Until his world turned upside down.

  Irreversible sensorineural hearing loss. Progressive and incurable, caused by years of exposure to the music he’d loved all his life. He went to several specialists, and the results were always the same. Of course, he could have worked around it, relied on hearing aids for support, changed things in the studio to help himself acclimate...but he didn’t want to make those changes. And he damn well didn’t want pity. Once people knew of his condition, he’d get it, for sure. The risk of losing work, of people questioning his skills because of his hearing loss, quickly became a very real fear.

  He hated the way he felt. Hated the pride that suddenly seemed to define him. Hated feeling as though he would be...judged. And he was ashamed, too. Because a less proud man would have been able to deal with the questions. And would have stayed, would have adapted to the sounds he’d already lost, the ones he’d always taken for granted. Like the whoosh of the wind when he drove down the coast with the window down, the intimacy of a whisper, the patter of soft rain on the roof, a quiet conversation in a crowded room. And those he knew he would likely lose in the future—the music he loved, the roar of a engine motor, the bark of a neighborhood dog... Another man would have learned to live with the diagnosis and adapt, not bail like Sean had...on his career and his life, returning to the place he’d been so eager to get away from so many years earlier.

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  Liam’s voice echoed in his ears as his brother sidled up beside him. Sean shrugged. “Sorry, I was miles away.”

  Liam frowned. “Seems that happens a lot these days.”

  Sean ignored the words and took a few steps, settling on the chair near the window. Kieran moved up next to him and sat down, and Liam spent the next ten minutes talking about the party ceremony and how he expected each of them to say a few words about their father. Kieran, who was one of the most easygoing, likable people on the planet, agreed immediately and Jonah followed suit straight after.

  “So...are you in?” Liam asked.

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  His eldest brother nodded, looked briefly at the other two men in the room and then walked toward the small bar. A minute later they all had a beer in their hands, and Sean sensed a sudden shift in the mood. The door was closed, and he was alone with his three siblings. They were all watching him, he realized. And Kieran looked particularly serious.

  “Is this an intervention?” he asked, one brow cocked.

  Kieran spoke next. “We’re concerned about you. You’re not yourself.”

  “Is that your medical opinion?”

  Kieran sighed heavily. “It’s my opinion as your older brother.”

  Sean sat forward in the chair, straining to hear his brother’s voice. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine,” Kieran said quickly. “You’ve come back home without an explanation, and you’ve holed yourself up in that big house like a hermit.”

  “A hermit?” he scoffed, annoyance curling up his spine. “Hardly. I’m here now.”

  “You’re here because I wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Liam said, and raised both hands. “What happened to you, Sean? You’re not talking and frankly, you look like hell. So, yeah, we’re worried. And so are Mom and Dad. What is it? Did your business go bust? Or did you go through a rough breakup?”

  Sean got to his feet and shook his head. “I sold my very successful business for a wad of cash, and we all know that I don’t do relationships. I just wanted to come home for a while, and I don’t want to get the third degree about it.”

  “And that’s all we get? Some vague response about wanting to come home?”

  He rolled his eyes. Some days he wished he was an only child. “Yes.”

  “I’m not buying it,” Liam said. “You don’t do home. You’re a city boy, Sean. This lumberjack look and a log cabin on the lake are just not you.”

  Sean laughed out loud. What was with everyone’s sudden fascination with his hair and his homecoming? It was ridiculous that they believed he’d come back because his business had gone bad—far from it. He’d sold the studio for an absurdly profitable amount and stopped answering his phone or checking emails because he kept getting offers to work with some big star or another. As for the other thing—to imagine he’d come back to nurse some kind of broken heart. Ridiculous. He’d never been overly invested in any relationship he’d been in—most were fleeting at best.

  “It’s the new me,” he said and ran a hand over his bearded jaw. Kieran and Liam didn’t look convinced, but he was all out of explanations. He just wanted everyone to mind their own damned business. He glanced toward Jonah and noticed that his younger brother was sitting back on the couch, arms crossed. “So, do you have an opinion too?”

  Jonah shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t think it would matter if I did.”

  “You’re right about that,” Sean replied. “Now, if we’re done here, I have to get going. There’s somewhere I have to be.”

  “Good,” Liam said, clearly exasperated. “I hope it’s a date. Might improve your mood.”

  Sean wasn’t about to admit that he hadn’t been on a date, much less had a woman in his bed, for over six months. The less they knew the better. He placed the untouched beer on Liam’s desk. “See you later.”

  “You can’t avoid us forever, Sean,” Kieran said.

  “Want to bet?”

  He turned and strode from the office, giving a half-hearted wave to Connie and headed downstairs. He was halfway across the foyer when he spotted a familiar woman standing in the lobby.

  Leah.

  Someone he’d managed to avoid for three days. Like his day couldn’t get any worse. She held a notepad in one hand and a tape measure in the other, and appeared to be measuring out space by the front window. He recalled she’d said she was doing an art piece for the hotel and figured it had something to do with that. He was about to ignore her and walk through the door when he noticed that his three brothers had followed him downstairs and were standing by the concierge desk.

