Second Chance with the Billionaire

“I remember.”

“But they insisted that the four of us were a family. And that we needed to stick together.”

Conor shifted his weight, looking beyond her. “Let’s grab a table,” he said. “Have you had dinner?”

“Yes.” She followed him and took the chair he held out for her.

“Then how about a piece of lemon pie? Dylan swears it’s the best in the state.”

“That sounds great.” She rarely ate desserts, but tonight she needed something to occupy her hands and some activity to fill the awkward silences. In her head, she had imagined this meeting going far differently.

Conor’s lack of enthusiasm for their reunion threw her. When they had placed their order, he leaned his chair back on two legs and eyed her unsmiling. “You’ve turned into a beautiful woman, Ellie. And that’s saying something, because back in high school you were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.”

She gaped, totally taken off guard. Heat flooded her cheeks. “You’re being kind.”

“Not kind...merely truthful,” he said, his expression guarded. “I was a guy, not a eunuch. Being your friend wasn’t always easy.”

Still that undercurrent of something.

“Are you angry with me?” she asked, not at all sure what was going on.

“No. Not now.”

“But once upon a time?”

“Yeah. I guess I thought both you and Kirby could have argued harder to stay.”

She bit her lip. “You don’t know the half of it,” she said softly, regret giving her an inward twinge. “We were typical sullen teenagers when we didn’t get our own way. We yelled and pleaded and sulked. But Mom and Dad insisted we were a family and that we would be leaving the nest soon enough...that we needed to stick together. The thing is, they were right. Kirby and I had the most amazing experiences that year.”

“What about your studies?”

“They homeschooled us. And we worked in the clinic. I wish you could have been there, Conor. The jungle is an incredible place. Dangerous, of course, but so beautiful.”

“I’m glad things worked out.” When he glanced at his watch, she sensed he was impatient.

Sadness filled her chest. At one time this man had known all her secrets. Had been at her side for most of the important moments of her life. “How about a dance?” she said impulsively. “For old times’ sake.”

His body language was one big negative, but he nodded. “If you want to.”

The small dance floor was crowded with other couples. Conor held her close and moved them across the scarred hardwood with ease. Gone was the slightly gawky boy she had known. In his place was a powerful, confident man. Not that the young Conor had ever lacked confidence, but still...this Conor was different.

Her response to him took her by surprise. The sexual awareness might be a weak remnant of the past, but then again, she was a living, breathing woman, and Conor was masculinity personified. She’d come here tonight to plead her brother’s case. Ending up in Conor’s arms was both unsettling and frightening. She didn’t have the right to revel in his embrace.

He smelled like an ad for expensive men’s aftershave, but more on the faint and tantalizing end than the knock-you-down way some guys bathed in it. Conor was both achingly familiar and at the same time almost a stranger. The dichotomy was one she couldn’t explain.

Her sundress left her shoulders bare. Conor had one hand at her waist and with the other, clasped her fingers in his. She wondered if he experienced the tingling that rocked her.

Over the years, she had thought of him, of course. Wondered how he was doing. But she didn’t remember ever feeling this aware of his male appeal, even as a giddy teenage girl with a crush.

When the song ended, they returned to their table. Conor sighed. “It’s great to see you, Ellie. But you said you needed to talk to me. And so far all we’ve done is exchange pleasantries. It’s a beautiful night. Do you want to go for a drive so we can hear ourselves think?”

The noise level in the Silver Dollar had increased exponentially as the hour advanced. Conor’s offer was appealing, but she didn’t have the luxury of wasting time. “That sounds wonderful, but I can’t be out much longer. I have a baby, Conor...a son. I put him to bed before I came, and Kirby is keeping an eye on the baby monitor, but sometimes he wakes up.”

Though Conor seemed shocked by her confession, after several beats of silence, he gave her a genuine smile. “The baby or Kirby?”

“Very funny.” She didn’t know why she was so nervous about saying what she needed to say. Except that she still had a hard time accepting it. “I need you to spend some time with Kirby.”

Her request came out sounding more like a demand, but Conor didn’t flinch. “Of course,” he said calmly. “It will be fun to catch up and rehash old times.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She felt her throat tighten with emotion. Tears stung her eyes, foolish tears, because she’d had plenty of time to come to terms with what had happened. “Kirby needs you,” she said. “He’s had a huge blow, and I think it will help him to talk to you.”

“Why me?” Conor’s terse question echoed suspicion.

She couldn’t blame him. He must wonder why no one else in her life had stepped forward to lend support. Conor been invited to her wedding by Kirby, but he’d sent his regrets along with an impersonal gift card. The fourteen years were an enormous void filled with only the slightest contacts from either side.

She rubbed her temples with forefingers. “You had a phenomenal future ahead of you as a competitive skier. Everyone knew it. You had made the American team as a not-quite sixteen-year-old. Everything you ever wanted was in reach.”

“And then I blew out my knee.” The words were flat.

“Yes. So you lost that dream and had to learn who you were without it.”

“No offense, Ellie, but I’d just as soon not rehash that year.”

“Sorry.” She knew what it had cost him to give up his life’s goal. The doctors had told him he could ski cautiously, but that if he tried to hit the slopes aggressively enough to win championships, he risked losing all mobility in his right leg. Despite the overwhelming disappointment, Conor had sucked it up and gotten on with his life.

“What’s wrong with Kirby? What happened?”

She wiped the tears away, not embarrassed but feeling painfully vulnerable. “He lost a foot. Had it amputated just above the ankle.”

Two (#ulink_21d260d1-19ca-5211-a8af-de31a5c80b33)

Conor’s stomach clenched. “Jesus, Ellie.” Stunned didn’t come close to describing how he felt. The Kirby Conor had known could do anything. He’d played football, basketball and, though he wasn’t a fanatic like Conor, he’d been a creditable skier. “Tell me...” He swallowed hard, not at all sure he really wanted to know.

Ellie was pale, her eyes haunted. “He finished medical school and his residency eighteen months ago. You would be so proud of him, Conor. He’s brilliant. And as good a doctor as my parents are.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. He always ruined the curve for the rest of us.”

Ellie nodded. “Exactly. I had to study, but Kirby could look at a textbook and remember almost everything he read.”

“His brain isn’t in question. What happened?”

“As a celebration, he wanted to climb Aconcagua. He went up with a group of other men, almost all of them experienced climbers. But they got caught in a freak storm. The ledge they were sheltering on broke and Kirby fell several hundred feet. His lower leg was caught between rocks. It took rescuers almost forty-eight hours to get to him.”

Conor stared at her aghast, sick at the thought that Kirby survived two nights and days on the mountain only to lose part of a limb. “He’s lucky to be alive.”

Ellie nodded, tears glittering on her eyelashes. “He’s had three surgeries and endless hours of therapy. He’s walking on a prosthetic foot. But, Conor...”

He touched her hand on the table. “But what?”