one-on-one consulting,” Shane added.

Seeing his mother belly dancing was nothing compared to the astonishment Dylan felt at hearing this. “But…” he began, then stopped himself. His instinct had been to blurt out, “How can you give advice on romance after what happened in your own marriage?”

He knew, however, that he could never say those words to her, because she didn’t know her husband had been unfaithful to her. Only Dylan had known. And it was a secret he would continue to keep even now, because to reveal it would mean shattering an illusion his mother still treasured—that his father had loved only her.

“How did all this come about?” he asked, trying not to sound disapproving.

“You know I’ve been renting out the rooms to the college girls since your father died?” When he nodded, she continued on, “Well, they would always come downstairs to eat and I’d listen to their problems. They’d ask my opinion on things and I’d give it. The next thing I knew, they were bringing their friends over and asking my advice about love. Questions such as, how did I manage to stay married for thirty years, how did I know when I was in love…those kinds of things.”

It was something he could see his mother doing. She’d always been a good listener and her kitchen had often been the gathering place for the neighborhood moms. How many times as a child had he heard the phrase, “You should ask Leonie.” Was it any wonder she was still answering questions? Only now they weren’t about getting out grass stains but mending broken hearts.

“So you went to the newspaper and suggested you write a column answering people’s questions about love?” he asked, still trying to figure out how it had all come about.

“Not without any training I didn’t.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Maddie suggested I take a writing class. She helped me put together a sample of what the column would be like and then, bless her heart, she took it to a friend of hers at the newspaper.”

The ubiquitous Maddie. Dylan should have known she’d be behind this. “How did that lead to you having your own business?”

“Maddie suggested I branch out, you know, cover all the bases when it came to romance and relationships. So I began offering workshops and the next thing I knew, I was printing up business cards with the title ‘romance coach’ after my name.”

Again Maddie. Dylan took a deep breath to keep from making another sarcastic comment about the woman. Was there any aspect of his mother’s life in which she hadn’t interfered? Only it didn’t sound as if his mother saw it as interference.

“I never realized that running a business could be so exciting!”

From the glow on her cheeks, Dylan could see that it was a fulfilling career for her. He was about to tell her he was happy for her, but her next words kept him silent.

“What’s really special about this job is that it makes me feel close to your father. Whenever I have to answer a question about love and romance, I think of him and the love we shared.”

The love we shared. Dylan knew she’d been happy with his father. That had never been something he’d questioned. What he didn’t know was if that love had been based on a lie. Would his mother’s feelings for his father be the same if she knew he’d cheated on her? Was she basing her career on a lie?

They were questions he knew he could never ask. He sighed, and his mother mistook the sound for fatigue.

She reached across the table and patted his hand. “You’ve had a long day. We’ll have lots of time to talk once you catch up on your sleep.”

Dylan gently rotated his neck. “Bed is going to feel good. I must have slept wrong on the plane because I’ve got a kink in my neck.”

“You should ask Maddie to give you a massage,” his mother suggested. “She’s got the right touch when it comes to soothing aching muscles.”

“Tell me, Mom, is there anything that Maddie doesn’t know?” he asked.

“I don’t know anything about living on a Caribbean island,” she said, entering the room. She gave him a flirtatious grin. “Maybe you could fill me in.” Then she placed a hand on Leonie’s shoulder and said, “We’re stopping for tonight. Do you want to come say goodbye?”

Leonie scraped back her chair. “I do. Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem,” she said as left the room, the coins on her costume making a tinkling sound with every step she took.

Shane rose, too. “That means Jennifer and Mickey will be wanting to go.” He turned to Dylan. “You need any help with your luggage?”

Dylan shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”

His mother asked, “Are you going to bed then?”

“No, I’ll wait for you,” he said, knowing that he needed to talk to his mother alone. His reunion with her hadn’t gone as he’d hoped, and he needed to smooth things over.

Only it wasn’t his mother who returned a few minutes later, but Maddie. She looked startled to see him, and he suspected that if she could have left without saying a word, she would have.

“Looking for something?” he asked.

“Just getting some water,” she told him, pulling a bottle from the refrigerator.

“Belly dancing makes you thirsty, does it?” He didn’t know why the words came out on a note of sarcasm. She’d neither said nor done anything to warrant it.

“If that’s the tone you used with your mother I can see why she’s upset,” she told him, then unscrewed the cap and took a long drink.

He let his eyes travel over her figure and felt something stir deep inside him. Now he knew the reason for the sarcasm. It was a self-defense mechanism. He was attracted to her and he didn’t want to be.

“Mom’s not upset.” He spoke the words with confidence, although he knew his reunion with his mother had had its share of tension. She’d wanted his approval and, instead of complimenting her on her new look, he’d put her on the defensive, asking questions with a critical eye rather than an understanding one. He wasn’t, however, going to admit that to this woman.

“Now why doesn’t it surprise me that you didn’t notice?” Maddie shoved a fist to her waist, which only caused Dylan’s eyes to focus on her flat stomach and the turquoise jewel in her navel. It was almost the same color as her eyes and seemed to wink at him.

He forced his eyes back to hers. “My relationship with my mother doesn’t concern you, although I’m sure you think it does.”

She stiffened, her chin lifting slightly. “Actually, I don’t, but I happen to care about your mom and I don’t like it when people hurt her.”

