“Um … would you like to take some pie with you? Can’t eat it all, would hate to throw it out.”

Matt smiled. A soft smile, barely visible through the scruff. Kelly duly—but not dully—considered that scruff, about how sensitive her skin was, and her heart started banging so hard she nearly passed out—

“Can’t have that, God knows.”

What? Oh. “No,” she said. “Can’t have that.” Goodness gracious, her sternum was going to hurt like hell in the morning. “Well. Okay. Let me get that packed up for you …”

Kelly turned toward the kitchen, letting out a little gasp when she found herself somehow cradled to his chest.

Oh, she thought, smelling him, wanting to inhale him as she listened to his lovely strong heartbeat and soaked up how amazing those arms felt folded around her. She nearly cried, it felt so good and it had been so long, and heck, yeah, she missed this.

“Your call,” he said, and Kelly did flinch.

“Wh-what?”

“Whether I go or stay.” He smiled. “It’s up to you.”

Jersey Boys: Born … raised … and ready.

The Real Mr. Right

Karen Templeton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A recent inductee into the Romance Writers of America Hall of Fame, three-time RITA® award-winning author KAREN TEMPLETON has written more than thirty novels for Mills & Boon. She lives in New Mexico with two hideously spoiled cats, has raised five sons and lived to tell the tale, and could not live without dark chocolate, mascara and Netflix.

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To all those amazing, selfless people

who open their homes,

their lives,

and their hearts

to other people’s children

and call them “ours.”

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Excerpt

Chapter One

Her arm muscles screaming from the weight of the sacked-out toddler slumped against her chest, Kelly McNeil blinked up at the multigabled Queen Anne, so still and serene in the dark...and prayed she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life.

Okay, the second-biggest mistake—

“Who’d you say these people were again?”

Behind her, the minivan’s engine ticked itself to sleep, the sound overloud in the deep winter silence, and Kelly smiled briefly for her young son.

“This is where my best friend lived,” she said, her heart knocking as they started up the softly lit brick walk that bisected the snow-shrouded front yard. “We’ll be safe here.”

Between the twin disks of his Harry Potter glasses, Cooper’s nose scrunched. “You sure?”

“Yes,” Kelly said, because she had to believe that or die. As it was, she felt as though she’d never be completely free of the fear knotting her stomach...a fear that had finally trampled her last shred of common sense. Because this was so not her, this was insane, uprooting two kids in the middle of the night and taking them someplace she hadn’t even seen for nearly twenty years. She knew the Colonel still lived there, Sabrina had said so in her last Christmas letter, but his number was unlisted and Sabrina had apparently changed her cell phone number—

Swallowing hard, Kelly boosted Aislin higher on her shoulder and trudged up the steps to the porch, where brass coach lamps still stood sentry on either side of the glossy black door, illuminating the weathered gray floorboards, the dark green porch swing that had been privy to many a summer night’s adolescent gripefest....

Blowing out a breath, Kelly pressed the doorbell. A dog barked. A big one, by the sound of it. Coop sidled closer.

“Dad—”

“Doesn’t know where we are, sweetie.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“How come?”

Because by the time she and Rick had met, her third year of college, her father was dead and her mother had moved to Philly and Maple River, New Jersey, had quietly slipped into her past. Oh, Sabrina had been one of Kelly’s bridesmaids and had visited after Coop’s birth, but there’d been no reason for Kelly to return here. “It never came up,” she said quietly, and Coop nodded.

Except he then glanced over his shoulder, worried, and Kelly tugged him closer, fury hard-edging the fear. A moment later, through the frosted panels framing the door, a light flashed on. Sabrina wasn’t there, of course—girlfriend had traded the Garden State ’burbs for Manhattan years before. And Bree’s mom, Jeanne, had died some years before. Which left the Colonel. Who’d always scared Kelly a little, truth be told. Man hadn’t risen through the ranks of the air force as quickly as he had by being a softie, that was for sure.

But for all Preston Noble’s penchant for order and discipline, he’d also adored his five kids, four of whom were adopted. And Kelly had come to associate “next door” with love and laughter and the security that comes from being in a large family where everyone had each other’s backs. Sure, Sabrina’s dad might glower and bluster for a moment, especially at the late hour, but Kelly had no doubt he’d allow her and her children the same refuge he’d not only given to an untold number of foster kids over the years but also more rescue animals than she could count.

At least until she figured out what came next.

The door swung open; Kelly sucked in a breath...only to nearly choke when she realized the dark-haired, beard-hazed man hanging on to the excited bear of a dog wasn’t the Colonel. The man frowned, confusion rampant in deep brown eyes even more intense than she remembered.

“Alf! Sit!” he commanded, glowering first at the dog, then her after the beast obeyed. “Can I help you?”

Clearly, he had no idea who she was. But even after eighteen years, Kelly would have recognized Sabrina’s twin brother, Matt, anywhere.

Hell.

* * *

Behind owl-like glasses, embarrassment flared in the woman’s oddly familiar green eyes as she cradled the baby’s head to her shoulder. The chipmunk-cheeked boy beside her inched closer, the move belying the minute thrust to his chin. Wrong house would be Matt’s guess.

Until she said, “Matt? It’s...Kelly. Kelly Harrison. McNeil, I mean. Sabrina’s old friend?” And he felt like he’d been sucker punched.

Holy crap. When was the last time he’d even thought about Kelly McNeil—?

She cleared her throat. “Is...is your dad here?”

“Uh, no.” Unable to contain herself at the sight of the boy, Alf surged to her feet again; Matt tightened his hold on her collar until butt once again touched floor. “Actually, he’s out of town.”

“Oh. Well. Um... Sorry for bothering you.” Kelly touched the boy’s shoulder. “Come on, Coop—”

“No, it’s okay,” Matt said, confused as hell but not about to send a woman and two kids back out in subfreezing weather. “Please...come in.” He opened the door wider, kneeing aside the whimpering Newfoundland. When Kelly hesitated, Matt sighed. “Really. And don’t mind Alf, she’s harmless. Although you might want to watch out for slobber.”

That got a pair of tiny smiles, before, with a murmured “Thanks,” Kelly ushered the boy inside. Matt shouldered shut the heavy door as the draft sideswiped the thermostat, kicking it on. The kid—Coop—immediately hunkered in front of the brass floor register, the concerned dog standing guard, while Kelly lowered herself and the sleeping toddler to the painted bench in the foyer. Unbuttoning the top button to her own coat, she released a long breath. “That feels so good. The heat I mean. The heater’s wonky in my car, and it took longer to get here than I’d expected.”

“From?”

“Haleysburg,” she said, naming a town about a half-hour’s drive away. Her face reddened. “I don’t want to put you out—”

“You’re not.”

“If you’re sure,” she whispered, her eyes drifting closed, and he realized this clearly exhausted woman was not the same stuck-up girl who wouldn’t give his sorry-assed self the time of day all those years ago. Still, an explanation might be nice right about now.

“Your kids, I take it?”

Kelly jerked, her eyes popping open. “Yes, sorry. I’m...” Yawning, she yanked off her white knit hat, freeing a billion red curls. Barely past her shoulders now. Not as bright. “This is Aislin. And that’s Cooper. Coop?” The boy pushed upright, grabbing the dog’s ruff to steady himself. “This is Matt Noble. My best friend’s brother.”

Coop seemed to gather himself before sticking out his hand. “Pleased to meet you,” he said, like he was sixty, for God’s sake, and Matt felt a smile elbow through his not-exactly-chipper mood.

“Pleased to meet you, too, Cooper.” Not much of Kelly in the boy that he could see. Except for the curls, maybe, although they were brown. The set to his chin, however—that was Kelly all the way.