  He wouldn’t be surprised if one or all of them tailed his car when he left. And his growing irritation at being watched like a hawk amplified the more he thought about it. He simply wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to deal with explanations about his life. He knew his family would suffocate him with their combined need to help him. And he didn’t want help. He’d always done things his own way. Sure, he was an O’Sullivan, but he’d never used the family name or wealth to get what he wanted. He appreciated the ambition his father had driven into him when he was young, but he’d been determined to not ride along on the back of that wealth to make a success of his own life. Even the loan he’d accepted from his father to first purchase the studio had been paid back in full and with interest. He’d always wanted his own legacy...proof that he wasn’t defined by the name he’d inherited.

  But they still believed they could smother him in a blanket of O’Sullivan kindness and consideration. He wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. And he doubted he ever would be. He wasn’t as bound to his birthright as Liam, or as generous and compassionate in nature as Kieran. In fact, the only one who might understand his need to be left alone was Jonah, and he had no intention of spilling his guts to his younger sibling, since a part of him resented the fact that Jonah’s very existence was the reason his parents were now divorced.

  Before he could stop his legs from moving, he was across the foyer and standing a foot away from the most annoying woman on the planet. She wore a knee-length dress, dark in color and made from some sort of stretchy fabric. Teamed with red high-heeled cowboy boots and a fleece-lined denim jacket, it was a look that suited her. He’d worked with creative people for years and admired anyone who pursued their passion. And he noticed several people were looking at her as they passed. She turned as though sensing someone behind her and didn’t hide the surprise in her expression.

  “Oh...hello.”

  He watched her mouth. Her bottom lip was a little fuller than the top, and it was quite alluring. The vivid green of her eyes made a riveting combination with the dark lashes and steeply arched brows. And her hair was incredible. Yeah, Leah was definitely attractive in her own way. Not the kind of preened and cosmetically enhanced beauty he’d become used to over the past decade, but in a colorful and striking kind of way.

  He spoke quickly, aware that his brothers were watching him. “I need a favor.”

  Her brows came together. “A favor?”

  “Yeah,” he said, briefly glancing toward his brothers. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

  Her generous mouth curled. “Really?”

  Sean nodded. He gently grasped her elbow, and a weird current shot through his hand and up his arm. His fingertips burned and he met her gaze, wondering if she’d experienced the same kind of unexpected reaction. He looked for a sign, saw nothing and then figured he was imagining things.

  “Want to go to the bar?”

  She looked dubious and suspicious, and for one nerve-racking moment, he thought she might refuse. But after a second she nodded and walked with him across the foyer. He glanced toward his brothers and saw they were watching him, clearly curious and obviously surprised by his actions. But to their credit, they remained where they were.

  “Why are your brothers all lined up and watching you?” she asked, and Sean realized she was the kind of woman who noticed every little thing. “Liam looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel.”

  His plan appeared to be blowing up in his face, but Sean kept walking. “I didn’t realize you were on a first-name basis with my brothers.”

  “I told you I was acquainted with your mother and Kayla, and that I’ve met Liam several times, since I’m working on an art piece in the foyer of his hotel. And Kieran was on call in the ER when Dad had his stroke.”

  Of course that made sense. But as Sean mulled over whether he was doing the right thing, involving someone he was inadvertently connected to, a pair of well-dressed cowboys gave her a long and clearly appreciative glance as they passed. Sean couldn’t resist glaring back. His ego was healthy enough to cope with a little competition. Not that he was interested in Leah in that way. He needed her help for a few minutes, that was all.

  It wasn’t anything else.

  She wasn’t his type.

  Yeah. Right.

  * * *

  Leah called herself all kinds of foolish as she walked into the restaurant with Sean O’Sullivan. A drink. And a favor. She should have turned on her heel and left the hotel. But her curiosity was piqued. And since she’d already decided that she didn’t like him in the least, it wasn’t as though she had anything to lose or gain by agreeing to his request.

  By the time they reached the bar, he had released her elbow, but her skin still tingled. He didn’t blink when she asked for a ridiculously expensive cocktail she knew she’d never drink and ordered a bourbon straight for himself. There were a few people sitting in the bar, but he escorted her toward one of the booths, clearly wanting a little privacy. Once they were seated, she placed her notepad and tape on the table and spoke.

  “So, you said you wanted a favor.”

  He rested his elbows on the table between them. “This is the favor.”

  Leah wasn’t convinced. “I thought you were about to ask me to keep the noise down in my studio, or something like that. I’ve been working on a few new pieces. I know the welding and soldering make a whole lot of noise.”

  He shrugged lightly. “I haven’t noticed the noise.”

  Leah angled her head and studied him for a moment. He really was remarkably attractive—even with his overlong hair and scruffy half beard. His eyes were a clear, crystalline blue, and he had unfairly long lashes. He wore jeans, a dark shirt and a black leather jacket that fitted his broad shoulders like a glove, and she suspected he had his clothes tailored. There was nothing off-the-rack about Sean O’Sullivan.