“People meaning me?” he asked in disbelief. “I didn’t come home to upset my mom.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’d like to think that we can get along while you’re here.”

Her attitude annoyed him. Who was she to stand there like some champion of the mistreated, looking at him as if it were her duty to protect his mother from him?

He was about to tell her that if they were going to get along, she was going to have to get rid of that attitude. Only his mother chose that moment to return.

“So here’s where you disappeared to,” she said to Maddie. “Are you and Dylan reacquainting yourselves?” She looked from one to the other.

“Yes, I was just telling Dylan how fond I am of you.” She put her arm around his mother and gave her a squeeze. “He’s lucky to have you for a mom.”

“Thank you, Maddie. I do believe I’m quite lucky to have him for a son, too,” she responded, giving Dylan an affectionate glance.

Only he saw the look in Maddie’s eyes. It told him there wasn’t even a slim chance she shared that sentiment.

“Well, I’m off to bed,” Maddie announced, then she turned to Dylan. “Hope the cold doesn’t get to you.” It was said in a cheerful way, but he knew there was a hidden message. She wasn’t going to spread any warmth his way.

“I’m sure I’ll survive. You forget. I lived here eighteen years. This is my home.”

“Yes, it is,” his mother agreed happily.

As Maddie passed him on the way out, she said in a voice meant only for his ears, “And we all know that home is the place that has to take you in.”

MADDIE LAY ON HER BED flipping through the glossy pages of the latest edition of a gourmet food magazine. Not even the lure of scrumptious desserts smothered in chocolate could take her mind off what had happened this evening. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t put Dylan Donovan out of her mind.

She wished she hadn’t confronted him in the kitchen. He was right about one thing: his relationship with his mother wasn’t any of her concern. Still, she’d grown very fond of Leonie and it had seemed natural to come to her defense.

Despite Dylan’s claim that he hadn’t intended to upset his mother, Maddie knew that whatever they’d discussed in the kitchen had taken the sparkle out of Leonie’s eyes. It didn’t take a psychologist to know that the joyful reunion her landlady had hoped to have with her son hadn’t materialized.

Maddie didn’t understand why it hadn’t. As hard as she tried not to be curious about their relationship, she couldn’t help but wonder what had caused Dylan to become the stray sheep of the family.

She supposed it could be his personality. He wasn’t exactly the easiest man to get along with. She resented his implication that she had somehow stuck her nose into business that didn’t concern her—as if being a friend to Leonie was a devious plan on her part. If Leonie hadn’t come into the kitchen when she had, Maddie might just have set him straight on the subject.

A knock on her door had her looking up with apprehension. Maybe he regretted his mother’s appearance, too, and wanted to continue with his warning.

Then she heard a woman’s voice. “Maddie, it’s Krystal. Can I come in?”

Maddie threw her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. “Sure. It’s open.”

“I saw your light beneath the door and figured you were up,” her housemate said as she padded into the room in her robe and slippers. “I just had to come in and see what you thought about Dylan. Is he gorgeous or what?”

That was something she hadn’t wanted to think about—Dylan’s looks. He was every bit as good-looking now as he had been all those years ago and, to her dismay, when he’d walked into the living room, her body had behaved as it had all those years ago when she’d practically melted whenever he’d pass by.

“He’s all right,” she said, trying to sound disinterested.

“All right? Maddie, are you blind? That sun-streaked hair and that golden tan and those muscles.” She sighed dreamily. “Leonie said he worked with concrete. No kidding. He must lift a ton of blocks to get that kind of a bod.”

“I’m going to have to get you a bib if you keep talking that way,” Maddie said dryly.

Krystal playfully punched Maddie’s shoulder. “Come on. Admit it. You think he’s cute.”

Maddie didn’t see much point in denying the obvious. “Yeah, he’s attractive.”

“But is he smart? Does he have a nice personality?” Krystal wanted to know. “You talked to him, didn’t you?”

“We only talked for a few minutes in the kitchen,” she said, not wanting to say what she really thought about the man. Krystal was single and so was Dylan. As Leonie often said, romance could happen when you least expected it and what Maddie didn’t need was to say something negative about Dylan and have it end up coming back to haunt her later. “But he can’t be dumb if he’s an engineer,” she pointed out.

“That’s what I figured, too. I was hoping I’d run into him when I went downstairs to use the shower tonight, but he’d already gone to bed.”

Which was exactly what Maddie wanted to hear. She’d avoided going downstairs to the bathroom for that very reason. She didn’t want to risk bumping into him again this evening. One unpleasant confrontation was enough.

“It’ll be nice when we don’t have to use the shower downstairs,” she remarked. “Having only a half bath on this floor could result in things getting a bit awkward.”

“Or interesting,” Krystal said with a wiggle of her brows. “I wish I’d listened more closely all those times Leonie talked about him. I thought he’d look like Shane or Garret.” She held up her hands. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t think they’re cute, ’cause I do. It’s just that Dylan is so…” Her eyes got all dreamy as she searched for the right word.

Maddie could have supplied it. Hot. There was no denying it. The man had it, whatever it was. Not that she cared. She wasn’t fourteen anymore and she didn’t respond to it.

“He hasn’t been married, has he?” Krystal asked.

“Not that I know of.”