“Can I go in there?” he said, looking toward the living room, still crammed with Matt’s mother’s sometimes bizarre Americana collection.

“Sure. Knock yourself out.”

As boy and dog wandered off, Kelly fingered back the baby’s snowsuit hood to stroke her damp, strawberry-blond curls off her face. “I apologize for showing up out of the blue like this, but Sabrina must’ve changed her number and I’d forgotten the one here....” Her chin wobbled, steadied again. “And I was...desperate.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed. “You in some kind of trouble?” he asked, giving voice to the question that’d been poking him between the eyes from the moment he laid eyes on her. Because you can take the cop off the force, but taking the force out of the cop—not so easy.

Kelly’s mouth turned down at the corners. “Not sure that’s the right word. My ex—”

The toddler suddenly jolted awake, huge blue eyes assessing Matt for a moment before swerving to her mother.

“Mama—?”

“It’s okay, baby,” Kelly whispered, smiling for her little girl, a smile like Matt remembered her giving to anybody but him back in the day, and something pinged in the pit of his stomach. The kind of pinging lonely, divorced schlubs would do well to ignore.

“Your ex-what?”

Except then Cooper and Alf reappeared, and Kelly shook her head, color once more flooding her cheeks. And finally it clicked, what would make a woman drag two kids out in the middle of the night, to someplace she hadn’t been in years. True, there weren’t any obvious signs, no black eyes or visible bruises, but—

“You guys want something to eat?” he asked, tamping down a repulsion that had never faded, even after nearly thirty years, and Kelly’s grateful smile cracked his heart. Because the past had nothing to do with now.

And now she obviously needed his help.

Whether he was totally on board with that idea or not.

* * *

Kelly sat at the glittery white quartz island, Aislin pitched forward on her lap to smush pudgy little fingers into the sparklies, thinking that, on the one hand, the heat purring through the register and the smell of browned butter as Matt made grilled-cheese sandwiches—under the dog’s unwavering supervision—were soothingly familiar. Enough that Kelly felt her perpetually tight shoulder muscles unknot. A little.

Because what was also familiar—and not soothing in the least—was her wack-a-doo reaction to this dude she hadn’t seen since she was sixteen. An eon, practically, during which she’d fallen in love, married, become a mom twice over. As in, moved on?

And yet...

True, she was worn-out, and emotionally trashed, and time had definitely blessed Matteo Noble, who hadn’t exactly been shabby before. On him, that whole dark, moody, broody thing worked. It was how it was all working on her that was seriously messing with her already fritzed brain.

So, no. Not going there.

Instead she ruffled Coop’s hair as he sat next to her, staring up at the assorted copper cookware hanging off a rack, and corralled her wayward thoughts as she gave the renovated kitchen a once-over. Gone were the knotty pine cupboards, the beat-up, trampoline-size maple table where the island now stood, the brick-patterned linoleum. Now it was all very HGTV, stainless steel, glass-tile backsplash and pale wood floor. Very nice, very generic. Very not Matt’s mom, an energetic little blonde who’d always been far too busy feeding people to worry about her kitchen’s décor.

As if reading her mind, Matt said, “We talked Dad into a remodel a few months. Since he’s making noises about wanting to sell the house, anyway, and eighties nostalgia wasn’t gonna cut it.”

Remembering that their mother had died several years before, Kelly gently asked, “How’s he doing?”

Matt flipped the sandwiches on the griddle. Shrugged. “He functions. Putters. Reads. Sometimes hangs out at Tyler and Abby’s salvage shop—Sabrina tell you about that?”

“Briefly, yes. How’s that going?”

“Good. Restoration’s a hot market these days. So’s repurposing. It’s amazing, the stuff they pull out of old buildings. Not to mention who buys it. This one guy, he completely refaced the outside of his house with bricks from a demolished factory in Trenton. Nuts, right?”

What was nuts was how they were shooting the breeze as though it hadn’t been a million years since they’d seen each other. As though things hadn’t been painfully awkward between them, especially at the end.

And that was the smaller of the two elephants in the room. The far larger, stinkier one was the big old “why?” that was behind her bringing the kids here.

Especially since she knew Matt was a cop. A detective, if memory served. So this reprieve—because of the kids, the hour—would undoubtedly be short-lived. At some point there would be questions. Questions Matt had every right to ask. Not that his dad wouldn’t have expected explanations, too, but she’d always felt she could trust the Colonel to protect her, the same way he’d protected his own children. Not to mention all those foster kids he and Jeanne had taken in over the years.

But Matt... This was uncharted territory. Yes, he was feeding them and being chatty—he’d been raised right—but could she count on him to take her side? To even believe her—?

“You got awfully quiet,” Matt said, scattering her thoughts.

“It’s been a long...day.”

His forehead wrinkled for a moment before he said, with a wink for Aislin, “Almost done.”

Her eyes stinging, Kelly pulled her baby closer, burying her cheek in her silky curls. Thank God this one seemed unaffected by the events of the past two years. The same, however, couldn’t be said for Cooper, who leaned heavily on the counter as he watched Matt, smushed face propped in hand. Yawning, he shoved up his glasses to rub his eyes, and Kelly’s heart turned over. Poor guy was probably dead on his feet.

“They can bunk in Tyler’s old room when they’re done,” Matt said. “There’s twin beds—”

“Oh. I brought sleeping bags—”

“No need.” Matt’s gaze touched hers, then slid to Coop as he cut the finished sandwiches in quarters, clunked the plates onto the counter. “Whaddya want to drink, sport? Juice? Milk?” He grinned. “Chocolate milk?”

“Mom?” he said, hopeful eyed, and she smiled.

“For tonight? Sure.”

Coop sat up straighter and nodded. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

She bit her lip, though, when Matt retrieved a carton of one percent milk, a container of “skinny” chocolate syrup from the stainless-steel French-door fridge. He threw her a glance. “Dad’s stuff. Doctor’s orders.”

“Oh! Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine....” He rummaged in a cupboard for something. “Probably healthier than I am. Doc wants him to stay healthy, though. Ah—I knew I’d seen one of these....”

Moments later, he’d rinsed out and poured milk into someone’s old sippy cup, which he then handed to Aislin, who plugged it into her mouth and started chugging as though she hadn’t had anything to drink in weeks. Matt chuckled, twin creases gouging those bearded cheeks, then turned that grin to Kelly, reminding her exactly how messed up her life was.

How messed up she was. Ergh.

“Linnie! What do you say?”

There was an actual popping sound when spout left mouth. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Matt said, then faced Kelly again. “What about you?”

“I’ll have what they’re having,” she said, watching Matt’s strong hands as he poured her milk, noting how those hands were attached to equally strong arms, which in turn were attached to a good, solid chest, and for a brief moment, because she was crazy stressed, most likely, she imagined herself wrapped up in those arms, against that strong chest. And this wasn’t even about sex—seriously, the very thought made her tired—but...caring. Being cared about—

“You want something else?” he asked, and her eyes jerked to his.

“What?”

“Your sandwich. You haven’t touched it.”

“Oh...sorry. No, this is fine, I’m just...” About to cry. Great. “I’m almost too tired to eat.”

“I can see that,” he said, being kind again, dammit. “By the way, you can take Sabrina’s room—”

“Mom? I’m done. C’n we go play with the dog?”

Matt chuckled. “Mutt thought you’d never ask. Here—” he handed Cooper the plastic plate with the mangled remains of Aislin’s sandwich “—go on into the family room, back there,” he said, pointing. “Make her sit first, though. She knows the drill.”

Kids and dog gone, Kelly finally took a bite of her sandwich. “This is really good.”

“You must be really hungry.”

She almost smiled. “You use butter?”

