LITMIR.BIZ

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“He’s obviously having trouble coping with the death of his parents, and naturally so, but I could make a few inquiries and find someone who works specifically with children if you would like a referral.”

      She nodded fractionally. “It may come to that. But for now, I’d just like to get him out of the closet.”

      “Sure,” he said and noticed that her hands were shaking a little. “Does he have nightmares?”

      “Yes,” she replied and pushed the mug across the counter. “I have cream and sugar.”

      “This is fine,” he said and took the mug. One brow rose. “Your tastes have changed.”

      He met her gaze. “Some,” he said and tried to ignore the way his heart beat faster than usual. “So, about his nightmares...does he talk to you about them?”

      “Sometimes. He has a fear of water,” she said and sipped her coffee. “That’s why he fishes out of a bucket.”

      Kieran recalled that her brother and sister-in-law lost their lives in a boating accident and how Marco had responded at the hospital when he’d mentioned he might want to try fishing for real. “Because of his parents’ accident?”

      “Yes,” she replied softly. “The boys weren’t with them that day. It was just pure luck, really. They’d both had head colds and my sister-in-law Miranda didn’t want to risk them getting worse,” she explained.

      “Gino and Miranda were good people,” Kieran said. “I used to stop by JoJo’s sometimes, when I’d come home to visit my folks. As I recall, they were dedicated sailors.”

      She nodded. “They competed in all the major events. They were in San Francisco for the regatta, which they did every year. I loved it because it meant Vince and I could see them, and we could catch up as a family.”

      Kieran knew Vince had moved to San Francisco straight out of high school. It was one of the reasons Nicola had chosen to go to college there, to be close to her older brother.

      “Vince has a big apartment in the city,” she explained quietly. “And they always stayed with him when they were there. I was at my brother’s apartment watching the kids because Gino and Miranda had gone for a sail outside the bay before the races started the next day. They say the storm came out of nowhere.” She sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know... Gino was always so careful about the dangers of doing what he loved. But on that day, he miscalculated. It was days before their bodies were found...but by then we knew something terrible had happened. Vince identified them, and then we had to tell the boys. It was the hardest thing I have ever done.”

      Kieran watched as her eyes glittered with tears and she blinked a couple of times. There was something incredibly vulnerable about her in that moment, and he fought the sudden urge to reach across and touch her. Comforting Nicola was out of the question. He had to remember that. She wasn’t a patient or a friend. She was the girl he’d loved in high school. She was his past. End of story.

      “You know,” he said and met her gaze, “I’ve seen fear manifest from loss before...it’s not uncommon, particularly in a child. In time, and with patience and maybe therapy, he’ll probably overcome his fears.”

      “I hope so,” she said quietly. “Until then, I have to work out how to make him feel safe. Unfortunately, I feel as though I’m failing at every turn.”

      It was quite an admission, and one he was sure she hadn’t intended divulging. Hours ago, she’d made her feelings toward him abundantly clear—she still hated him. And yet now he was standing in her kitchen, listening to her earnest words, drinking coffee and acting as though it was all absurdly normal.

      “I’m sure you’re not,” he assured her. “Parenting is a challenge even in the best of circumstances.”

      “You’d know more about that than me.”

      A familiar ache hit him directly in the center of his chest, and he quickly averted his gaze. He didn’t want to see her eyes, didn’t want to speculate as to how much she knew about him and his life before he’d returned to Cedar River. But people talked. He knew that. But with everything else that was going on with his family—with his parents’ impending divorce, the discovery of his half brother, and then his other brother Liam secretly marrying the daughter of their father’s sworn enemy, he hoped that his own smashed-up personal life might not rate a mention on the radar. But when he did finally glance at her again, he figured that she knew enough. Maybe not everything, particularly how broken up inside he felt most of the time, but she certainly had some idea of what he’d been through.

      “Later,” he said and shrugged. “You can ask me later.”

      She shrugged loosely. “I shouldn’t have said that. Your private life is none of my business.”

      He nodded. “Anyway, for now, we should probably go and talk with Marco.”

      She placed her mug on the counter. “He’s upstairs.”

      He followed her from the kitchen and up the stairway, trying not to notice how her hips swayed as she walked. Or the way her perfume assailed his senses. Other than in a professional capacity, it had been a long time since he’d been so close to a woman. He hadn’t been intimate with anyone since he’d separated from Tori. Casual sex had never been his thing, and he wasn’t interested in a committed relationship, so the best thing was to avoid women altogether until he worked through his demons. But he hadn’t figured on his old attraction for Nicola making a comeback.

      Get a grip, O’Sullivan...

      Ten minutes later, he still hadn’t managed to coax Marco from his hiding spot in the closet, but the child was at least answering him. To his credit, he’d made the tiny space into a fort, complete with walls and windows, out of several old cardboard boxes and several towels pegged together. Looking at how he’d used his imagination allayed some of his concerns for the boy’s emotional well-being. This was clearly Marco’s safe place, his go-to spot when he felt cornered or unhappy or despairing. Kieran wasn’t an expert in child psychology, but he was relieved to discover that Marco wasn’t simply hiding in a confined space staring at the wall.

      “You’ve built a really cool fort,” Kieran said quietly.

      Marco was silent, then grunted. “Johnny says it’s lame.”

      “Well, I’m something of an expert at fort building,” he said, flicking his gaze toward Nicola, who stood in the doorway. He caught a tiny smile at the edges of her mouth and ignored the way it made his gut churn. “When my brothers and I were young, we turned our treehouse into a fort. It had a moat, too.”

      He heard a shuffling sound, like sneakers shifting across carpet, and then spotted Marco peering around the door frame.

      “A moat?” the boy asked. “Really?”

      “Yeah,” Kieran replied. “It had water in it, too. I fell into it once and dislocated my collarbone.”

      Marco’s eyes widened, and he stepped out of the closet. “That must have hurt a lot.”

      “It did,” he said and nodded. “So, your aunt said your hand was hurting.”

      “Yeah,” the boy said, his voice cracking.

      “On a scale of one to ten, how much does it hurt?” Kieran asked.

      “Ten,” Marco replied quickly.

      Kieran glanced at Nicola, saw the concern on her face and offered a reassuring nod. “Ten,” he mused. “Really? That’s a lot. Are you sure?”

      Marco’s bottom lip wobbled. “Well...maybe a five.”

      “Five... I see. Then, that’s not so bad, right? Remember the word I said you need to say over and over?”

      The boy nodded. “I remember.”

      “Good,” Kieran said and smiled. “Keep saying it, over and over, every time your

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