‘You’re through.’ The doctor’s words were simple. Final.

Morning sunlight sifted through the tinted windows, making the view of downtown San Francisco look as though it were encased in some weird shaded fog. Which was just how Jon Candellano felt. As if his brain were shrouded in mist. He’d heard the other man’s words; they just weren’t completely registering.

Because he didn’t want them to.

But he couldn’t ignore the situation forever.

Jon looked up at his doctor and saw something in the man’s eyes he didn’t want to see. Pity. Well, shit. A cold, hard knot formed in his guts and he fought to keep it from spreading. Hell of a way to start off a morning. Scraping one hand along the back of his neck and stalled for time. Time to adjust to the reality that was about to deliver a sucker punch to his life. He’d known this was coming, though, so it really wasn’t a sucker punch, was it? More like a body slam.

Somehow he’d just known it. His knee didn’t feel a hundred percent, despite the physical therapy.

Still, it was a hard thing to face. Deliberately misunderstanding the man, Jon gave him a winning smile and said, ‘Through you said. For this reason, right?’

‘For good, if you’re smart.’ The orthopedic surgeon shook his head, took a seat behind his desk, and folded his hands atop the file folder that contained Jon’s life.

‘Look, Jon, your knee, to put it simply, is more plastic than bone now. Take a hit the wrong way and you’re in serious trouble. You blow it out again and best-case scenario, you’re looking at using a cane for the rest of your life.’

Unconsciously Jon reached down and rubbed his kneecap protectively. It felt okay at the moment. Sure. While you’re sitting. What about running down the field with some three-hundred pound maniac chasing you?

Different story.  Hell, he’d been taking hits on the field since junior high. But the thought of taking another hit to a knee that had already been blown out was enough to make him cringe. And a man who didn’t want to be tackled had no business being on a football field.

But Christ, he’d been playing to a crowd since Pop Warner Football. How would he live without that? Without all of it? The sound of applause, the jolt of excitement he got every damn time he walked into a football stadium, the slaps on the back and the looks of pride that followed him whenever he went home.

Man, just listen to yourself.

Damn, but he was a petty man.

Jon’s gaze settled on the doctor’s face and he realised there was more the other man wasn’t saying. Hell, what else was there? But he had to know all of it. It was like staring at a traffic accident. You didn’t really want to see anything, but you just couldn’t stop yourself from looking. ‘And worst case?’

‘Wheelchair.’

Instantly an image of himself, freewheeling around Chandler, snarling at people who had the nerve to remind him of his heydays, kids throwing sticks into the spokes of his chair, filled his mind. Hell.

Sinking back into the rich leather armchair opposite his doctor, Jon scraped both hands across his face, took a deep breath, and mentally said goodbye to professional football. Though he’d known this was coming eventually, it didn’t make it any easier to swallow now that it had. On the other hand, he wasn’t a kid anymore. He was thirty-two, right? He’d had a good career. Made a lot of money. Traveled. And running backs didn’t usually have too long a life span anyway.

The knot in his guts twisted a little tighter. He could paint this any way he wanted. Bottom line, though… somebody’d just pulled the rug out from under his life.

And he didn’t have a clue as to what he’d do next.

Looking at the doctor, he said, more to himself than the other man. ‘So. What exactly does a pro ballplayer do when he can’t play ball?’

Bella sat at the kitchen table, wadded up her third Kleenex, and tossed it at the trash can. Neat. Even in her misery, Bella’s personality shone through. She had always been a woman who believed in a place for everything and everything in its place.

Unlike Dane, who believed that wherever something landed, that obviously was its place.

‘So, tell me,’ Dane said, and pushed the cookie bag closer to her sister-in-law.

‘We had a horrible fight last night.’ Then she thought about that for a minute, raised teary eyes to look at Dane, and amended. ‘Well, I had a horrible fight. Brendon just stood there. He wouldn’t even yell at me.’

A bad sign.

When an Italian didn’t yell, that was not good.

Dane sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her middle. Fingers plucking at the material of her sweatshirt, she kept quiet, with difficulty and waited for Bella to continue. It didn’t take long.

‘I told him I wanted to know where he was going three nights a week.’ She snagged a cookie, took a bite, chewed and swallowed. ‘Told him that I wasn’t going to let him make a fool out of me.’

‘All good,’ Dane assured her.

‘Yes, but he didn’t say anything.’ She tossed the cookie to the table, jumped up from her chair and paced the kitchen. The heels of her sandals clicked furiously on the linoleum. ‘Nothing important anyway.’

‘What did he say, exactly?’

‘He said that I should trust him.’

‘Ah, the standard return-fire volley.’

‘What?’

‘Never mind. Anything else?’

Bella pushed one hand through her auburn hair, and when that hair then fell back into place perfectly, Dane felt an inward sigh of admiration.

‘He said he loved me, but he wasn’t going to explain himself. That he shouldn’t have to.’

‘Oh, that’s great.’ Dane shook her head and sat forward again, leaning her forearms on the table. ‘And if it was you taking off three times a week, he wouldn’t ask questions? He’d just trust you? Not expect an explanation?’

‘That’s what I said.’

‘Of course you did!’ Dane nearly shouted. ‘It’s logical. Reasonable.’

Bella came to a stop beside the sink. Curling her fingers around the edge of the counter, she held on tightly, her knuckles whitening, as if her grip on that chipped Formica was the only thing holding her on to the planet. She stared out the window at the yapping puppies and said quietly, ‘Then he left.’

Dane simmered quietly inside. Looking at the other woman’s pain was enough to make her want to strangle the big brother she’d always loved so much. How could he be such an idiot? And what was she going to do about it?

The phone rang and Dane jumped, glaring at it.

Now was not a good time. Her sister-in-law turned and looked at the ringing phone as if it were a snake poised to leap across the room and sink its fangs into her. Dane knew how she felt.

‘God, I hate that thing. Just a minute, Bella. Whoever it is, I’ll get rid of ‘em.’ She stalked across the room, snatched up the receiver, and snapped, ‘What?’

‘Dane? This is how you answer a phone?’

She sighed and turned around, shrugging helplessly at Bella. ‘Hi Mama.’

Bella’s eyes went wide and she shook her head, pointing at her own chest. Thankfully, Dane was an expert at desperate pantomime. Bella didn’t want mama knowing she was there.

‘Was that a sigh?’ her mother’s voice demanded.

‘What?’

‘You sighed. I heard you.’

‘Ears like a hawk,’ Dane muttered.

‘What was that?’

‘Nothing.’ She pushed one hand through her hair. ‘What’s up Mama?’

‘Is Bella there? I thought I saw her car.’

‘Bella?’ Dane shot the other woman a look and winced as she shrugged and said, ‘Yes, Bella’s here.’