“Mom would reach down from heaven and smack me if I didn’t.”

Kelly bit off another corner, washed it down with the best chocolate milk ever. “Your mom used to make grilled-cheese sandwiches for Bree and me almost every day after school. You learned well.”

Matt hesitated, then carted the griddle over to the sink. His back to her, he said, “Only thing my folks ever wanted was for any kid who set foot in this house to feel safe.” He turned. “Making grilled-cheese sandwiches wasn’t the only thing I learned well. So what’s going on, Kelly?”

And there it was. She set down her milk glass, skimming her index finger over the damp rim before lifting her eyes to his. “Let me get the kids to bed first?”

He crossed his arms, doing the narrow-eyed thing again, and a shiver traipsed up her spine. Finally he walked back to the island and leaned heavily on the counter’s edge, close enough for her to see the beginnings of crow’s feet fanning from nearly black eyes.

“It’s obvious you need help,” he said, too softly for the kids to hear. “Which for old time’s sake I’m more than willing to give you...but only if you swear to tell me everything. And I mean everything. So. Deal?”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

One side of his mouth kicked up. “You got any other options?”

She sighed. “Not really, no.”

Still gripping the counter’s edge, Matt straightened again, his gaze drifting to the kids in the family room before resettling on hers. “I may not share the Colonel’s DNA, but I’m still his son. If you can count on him, you can count on me.”

And God help her, she believed him. Because, as he so accurately pointed out, what choice did she have?

* * *

A half hour later, Matt lay sprawled in his dad’s recliner, half watching some late-night TV show, when Kelly appeared in the room’s entryway. He glanced over and his breath hitched in his chest.

She looked downright shrunken, hunched into herself as she distractedly rubbed one forearm with her other hand. Even as a teenager she’d been on the skinny side, but now, even with the baggy sweatshirt, she was all points and angles. Damn, her cheekbones had never been that sharp.

Or her eyes that flat.

“I was beginning to think you’d chickened out,” he said. “Or passed out.”

A weary smile touched her lips. Granted, Kelly hadn’t been your typical, in-your-face Jersey girl—in fact, her being so quiet was what had first attracted him. But this went way beyond being reserved. Or stuck-up, which Matt now realized was absurd. No, the word that came to mind now was...deflated. Like the minute she didn’t have to put up a front for her kids, she’d surrendered to whatever hell she was going through.

“I’d’ve never been able to sleep,” she said, “knowing you were out here...wondering.”

Matt clicked off the TV and levered the chair back upright. “You got that right—”

“Please don’t feel obligated because you happened to be here instead of your dad.”

“And I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. I’m a cop, I took an oath to protect and serve, okay? Don’t recall it saying I got to pick and choose who I protected.”

“So...this isn’t personal?”

“Not sure how it could be, since we haven’t seen each other in, what? Nearly twenty years?”

“Got it.” Then her brows pushed together. “Why are you here, anyway?”

He almost laughed. “Because why would I still be living with my father?”

“I didn’t say—”

“But you thought. And are you gonna stand there the rest of the night or what?”

“I might.”

For a split second, annoyance prickled. Until Matt realized that tiny, defiant act was her trying to keep some control over a situation in which she probably felt pretty damn powerless. So he leaned back in the chair, plucked his soda can from the holder on the chair’s arm.

“My own house is all torn up at the moment,” he said, taking a swig. “Okay, for longer than that. I’m doing most of the work myself so the remodel’s not exactly going like gangbusters. No heat, no indoor plumbing.... You get the picture. So I’m camping out here.”

She folded her arms over her stomach. “Sabrina mentioned your divorce. I’m sorry.”

Even after nearly a year, the sting still took him by surprise. “Thanks,” he said, appreciating her solicitude but having no intention of talking about his pulverized marriage. With her or anybody—

“So you’re here alone?” she said.

“No, Abby’s here, too.” Matt jabbed a finger toward the ceiling. “Upstairs. She was up this morning at five, hit the hay before it was even nine. Another reason why I’m here, since Pop didn’t much cotton to the idea of her being here alone.”

“My goodness, how old is she now? Twenty?”

“Twenty-two. And pissed as all get-out that I’m here, cramping her style.”

“Oh, and like the Colonel doesn’t?”

Well, look at that. Was that an actual twinkle in those pretty green eyes? Matt chuckled. “Yeah, but I’m her brother. Which is far worse. Especially since Pop spoils her rotten.”

“Don’t give me that,” Kelly said, still smiling. Sorta. “I remember how you guys were when she was little. You all spoiled her rotten.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” he said, and Kelly laughed softly, then glanced toward the ceiling.

“I can’t believe we didn’t wake her up. She must sleep like the dead.”

“She does. Always has. Last summer? Kid slept through a thunderstorm that sounded like it was gonna take out half the town.” Alf shoved herself to her feet and padded over to Matt for some loving. He messed with the dog’s ears for a moment or two, then frowned back at Kelly. “So. This story...?”

She cupped the back of her neck, her forehead creased. “You realize I can only give you my side?”

“Better than no side.”

“And if I sound completely delusional?”

“Guess that’s a risk you’ll have to take.” He took another swallow of the nearly flat soda. “But I somehow doubt your ex is buried in the woods somewhere.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Kelly said drily, then finally sat on the very edge of the sofa, jerking a limp red curl behind her ear. Her mouth pressed flat for a moment before she said, very softly, “I’m scared.”

Point to him. “For you? The kids—?”

“Both.”

“Your ex hurt you?” When her eyes shot to his, he said, “You started to say something. Earlier.”

“Right.” She blew a short, humorless laugh through her nose. “Depends on how you define hurt.”

Matt released a slow, controlled breath. “You have custody?”

Nodding, she rubbed her hands against her jeans. “Except Rick is not happy about that. At all. Sure, he has visitation, but more and more he keeps showing up unannounced to see the kids. At first I let it go, thinking at least it showed he cared. That he’s trying.” Her mouth thinned again. “But even before tonight, it was unsettling. For the kids, I mean. Well, me, too...”

She mashed her lips together. “The frustration, the hurt, the anger—I understand that. Rick has every right to be disappointed. To be bitter. Hey, I’m pretty bitter and disappointed, too. I did love him,” she said, her eyes filling. “With all my heart. But the day came when I realized that love alone wasn’t enough to fix our broken marriage.”

If it was one thing Matt had learned in his work, it was that one rarely got a straight shot at the truth, that more likely than not there’d be a few side trips along the way. But without those side trips, you were likely to miss something crucial. “Broken how?”

Kelly leaned back, grabbing a throw off the sofa’s arm to wrap up in. “We met in college. Dated for... Gosh. Four or five years before we got engaged. Didn’t get married for another year after that. Certainly long enough that I felt pretty sure Rick was, well, normal. He was... He made me feel secure. Safe. Like...” She sighed. “Like my dad used to. Over and over, Rick assured me that I could lean on him, that’s what he was there for.

“And he was a good provider. A good dad. We were happy. For a while, anyway. He is—or at least was—a gifted salesman. And I was good with being a stay-at-home mom. I even liked my in-laws,” she said with a flicker of a smile. “Except, when...when Aislin was about six months old, Rick lost his job. And another one didn’t exactly land in his lap. I’d been doing a few small catering jobs here and there—mostly friends of his parents, that sort of thing—so I figured that was as good a time as any to expand. I had a little money, from my dad’s life insurance policy, so I invested it in my business.” Alf switched allegiances, chuffing over to rest her chin on Kelly’s knee. She smiled, plowing her fingers through the dog’s thick fur. “It blossomed, more than I could’ve dreamed. But Rick...”