“I can’t believe he doesn’t have someone waiting for him back in Saint Martin,” Krystal said, sighing heavily. “Leonie says he doesn’t, but look at him. Good-looking guys like that are rarely unattached.”

“Just because he hasn’t told his mother doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a girlfriend,” Maddie pointed out. “But does it matter? I thought your heart belonged to the bodybuilder over at the gym.”

“T.K.? I’m thinking it may be time to move on.”

Maddie wondered if she was planning to move on with Dylan. Before she could ask, Krystal said, “I suppose it could get sticky, though, if I messed around with Dylan. I mean, Leonie’s a dear, and I wouldn’t want to create problems…you know what I mean?”

“I think you’re right on with that one,” Maddie agreed. “Mothers can get funny over their sons.”

Krystal nodded her head in agreement. “I once dated this guy who had a really neat mom. She treated me just like a daughter until she found out we’d been talking about marriage. Then she went ballistic. Started cussing at me and telling me I wasn’t good enough for her little boy.”

“I don’t think Leonie would be like that.”

Krystal thought for a moment, then said, “No, you’re probably right, but I still wouldn’t want to screw up a great housing arrangement.” She sighed. “At least Dylan will make good eye candy for these cold, gray days of winter.”

As much as Maddie wanted to deny it, she knew her housemate was right. Only she wasn’t going out of her way for any visual treats. She’d do her best to avoid him, even if it meant disappointing Leonie by being absent in the kitchen. She was determined that when she shared a house with Dylan, this time she was not going to become infatuated with him.

Once in a lifetime was enough for her. Besides, she already had one man in her life. Jeffrey, who was a dear friend. That’s all she wanted in a relationship right now. It was all she could handle. She needed to figure out what she was going to do with the rest of her life before she could look at men as anything other than friends.

Unfortunately as she drifted off to sleep, it wasn’t Jeffrey’s face in her thoughts. It was the man she wanted to forget—Dylan.

CHAPTER THREE

Dear Leonie: It’s been fourteen years since I had my first crush on a guy. Now I’m twenty-eight and he’s back in my life and all those old feelings have come rushing back. I don’t want to feel anything for him. What should I do?

Signed: Wanting to forget the past

Leonie says: You’re only attracted to him because he rekindles those adolescent feelings of first love. My bet is once you spend a little time with him you’ll realize that’s all it was—puppy love.

THERE WAS ONLY a two-hour time difference between Minnesota and Saint Martin, yet Dylan awoke feeling as if he had jet lag. Maybe it was because he’d had a restless night. Strange beds often did that to him.

Or it could have been his guilty conscience that had caused him to toss and turn last night. He should have apologized to his mother before saying good-night to her, but his confrontation with Maddie had left him in a sour mood and, instead of focusing on the matter of most importance—his mother—he’d been preoccupied with thoughts of the belly-dance teacher.

But that was last night and today would be different he vowed as he showered and shaved. When he walked into the kitchen his mother was alone at the table, reading the paper.

At the sight of him she smiled. “You look much better this morning. See what a good night’s sleep will do for you?”

He chuckled to himself. If she only knew.

“Smells good in here. Like oranges.” Before she could speak he held up his hands. “Don’t tell me. Maddie made orange bread before she went to work this morning.”

She clicked her tongue in admonition. “No, she did not. I just ate an orange. The peeling is still on the counter.” She nodded toward the cabinets.

“Sorry.” He gave her apologetic smile. “Mom, about last night…” he began. “There’s something I think you should know.”

“If it’s about you and Maddie having words, Dylan, I already know about it. She told me this morning.”

So Maddie had already talked to his mother about their confrontation. Dylan could see she was going to be a more formidable opponent than he’d expected.

“Well, I can see one thing hasn’t changed. She’s just as annoying now as she was at fourteen,” he remarked.

That had his mother gasping. “She most certainly is not annoying!”

He held up his hands in surrender. “All right. She’s not.”

“She’s a dear and if you must know, I’m surprised by your behavior toward her last night,” his mother chastised him.

“My behavior toward her?” He should have known she’d come to Maddie’s defense, not his. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Mom, it takes two to disagree.”

“And just what was this disagreement about?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

So she hadn’t run to his mother with her version of what had been said. She went up a notch in his estimation, but only a small notch. He still found her irritating.

“It was nothing important, Mom. We just rubbed each other the wrong way, sort of like what happened the summer she stayed with us. Remember how she’d always bristle when I’d talk to her?”

“No, I don’t.” She gave him a blank look. “I only remember her being very sweet and shy and having to put up with the roughness of four boys who at times could be a bit overbearing even for their own mother.”

“Well, there’s only one Donovan boy at home now, so that shouldn’t be a problem. I know you’re very fond of Maddie. I’m sorry about last night and I promise I’m going to do everything I can to not repeat what happened.”

His mother stared at him, her finger on her chin. “You know, that’s nearly the same thing she said to me this morning.”

“Great. Then we’re in agreement on something.” He went over to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of milk.

“I know you had a long day yesterday because the plane was delayed, and you weren’t yourself. Why don’t we just forget about last night and start over?” she said with her usual optimism.

“I’d like that. I know I said some things I shouldn’t have,” he told her as he poured himself a glass of milk. “Not just to Maddie but to you as well. If I upset you, I’m sorry. I was tired and I wasn’t expecting to find so many things had changed around here. I had the weird feeling that this wasn’t home anymore.”