Her sister-in-law threw both hands wide and looked toward heaven for help. Dane could have told her from experience that it wasn’t coming. The only one ‘up there’ who would be interested in helping any of them was Papa – and he was too busy enjoying the distance between him and mama to leap into the fray.

‘I’m coming over to see the baby.’

‘What?’ Dane shook her head and reminded herself to pay attention. When talking to Mama, it paid to have all your marbles lined up straight. If her mother showed up and saw Bella crying, there’d be no stopping her from jumping in and running down to the sheriff’s office to slap Brendon upside the head. Which wasn’t altogether a bad idea, she told herself. But before she brought in the big guns, she wanted to know exactly what was going on. Key to that was stopping Mama.

‘No,’ she said quickly, ‘Tina’s not here. She’s with—‘ Dane looked to Bella.

‘Debbie,’ the other woman muttered.

‘She’s with Debbie.’

‘That teenager with the headphones?’ Mama’s voice went up a notch. ‘All the time she’s listening to singers. How can she hear Tina if she cries?’

Dane sighed again.

‘I heard that.’

Dane’s forehead hit the wall. ‘Mama, Tina’s fine. I’m fine. Bella’s fine.’

Her mother sniffed. ‘So fine then.’

Great. She had one woman in her kitchen, crying and another woman on the phone, offended. Well, if she had to pick one to deal with at a time, and she definitely had to choose, she’d pick the one standing in front of her.

‘Did you want something, Mama?’

‘I wanted to tell you I like your young man.’

Instantly worries about Bella slipped into second place in her mind as Dane saw where her mother was headed. ‘He’s not my ‘young man’. Heck, he’s not a young man, period.’

‘He’s too old for you?’

‘I didn’t say that, I—‘

‘It’s because he has a child you don’t want him?’

‘Of course not.’ Insulted, Dane stood up straighter and tightened her grip on the phone. ‘Reese is a sweetheart.’

‘So why don’t you like him?’

‘I do like him—‘ Dane shot a glance at Bella and didn’t know whether to scream or be grateful. For the first time since walking in the front door, the other woman was smiling. All it took was Dane being tortured to ease Bella’s misery.

‘Good. I’m having him over for dinner tomorrow night. You should come.’

‘Mama, don’t invite him for dinner.’ She reached up and rubbed her forehead, but it was like trying to fight off a nuclear missile attack with a flying swatter.

‘He has to eat.’

‘Not with me.’

‘Why not with you? You need a man; he needs a woman…’

Oh, for God’s sake. ‘Well what’re you waiting for? Book the church!’

Behind her, Bella snorted out a laugh.

‘Don’t be smart,’ Mama said.

‘Mama, I don’t need help finding a man. I just don’t want one.’

She heard her mother take in a long, protracted breath before releasing it again in a rush. ‘You told me you weren’t gay.’

Help me. Mentally, she screamed. But somehow, she managed to keep her voice steady and even as she said, ‘Mama, I have to go.’

‘Go where?’

Anywhere.

‘Bella and I…’ her mind raced, then settled on an acceptable excuse— ‘are going shopping.’

‘Fine. So buy a nice dress to wear for dinner.’

Her mother hung up before she could argue again, and a dial tone told Dane that Mama had won that round.

Dane actually winced as she pulled her fingers back from the phone. But problems with Mama could come later. Right at the moment, there were other pots to stir.

Turning around, she looked at Bella, and the other woman said, ‘Looks like we’ve all got our troubles.’

‘Don’t even go there,’ Dane told her. ‘I’ll worry about Mama later. Have you ever considered following Brendon when he leaves?’

Bella shook her head fiercely and folded her arms across her summer yellow tank top. ‘No way. I don’t want to see him with his girlfriend, the home wrecking, husband-stealing bitch. It’s hard enough to imagine it.’

Dane guessed she could understand that. However, she wouldn’t have any trouble at all facing down her brother and whatever female he was doing whatever he was doing with. ‘All right,’ she said, ‘I’ll follow him. What nights does he go out and what time does he leave?’

Frank stared down at his daughter’s mutinous face and held back a groan of frustration. For such a little thing, she could really put a lot of disapproval into a glare.

‘Reese, baby,’ he tried again, still futilely hoping that a six-year old could be reasoned with, ‘we can’t go see the puppies.’

Her little arms snapped across a narrow chest and her brow furrowed. She sighed heavily, unwound her arms, and mimed picking up a puppy and holding it to her face.

‘I know you want to see them, but they’re not your puppies. We can’t just go over there anytime you want to.’

She nodded so vigorously, one of her pink barrettes flew out of her hair and clattered on the wood floor.

‘Fine. I know Dane said you could come and see the dogs, but—‘ he was talking to the back of her head as she walked toward the front door. Two long steps and he’d caught her. Taking her arm in a gentle grip, he turned her around to face him. Frank went down on one knee so they were at eye level, and he studied those solemn but determined blue eyes so much like his own.

She was in there. God knows she had no trouble making her wishes – well, demands – known. Why wouldn’t she talk to him? Why wouldn’t she let him inside, beyond the walls that she’d built since that night a year ago?

Reese laid her small hands atop his and tugged. Frank’s heart ached, and not for the first time a threat of panic unwound inside him. If he couldn’t reach her… if he couldn’t get her to talk to him…

Resolutely he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind where they simmered constantly, occasionally erupting into a forth of desperation. He would get through to her. He couldn’t lose Reese. Time was running out. Just last night, his mother-in-law had called again, reminding him that if he didn’t find a way into Reese’s silent, she might be lost to him forever.

‘Ah, baby, why won’t you talk to daddy?’ he whispered, and he watched her eyes darken. Secrets lurked in their depths and he wished to God she’d let him help. Pain rippled through him. He sighed, swallowed, and said, ‘It’s okay, Reese. It’s okay. You can talk to me when you’re ready. I’ll be here. Always.’

She nodded slowly, keeping he solemn gaze locked with his.

He only hoped she was ready to talk before the end of summer.

Reaching out, he swiped his fingers across the silky strands of blond hair lying across her forehead. She gave him a tentative smile as if she knew he was weakening. And damn it, he was. That smile along should have been enough to convince him to race his daughter across the road. A smile. Laughter. Hell, she’d reacted more to the puppies – and to Dane – than she had to anything else in the last year. So if he has any sense, Frank told himself, he’d be using whatever he could in his campaign to bring his daughter back to him.

Even if that meant spending time with a woman who touched places inside him he’d thought were long dead.

Two hours later, Dane tried to reclaim some of her morning. But not even playing with the puppies could completely ease the turmoil raging in her brain.

When had her world shifted so out of control?

It was as if she were living in one of those little glass snow globes and some unseen giant hand had given it a good shake. And she didn’t like it. She preferred things as they’d been for the last two years. Predictable. Safe.