Her hand fisted. “Instead of supporting my work—which was keeping us from losing the house—he resented my success. I don’t doubt,” she quickly added, “that his pride had taken a huge hit, that he was hurting because he couldn’t keep his promise to provide for us. Having watched my father go through the same thing when he got sick, I understood that. But...”

Kelly folded her legs underneath her to prop her elbows on her knees, leaning her head in her hands. “I didn’t want a divorce. Not for a long time. Especially after Rick’s father died and I didn’t want to cause him any more pain. And in any case, I kept thinking—” dropping her hands, she sighed “—that this was one of those ‘or worse’ times and that somehow, we’d work through it. He was my husband, Matt,” she said at Matt’s pissed sigh, briefly meeting his gaze. “The man I’d promised to love no matter what...”

For a moment, she seemed to disappear inside herself, then said, very softly, “And it wasn’t as if we hadn’t weathered rough patches before. Except then,” she said on another sigh, “Rick started drinking more than usual. And his behavior became more...irrational. He’d either fly off the handle over nothing—especially to Coop, who he’d pick on mercilessly—or sink into this bottomless depression that was almost worse than the anger. And when Coop’s grades started to slip, when he started overeating...”

A sad smile preceded what she said next. “I finally told Rick it was over, I was done trying to hold our marriage together single-handedly. But until I actually handed him the divorce papers I’m sure he thought I was bluffing.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Almost three years.” Her eyes filled. “And despite everything, it broke my heart. Even though, yes, I’ve finally accepted that whatever’s going on in Rick’s head has nothing to do with me. But on some level—” another sigh “—it still kills me that I couldn’t figure out how to fix things.”

Yeah. He knew how that went, didn’t he? Knew, too, the folly of that particular mind-set, thinking if one person wants things to work badly enough, it can happen. “And sometimes, the only way to fix something is to walk away.”

Silence shuddered between them for several beats before, on a long breath, she sagged back into the couch. “Yeah. I know.” Her eyes lowered to the dog’s ginormous head, still on her lap. “Except the divorce didn’t end the...problems.”

“The drinking, you mean?”

“That, and the emotional outbursts. If anything, they got worse.” Kelly lifted her eyes again, and the fear Matt saw there knifed him in the gut. “In fact, Rick’s only supposed to be with the kids when his mother’s around. Since he lives with her now.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“Very. I’d trust Lynn with my life. And my kids’. She’s devastated by what’s happened. And as frustrated at not being able to get through to Rick as I was. Am. So this seemed a reasonable compromise. Except, as I said, he keeps coming over. And about a week ago, I noticed this...blankness in his eyes. And that...”

Her lower lip briefly quivered. “I’ve tried talking to Family Services to get a restraining order but they don’t issue those on hunches. On feelings. On things that...” Pressing her lips together, she gave her head a quick shake. “On what might happen. And since he’s never actually harmed the children...”

Something in her voice... Matt’s eyes narrowed. “So what changed things?”

A moment or two passed before she said, “Rick called, long after the kids were asleep, wanting to talk to Coop. I said no and he went ballistic. More than usual, I mean. Then he insinuated...” She swallowed. “He said if he c-couldn’t have the kids whenever he wanted, then neither of us could.”

Matt froze. “And you took that to mean...?”

“Something I can’t even think about. And what really scared me was that he wasn’t drunk. Not that I could tell, anyway.”

For several seconds, Matt stared at her profile as she kept her gaze fixed on the coffee table between them. He would never have figured the Kelly he’d once known for a liar—Sabrina wouldn’t have kept her as a friend if she had been. But he didn’t know this Kelly, did he? “You think he was serious?”

She lifted tear-filled eyes to Matt again. If she was pulling one over on him, she was doing a bang-up job. “I sure wasn’t going to stick around and find out, was I? Court orders be damned.” She sighed. “So. Here we are. Still want to help me?”

Matt sat forward, like that would relieve the agita. In theory he understood the impossibility of mitigating every potential nightmare. No police force in the country had those kinds of resources. Also, in theory, as an officer of the law he was bound to uphold that law. And for God’s sake, not be a party to someone breaking that law.

Except he’d also seen firsthand how often inaction led to unimaginable horror. And even more unimaginable grief. Maybe he couldn’t say for sure she was telling the truth, but his gut told him she was. At least, mostly. Because his gut was also telling him she was holding something back. Something he’d pry out of her later, for sure.

But not tonight.

After a long moment Matt got to his feet and looked past Kelly into the kitchen. “You sure nobody can connect you to this place? Your ex? His mother?”

“Positive.”

“But they can contact you?”

“They have my cell number, yes. And no, it can’t be traced. I checked.”

He almost smiled. “I couldn’t—and won’t—even try to advise you on what to do. In fact—” he finally met her gaze “—this conversation? Never happened. Got it?”

A frown momentarily dug into her brow, then eased. “Yes.”

“Then you can stay here, at least for the moment. Until you—we—figure something out. I’m sure Dad would agree. And in any case, he won’t be back for a week. By that time... Well. Anything can happen, right?”

Kelly stood and shoved her hair away from her face. “And Abby?”

He’d forgotten about his sister. Crap.

“Tell her whatever you think seems best. People come through here all the time. She probably won’t think anything one way or the other.”

“But you’re still putting your butt on the line.”

“True. But so are you.”

“Why?” she said softly, and he knew what she was asking.

“Frankly? I have no idea.”

Kelly blinked a couple times, then crossed the floor to put her hands on his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered, then padded out of the room, leaving Matt pretty sure he wasn’t going to sleep worth crap tonight.

Chapter Two

When Kelly’s phone buzzed at some ungodly hour the next morning, she checked the display, then stiffened. However, tempting as it was to let the call go through to voice mail, she knew Rick would only keep calling until she answered. More than once, she’d considered getting a new number. But even as messed up as things had been, she still hadn’t been able to completely cut him off. Not that she could have, anyway, with the kids.

After last night, however...

Still dressed, she unwrapped herself from the heavy Pendleton blanket that had been folded at the foot of Sabrina’s bed and crunched forward, forking her fingers through her tangled curls before answering.

“Where the hell are you?” Rick said.

Meaning he’d been by the apartment. Squeezing her eyes shut, Kelly hugged the brightly patterned blanket to her cramping chest, reminding herself of how far she’d come, that she was brave and strong and no longer vulnerable to Rick’s guilt trips. To his threats, veiled or otherwise. That she was nobody’s victim, dammit. “You don’t need to know that right now.”

“The hell you say. And that’s not answering the question.”

Anger propelled her off the bed, even if she did cling to the bedpost for support as she shoved her still-socked feet into her sneakers. “Yes, it is—”

“It’s not right, Kelly,” Rick whined in her ear, “not knowing where my kids are. Why are you punishing me like this?”

Dear God—was he serious? She sank onto the edge of the rumpled bed, her free arm strangling her trembling stomach. Had she dreamed last night? Or misinterpreted things that badly?

Then she remembered his voice, low and cold, uttering words she would have never dreamed she’d ever hear come out of his mouth, even at his worst, and her strength returned. “This isn’t about punishing you, it’s about protecting our children—”

“That’s bull—”

“You threatened them, Rick!” she whispered, praying the kids were still asleep. “Said if you couldn’t have them, then neither of us could.”

“What? Where the hell are you getting this?”

“From you. Word for word.”

A beat or two passed before he said, “Even if I did say that, you’ve got it all balled up, I couldn’t have possibly meant—”

“I know what I heard, Rick. And how you said it. You telling me you don’t remember—?”

“I don’t, swear to God. Whether you believe me or not.”

