A Kiss, A Dance & A Diamond

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 hand hurts. Now, your aunt also says it’s way past your bedtime, so how about you get settled into bed.”

“Do I have to have more stitches?”

“No, not a single one.”

Marco looked pensive. “More medicine?”

Kieran checked his watch. “Not yet. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Do I have to go to school tomorrow?”

Kieran looked at Nicola and she nodded. “How about you see how you feel in the morning and then talk to your aunt about it, okay?”

The boy looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. “Okay.”

“And keep saying the special word,” Kieran said and smiled. “I promise your hand won’t hurt as much.”

Marco grinned a little. “Okay. Thanks, Doctor.”

“And you can call me Kieran, okay? Because your aunt is a friend of mine.”

“Sure thing.”

Kieran turned toward Nicola. “I’ll leave you to get him settled.”

She stepped into the room and nodded. “Thank you for this... I don’t know what I would have done otherwise...” Her words trailed off for a moment. “If you give me ten minutes, we can finish that coffee.”

“Sure,” he said before giving Marco the thumbs-up sign. With the promise that he’d see him soon, he headed back downstairs.

He lingered in the kitchen, ditched his jacket and hung it over the back of one of the chairs and sat at the table, looking around. Like the rest of the house, it was a modern, spacious room, with granite countertops and top-of-the-line appliances. He’d noticed an array of family pictures on the wall in the hallway when he’d arrived and quickly deduced that this was once Gino Radici’s home. He’d always liked Gino. They’d played football together in high school and, as Nicola’s boyfriend, they all used to hang out at JoJo’s pizza parlor most afternoons. Life had been easy back when he was in high school...his parents were happy, his family was a tight unit, Liz was still alive and he’d had Nicola.

Until he blew her off.

At the time, he’d believed he was doing the right thing. Maintaining a long-distance relationship from separate colleges was never going to work. She had her ambitions, and so did he. Then, the week before graduation, when she’d brought up the idea of getting engaged he’d freaked out, suspicious that she might do something they’d regret—like deliberately get pregnant. And Kieran had no intention of being a father at eighteen. So days later, he’d ended it. Badly. He’d said he wanted to see other people. Other girls. He told her to get a life that didn’t include him. Remembering how stupidly he’d behaved only amplified his guilt by a million. She’d deserved better.

When she returned to the kitchen ten minutes later, she looked tired but relieved. “He’s settled...finally. And I managed to get Johnny back into bed and the video game out of his hands. Thank you,” she added and sighed as she moved around the countertop. “I owe you a fresh cup of coffee.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

It was a pointed remark...one they both knew had little to do with the situation at hand. Their history circled in the air between them. Air that needed to be cleared once and for all.

“Kieran, I—”

“I never meant to hurt you, you know,” he said quietly. “I mean, I know I did...but I was too young and too self-absorbed to fully realize what I was doing. When I did have the maturity to work out that I’d been a complete jerk, we were long gone from one another’s life. But I am genuinely sorry for hurting you, Nicola.”

She was still as a statue. She didn’t look impressed or accepting of his apology. “Sure...whatever.”

“I can leave if you—”

“I promised you more coffee,” she said and turned toward the pantry. “I’ll make a fresh pot. Are you hungry?”

His stomach growled and he remembered he hadn’t eaten since lunch. “Yeah.”

A tiny smiled lifted her mouth at the edges for a moment. “Cannoli?”

He grinned. “I still have a sweet tooth.”

“I figured,” she said and moved around the kitchen, making coffee and preparing the dessert on a plate.

Kieran remained where he was, watching her at her task. “How are you enjoying working at the restaurant again?”

She shrugged lightly. “It’s okay. Managing the place isn’t exactly my dream job...but my father needs the help, and it’s kind of ingrained in my DNA to work there. I’ve been waiting tables at JoJo’s since I was ten years old. Thankfully the place is still busy and turning a profit. I have a tourist party booked for tomorrow...twenty-four hungry mouths to feed. Friday fun, I like to call it.”