But instead, she had her brothers worrying her, and a little girl with lost eyes, and the girl’s father – who managed to light wildfires in her body with a glance. And then there was Mama. ‘She told me to buy a dress. I don’t do dresses. And she knows it.’ She looked over at Abbey. ‘Why me?’

Disgusted, Dane plopped down onto the wet grass, drew her knees up to her chest, and focused her gaze on the puppies, splashing through the sprinkler. Bath time always began with a free-for-all. The puppies got to play and she got them all wet at once. One thing about goldens – they loved water. Despite her whirling thoughts, Dane laughed as the puppies tripped over their own feet and climbed all over one another and her to get closer to the water source. Abbey sat to one side, like a canine lifeguard, watching her children with a patient eye.

‘Morning.’

Her stomach jittered at the sound of his voice. Well, this is good, she thought. Nothing like having a gorgeous man see you when you’re soaking wet and covered with muddy puppy paw prints. Sure. Why not? The morning was on a downhill slide already. Facing the inevitable, Dane glanced over her shoulder at Frank and his daughter, right beside him.

Her heart did a weird little bump and roll and she wasn’t sure if it was caffeine deprivation or the sight of Frank Iero. She hadn’t had nearly enough coffee this morning, but she had a feeling this particular reaction was pure Frank. His dark hair was windblown and he wore a forest green t-shirt that clung to the chest that only last night had had a starring role in her dreams. His blue jeans were well worn and did amazing things for his long legs.

Blood pumped, breath staggered, heartbeat trip-hammered.

Oh yeah. She was in fine shape. She blew out an unsteady breath and told her hormones to take a nap. Or a cold shower, whichever was quickest. A sense of self-preservation had her shifting her gaze to the child standing alongside him. Her little Scooby-Doo tennis practically danced in place in her eagerness to get to the puppies. Her hair still looked bedraggled, but there was a shine in her eyes that hadn’t been there just two weeks ago.

Dogs. Little miracles, Dane thought. Without even trying, they gave love that reached out to whoever needed it most. And Reese obviously needed it. She still wasn’t speaking, but since that first magical morning when she’d laughed, she’d seemed a little less shut off. A little more ‘connected.’

No wonder her father was warming up to the idea of allowing the kid to play with the dogs – despite the fact that it meant spending time with Dane. Even he could see that the pups were making a difference in his daughter’s life.

‘Hello?’ Frank said. ‘Earth to Dane.’

She blinked up at him, laughed and said, ‘Sorry. Zoned out there for a minute.’

Frank didn’t mind. Her distraction had given him an extra minute or two to simply look at her. No woman had a right to look that good wet and muddy. She smiled and her face lit up, her dark brown eyes sparkled, and something inside him yearned to be there in the mud beside her. Preferably naked.

Micaela never would have rolled around in the grass with a cluster of puppies climbing all over her. But then, Dane Candellano was unlike any other woman he’d ever met.

Which was as good a reason as any for him to keep his distance. Yet here he stood. He couldn’t seem to stay away from Dane any more than his daughter could bear to be separated from these puppies. And that probably explained why he’d agreed to have dinner with the Candellanos again tomorrow night. It was simply another excuse to be near Dane.

Reese tugged at his hand, trying for freedom, but he held her tight. ‘Your mother came over this morning.’

Dane’s chin hit her chest. ‘I know. She called. You know, you don’t have to say yes when she comes up with one of her plans.’

‘I wanted to say yes. I like your mother.’ And you, he added silently.

‘Oh.’

Not exactly an enthusiastic response. A little uncomfortable now, he said, ‘Look, I’ll understand if you’re not exactly pleased to see me today, but I’d appreciate it if you’d let Reese and me help with’ – he waved a hand at the puppy balancing itself against Reese’s right leg—‘whatever it is you’re up to.’

She flipped her hair behind her back. ‘It’s bath day.’

Reese pulled away and this time he let her go. He watched as she dropped to the ground and gathered the puppy in close, laughing as the tiny dog wriggled its wet little body against her.

‘For them or you?’ he asked, smiling at the sound of his daughter’s laughter. But as he studied Dane, that smile faded. Her long dark curls were gathered into a ponytail on top of her head, but the ringlets hug wet and black down to her shoulders. Her t-shirt clung to her breasts, outlining the lace of her bra and molding itself to her figure. Her gray sweat shorts were soaking wet and those long legs of hers looked tan and luscious enough to fuel daydreams designed to taunt a man. And that silver toe ring seemed to wink at him in the sunlight.

She pushed a long wet strand of hair out of her eyes and said, ‘I’ll answer that, wise guy, as soon as you tell me why I wouldn’t want to see you today.’

One eyebrow lifted. ‘Well,’ he said, remembering how it had been when he and Micaela had had their legendary arguments, ‘I figured after last night, you’d need some time to cool down.’ Micaela had always needed days. And expensive presents.

Dane laughed. ‘Are you serious?’ shaking her head, she set the puppy aside and reached for the hose. Scrambling to her feet, she added, ‘For an Italian, yelling just means you’re alive.’

‘Is that right?’ tension he didn’t know he was carrying unwound inside him, and he smiled as he watched her waving the sprinkler end of the hose.

‘Oh yeah. So.’ she swung the sprinkler close toward him and asked, ‘You alive?’

‘You wouldn’t.’ but he backed up a step just in case.

Dane laughed. ‘Never dare a Candellano.’

He closed his eyes as the water hit his face.

That night, Dane prowled restlessly through her house. Her nuked half-eaten frozen dinner sat abandoned on the kitchen table and the TV sounded from the living room. Some game show host was snidely pronouncing her contestants Too Stupid To Live and Dane didn’t care enough to go in there and shut the rude woman off.

She turned her back, leaned one hip against the counter, and stared at the kitchen. ‘I guess I could clean.’ Abbey cocked her head as if surprised by the suggestion. Dane laughed. ‘Yeah. I’m not that bored.’

And it wasn’t really boredom clawing at her anyway. It was something else. Something she hadn’t felt in way too long. Heat pulsed inside her, warming her blood and clouding her mind. That had to be the reason why it suddenly seemed like such a good idea to run across the road to ask Frank if she could borrow a cup of sex.

‘Oh, man.’

A knock at the door brought her upright. Hey. Maybe it’s him maybe he’s just as needy as she was right now. Maybe—‘Hell, Dane,’ she muttered, stalking across the kitchen, ‘just open the door.’

‘Well, it’s about time,’ the woman on the porch announced. ‘Is this any way to treat the bearer of coconut rum?’

‘Jess!’ Jess Tarn, girlfriend extraordinaire. Tall, brown, with a great body, which was, just now, sporting a gorgeous Caribbean tan, she was the kind of woman other woman usually hated, just on general principals. But Jess was also the best kind of friend. She’d tell you exactly what you needed to hear. Whether you wanted to hear it or not. ‘You’re back!’