Kelly sighed so hard it was almost painful. “Well, you did. Whether you believe me or not. Look, I know we’ve had this conversation a hundred times already, but I’m going to say it again—you need help. And if what went down last night doesn’t bring that home for you, I don’t know what will. And until you get that help—” she fisted her free hand “—I’m not letting you anywhere near the kids. End of discussion, I’m done.”

Shaking slightly, she disconnected the call as Matt appeared at the open bedroom door, startling her, his arms crossed as if nothing short of a tornado would budge him. While she probably looked like a headlight-blinded possum a split second before splat.

Wondering how much he’d heard—and deciding she didn’t care—Kelly splayed her fingers through her hair again, then let her hand drop.

“Kind of hard to have a meltdown with you gawking at me like that.”

“You think I’ve never seen a meltdown before?”

“Not from me you haven’t. And trust me, it’s not pretty.”

“Somehow, I doubt you can top Sabrina in that department—”

“Matt! For heaven’s sake—don’t you have someplace, anyplace, to be?”

He shoved his fingers into his jeans’ pockets, revealing a dark green corduroy shirt underneath a beat-up leather jacket. Black, of course. To go with the beard stubble, even more pronounced than it’d been last night. “Yeah, actually,” he said on a rush of air, “I’m expecting a delivery at the house, then I’m headed into the city. But it can wait—”

“No. Really. We’ll be fine.” Kelly tried to smile, failed, went with a frustrated growl instead. “Dammit—I thought I’d feel relieved once we got away. Instead I feel... I don’t know. Like...like maybe I overreacted.”

Matt’s expression darkened. “And what was the alternative? Stick around until something bad did happen? Like you said yourself, sometimes you gotta listen to that voice.”

“Then why can’t I trust that? If it’s so right, why am I second-guessing myself?” Her hand shot up. “Never mind, don’t answer that. Not that you could. And, anyway, you don’t need to get sucked into this any more than you already are. But thanks. For letting us stay here.”

“No problem,” Matt said, then extended his hand. “Give me your phone.”

She pressed it to her chest. “Why?”

“So I can plug in my number, why do you think? And I want yours, too.” When she hesitated, he pushed out a breath. “I’m not gonna stalk you, for God’s sake. Just give me the damn phone.” So she did, and watched with the strangest mixture of relief and worry as he deftly added his number to her contacts. “You need anything, you call, you hear me? And before you give me any this-is-my-problem-not-yours crap... I get that, okay? Doesn’t mean you have to deal with it alone.” He handed back her phone, then dug his out of his jacket pocket. Waited.

She sighed, told him then frowned. “Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, for all intents and purposes we’re strangers—”

“Like hell.” Matt slipped his phone back into his pocket, then slammed his hands into his jacket pockets. “I mean, yeah, on the surface, you have a point. But we saw each other nearly every day for years. That hardly makes us strangers. In fact, I’m guessing both Sabrina and my dad would say you were family. Not to mention my mom, if she were still here. And they’d all three wring my neck if they thought I’d left you to swing in the breeze. So deal with it.”

She almost smiled. “Is there another option?”

“No.” He started to leave, turned back. “Abby should be up soon, the dog’s already been out and everything’s fair game in the kitchen. I’ll be back by two, but if you need anything—”

“Yeah, yeah, got it. Thanks.”

He gave her a long, disquieting look, then huffed out a breath. “Just so you know? I’m not entirely unconflicted about this. Like you said, I’ve only got your side of the story. That said, I’ve worked my fair share of domestic abuse cases, saw more times than I can count women who didn’t follow their instincts, who either didn’t see or didn’t want to see the warning signs. Or were too scared to act on them. So if what you’re saying is true...then what you’re doing? Takes balls.”

With that, he finally left. Only somehow his presence remained, all that ubermacho protective energy vibrating around her. Through her. And she thought, This is bad.

Because what she had brewing here was a perfect storm of overwrought, celibate woman colliding with honorable hunk...to whom, alas, Kelly wasn’t less attracted than she had been in days of yore.

So, yeah. Hell.

By rights, she should have felt more safe, more secure, that Matt took his protective role so seriously, his justified ambivalence notwithstanding. He’d keep her babies safe, and that was all that mattered. And God knew it would be so easy to simply...let go, let someone else do the thinking, the planning, the worrying.

Except leaning on men—her father, then Rick... She’d done that her entire life. Until that support got ripped away and she’d nearly drowned in her own insecurities.

A ragged breath left Kelly’s mouth as she squatted to dig clean clothes out of the jumbled mess inside her suitcase. She wasn’t stupid. And heaven knew if pride had been an issue she wouldn’t even be here. But there was a fine line between knowing when to ask for help and expecting other people to fix your problems for you. Having barely figured out the difference, for damn sure she wasn’t about to slip back into old habits. Not just for her sake, but especially for her children’s.

Meaning as much as the old Kelly ached to let Matt be Matt, the new one didn’t dare.

* * *

Showered and dressed in at least a clean variation of what she’d worn the day before, Kelly checked on her still-sleeping children before following the heady aroma of brewing coffee to the kitchen. By now the sun had hauled its butt up over the horizon, blasting the space with light and making the countertops glisten more than the patchy snow outside. Matt, bless his heart, had made enough coffee for half the town, and Kelly gratefully filled the huge mug sitting by the maker.

She took that first, glorious sip and sighed. Amazing, what a shower, sunshine and a shot of caffeine could do to brighten one’s mood. Or at least make one feel...hopeful. What tomorrow—shoot, the next hour—would bring, she had no idea. But right now things were better than they had been last night. And that she could work with.

The Newfie clicked over to the French doors, parked her big old nose against one of the panes and rolled back one eye. “No,” Kelly said, and, with a heavy sigh, the dog lumbered off to plop down in a pool of sunlight. Wow. If only the kids were that easy to wrangle.

Inside her jeans’ pocket, her phone vibrated in tandem with her mother-in-law’s ringtone, and the hopefulness wavered.

“Hi, Lynn,” she said softly, searching for something, anything, the kids would eat, since her cooking skills were totally lost on them.

“You really took the kids away?”

Lucky Charms! Yes! “I really did.”

“Far?”

“Far enough. Doubt Rick and I will run into each other in the supermarket.” An unlikely possibility, in any case, since Rick hadn’t seen the inside of a grocery store in decades. She unearthed a pair of plastic bowls from the cupboard, set them on the counter.

“Why now?”

Kelly leaned against the counter, her heart hammering as she squinted into the sun pouring into the formal dining room through two sets of French doors. Since the last thing Kelly wanted to do was add to Lynn’s pain, she’d refused to gripe to the woman about her son, either before or after the divorce. Now was no different. One day, maybe, she’d tell her...everything. But not this morning. So a little fudging was in order. “Because, for one thing, he keeps showing up drunk—”

“Showing up where? To your place?”

“Yes.”

“When the kids are there?”

“That would be his point, unfortunately. And when he’s drunk he’s...not a nice person And last night he called—really late—and he got pretty...belligerent. And I just felt we needed to get away. At least for a while.”

“Without telling Rick where you went?”

“Yes.”

A moment’s pause preceded Lynn’s quiet comment. “So what you’re saying is he’s getting worse.”

The despair in the older woman’s voice seared Kelly’s insides. “I’m so sorry, Lynn, I know this must feel like I’m punishing you, too—”

“And why should you be sorry? This isn’t your fault.”

Kelly swallowed, trying to ease the thickness in her throat. “I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me.”

“For God’s sake, sweetheart... I do have two eyes in my head. Okay, maybe I had a hard time at first, accepting the truth—what mother wants to believe her own son could turn into...” Kelly heard Lynn take a shaky breath, and tears welled in her own eyes. “Into s-somebody she doesn’t even recognize anymore. But I saw how hard you fought to keep your marriage together. And frankly, if it’d been me in the same situation? I don’t know if I could’ve held out as long as you did.”