“It hasn’t been your home in a long time, Dylan,” she reminded him gently.

“I know and I had no right to act as if you’d done something wrong by getting on with your life. The house looks great and so do you. I should have said that as soon as I saw you.”

She smiled warmly. “Thank you.” Then she got up to give him a hug. “Have I told you how happy I am that you decided to have the surgery here? As long as I own this house you’ll always be able to call it home.”

“I appreciate that, Mom.”

“Being home will be good for you. You’ll see,” she said with confidence. “I know there have been a lot of changes, but there’s a lot of things that are the same.”

“I can see one thing that hasn’t changed. You still know how to make a kid feel better with words,” he said with an affectionate grin.

She smiled, too. “I’ve had lots of practice. Now, would you like me to make you some breakfast?”

“No, I’m fine. I don’t eat much in the morning,” he answered, then drained the milk from his glass.

“That hasn’t changed, has it? You were always in too much of a hurry to take time for breakfast when you were a kid. I still make a pretty good omelette.” She tried to tempt him.

“I’m sure you do. Maybe another morning? Now tell me why you’re all dressed up,” he ordered with a cocked eyebrow. “You look nice, by the way.”

“Thank you. This is a new outfit. I have several appointments today.”

“Ah, business,” he said in a knowing tone.

She fixed him with a questioning gaze. “Does it bother you that I’m a romance coach?”

He didn’t want to tell her the truth, yet he couldn’t lie to her, either. “I’m not exactly bothered by it, Mom, but I wasn’t expecting to come home and find you so involved with your work.”

“I needed something to fill my days. Dad’s gone, you kids are all gone…” She trailed off. “I like people too much to sit home by myself.”

“I thought maybe you would have gone to work for Shane when he took over the business.”

She wrinkled her face. “I never really liked doing tax forms.”

“Then why did you do it all those years?”

“Because I liked working with your father.” A contented look came into her eyes. “Sometimes even the most tedious tasks don’t seem so bad when they’re shared with the one you love.”

Talk of her love for his father always made him uncomfortable and this time was no different. Ignorance may have been bliss for his mother, but for Dylan, knowledge of his father’s infidelity continued to color his perception of his parents’ marriage.

He didn’t want to think about that, so he said, “Then it’s a good thing you tried something different. It’s obviously been good for you because you seem happy.”

“I am happy, but I still miss him,” she said, a note of sadness in her voice.

He placed an arm around her and gave her a gentle hug. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for you those first few months after he died.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” she said, patting his hand. “I understand why you kept your distance.”

At the time he had thought he had, too, but now he wasn’t so sure. He’d told himself that if he were to spend any time with his mother, there was bound to be more tension between him and Shane. Yet now that he was actually home, he wasn’t sure if there hadn’t been another reason for his absence. Maybe he had stayed away because he hadn’t wanted to share in his mother’s grief, hadn’t wanted to hear her eulogize his father as an ideal husband.

“That’s all in the past,” his mother continued. “You’re home now and I want to enjoy every minute of your stay. Will you be seeing Garret today?”

“I have a doctor’s appointment this morning, but then I’m going to stop by the hospital so we can have lunch.”

“You can take Dad’s car. It’s in the garage. Jason’s been using it when he’s been home, so it’s in good running condition.” She reached for a set of car keys dangling from a hook on the wall and set them down on the table, saying, “I have a favor to ask you.”

“Ask away.”

She pulled several plastic gallon containers from under the sink. “Maddie left this morning without taking these. Would you be a dear and drop them off for me?”

“Drop them off where?”

“Remember Ken’s Market, that small family grocery near the hospital? It’s now community owned.”

“It’s a co-op?”

She nodded, setting the jugs on the table next to the keys. “They sell spring water, but you have to supply your own containers.”

“You want me to fill them and bring them home?”

“Or you can leave them with Maddie and she’ll take care of it.”

“She works at the co-op?”

“Mmm-hmm. In the deli.”

So Maddie was a belly-dancing teacher at night and a deli clerk during the day. Not exactly what he had expected she’d be doing for a living.

“You need me to pick up anything else?” he asked.

“No, that’ll do it.” She placed her fingers on the upper portion of the refrigerator. “There are frozen dinners in here and there are cold cuts, too, if you want to make yourself a sandwich for dinner.”

“Dinner? Aren’t you going to be here?”

She shook her head. “Tonight’s my class at the community center. I would have canceled, but it’s my first one and I thought I’d better not.”

“What class is that?”

“The keys to making love last.”

“They actually offer a class like that through community ed?”

She gave him a look of admonition. “Love is a very important thing in people’s lives. If you look at the statistics, Dylan, you’ll see that most people still believe in marriage.” She gave him a gentle shove so she could get to the door. “I’ll tell you more about it when we have more time. I have all sorts of interesting statistics I can share with you.”

Dylan didn’t want to tell her that he really wasn’t interested in hearing any numbers when it came to love and marriage. Fortunately, the phone rang and he didn’t have to come up with a response.

The call was brief and as soon as she’d hung up, she said, “I have to get going. I have an extra stop to make. Try not to leave the kitchen a mess, will you? We have a rule around here. Everyone cleans up after herself.”

“Mom, I haven’t become a slob since I left home,” he told her.

