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King franchises, Colleen had never seen Paulie out of gym clothes, and she always seemed on the fringe of things, as nice and smart as she was.

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

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

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

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

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

      “I’m a virgin,” she said.

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

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

      Oh! Poor lamb! “Not a problem.”

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

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

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

      “Absolutely.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      “I’m fixing her up,” Colleen said.

      “Oh, God,” Connor muttered.

      “What? You have something against true love?”

      “Do you have to ask?”

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

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

      Connor shrugged. He hated talking about their parents.

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

      “I’d rather hang myself, but thanks.”

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

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

      “What? Since when? Who?”

      “No kittens, Colleen.”

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

      “Another life mistake.”

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

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

      “When have I ever done that?”

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

      “Well, so did you.”

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

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

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

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

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

      Well, no time like the present.

      “Hey, Bryce,” she said, ambling over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

      He raised a friendly eyebrow. “You asking?”

      “No.”

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

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

      “Aside from you?” He winked.

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

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

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

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

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

      “Thanks, Coll! You’re the best!”

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

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

      She wondered if this mystery

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