Her former mother-in-law’s kindness nearly did her in. And only further muddled the whole sordid mess.

“Thank you,” Kelly whispered, and Lynn made a sound that was half laugh, half sigh.

“For what?”

“Being...you.”

That got a snort. “Like I’m going to be somebody else? So maybe this’ll be the kick in the pants Ricky needs. Maybe one day—soon, God willing—he’ll pull his head out of his butt and see what he’s doing, get back on track. And who knows? Maybe the two of you could work things out—”

“Lynn. Please...don’t.”

Another sigh. “I know. It’s just... I want you to be happy, sweetheart. For all of us to be happy again. Like we used to be. That’s not such a bad thing, is it?”

Finally, Kelly picked up the box of cereal, started to pour it into the bowls. “Not a bad thing at all. And I won’t keep the kids from you, I promise—”

“Hey. That’s mine.”

At the young woman’s Jersey-tough voice, Kelly dropped the box, sending little marshmallow and sugary oat bits skittering across the kitchen floor and the dog into a feeding frenzy. Wresting the box from underneath the Newfie’s elephant-size paw, she heard Lynn say, “Okay, I gotta get going. But you call me anytime, okay? I love you, baby—”

The person attached to the voice clomped across the floor, snatched the box off the counter. Glowered at Kelly. Who pointed to her phone, then said into it, “I love you, too, Lynn.”

“I know, honey. I know.”

Her chest aching, Kelly disconnected the call and slipped her phone into her pocket, then faced the wiry little blonde in jeans, hoodie and a scraped-back ponytail who probably didn’t weigh as much as Coop. Without makeup, she looked about twelve. And yet, as Kelly watched Abby dump cereal into a bowl and clomp back toward the island—in a pair of the ugliest work boots on God’s green earth—she decided in a barroom brawl, her money was on the pipsqueak.

“Abby?” she said, even though Kelly would have known her anywhere, she looked exactly like her mother. If leaner and meaner.

“That’s me, yep.” The bowl set, Matt’s sister veered back toward the coffeemaker, only to glare at the mug in Kelly’s hand. Oops.

“Matt told me to help myself to anything, I didn’t realize the cereal was yours—”

“And the mug.”

“O-kay! Here, I’ll find something else—”

“Fuggedaboutit.” Twisting her ponytail in her hand, Abby slammed open a cupboard door, grabbed another mug. Banged the door shut hard enough to make things rattle. Opened the fridge, grabbed milk, slammed that door, too.

“Um... I take it you’re not a morning person—?”

One hand shot up, cutting her off. The other poured her coffee, lifted the mug to her mouth. Two, three sips later, Abby let her head loll back, her eyes drift shut. She opened them again, took another swallow then sighed.

“Sorry. I’m a bear before my coffee.”

“I can relate. I’m Kelly, by the way.”

“Yeah. Matt texted me, told me you and your kids were here.” She made a face. “That I should be nice.” Abby turned, smushing her skinny little butt against the edge of the counter. “Like that’s even an issue, I’m always nice.”

Kelly smiled. “So you don’t remember me?” At the young woman’s head shake, Kelly said, “Your sister and I were best friends. I remember when you were born. In fact, I used to change your stinky diapers.”

She took another swallow. “Gross.”

“It’s okay, you were so cute we didn’t mind.”

Snorting, Abby carted her mug back to the island, climbed onto a stool and poured milk over her cereal. Shoveled in a bite. Something felt slightly off, but Kelly couldn’t quite put her finger on what. That Abby sounded and acted a little young for her age, maybe? Then again, did Kelly even remember what twenty-two sounded like anymore?

“I do sorta remember you,” Abby said, a smile finally appearing as she chewed. “You and Bree used to let me watch stuff Mom and Daddy would’ve had a fit about if they’d known.”

“Did we scar you for life?”

For a moment, a shadow dimmed the smile. “No,” Abby said quietly, then dispatched another bite of cereal. Chewing slowly, the blonde sat back, arms folded over her flat chest, her gaze questioning and astute, and Kelly instantly recognized the childish act for what it was—an act. Girl was sharp as a tack. Sharp enough, most likely, to see through any truth dodging on Kelly’s part. Especially when she asked, “So why are you here? I mean, when’s the last time you saw any of us?”

“It’s been a while. But I’m still in touch with Sabrina. Sort of.”

“Who doesn’t live here. Which I assume you know.”

Kelly blew out a breath, then refilled her coffee mug. Obviously Matt’s text hadn’t been elucidating. “Just needed a break, that’s all.”

“From?”

Her shoulders bumped. “Life,” she said, and Abby’s eyes narrowed. Exactly like Matt’s—a thought that brought on a brief, though piquant, shudder—even though they weren’t related by blood. Except then, with a shrug, Abby slanted forward again to resume eating.

“Hey, I don’t know you, got no reason to get up in your business.” She swallowed, then shrugged. “Matt’s another story, though, being a cop and all. Although I’m not sure how beholden to the badge he is at the moment, since he’s on leave.”

Kelly frowned. “On leave?”

“Yeah. It’s not exactly a secret, I’m surprised he didn’t say anything. Something about accumulated vacation time? Since he apparently worked some ridiculous hours after his divorce. Wait—did you know—?”

“Yes. Sabrina told me.”

Abby nodded. “None of us liked Marcia very much. She was way too la-di-da for this family, that was for sure. But when things fell apart, so did Matt. Not in a dramatic way, I don’t mean that—this is Matt we’re talking about. But he kinda went all pod-person on us. Looked like Matt, sounded like Matt, but the real Matt wasn’t home.” She chuckled. “At work, yeah. But not at home. Anyway...if he didn’t take his days, he was going to lose them. Or so he said. So he’s around a lot, working on his house, bugging me. Big brothers are hell. You got any?”

Wow. Nothing like a little caffeine and carbs to ignite the jabberfest. “No, I’m an only child.”

“Count your blessings. So were you and Matt close? When you were kids?”

“Not really, no.” Even if not by Kelly’s choice. A nugget of personal info she’d keep to herself. “He did his own thing, Sabrina and I did ours.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Still, you should see Matt’s place while you’re here. He’s put in some reclaimed stuff from the shop—the mantel is the bomb, from some nineteenth-century farmhouse.”

Nope, not even penciling in that little field trip. Because, you know. Frying pans, fire, yada, yada.

Then two yawning children wandered into the kitchen, seeking hugs and nourishment. This I can do, Kelly thought as she set their filled bowls on the island and heaved her wild-haired daughter up onto a stool. And Abby immediately sucked Coop into a conversation, exactly as Jeanne would have done, and the ache in Kelly’s chest eased a little more.

Because, for the moment, it was good to be back. To feel safe again.

Only then she thought of Matt. His eyes. His smile. His...everything. But especially his I-got-this attitude.

And that feeling-safe thing?

Gone.

Chapter Three

The instant Matt climbed out of his Explorer in the open-air lot near the Lincoln Tunnel, his face froze in the brutally cold wind. Between that and the five thousand bodies per square foot now swarming around him at roughly the speed of light, he remembered why he’d rather ice-skate naked than come into Manhattan. The crowds, the dirt, the noise... He flinched as a fire engine edging through the taxi-clogged street blasted its horn—so not him. And never would be.

Except since this was where his twin sister lived, this was where he needed to be. Because nobody understood how his brain worked better than Sabrina. Sure, they talked on the phone and texted, but their connection was strongest when they actually shared breathing space.