“I didn’t think you had, but I need to consider my tenants.”

He frowned. “Are you saying they’ll be eating their meals in the kitchen?”

“Krystal won’t be home tonight. She’s going to a convention in Saint Cloud and will be staying overnight, but Maddie should be back after she finishes her classes.”

He wanted to ask his mother about Maddie’s classes, but swallowed his curiosity. He didn’t think she would understand the reason for his inquisitiveness.

He didn’t understand it himself. All he knew was that since he’d seen Maddie in those harem pants with that turquoise jewel winking at him from her navel, he’d had trouble forgetting that she lived upstairs. And now that he knew she ate her meals in the kitchen, his imagination was already working on possible scenarios in which he might see her again.

As he left the house, he made sure he took the plastic jugs.

DYLAN WASN’T QUITE SURE what kind of a reception he’d get from Garret, but he was glad when it turned out to be a warm one. As the young doctor came down the hall toward him, he wore a big grin.

“I can tell you’re a doctor now, Garret. You’re late,” Dylan said with a teasing grin.

The younger man smiled, then gave him a bear hug. “There literally aren’t enough hours in a day in this profession. Welcome home, Dylan. It’s good to see you. How’s the shoulder?”

“Your friend Pete says it’ll be as good as new after he goes in and does his handiwork,” he answered, stepping aside so they were no longer in the center of the corridor. He studied his brother. “You look tired.”

“That’s the way I’m supposed to look. I’m a resident.” He nudged Dylan toward the stairs. “You look like you’ve been leading the good life.”

He spread his hands. “What can I say? I live on an island in the Caribbean. I thought by now you would have come to visit me.”

“Don’t think I wouldn’t have liked to, but I’m short on two things. Time and money. And until I’m finished with my residency, that’s not going to change.”

“I could help you out in the money department,” Dylan offered.

“Thanks, I appreciate the offer, but time is the real villain here. Speaking of which,” he glanced at his watch. “We need to make this lunch a quick one.”

“I guess that means we don’t get to pop across the street for a big thick juicy burger?” he quipped.

Garret smiled apologetically and said, “The hospital cafeteria makes a great tuna hot dish.”

Dylan grimaced, then followed his brother into the dining area. “I guess I should get used to this,” he said as they passed a section of Jell-O and pudding. “It’s going to be my diet while I’m here.”

Garret chuckled. “I hope you’re going to be a better patient than Jason was. You should have heard the moaning and groaning that kid did when he had his appendix out.”

Since Garret had mentioned their youngest brother, Dylan decided to steer the conversation toward family. As they sat down at a small table, he asked, “Is Jason doing all right? I know he was in some trouble last semester with his grades.”

“Mom told you?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s not a secret, is it?”

Garret shrugged. “No. I just didn’t think you knew about it, that’s all,” he said as he removed the items from his tray and set it aside.

“So is Jason doing all right?”

“Yeah. He’s just trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life. There are so many opportunities, so many choices to make. It isn’t easy being nineteen.”

“As we both know,” Dylan agreed, slipping his jacket over the back of the chair before sitting down.

“It’s that emotional tug-of-war every college kid goes through—wanting to be independent, yet liking the security of still being able to be a dependent on the folks. One minute he’s saying, “I can take care of myself. The next he’s calling Mom and moaning about the latest crisis in his life.”

“You mean like when he needs money,” Dylan remarked dryly.

“It’s not just money. Mom handles things pretty well, but it’s too bad Dad isn’t here. Jason could use a good role model,” he said, ripping open the cellophane wrapping on his soda crackers and crumbling them into his soup.

Dylan would have liked to point out that their father wasn’t exactly a good role model, but he didn’t want their reunion to be spoiled by the animosity such a remark would create.

So he let the comment about their father slide and said, “I’ll talk to Jason while I’m here and see what I can do.”

“You don’t need to worry about it. Shane and I are keeping an eye on him.”

“You don’t want me talking to him?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t say that. I just think it might be better if you didn’t try to be an authority figure.”

Dylan frowned. “Why not?”

“He’s belligerent enough the way it is and you two haven’t exactly been close. You left home when he was only six.”

Dylan felt the hairs on his neck raise. He knew he had no reason to be defensive, but that didn’t matter. “It’s not my fault that there are twelve years difference in our ages. I left home at eighteen because it was time for me to leave.”

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t say you abandoned him,” he reminded Dylan. “I just said you weren’t here when he was growing up.”

“He’s still my brother and I care about him.”

“All of us do. And as I said, Shane and I have already had a talk with him about his grades.”

So you don’t need to, was the unspoken message that came through loud and clear. “I still would like to take a drive over to Wisconsin to see him. I’ll have the time once the surgery’s over.”

“Mom would probably appreciate it if you did, but you’d better be prepared to get a lecture from him on how he’s not a kid anymore and he can take care of himself. He doesn’t want anyone checking up on him,” he warned.

“I’m not going to check up on him,” he said with a hint of impatience. “I just want to visit him and see how he’s doing. Any other warnings you want to give me?” Dylan tried to keep his voice light but failed.

“Actually, there is. It’s about Mom.” He set his spoon down and stared at Dylan. “She was really upset by the way things went the last time you were home. The stuff that went on between you and Shane—”

Dylan interrupted him. “I’ve already had this conversation with Shane, and we’ve worked things out, so let it rest, okay?” He was disappointed to sense that Garret seemed to be on Shane’s side.