  “So, maybe you’d like to explain this favor thing?”

  “Not really,” he said.

  Leah raised one brow. “Being cryptic isn’t charming, if that’s what you think.”

  Their drinks arrived, and she stared at the multicolored concoction for a second. Once the waiter disappeared, he responded. “I’ve never had any complaints before.”

  Yes, she could believe that!

  He was the kind of man her friends would clamor to be with—rich, handsome and sexier than sin. But Leah wasn’t about to be bowled over by his good looks or blue eyes. She knew who he was. What he was. And since she was so far from being his type, as history had proven, she had no intention of going another round in the humiliation stakes. He wanted something though...and she intended to find out what it was.

  “You can save the sexy one-liners,” she retorted. “And tell me the truth.”

  His gaze darkened, and she wondered if he knew the effect that look had on women. On her. The last time they had been this close and in this place, he’d charmed her with a smile and some off-the-cuff comment about her hair, before asking what her friend would like to drink. Yeah, he was all charm, all right. The absurdity of the situation made her chuckle, and she saw his immediate frown.

  “Is something funny?”

  Leah pushed the ridiculous looking drink aside. “I was just thinking about the last time we were here together.”

  He jerked back and frowned. “The last time? I don’t understand what you—”

  “Over there,” she said and jerked a thumb vaguely in the direction of the bar. “I was in town visiting my mom and dad over the Christmas break. I’d brought my roommate from college, and we came here for a drink. You were sitting at the bar with some friends and came over to talk to me.”

  “I did?”

  “You did,” she said and gave a brittle laugh. “You asked me what kind of drink my friend liked.”

  He looked...a little embarrassed. “I did?” he said again.

  Leah nodded. “Yeah...then you spent the weekend with her in this very hotel.”

  He shook his head, clearly confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember who you—”

  “That’s because you have a reputation for forgetting women after you get them into bed,” she said, cutting him off. “Her name was Carissa, and she was tall and blond with legs up to here,” Leah said, holding a hand flat up to her own neck. “You know, your go-to type.”

  He leaned forward on the table, and Leah experienced an odd sensation in her belly. She couldn’t help noticing how he stared at her mouth. It was a habit of his. And not one she could honestly say she disliked. There was something about him that was impossible to ignore. Something, she figured, that was responsible for the butterflies in her stomach.

  “You think you know my type?”

  “Well,” she said, and wiggled the fingers on one hand dismissively, “I know it’s not someone like me. Which brings me back to my question about this favor you said you wanted.”

  He rested his chin on the back of his hands, calmly ignoring her question. “So, this friend of yours... Carissa...is she still a friend?”

  Leah waved a hand vaguely. “She married straight out of college and moved to Texas.”

  “She came to LA,” he said, as a memory clearly kicked in, and then shrugged one broad shoulder. “If I recall correctly, she left after a few days.”

  Leah’s brows rose. “I think she quickly figured you weren’t the relationship type. Sorry to say she wasn’t pining after you once you returned to Los Angeles. At least, not for very long.”

  He laughed unexpectedly, and the sound made her insides roll over. Damn, snap out of it, girl. She wondered if he had any idea how sexy he was, and then figured he was probably the least self-aware man she’d ever met.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he said and grinned. “Pining after anything is such a waste of energy.”

  “Smooth and smug,” she said and twirled the umbrella in her unwanted drink. “That’s quite a combination.”

  “Are you always this obnoxious on a date?”

  Leah’s eyes widened. “Oh...we’re on a date now? Five minutes ago you wanted a favor. Now it’s a date. Thanks for the heads-up.”

  She could have sworn she saw color creep up his neck as he sat back in the seat. “Okay...fair enough. I’ll explain.”

  Leah nodded. “I’m listening.”

  He sighed impatiently. “I was upstairs talking with my brothers, and then they started asking me questions about my decision to return to Cedar River.”

  “And?”

  “And I wanted to get them off my back. When I saw you in the lobby, I thought...” He shrugged again. “I figured they’d get off my case if they believed I was meeting someone for a drink or...whatever.”

  Whatever? No need to guess what that meant. She remembered how his three siblings were observing them curiously as they had crossed the foyer. “So I’m what...a diversion?”

  He actually managed to look a little sheepish. “Well...yeah.”

  Leah’s jaw tightened. “You can’t simply tell them to stay the hell out of your business?”

  “They’re my family. And sometimes family doesn’t understand boundaries.”

  “So you’d rather involve me in this situation than sort it out for yourself?”

  He scowled, clearly irritated that she was making a big deal out of it. “It’s a drink...not a marriage proposal.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” she retorted, echoing the words he’d said only moments earlier. “But I’m really not in the mood for either.”

  She began to slide across the booth seat, but stopped when his hand came across the table and he grasped her wrist. His touch was light and nonthreatening, the look on his face almost pleading—and her skin began to tingle in a way that made her awareness of him skyrocket.