‘Well,’ she said, ‘to coin a phrase, duh.’

Jess leaned forward, gave her a quick kiss, then carried her bag of goodies straight through the house to the kitchen. ‘Hi, Ab. I brought you a present too.’

The big dog woofed then snatched the squeaky rubber palm tree out of the air when Jess tossed it to her.

‘And what’d you bring me?’ Dane asked, watching her friend pull bottle after bottle out of her bag. God, she’d missed having Jess to talk to. But with Frank here, Dane had to admit the two weeks her best friend had been gone has passed a lot faster than they would have without him around.

Jess flashed her a wicked smile. ‘I picked up a new favourite drink on that cruise. And being the wonderful human being that I am, I’ve decided to share. I brought coconut rum and all the fixings for a fabulous girls’ night in.’

It did sound fabulous. ‘Just what I need.’

‘That’s not that I hear,’ Jess said, uncapping the first bottle.

‘Huh?’

‘Good one.’ The tall brown grinned and said, ‘I wasn’t home fifteen minutes and I was hearing all about you and Mr. Wonderful across the street.’

‘Oh, crap.’

‘Virginia says he’s a Mafia informer.’

‘Perfect.’

‘Rachel says he loved her tuna-pineapple slop.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘And your mother says he’s your new boyfriend.’

‘Good God.’

‘So which is it?’

‘Would you believe none of the above?’

‘Nope.’ She reached down Dane’s blender from the top shelf. Then, walking to the fridge, she opened the freezer, took out the ice bucket, and plunked some into the blender. ‘Girl, any man who can get all these women talking is one I’ve got to meet.’

‘Why?’ Dane asked, suspicion colouring her tone.

‘Oooh,’ Jess countered, smiling, ‘territorial. So tell me, have you two done the ugly yet?’

‘No,’ damn it, ‘and we’re not going to.’

‘Uh-huh. That was convincing. How bad do you want him?’

‘Oh,’ Dane admitted, ‘bad Jess. I want him really bad.’

He couldn’t breathe. That was the first thing he noticed, he fumbled in his pocket for his inhaler, squirting the vapors into his lungs he tried to take a deep breath. He waited for the tightness in his chest to dissipate; instead it seemed to be getting worse. He tried again to fill his lungs and choked on air. Trying the inhaler again, he coughed violently as the vapors entered his lungs. His chest was getting tighter, the muscles in his throat constricting. He lapsed into a panicked shallow pant that did nothing but increase the noose-like sensation around his neck. He was getting lightheaded, dizzy, and more frightened by the second. He backed against the wall of the bus trying to keep the small room from spinning. Trying to stay calm and failing miserably, Mike fell to his hands and knees as sparks of pain shot through his chest and black dots danced at the corners of his eyes. There was a ringing in his ears, he could hear the pained sounds he was making as he tried to force much needed air into his lungs.

“Mikey!” his brother’s voice cut through the veil of fear around him. Two lean muscled arms wrapped around his heaving chest pulling him towards Gerard’s warm torso.

“Hey, I gotcha’ lil’ bro, I’m right here, breathe. Breathe. Mikey, its okay, I’m right here.” Gerard’s soft whispers murmured reassuringly into Michael’s ear. Mike felt his brother slip his inhaler between his lips, “Deep breath.” He did and finally felt the horrid tightness begin to lessen. His agonized gasps subsided into shallow even breaths and with another dose from the inhaler he was breathing normally. His brother was still talking to him, his breathing soft and even; Mike could feel Gerard’s strong heartbeat against his back. The fear disappeared and a languid calm replaced it. He felt his eyelids grow heavy and in a few minutes was sleeping peacefully against his brother.

“Is he okay now? Should I call 9-1-1 or something?” Frank’s voice was shaky and thin with fear.

Frank was opposite of Gerard huddled against the wall, arms wrapped protectively around his torso. He was scared, Mike’s little episodes always scared him, but this one sent him into a panic. Frank had never seen Mike have and asthma attack like that before, he was surprised he was forming coherent thoughts. Shaking and hugging himself tighter he watched Gerard calmly talk his brother into breathing again.
Usually when Mike’s asthma acted up he took a whiff of his inhaler and he was good as new. Though there were a few times he’s sat down and asked one of the guys to find Gerard, those were pretty scary for the guys but he’d never actually *stopped breathing*.

Frank began shaking all over again as he remembered the glazed look in his friends eyes. Frank had run out of the bus at a full sprint all the way to the stage where Gerard, Bob, and Ray were finishing an interview. He still wasn’t sure what exactly he said, but whatever garbled incoherent words he sputtered had gotten Gerard’s attention and he had followed Frank back to the bus.

Mike’s breath hitched, sending another wave of adrenaline through Frank’s heart. Gerard didn’t bat an eye, but he did turn towards Frank who was having something akin to an anxiety attack.

“Frank, its okay, he’s fine.” Gerard kept his voice velvety, Frank jumped. “Frankie, c’mon its okay.” Gerard carefully shifted his brother to his left side with Mike’s head resting comfortably on his thigh. Mumbling something unintelligible Mike relaxed and stretched out. Frank was still huddled on the other side of the bus looking more and more like a scared animal.
Gerard leaned back against the wall softly stroking his brother’s hair; he knew Mike was fine, now he had to work on calming the terrified guitarist.

“Seriously Frank, I’d go over there but Mike’s a little heavier than he looks.” A small smile flickered across Frank’s face for half a second. Timidly he took a small step towards Gerard and Mike. Very slowly Frank made his way over to the pair and sat down carefully watching Mike the entire time. Gerard reached over and with a small yelp Frank was practically dragged into the singer’s warm embrace. Frank stiffened at the sudden contact, but carefully relaxed resting his head lightly against Gerard’s shoulder. Frank was still shaking when he heard a shuddering breath and tensed, when he felt hot tears stinging the back of his eyes he realized the strained gasps were coming from him.

“Frankie, its okay, he’s alright.” Gerard carefully pulled the young guitarist closer; Frank buried his head into Gerard’s shoulder still crying quietly. After a few minutes his quiet tears subsided and were replaced by deep and even breaths.
Carefully, Gerard reached for his phone, silently flipping it open he found Ray’s number and called.

“Hey, can you come out to the bus?” Gerard’s voice was still silken and soft.

“Gerard? Why are you whispering?”

“Frank and Mike are asleep.”

“Oh. Hey, while we’re sitting here covering for your ass, mind telling me something I can give to the press about your sudden disappearance.” Gerard cringed, he’d forgotten about the press.

“Mikey had an asthma attack.”