“Good. I’m glad to hear that. We’re brothers. We should act like it.”

There was a bit of an uncomfortable silence, which was broken by a nurse who stopped by to give Garret a message. When she eyed Dylan curiously, Garret made the introductions.

After a few minutes of small talk, she was gone and Garret said, “I can see you haven’t lost the touch.”

“Touch for what?”

“If you’d patted your knee she would have sat on your lap.” He shook his head. “Man, you have always had a quality that women respond to.”

“She stopped by to talk to you,” Dylan pointed out.

Garret chuckled. “Yeah, and if you believe that, I have some nice oceanfront property in South Dakota I can sell you.” He took a sip of his coffee, then said, “I don’t suppose these northern girls have the same appeal as those sun-kissed, bikini-clad island beauties running around on Saint Martin.”

Dylan smiled. “A beautiful woman is a beautiful woman, no matter what the climate.”

“And you’ve always had an eye for one, haven’t you,” he said with a sly smile. He took a bite of his sandwich, then asked. “How many are there in your life? Still juggling more than one at a time?”

“What makes you think I have any?”

He chuckled. “Come on. I may be five years younger than you, but I did know what was going on when we were kids. By the time I hit junior high your reputation with women was legendary.”

Dylan couldn’t suppress his smile. “All right, so I made the most of my youth and the opportunities that presented themselves.”

“Are you saying you don’t have those opportunities now?”

Dylan shook his head. “If I had kept going at that pace, I’d be dead.”

“So it’s one woman at a time now?”

“It always was. They just came closer together back then,” he said with another grin.

“Come on, be serious. Is there a special woman in your life?”

“Not at the moment.”

“I thought Mom said there was someone named Andrea.”

“Was is the correct word. That didn’t work out,” Dylan said, not wanting to tell him the details of a relationship he had already put in the past.

“What about you? Last time I was home you seemed pretty serious about another med student. A Sarah with auburn hair, nice legs.”

He shook his head. “It didn’t work out, which is probably good because I really don’t have time for anything but medicine right now.”

“Then Mom hasn’t tried to find you the perfect mate?”

“She’s not a matchmaker, Dylan. She only responds to those who seek her advice. Mom would never try to interfere in our love lives. She’s not like that.”

“I’m glad to hear that. The last thing I need is to have Mom trying to fix me up with someone. It’s going to be difficult enough staying in a house full of women. I’m used to living alone.”

Garret shook his head. “It’s hard to think of you living alone. I mean, I guess I just assumed you lived with some woman but didn’t tell us.”

Dylan chuckled. “I’ve had a few try to move their things into my closet, but they haven’t made it past the front door.”

“At least with the remodeling Mom’s done, Maddie and Krystal shouldn’t get in your way. What do you think of what she’s done to the house?”

“It was a bit of a shock at first, but I think it looks good.”

He nodded in agreement. “It was a good project for her. Shane offered to deal with the contractors, but she insisted on doing it all herself. And she did just fine, although I think Maddie helped her.”

Mention of the other woman gave Dylan the opportunity to ask the questions he hadn’t wanted to ask his mother. “How did Madeline Lamont end up renting from Mom? I thought she only took in college students.”

“Maddie was Mom’s first boarder. She came here shortly after Dad died. She was with some theater production that came to the Twin Cities.”

“She’s an actress?”

“A dancer.”

“Is that what she does for a living?”

“She’s not performing anymore, just teaching.”

Again the image of Maddie dressed in the harem pants flashed in Dylan’s memory. “There’s a big demand for belly dancing in the Twin Cities?”

“Not belly dancing. Ballet,” he corrected. “The belly dancing is something she does on the side. Mainly she teaches kids ballet and tap at a studio just a few blocks from here.”

“Mom said something about her working at a food co-op, too,” he went on. “Is she one of those health food nuts who won’t eat anything that isn’t organically grown?”

“Just because she’s conscious about her health doesn’t make her a nut. And why all the questions about her anyway?” He paused with his fork in midair. “You’re not thinking that she might be a pleasant distraction while you’re here, are you?”

He clicked his tongue. “If she’s a distraction it won’t be the pleasant kind.”

“Why not? She’s hot and she’s smart. What more could a man want? And she can still beat me at chess.”

Dylan agreed with his brother about her being hot but kept his opinion to himself. “She may be your type, but she’s definitely not mine,” he told Garret, wanting to dispel any notion Garret had that he was interested in the woman.

“I’m glad to hear that, because she’s taken.” There was no mistaking the warning in his brother’s voice.

“By you?” Dylan asked with a sly smile.

“No, but she does date a very good friend of mine.”

“Well, your friend has nothing to worry about from me. Even if I were looking for a woman—which I’m not—I wouldn’t be looking in Madeline’s direction. If anything, I’ll be doing my best to avoid her as much as possible.”

He stared at him in amazement. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone say that about Maddie. It might be a good idea if you didn’t share your opinion of her with Mom. She regards Maddie as the daughter she never had.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

“You sound as if you disapprove.”

“I’m just worried about Mom, that’s all. I’d hate to see her be taken advantage of by anyone.”

Garret laughed. “You don’t need to worry about that with Maddie.”

“You sound awfully confident.”