Made sense, he supposed, considering how, as suddenly orphaned six-year-olds, it’d been them against the world. Naturally Matt had felt honor bound to protect his sister, even though he later realized how much his scrappy little twin had protected him, too. And they were still there for each other, no matter what.

Bowed against the biting wind, he walked the few blocks to the Ninth Avenue diner where Sabrina had suggested they meet, one of those glaringly lit, grease-scented joints where the glasses were plastic, the plates weighed more than some of the patrons and fries came with, end of discussion.

Sabrina had snagged a booth near the back, looking like a slumming A-lister. Didn’t act like one, though, squealing and bouncing up to throw her skinny, designer-clad arms around Matt.

“Sit, I already ordered for you,” she said, immediately reverting to Jersey speak. “You look good. Worried, but good.” Surrounded by a forest of artfully messy dark hair, equally dark, guilt-ridden eyes bored into his. “Damn. It’s been too long, Matty.”

“Hey. You’re the one who spent the holidays out in Oyster Bay with your hotsy-totsy boyfriend.”

“I know,” she said with a mock pout. Which immediately turned into a huge grin...a moment before she thrust out her left hand, on which glittered a multistoned diamond ring that redefined bling.

“Well, look at that,” Matt said, forcing his lips into a smile as a dozen conversations and clattering silverware and a ringing phone blurred around him. How could his sister marry someone he’d never even met? Still, he managed to say, “Congratulations,” then stood and leaned over the table to kiss her cheek. “Lucky guy.”

“Yes, he is,” Bree said with an uncharacteristic giggle.

Just kill him now. “So when’s the wedding?”

Their food arrived. Burgers and fries. Uninspired but comforting. “Not for at least a year. Plenty of time for you to get used to the idea.” A grin flashed. “And Chad. Anyway...what’s up? It must be something big to get you into the city.”

Matt hoisted his hamburger off the plate, took a bite. His arteries were probably recoiling in terror, but his mouth was doing a happy dance. “When was the last time you talked to Kelly?”

Frowning, Sabrina grabbed her napkin to swipe dripping hamburger juice off her chin. “As in Kelly McNeil? I mean, Harrison, whatever.”

“You know more than one?”

“No, but...” She put down the burger, wiped her hands, picked it up again. “Actually talked? Gosh... Ages ago. Since before she had her second kid. Why?”

“What’s your take on her ex?”

Frowning, Sabrina swallowed, took a pull of her diet soda. “Okay, Matty? You can quit the whole detective shtick right now. What’s going on?”

His sister was many things, but a faker wasn’t one of them. Obviously she didn’t know. “She and the kids are at the house.”

Brows shot up. “You mean our house? Why? And why did I not know this?”

“Yeah, I’m getting to that, and she indicated you two had kind of drifted apart. Not to mention you changed your number.”

“Crap, right. On both counts,” she said with a disgusted-at-herself look, then squinted. “And you think Rick has something to do with her showing up?”

“Think, hell.” His jaw tightened. “I know.”

Sabrina’s gaze sharpened. “And the man still has all his teeth?”

“What—?”

“Oh, come on, Matty—it’s not like nobody knew how you felt about her back in the day. Although I couldn’t figure out why you never acted on it—”

“Why I never acted on it?” His sister smiled, and he realized he’d walked right into her trap. “So maybe I felt something for her. Since she didn’t exactly give me any encouragement, I didn’t pursue it.”

“Idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“You really never noticed how Kelly clammed up whenever you came into the room?”

“Sure I noticed. Figured that was her way of telling me not to bother—”

“You can’t be serious! She was crazy for you! But you’d waltz in, all swagger and strut like the world was yours, and she’d think, ‘What chance would I have with him?’”

“She actually told you that?”

Bree made the Scout’s honor sign.

Matt gaped at his sister for several seconds before he found his voice. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because, for one thing, you did act like you were all that back then. I’m not even sure I liked you very much, to be truthful. So I sure as hell wasn’t inclined to fix you up with my best friend. Even if you did have a thing for her.” She jabbed a fry in his direction. “Which I’m guessing you still do. Since you’re here and all.”

“I’m here because Kelly is about to violate her custody agreement, if she hasn’t already, and I figured if anyone could shed some light on why she’s doing that, it’d be you.”

Sabrina finished her burger, then wiped her fingers on her already crumpled napkin. “You don’t believe whatever she’s told you?”

His gut twisted. “I don’t know her, Bree. You do. Or did, anyway.”

“And if I put your mind at ease? Then will you go smack him around?”

Matt almost smiled. “It’s not like I can go vigilante on the guy’s ass. Since, oddly enough, I would like to have a job to go back to. And—” he leaned forward “—this is strictly between us, okay? Even if her story pans out, I’m still really pushing it by letting her stay at the house.”

“Jeez, you make it sound like she offed the guy.” Her brow furrowed. “Do we know that she didn’t?” she said, and Matt smiled again. They’d both thought the same thing.

“I heard her talking to him this morning, so yeah. He’s still alive.”

“He said, gritting his teeth.”

Matt glowered at his sister. Who, of course, laughed at him. “Bree...get real. What I felt—that was a long time ago, when none of us had a clue about, well, anything really. And after Marcia... Hell, I don’t want to even look at that horse, let alone get back up on it.” And his sister didn’t know the half of it. Neither did anyone else. “And no,” he said to Bree’s lifted brows, “I’m not calling Marcia a horse. Anyway, I’m not entirely sure what’s going on, I didn’t hear much of the conversation, but last night Kelly seemed pretty convinced that Rick might hurt the children.”

“Holy crap—are you serious?”

“She certainly is. And if what she’s telling me is legit...” He sighed. “You know how I feel about this stuff. I’m not gonna let anything happen to her or the kids, if I can help it. But you can see my dilemma.”

“Yeah,” Bree sighed out, then caught their waitress’s eye and ordered a piece of cherry pie. “Okay,” she said after the pie arrived, “for what it’s worth, I only met Rick twice, and once was at their wedding when he was on his best behavior. Although even then, alarms went off. The second time was right after Cooper was born. Which is when I decided my initial suspicions had been dead-on.”

“Meaning?”

“He was—is?—full of himself, for one thing. Controlling as hell, for another. Not that I dared say anything, Kelly was clearly head over heels with the guy. And obviously okay with letting him rule the roost.”

Bree speared a hunk of the pie, pointed it at him. “What I said earlier? About how you intimidated her when we were kids? That wasn’t only because you were being a butt, but because Kelly wasn’t exactly the most secure chica in Jersey. Her parents... I swear, she couldn’t go pee without their permission. Frankly, I think the only reason they let her come over was because they figured—rightly—there’d be no funny stuff with Dad around.”

She finally pushed the bite into her mouth. “Anyway...even if watching Rick and Kelly together gave me the willies, I figured as long as Kell was happy, what business was it of mine? But then Rick lost his job, and, well... I worried then how that would impact their—” she pressed her lips together for a moment “—balance. Because I got the feeling, even from reading between the lines when she wrote, that she finally started to find her footing the same time he lost his. And that he didn’t take it well.”

“Score one for you,” Matt said, and Bree made a tick mark in the air. “Kelly ever say Rick...hurt her?”

“Physically? No. But I could definitely tell Kelly wasn’t happy. So, frankly, I was relieved when she admitted she’d asked for a divorce. I also know how much it must have wrecked her.”

“So she said. She also indicated things got worse with Rick after that.”

Bree sighed. “That would not surprise me. But here’s the thing about Kelly. Two things, actually. One, she’s fiercely loyal. Even in school she was never fickle with her friendships, like so many other girls were. Which was why it was so hard for her to split from Rick. And why, maybe, she might not be telling you, or even being totally honest with herself, about how bad things were between them. I mean, who knows, right? But she’s also law-abiding to a fault—no going over the speed limit, no crossing against the light. Made me nuts when we were younger, until I realized that, for her, obedience equated security.” She twisted to dig her phone out of her purse beside her on the seat. “So if she is violating that agreement, she must have a really good reason. Honey, believe me—you’re never gonna find anyone more trustworthy, I swear.” Glancing over as she rummaged, she said, “That help?”