“Oh sh-“

“He’s okay now, but he and Frank are sleeping on me so could you…”

“Yeah, I’ll be there, give me five minutes.”
Gerard closed his phone and let the tension slowly drain from his body. Mike hadn’t scared him like that in a long time. He looked down at his little brother and gently ran his fingers through his medium length hair. Frank shuddered and snuggled to Gerard whimpering. Gerard absently began singing a strange melody he’d been trying to work out, Frank relaxed and with a sigh fell deeper into sleep. Shifting to a more comfortable position Gerard eventually sang himself to sleep.



“Hey, Gee, wake up.” Gerard’s eyes fluttered open with the gentle shake that accompanied the soft voice. Sleepy eyes met amused as Bob stood back from the singer.

“C’mon Gee, you got an hour to make yourself presentable to the public.” Bob stuck his hand out to help the singer up. Gratefully Gerard took it.

“What’d you guys do with Mike and Frank?” Gerard looked around searching for the pair.

“We just got here, Frank and Mike were already awake, they’re in the back getting ready.”

“You just got back?” Gerard looked at his watch, “what happened to five minutes?”
Ray stuck his head out of the bunk section scowling, “Once they heard Mike had an asthma attack they wouldn’t let us go. I mean seriously, how many questions can you ask about asthma?” Gerard gave his friend a one armed hug, “I owe you guys.”

“Nah, but don’t blame me if there’s a rumor of you having eleven toes tomorrow.” Ray ducked the pillow Gerard chucked at him and scurried to the instrument section of the bus cackling.
The quiet atmosphere of the bus was soon hyped with anticipation of the upcoming show. Mike had fully recovered from his attack and Frank seemed to have found himself again too. Gerard was twice as hyper with a twenty minute nap, Bob and Ray watched in amusement as their band mates practically vibrated with energy. Finally they left the bus to head backstage, on the way there the friends went through the song order, harassed each other, and just generally acted like a bunch of six year olds on Mountain Dew.

Getting their gear tuned, mics checked, and earpieces set the band could hear the crowd roaring. They sounded like a freight train passing through a tunnel, “Jesus, they’re loud!” Ray was peeking through one of the stage entrances at the packed venue.

“What?” Frank paused next to him and looked as well.

“I said, *they’re loud*!”

“Ohh.” Ray and Frank listened to the insane screaming of the crowd until it was time to line up.

Walking on to the stage Mike was amazed at the sound, it was like backstage had been soundproofed and now they were getting the full effect. He thought they were at top volume as the band was walking out but when they started ‘Disenchanted’ the volume increased tenfold. Throughout the show Mike lost Gerard’s voice several times in each song as the crowd took over. When the beginning notes of ‘I’m Not Okay’ started he lost Gerard altogether for the entire song and most of the next one.

Two songs from the end Mike felt a familiar and dreaded tightening sensation pulse through his chest. Gerard was talking, well actually screaming, to the crowd before the next song started; quickly he pulled out his inhaler and was relieved to feel the tightness disappear. Frank gave him a worried look from across the stage, Mike flashed him a smile and Frank relaxed.

At the start of the last song, ‘Cancer’ a surge of constricting pain ripped through his chest and neck making him cough violently. Trying to take a deep breath he felt like he was breathing through a coffee stirrer. Gasping and trying to stay conscious through the short song Mike’s vision tunneled. The shallow gasps he was taking wasn’t giving him the air he needed, he closed his eyes trying to force his throat to open. He was getting dizzy and he felt heavy, there was only one chord left, once he hit that he could go backstage to the paramedics.

Mike almost unconsciously played the last note; before he blacked out he heard a harsh discordant sound force itself through his oxygen deprived brain. ‘What the he-‘ he was playing the wrong note, a very wrong note ‘shit!’ his chord was clashing horridly with everyone, he wasn’t even remotely close, if Bob had been playing it probably would have rubbed his notes too. Mike felt darkness forcing itself on his mind; he couldn’t remember the right note and was to far gone to even consider finding a compliment to the other chords.
Doing a total improve on the fly Ray and Frank began a crazy duet trying to find a chord that matched the bass. Gerard dropped out turning towards his brother on the other side of the stage, Bob jumped in with an insane, stick-breaking rhythm. Finally Ray and Frank fixed the rub and with a poignant guitar harmony the show ended.

Mike’s bass was heavy; he couldn’t remember it being that heavy when they walked on stage. He was supposed to be doing something, but everything was black, there was a throbbing agony in his chest as his lungs begged him for air. There was loud roaring in his ears, he knew what it was, but it was too much effort to call the memory. His stomach did 360’s as the feeling of falling overtook him. When his head met the stage some of the fog lifted enough for him to realize he’d stopped breathing entirely, then sharp pains cascaded through his chest and he let himself slip into the dark.


When the dark began to fade and finally disappeared Mikey was aware of only the loud annoying beeping and his massive headache. Said beeping sound was like a pile driver in his skull, he groaned and tried to cover his ears. But something heavy was holding his left side down, cautiously opening his eyes Mikey turned and saw messy black hair that rested gently on his brother’s pale cheek, his dark lashes fluttered like moth wings as Gerard slowly woke up. Gerard looked at Mikey for a full five seconds before his tired mind seemed to comprehend that his brother was looking back at him.
Gerard snapped awake, “Mikey, are you okay?” Gerard’s voice was quiet and filled with worry.

“Fine.” Mike winced as his voice rasped painfully, “Where are we?”

“Hospital, you had an acute asthma attack and passed out on stage.” Mike grimaced, that explained the headache and dry throat. He noticed his brother was paler than usual and there were dark smudges under his eyes. “How long have I been out?”

“Only a few hours, they got you here around nine or something, why?”

“You look exhau- Oh; you haven’t washed your makeup off.” Gerard gave him a wry smile and placed a butterfly kiss on his forehead, “Go back to sleep Mikey, you need it.” Mike stuck his tongue out, but let exhaustion take over and fell back into the dark.


The next time Mike woke his headache was gone and he heard what sounded like Ray and Frank quietly arguing with someone in a corner of the room. He turned towards the voices and saw Gerard glaring at Frank and Ray, Ray had a vein throbbing in his forehead, and Frank was fully returning his brother’s murderous look. Mikey had the sinking feeling this had been going on for some time.

“Gee, you’ve been here all night, you need to get some actual sleep.” Ray looked like he was going to strangle him.

“And when’s the last time you ate?” Frank was still glaring at him. Gerard was more stubborn that a mule when he wanted to be. Mike frowned and decided to break up the argument before they tried to kill each other.

“Uh, guys?” His throat didn’t hurt as much as it had but he wasn’t going to push it. Keeping his voice at something a little louder than a whisper he wasn’t surprised when Gerard was the only one to notice. The angry tension left his brother’s body immediately, Ray still looking thoroughly pissed turned to see what Gerard was looking at.