“That’s because I am.” He’d already finished his lunch and shoved aside his plate, resting on his elbows as he asked, “Have you met Krystal?”

Dylan shrugged. “Other than a brief introduction, we haven’t talked,” he answered honestly. “Why?”

Just then Garret pushed his lab coat aside to reach for the beeper on his waist. “I’m being paged. I have to go.” He quickly drained the remains of his coffee and was about to load his dishes back on the tray when Dylan stopped him.

“I’ll get them. You go attend to your emergency.”

Garret smiled. “Thanks.” Before he left he said, “I’ll try to stop by the house tonight, but if I don’t, I’ll see you in the morning before you go into surgery.”

Dylan nodded.

As he walked out of the cafeteria, he called over his shoulder, “Don’t worry about a thing. Pete’s the best.”

Dylan hadn’t been thinking about his upcoming surgery. He was thinking about Maddie.

As he climbed into his father’s car, he noticed the plastic water jugs in the back seat of the car. He didn’t have to give them to Maddie. He could fill the jugs himself and leave without even seeing her.

There were only two problems. One was that he didn’t want to stand in line to fill water jugs. The second was, he wanted to see her.

MADDIE NOTICED Dylan the minute he entered the store. He wore khaki slacks and a dark brown leather aviator jacket. Despite the below-zero windchill, his head was bare, his sun-streaked hair in disarray from the wind. Just as it had last night, when she first saw him, her heart skipped a beat.

“I’d like half a pound of baby Swiss cheese,” a customer said, drawing her attention back to the deli case in front of her.

Maddie lifted the cheese from the refrigerated case and slid the block onto the slicer, aware that Dylan was headed in her direction. Before she had finished the woman’s order, he was at the deli counter.

She could feel his eyes on her as she worked. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep from sneaking a peek at him. He looked like a surfer who’d taken the wrong flight and ended up in the land of snow and ice instead of sunshine and beaches.

When her customer left, she had no choice but to give her attention to him. “What can I do for you?” she asked, trying to keep her voice level, which wasn’t easy considering the way her breath wanted to catch in her throat.

“Mom asked me to drop these off.” He held up the plastic jugs. “Said you’d know what to do with them.”

When she took them from him, their fingers touched. His were cold, hers warm, which she figured accounted for the tiny shiver she felt. “Thanks.”

“Mom never bought water when we were growing up,” he commented. “We drank it straight from the tap.”

“No one realized the problems with lead pipes back then,” she responded, setting the jugs on the floor behind her.

“So this is where you work,” he said, giving a cursory glance around the store.

She spread her arms. “This is it.”

“The store’s changed quite a bit since I was a kid.” She didn’t comment, but waited for him to speak again. He turned his attention to the food in the refrigerated case. “Why don’t you give me one of those small cartons of coleslaw.”

She reached for a half-pint container and filled it with coleslaw. Her movements were sharp as she slapped a couple of spoonfuls into the cup. She could feel his eyes on her and she hurried so he could take his purchase and leave.

As she set the carton on the counter, she asked, “Anything else?”

“Yes. I’d like to start over.” His eyes were a warm brown and the message in them made her uncomfortable.

It said, “I’m a man and you’re an attractive woman.” She didn’t want to see that kind of look in his eyes. He was her landlady’s son and that was how she planned to regard him. “You don’t want the coleslaw?” she asked, deliberately misunderstanding him.

“I’m not talking about the coleslaw. I’m talking about last night. There’s no point in pretending it didn’t happen, Maddie. If we’re going to live under the same roof for the next month or so, don’t you think it would be a good idea if we made a fresh start?” The words were delivered with the ease of a man who was no stranger to negotiation and compromise.

She knew that to do anything but agree would be ill-mannered. “All right. I’m willing to forget about last night.”

“What about fourteen years ago? Can you forget about that, too?”

She frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You didn’t like me very much back then, either.” He didn’t look offended by the statement, but rather amused.

She folded her arms across her chest. “That’s not the best way to make a new beginning—by bringing up the past.” She didn’t see any need to correct him regarding the feelings she’d had for him as a fourteen-year-old.

“We’re not exactly strangers, Maddie.”

She didn’t need him to tell her that. The minute she’d seen him last night, memories of that summer had come flooding back. She knew more about Dylan Donovan than she cared to admit.

“How do you suggest we make a new beginning?” he asked. Again there was that interest in his eye that had the nerves in Maddie’s body rising to alarm status.

“Maybe we say we both misunderstood each other last night and just start over,” she suggested.

He stared at her, those penetrating brown eyes making her want to squirm. She didn’t. She stood her ground, arms folded, chin up, meeting his eyes squarely. She was twenty-eight, not fourteen. She didn’t need to run and hide from any man.

“I can do that,” he told her with a grin that made her stomach do a funny little flutter.

“Good. Then we start over,” she stated evenly.

“We start over,” he repeated.

She wondered if that meant he’d finally pick up the coleslaw and leave, but he didn’t. He said, “I know we agree on one thing.”

“And that would be—?”

“We want my mom to be happy, right?”

“Right,” she agreed.

“You must know I didn’t come home to upset her,” he said with a questioning look in his eyes.

“And I haven’t lived with her the past year and a half so that I could take advantage of her.” The look in her eyes dared him to challenge that statement. He didn’t and she added, “That is what you were thinking, isn’t it? You don’t like the fact that your mom and I are close, do you?”