“Yes. And no.”

“I know, sweetie,” Bree said gently, reaching over to squeeze Matt’s wrist before, her phone retrieved, she flicked her hair over her shoulder, then scrolled through her contacts. “Did she give you her cell number?”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling out his own phone and reading it off.

“That’s the one I have. I’ll call her tonight. But you be sure she has my number, too.” Then she stood and dropped her phone back in her purse. “And unfortunately, I’ve got an appointment downtown in twenty minutes—”

Matt grabbed the check. “You go, I’ve got it.”

“You sure?”

“For God’s sake, Bree—”

Laughing, she hugged him, then scooted through the lunchtime crowd, leaving him with that bittersweet feeling he got every time they parted that she didn’t need him anymore. Hadn’t, actually, in a very long time.

Outside the wind had died down, giving the feeble winter sunshine half a shot at warming the poor slobs hustling through the concrete canyons. Hands plowed into the pockets of his Giants jacket, Matt slowed his pace, half-heartedly glancing in store windows as he meandered back to his car. Normally he’d be champing at the bit to blow this town, get back home. Except currently that meant returning to something he was less sure how to handle now than he had been this morning.

And it was driving him crazy that he wasn’t becoming more sure-footed as he got older.

His entire adult life, he’d relied on his instincts to guide him. On the traits that made him who he was, that had propelled him into law enforcement without a second thought. Traits he’d assumed would make him a good husband. A good man. For someone who’d only ever wanted to do the right thing—at least, once out of the clutches of adolescence—it had come as a shock to discover that not everyone defined right, or even good, the same way.

Like, say, his ex-wife.

Oh, in theory he understood why his marriage fell apart. God knows Marcia had told him often enough, and plainly enough, that his breathing down her neck with wanting to take care of her made her crazy. But Matt’s only motive had been to make sure she was safe, that her brakes were good and her tires inflated, that she locked all the doors when he had to work late, that she didn’t take unnecessary risks when she was out late.

Just like his father had done for his mother. Who, as far as Matt could tell, had never had an issue with being taken care of. Watched out for. A good example, he’d thought. Only, according to his ex, his attitude was out-of-date, paternalistic and condescending.

He still didn’t get that.

Speaking of his dad, who needed to know he had a houseguest... Matt pulled his phone out of his inside pocket, took a breath and dialed.

“Matt!” his father boomed in his ear. “What’s up?”

Even at nearly seventy, Preston Noble still sounded like a man half his age. But with an aura of omniscience—not to mention omnipotence—that had kept all of them in line as kids. And his father still commanded both deference and respect, Matt thought on a wry smile. He loved his old man, was more grateful than he could say that he and Jeanne had taken Sabrina and him into their home, their hearts. But it wasn’t always easy living up to the Colonel’s expectations. Or sometimes even knowing what those expectations were.

Along with a dozen fellow pedestrians, he stopped at a side street to let a line of honking cars wade through the bumpy intersection. “How’s Uncle Phil and Aunt Vickie?”

“Fine. And something tells me you didn’t call to ask about them.”

A thousand miles away and he still didn’t miss a trick. “Okay, I’m not.” He squinted into the traffic. “You remember Kelly McNeil?”

“Considering she basically lived at our house for ten years? Of course.” A truck driver blasted his horn at some woman on her phone who’d darted out in front of him. “Where are you?”

“In the city,” Matt shouted over the din. “Came in to see Bree. Anyway... Kelly. She’s at the house. With her kids.”

“She is? How come?”

The light changed. Matt fell in step with the herd surging across the street, filling in his dad as he walked. When he finished, his father released a breath.

“And you’re going to help her.”

An order, not a question. Now it was Matt’s turn to sigh, his breath frosting around his mouth. “Not sure what I can do—”

“Your mother loved that girl, you know. Or maybe you don’t. Of course, Jeannie would have taken in every needy kid in the world, if she could have,” Preston said on a slight laugh. “But that one had a special place in her heart. She said Kelly always seemed so...fragile. Like she’d break if you looked at her funny.”

Before Matt could interject, his father continued. “Her parents’ fault, if you ask me. They were good people, don’t get me wrong. And your mother and I liked them well enough. But there’s a fine line between protecting your kids and smothering them. And they crossed it.”

“Huh. Sabrina said pretty much the same thing.”

“We could never figure out how the girl could hang around your sister—hell, any of you kids—and not have some of that spunk rub off on her. But it didn’t. At least not before her father died, and her mother and she moved away.” He paused. “How’s she doing?”

“Hard to tell. Although I think she found that spunk. At least enough to get herself and her kids out of what sounds like a bad situation.”

“Spunk, hell. That takes guts. Which you know.”

His father was only echoing what Matt had said to Kelly that morning. Words Matt had meant with every fiber of his being. So why did he feel like rats were gnawing at him from the inside out?

“So you’re okay, then,” he said, “with her being here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Can’t tell you how often your mother mentioned Kelly after they moved. Asked Sabrina if she’d heard from her, how she was making out. And I know for a fact if Jeannie were still here, she’d be gratified that Kelly felt she could come to us. So you take good care of her. And as it happens...I was going to call tonight, anyway. Think I might stay down here a little longer.”

“Really? How much longer?”

“Haven’t decided.” Pop laughed. “Although the way the weather’s been up there, I may not come back until June. I didn’t figure you’d mind.”

“Um, no, of course not—”

“Abby okay? The other boys?”

The “boys” being Matt’s adopted brothers. Tyler, the youngest, was always “okay,” as far as Matt could tell, his salvage business growing like gangbusters as he went through girlfriends like popcorn. Matt’s older brother, Ethan, however, was another case entirely, parenting four kids on his own after his wife’s death three years earlier.

But they were all adults now, making their own choices and decisions. After raising them, not to mention everything their father had gone through during their mother’s illness, the old man deserved to live his own life. Have a little fun. Soak up the Florida sunshine. So Matt reassured the Colonel they were all good, to go frolic with the gators as long as he liked.

The call finished, and it occurred to Matt that, actually, the whole making-your-own-choices thing was a crock. Or at least a myth. Especially when fate had other ideas.

Because if it were up to him, he thought, stopping in front of a toy-store window, he’d still be married. Maybe a dad himself by now. If it were up to him—he went inside, just to look—redheaded crushes from his past would have stayed in his past, not shown up in his present to seriously mess with his head. If it were up to him—he picked up a Star Wars LEGO set, put it back, picked it up again—his sister would have given him every reason to boot said redhead back to Haleysburg to work out her problems with her ex. And his father wouldn’t have twisted the knife by playing the your-mother-would-have-wanted-this card.

The mother who’d saved his sorry butt when he’d been too little to know his butt needing saving.

Never mind the risk involved, he thought as he plunked the LEGO set, as well as a brightly colored sock monkey, on the counter by the cash register and pulled out his wallet, should he get involved.

His phone buzzed as the cashier handed him back his credit card, the bagged toys. And not only to your career, bonehead, he thought when he saw Kelly’s name and number in the display, and his heart thumped.

“Hey...what’s up?” he said, aiming for casual...which went right out the window when he heard Kelly’s next-door-to-hysterical laugh in his ear. No, not a laugh, some sound that defied description. Now outside, his hand tightened around the phone. “Kelly—?”

“Rick’s dead,” she choked out, then burst into sobs.