“Hey Mikey.” Ray sounded relieved. Frank turned to look and instantly lit up at seeing his friend awake.

“Hey Mikey!” Yeah, he definitely was happy to see him. Mikey smiled at the exuberant guitarist and turned a disapproving look on his brother.

“What?” Gerard had a confused look on his face.

“When is the last time you ate?” Gerard’s confused look turned into a scowl. Very carefully Mike sat up, he was still a little dizzy but he tried to hide it, if Gerard thought anything was off he’d never go. Crossing his arms he returned his brother’s scowl, “Two hours. Then you can come back and spend all the time you want in here.” Mike’s voice was soft and still a little hoarse but he knew his brother would hear him. Gerard didn’t budge and glared at him, Mike glared back. They stayed like that communicating silently Ray and Frank forgotten until, with a sigh Gerard looked at the door.

“Fine, two hours.” He walked over to Mike and kissed his temple and then, almost regally he glided out the door past Ray and Frank. Frank looked at him with something akin to awe on his face, “How do you do that?” Mike laughed quietly, “You just have to know how to deal with ‘em.”

“I’m gonna deal with ‘em” Ray still had a scowl on his face and was glaring at the door. Mike gave him a bemused look, “What were you guys arguing about?”

“He’s just bein’ his usual stubborn self. He’s gonna be the next one in here if he doesn’t start taking care of himself!” Ray started to rant and Mike grimaced, his brother was notorious for forgetting important things like, eating, sleeping, and staying hydrated when his mind was on something.

“Ray…Ray, Ray!”

“Huh? What?”

“I’ll talk to him, he’s just worried.”

“We’re worried too.” Frank settled next to Mike on the bed, “I know, I honestly don’t know what happened.” Mike stared at the wall in front of him, he didn’t know why all of a sudden his body was hell-bent on putting him six feet under but it scared him. Suddenly he wished Gerard was there, he knew he was safe if he had another attack but he felt vulnerable without him. He hadn’t had a sever asthma attack in years, much less two in one day. He didn’t realize how badly he was shaking until Frank’s warm body snuggled closer to him, “we’re not gonna let anything happen to ya’ Mikey.”

“I seriously don’t know what happened, I took the medicine, used my inhaler…”

Ray walked over to the bed, bad mood forgotten, “Hey chill Mikey, its nothing you did, like Frankie said, we’re not gonna let anything hurt you. Even if it’s the air you’re supposed to breathe.” Mike cracked a smile at Ray’s weak attempt at humor. Still he couldn’t stop shaking, he just wanted to curl up at his home with a good book and forget about everything for awhile. But if he had another attack…a shiver of fear ran down his spine, he didn’t want to be alone, he silently wished for time to speed up, for Gerard’s two hours to be up and to see him come striding through the door. ‘He’ll be back, probably an hour early, you know he won’t leave you alone for long.’ Mike’s mind reasoned with him but he was still afraid, he leaned further into Frank who wrapped his arms protectively around the bassist. Frank desperately tried to think of something to distract his terrified friend, when the door opened all three looked over to see Bob walk into the room.

“Hey, who wants some real food instead of this hospital crap?” Bob held up two Arby’s bags, Mike gave a shaky laugh, “I do, this shit tastes like cardboard.”


An hour later when Gerard quietly opened the door to his brother’s room he saw Frank sleeping in the same place he’d been last night, Ray and Bob were in the other two chairs in the room dozing lightly. Gerard smirked, ‘now who needs to get some sleep?’ He walked past them over to Mikey who was staring absently at the white wall in front of him lost in thought.

“Mikey.” His voice was the same velvety soft it had been the day before. Mike blinked and looked at him, “You still have forty-five minutes.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“Only if you take me with you.” Mikey felt his hands beginning to shake again. Gerard’s eyes narrowed when he noticed, he was quickly on his brother’s other side. Gerard sat on the bed and carefully pulled his shaking brother into his lap. Mike wrapped his arms around his neck and buried his head into his chest. He felt Gerard’s steady heartbeat and even breathing, his shaking lessened to the occasional tremor.

“I’m right here Mikey. I love you.”

Mike snuggled closer and let the steady thump of his brother’s heart lull him into a calm sleep.

‘Congratulations,’ Dane said, glancing up at him as they walked across the lawn an hour later. ‘You survived Sunday dinner.’

‘It was good.’

‘Well, sure it was good. The food is your reward for surviving through the rest of it.’

He shook his head. ‘Your family is a little…’

‘Nuts?’ she supplied.

‘Overwhelming, I was going to say.’

‘Ah, the polite thing, that was so popular with my mother again.’

Reese, half-asleep, cuddled in close, wrapped her arms around Frank’s neck, and rested her head on his shoulder. With the warm, solid weight of his child pressed against him, Frank kept his steps slow and even and tried to avoid tripping on Abbey as she walked right in front of him and Dane.

Above them, the night sky was star-swept, points of light glittering in the blackness. An almost full moon outshone the stars, though; and laid silver-cast shadows across the yard. The quiet was damn near eerie. He still wasn’t used to it.

Hell, he was accustomed to the wail of sirens, the shriek of car alarms, and even the occasional shout from one of his neighbours down the hall. Back home, the silence in their apartment was almost a relief – escape from the noise of the outside world. But here… the utter stillness only emphasized his daughter’s muteness.

And made him loath the idea of returning to that empty house. Especially after having been surrounded by Candellanos all evening.

To get his mind off the solitude waiting for him, he spoke up. ‘Your mother liked me.’

She chuckled. ‘Don’t take it so personally. Mama’s got her eye out for husband material.’

‘Well,’ he said, ‘she’s a great cook.’

Dane stopped dead, knocked the heel of her hand against her right ear, and stared up at him. ‘Humour? Is my hearing okay? Was that actually a smartass remark?’

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, but Frank managed to hold it in. ‘Hey, I’ve been hanging around you. Must be contagious.’

‘Wow. Another one.’ She grinned up at him, and even in the soft moonlight, she was absolutely amazing-looking. Her black curls flew and danced about her face and she pushed them back with an impatient hand – that he suddenly wanted to grab and cling to. A flash of desire that he was becoming all too familiar with rushed through him again and he called himself an idiot. Hell, he was carrying his sleeping daughter, for God’s sake.

‘Actually,’ Dane was saying, ‘Mama’s trying to fix me up and the pickings around here are pretty slim. Until you showed up, her prime prospect was James Stewart.’

Stunned, Frank just stared at her. ‘You mean the guy at the grocery store? The butcher?’

‘That’s Fabulous James.’

‘Jesus.’

‘Pretty much my reaction.’

‘So, do you want one?’ he asked a moment later, when they’d started walking again.

‘One what?’

‘Husband.’