“I didn’t say that,” he denied.

“You don’t have to.” She took a deep breath to steady her emotions. “Dylan, your mother’s not some helpless, naive widow. She not only runs a boardinghouse, but she runs her own business, too. She’s nobody’s fool.”

To her surprise, he said, “I do believe you’re right.”

“I am.”

He grinned then and Maddie’s heart skipped more than one beat.

“You and I managed to live under the same roof without any problems when we were teenagers, Maddie. We should be able to do the same as adults, don’t you think?”

She almost said no. Every instinct in her told her Dylan Donovan could be big trouble for any woman.

“I don’t see why not,” she lied.

As if he knew she wasn’t sincere, he said, “It’s a big house.”

Not big enough.

“And it’s only temporary,” he added. “Who knows? My shoulder may heal faster than expected and I might not even be here this time next month.”

She should be so lucky.

“I’m used to living alone, fending for myself. I don’t need to be entertained,” he continued.

As if she was even interested in trying to entertain him.

“I only say that because, knowing my mom, she may have different ideas.” He smoothed a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s going to be embarrassing if she tries to arrange social activities for me.”

“She hasn’t done it for any of your brothers, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” she assured him. Not that he needed any assistance from anyone in that department. She doubted he had trouble finding female companions.

Noticing a customer approaching, Dylan finally picked up the small container of coleslaw. “I’d better pay for this. I’m glad we cleared the air, Maddie,” he said with a grin that gave her a glimpse of the charm he could exude if he chose.

She didn’t like what that smile did to her insides. She had no doubt that Dylan Donovan, should he choose, could be one irresistible man.

“Me, too,” she said, grateful for the customer waiting for her attention. “It’s good we settled this.”

“Yes, it is.” He extended his hand to her.

Unlike the first time their fingers had touched, his hand was warm. She’d barely placed hers inside his when she pulled it back. She hoped he thought the brevity of their handshake was due to the fact that there was a customer waiting for service. What she didn’t want him to know was that it’d been an instinctive defense mechanism. She didn’t like the pleasant sensation that contact had created.

She wasn’t fourteen and he wasn’t some heartthrob who could make her go weak in the knees. He was nothing at all like the kind of man she wanted to arouse her interest.

If he thought she’d be seeking his company while he was home, he was sadly mistaken. She’d do whatever she could to avoid having to spend any time with Dylan Donovan, even if it meant volunteering for extra hours at the co-op.

“How much is the farmer’s cheese?” A voice interrupted her musings.

Maddie was forced to turn her attention back to the deli case, but not before she took one more glance in the cashier’s direction. She noticed Dylan was smiling at the woman behind the counter. Maddie was certain that the woman smiled back.

CHAPTER FOUR

Dear Leonie: I’m attracted to this guy and I don’t want to be. I’m doing everything I can to avoid running into him, but it’s as if fate keeps putting him in my path. What can I do?

Signed: Wishing I could be invisible

Leonie says: Are you sure you really want to get out of his way?

ONE OF THE THINGS Maddie liked best about living in Leonie’s house was that Leonie made her tenants feel as if they were part of her family. Although Maddie and Krystal both had their own rooms on the second floor, there were many nights when all three women would gather downstairs in Leonie’s living room. It’s where Maddie and Krystal were when Leonie returned from the hospital the following evening.

“How’s Dylan?” Maddie asked when she entered the room.

“He’s doing fine. The doctor says he’ll be able to come home tomorrow,” Leonie said, shrugging out of her coat.

“We were just going to watch a chick flick. Want to join us?” Krystal asked.

Leonie glanced at the big bowl on the coffee table. “Is that popcorn buttered?”

Maddie grinned mischievously. “Yes, and we’re drinking real Coke, not diet. It’s so much fun to be bad.”

“Come on, Leonie. Join us,” Krystal urged. “We’ve rented a romantic comedy starring Joseph Fiennes. He is sooo cute.” She sighed. “And when the popcorn’s gone, we’re going to have hot-fudge sundaes.”

Leonie chuckled. “Oh, you girls do want to be bad, don’t you?” Maddie could see her resolve weakening. “All right. You convinced me, but first I need to take care of a few things. Will you give me fifteen minutes to change my clothes?”

“Take your time,” Maddie called out to her departing figure.

But she didn’t take very long at all. And when she returned, she hadn’t changed her clothes.

“You’re never going to believe who I just talked to,” she said in a breathless voice. “The producer of the Rob Lerner show. He wants me to come to California and tape a Valentine’s Day segment.”

Krystal shrieked. “Oh my gosh, that is so cool! Do you know how many people watch that show?”

Maddie didn’t watch a lot of TV, but she did know that Rob Lerner was a comedian who hosted a late-night talk show that consistently scored high in the ratings. “That is good news, Leonie. What exactly did he say?”

“I’m so stunned I can hardly remember. Luckily I took notes.” Leonie waved a pink slip of paper in midair. “Apparently they’re going to be doing a special segment for Valentine’s Day and they want me to be a part of it. I’m supposed to give tips on how to make the day more special for the one you love.” She paused, pushing her finger to her lips. “Of course, just because I’m there for the taping doesn’t mean I won’t get edited out before the program is aired.”

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