‘Is that an offer?’

‘No.’

She laughed shortly and he wondered if she found everything so damn funny. Then he remembered that just a few hours ago she was breaking his heart by stoically accepting the complete blame for the loss of a child. No, she wasn’t all laughs. But she damn sure knew how to compartmentalize her life.

‘Just checking,’ she assured him before saying, ‘and to answer your question… no. much to Mama’s everlasting frustration, I’m not in the market for a husband, thanks.’

 Now that should make him feel better. But for some reason, it didn’t. His own marriage had been a disaster, but maybe the cards had been stacked against him right from the beginning. After all, what had he known about family? Someone like Dane, on the other hand, should have every reason to want what she’d grown up with. If he’d come from the kind of family she’d known, maybe lots of things in his life would have been different. He shifted Reese into a better position, enjoyed her sigh of warm breath on his neck, and asked, ‘Any particular reason why?’

Dane shrugged and bent down quickly to pluck a blade of grass from the lawn. As they walked, she shredded the single blade with a concentrated effort.

‘Well, I’m lousy company in the morning – before coffee, that is.’

‘I noticed.’

‘Gee, thanks.’ She shook her head, lifted her gaze to study the sky briefly, and suggested, ‘I don’t play well with others?’

He smiled but shook his head. ‘Not buying that one.’

‘No, huh?’ fingers busy, she thought for a minute or two. ‘Okay, I confess. I was almost married, once.’

‘What happened?’

She tossed the remnant of grass aside tucked her hands into her jeans pockets. ‘He decided to go back to his former fiancée instead.’

‘Busy guy.’

‘Yeah.’ She looked up at him. ‘But he was polite, too. Sent me an invitation to his wedding.’

‘Thoughtful.’

‘Oh, yeah. I declined.’

‘Don’t blame you.’

‘Passed on the baby shower invite, too.’

‘What an idiot.’

Clearly offended, she demanded, ‘Why would I want to go to his wife’s baby shower?’

‘Not you idiot. Him idiot.’

‘Ahh… in that case, you may continue to live.’

‘Good to know.’ They were close now to her drive way. Too close. He wasn’t really ready to say goodnight yet. So he kept talking. ‘I’m guessing the end of your engagement didn’t go over well with your mother?’

She laughed and God, he loved the sound of it. Even Reese didn’t seem to mind, since she slept on, completely comfortable in his arms.

‘Being a good mother, her first instinct was to go kill him for me.’

‘Understandable.’ Hell, Frank wouldn’t mind taking a punch at the guy himself. No matter how she was making light of it, he knew that the man’s betrayal must have cut at her. She was going to marry the man, for chrissakes. She must have loved him.

‘But, when she calmed down, she went into a period of mourning eclipsed only by the time Jon first broke it to her that he didn’t want to become a priest.’ Dane stopped at the edge of her drive and tipped her head back to stare up at him. ‘And she’s been on a search for a replacement fiancé ever since.’

‘Determined woman.’

‘Oh, you have no idea.’ But there was a smile in her voice when she spoke. And that’s what he responded to.

‘Must be nice.’

‘What?’

‘Being loved like that.’

‘I always sort of took it for granted,’ she admitted.

‘But yes, it is. Annoying sometimes, too. Your family isn’t close?’

He hitched Reese a little higher in his arms and laid a protective hand against the small of her back. ‘She’s my family.’

Dane studied his features in the soft, pale light and wondered what had put the flash of pain in his eyes. It was brie. Hardly noticeable. And if she hadn’t already been watching him closely, she probably would have missed it.

As hard as it was to deal with her family at times, she couldn’t imagine having a life without them. Just as she couldn’t imagine what Frank’s life was like. The silence. With only him and Reese in the house, the quiet must be crushing.

‘My folks died when I was a kid,’ he said, his voice a soft rumble that whispered through the air and seemed to attack the hairs at the back of her neck. ‘Went into the system then and got bounced around until I was eighteen.’

She didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry didn’t seem appropriate.

‘I know what you’re thinking, and don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago.’

Distance. They might be standing right next to each other, but there was a distance in his voice that clearly said, ‘Don’t go there’. So she didn’t.

Instead, she glanced up the drive toward her own house, where the front porch light shone like a lighthouse standing on a rocky shore. Ordinarily, after dinner with the Candellanos, she’d be more than ready to crawl into her own nest and veg out with Abbey. The dog, as if reading her mind, trotted halfway up the gravel drive, turned around to face Dane, and sat down, head cocked as she waited.

Tonight, though, Dane wasn’t as eager as usual to be by herself. Frank seemed to be feeling the same way, since he made no move to start walking again.

‘You were really impressive today,’ he said finally, just when she thought they were going to stand in the moonlight in silence forever.

‘What?’

‘You and Abbey. The way you worked together.’ He paused and her stomach rolled over as his gaze locked with hers. ‘It was amazing. Especially knowing why you didn’t want to be out there.’

Okay. Now she was ready to go inside. She didn’t want to talk about that again. In fact, she’d like to pretend she hadn’t told him about it in the first place. She still didn’t understand exactly why she’d told him. Sure, it had felt good at the time, unloading those feelings. Hearing herself talk about it for the first time. But that didn’t change the outcome. And it didn’t change how she felt about it.

Late at night, when she couldn’t sleep, she knew that boy’s face would still swim to the surface of her mind. She’d still see his parents, clinging together, his mother weeping, his father stoically trying to bear the burden no one should have to carry.

That wouldn’t change. Would never change.

She shifted slightly and the soles of her boots scraped across the asphalt, sounding like a dry nervous cough.

‘We didn’t find the guy, remember?’

‘You looked.’

She’s looked for the boy once, too. For all the good it had done anyone.

‘Only because Brendon bullied me into it.’ And at the thought of Brendon came the reminder that she still had to get to the bottom of what was going on with him. Good, she told herself. Focus on your idiot brother. Much better.

‘Bullshit.’

‘Excuse me?’

He shook his head as he watched her. ‘I saw your face when your brother showed up wanting your help. You said you didn’t want to go. But everything inside you was eager to go.’ He reached out to touch her and she almost held her breath, waiting for the brush of his hand against her cheek. But he stopped short, disappointing them both. ‘I saw your face. Your eyes. It was all there, plain for anyone to see.’

‘No,’ she argued, even though she remembered clearly that rush of adrenaline. That had just been instinct. Like a firehouse dog reacting to the sound of the fire alarm. ‘I—‘

‘Dane,’ he interrupted, ‘it’s what you do. It’s who you are.’

‘Not anymore.’ It used to be. It used to be everything to her. But times change. People change. She wasn’t that girl anymore. She wasn’t wide-eyed and filled with the conviction that she could make a difference. She couldn’t cling to a ratty thread of hope anymore. It had frayed in her grasp when she’d needed it most, and there was no getting it back.

‘Who’re you trying to convince?’ he asked. “Me? Or you?’

A spurt of irritation flickered up inside her, then flattened out again. She tossed her hair back from her face and met his gaze squarely. ‘I thought you were a lawyer not a shrink.’

He stiffened. ‘You don’t have to be a shrink to see the obvious.’

‘Really?’ she countered. ‘Good at that, are you? Seeing the obvious?’ Dane didn’t wait for him to answer before adding, ‘Then maybe you can see that I don’t want to talk about this.’

‘Prefer to ignore it and hide?’

She looked up at him and gave a short, harsh laugh.

‘Hello, Pot? This is Kettle. You’re black.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything, but she was damn tired of everyone and their uncles offering her advice on how to ‘get over it.’ So she did what any Candellano would do when attacked.

She fired back.

‘I mean, you’ve got a helluva nerve accusing me of hiding. Keeping your daughter tucked away isn’t the key to bringing her back into the world.’

Fury pulsed inside him. Dane could almost feel the heat of it. Okay, gloves were off now. This could get ugly. A muscle in his jaw twitched and he planted his feet wide apart, as if slipping into a battle stance. She saw in his face just how much he wanted to yell. But his sleeping daughter apparently gave him enough reason to keep his voice low. As if to calm himself as much as comfort his sleeping child, he stroked Reese’s back in long protective stroked.

‘You don’t know anything about my daughter. Or me.’

‘You don’t know me, either,’ she pointed out, ‘but that didn’t stop you from offering advice I didn’t want.’

‘That’s different.’

‘Of course it is,’ she muttered. ‘You’re a guy.’ She wondered idly where all of the nice warm fuzzies had gotten to. How had their friendly conversation dissolved into this?

For the first time in two years, she’d been actually enjoying herself. Talking with Frank did as much for her bruised heart as it did for her hormones. But there was a wall separating them that neither of them was willing – or able, obviously – to cross.

‘Look,’ she said abruptly, interrupting the war with what she hoped would be accepted as truce. ‘We had a good day. Let’s leave it at that, okay?’

And before he could respond one way or the other, Dane stepped around him and headed up the drive. Abbey leaped to her feet and bounced toward the house, trusting that Dane would be following. Her footsteps crunched on the gravel drive as she walked away, feeling considerably lonelier than she had been only a few minutes ago. She felt his gaze locked on her back, and a part of her burned with the heat of his stare.

Hormones, she told herself.

That’s all it was.

Hormones.

Lust. Pure and simple.

In all its glory.

 ‘Dane?’

His voice, low and intimate, stopped her. She steeled herself, then looked back at him over her shoulder. He and his daughter were spotlighted in the moonlight standing as he was, between the patches of shade cast by the nearby trees. They looked so alone that a twinge pinged around Dane’s heart before she could tell herself that it didn’t matter to her. That they – he was only a summer neighbour. A temporary blip on her radar screen.

Yeah, right.

‘What?’

‘You were right, you know.’

‘Ah,’ she said, loving the sound of those words, ‘the way to a woman’s heart.’ She smiled in spite of the turmoil within. ‘Right about what?’

‘It was a good day.’

Then he smiled a little sadly, walked off, and the two of them disappeared into the shadows.

Her morning ritual was ruined.

And it was all his fault.

Grumbling, Dane pulled another Oreo out of the bag, dipped it into her coffee, and took a bite. Abbey looked up at her, hopeful as always.

‘Well, you still love me, anyway.’ Dane popped the last of her cookie into her mouth, then picked up a dog biscuit and flipped it to the golden. Abbey caught it mid flip and crunched contentedly. ‘Of course, you do love me for my wonderful self, or for my biscuits?’

The dog just stared at her. ‘Never mind,’ Dane said. ‘Don’t answer that.’

Then her gaze went directly back to the view that had now effectively ruined her little wake-up ritual.

Frank’s house.

Funny, but she no longer thought of it as the Garvey place. Now it was his. And not just for the duration of the summer, either. Dane had the distinct feeling that from now on she would be looking at that house and wondering what he and Reese were doing. What he was doing. Hell, admit it.

She’d be wondering who he was doing.

Her body reacted to that thought as she’d known it would. Getting all warm and soft in places that had gone too long without being warm and soft. For all the good it was going to do her.

A hell of a thing, she thought. Being raring to cha-cha, so to speak, and having no one to cha-cha with. And dancing alone didn’t sound like much fun.

She propped her feet on the railing in front of her and took another long sip of coffee. The familiar swirl and rush of caffeine buzzed through her system, opening her eyes and shouting, Wake up! At her brain.

Shaking her head, she looked down at Abbey and said, ‘You wouldn’t think it would be so hard to wake up if you never really slept.’

Abbey closed her eyes at that, obviously unmoved by Dane’s predicament.

‘Well, sure. You can sleep. You don’t have one brother cheating on his wife and another brother hiding something about his medical condition.’ But even as she said the words, she knew it was for the lie it was. Okay, fine. She was worried about her brothers. And she was currently hatching a plan to get to the bottom of Brendon’s trouble. But it wasn’t thoughts of her brothers that had kept her up all night.

‘Nope. It was him. Mr. Charm. Or lack thereof.’ Her gaze locked on the silent house across the way from her as if she could see through the wood siding and straight into Frank’s heart. Her dreams had been filled with him. The way he’d been earlier yesterday. When he’d listened to her and sympathized without pitying. When he’d touched her and made her want more. When he’d smiled and she’d read the shine of want in his eyes.

And while she was willing to admit that dreams of Frank Iero were certainly better than nightmares about failing Jamie, neither of those options made for good sleeping.

So she supposed it was a measure of just how on edge she was that when the phone rang she reacted with gratitude rather than the snarl she would usually have felt.

Stepping over the dog, she hurried across the porch, coffee cup in hand, opened the front door, and snatched up the receiver on the second ring.

‘Hello?’

‘Dane…’ a soft, feminine voice, filled with tears.

‘It’s… Bella…’

‘Bella, are you okay?’

‘No. Can I come… over?’

The little gaps between her words were filled with half-sobs that told Dane her sister-in-law was crying. Which meant Brendon was still being an idiot.

‘Of course you can come over,’ she said, her hand tightening on the receiver as if it were Brendon’s neck. ‘I’ll put fresh coffee on.’

When Bella hung up a moment later, Dane just stared at the silent phone for a long minute. Oh, man. Her back teeth ground together and every muscle in her body tightened into fighting stance.

Okay. Here was the solution to her current misery.

Instead of concentrating on her own problems, she’d focus on someone else’s. She’d get details from Bell, then hunt Brendon down like the dog he was and give him both barrels.

That was sure to cheer her right up.

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