“Let me talk to Francesca. Maybe she’ll have some suggestions.”

  Words of gratitude clog my throat. I clear it and a rusty “thank you” emerges.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Jack says. “I can’t make any guarantees she’ll have anything for you.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I grin madly. “The offer to speak to her for me is enough.”

  Maybe my life is about to change for the better.

  Chapter 26

  Jack

  * * *

  The utter euphoria on Aurora’s face hits me right in the gut. How long has it been since she last smiled? There’s a loosening inside my chest that I’m the one who brought that expression to her. I want her to do it more often.

  “So tell me about the name, Rory?” I ask. I’m not ready for her to leave just yet.

  Aurora huffs out a small laugh and her cheeks turn a slight pink color. “My mother used to love this blues singer from the early 90s. In fact, I’m named after her. When I was little she and I would spend time in the kitchen and belt out every song she ever made. I even thought I could learn to play the guitar just like her. The singer, not my mother. I tried so hard. Practiced every day. Sadly, I never got better.”

  She pauses for a moment, her gaze unfocused as though picturing the memories I can’t see. She blinks and looks at me. “Lucia started calling me Rory as a joke, because listening to me try and learn guitar was painful for everyone.” Aurora chuckles. “I didn’t—still don’t—have a single musically talented bone in my body. The nickname stuck, though. Although it’s been many years since anyone’s ever called me that.”

  It’s fascinating listening to her talk about her past life. How she grew up. It doesn’t seem all that different from me. While I was never one for singing, my mother was. “Your mom sounds like mine. Us five kids would hear my mother singing all the time as well. She’d perform her own concerts in the kitchen or when she worked outside in her garden.”

  “I can’t imagine having that many siblings,” Aurora muses.

  “You don’t have any, then?”

  She shakes her head. “The closest person I have to a sibling is Lucia. She’s only eight years older than me and more like my big sister than my aunt.”

  “You two seem close.”

  “We are.” Aurora’s expression shifts to melancholic. “Or rather, we used to be. Alessandro kept us distant from each other. It doesn’t help that she lives on the other side of the world. It’s only been phone calls and the occasional visit over the years.”

  “Sounds rather lonely,” I note. A state I’ve recently begun to feel myself.

  “It is.”

  “I know a little bit about that.”

  Aurora gapes at me. “You’re surrounded by all these people who care about you. Your siblings. Your parents. Even Emilio, his brother, and his cousin. How on earth can you feel lonely?”

  “You can have all the friends in the world, a large family, and still be entirely alone,” I tell her. She continues staring at me like she doesn’t believe it. “Brenna’s happily married. A mother even, which seems crazy to me. Despite his roguish ways, I expect at some point, even Paddy will settle down. Same with Nathan. Caitlín as well. Although I have a feeling she won’t concede quietly,” I say fondly. “I think about what happens after they all find love. Get married. Start having children. Then I’ll be all alone.”

  “You sound so certain that they’ll all fall in love,” Aurora says, almost disbelievingly.

  “I guess I’m a dreamer. But, I really believe that,” I admit with a sheepish grin. It fades. “I think about it a lot, actually.”

  She tilts her head in that charming way of hers. “You have all these visions of your siblings falling in love. What about you? Don’t you think you’ll find someone to fall in love with as well? Get that happily ever after?”

  My eyes travel over Aurora’s face before I meet and hold her gaze. I can’t look away. Neither does she. An awareness grows between us in the silence that descends. It’s just bubbling to the surface, slowly percolating. Her cheeks darken and her breathing grows shallow. It takes effort, but I manage to blink and break the connection. I clear my throat.

  “Maybe. Who knows?” I stand from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some work I need to get done in my office. Make yourself at home. There’s a smart television if you want to watch tv. If you need anything, just knock.”

  Several hours later I’m still hiding in my office. I don’t even know why. Maybe it had been the vulnerability I’d exposed. It’s not a feeling I’m used to. In the meantime, I’ve placed all the inventory orders for the pub. I also talked to Paddy to check on the status of his hacker friend and to ask him for a favor. About an hour ago, I managed to sneak out to the kitchen and grab some lunch. Thankfully, Aurora had been absent. With all my work caught up, I grab the phone and call Giovanni.

  “Hello?” he answers.

  “Gio, it’s Jack.”

  He chuckles. “The Donnelly devil, himself.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You haven’t heard? That’s was Alessandro Costa has been calling you. Riling up not only his business associates, but also working on our soldiers. Boy is he pissed. He’s been mighty unpleasant. Since he doesn’t want it to get out that he’s a wife-beater, he’s doing everything he can to discredit not only you, but Aurora.”

  “Fuck,” I grind out.

  “Pretty much. It’s ugly.”

  Emilio warned me this is happening. I need Paddy’s hacker to move up the timetable.

  “Enough about that,” Gio says. “What can I do for you? I assume that’s not what you called for.”

  “No,” I tell him. “I was actually calling to see if I could talk to your wife.”

  “Chess? Sure, let me get her.”

  That’s one of the things I like about Gio. He doesn’t ask endless questions and try to butt into anyone’s business. Unlike his brother. Besides, I’m sure Francesca will tell him what our conversation entailed anyway. I don’t think the two of them have any secrets from each other.

  A moment later, there’s rustling and then a pleasant feminine voice comes on. “Hi, Jack. Gio said you wanted to talk to me?”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard about everything that’s been going on,” I say.

  “With Aurora Costa, you mean? Only what Brenna’s told me. You know how close-mouthed the men get when it comes to certain aspects of their business. That poor woman. I’m sorry for what happened to her.”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” I continue. “She’s feeling antsy and wanting something to do. I was telling her about your community house. I didn’t know if there was anything she might be able to do, but I told her I’d talk to you.”

  “Of course. I’m not sure what, but I’m sure we can figure something out. If not, she’s more than welcome to take a look at the resources we offer to help the women get back on their feet,” Francesca offers. “Maybe there’s something that will interest her.”

  This had been the right call to make. Between Francesca and Brenna, hopefully Aurora will have new women to call friends who’ll lend her the support she needs once Lucia returns home. “Thanks Francesca. I really appreciate you doing this for me. Is there a good time for the two of you to meet?”

  “What about tomorrow at one? That way she and I can chat and get to know each other better. I should be able to figure out what she might be able to help with.”

  Aurora is going to be so happy. Which, in turn, makes me happy. I want to take away the sadness that seems to surround her. “Tomorrow sounds great. How about Cup of Joe on 5th near 74th?”

  “I’ll be there. I’m really glad you called, too. I know what she’s going through and how easy it is to feel helpless and lost,” Francesca says softly. “She’s lucky to have you on her side.”

  Actually, I think I’m the lucky one.

  Chapter 27

  Aurora

  * * *

  Jack didn’t say anything when he finally emerged from his office last night, but I cleaned every inch of the penthouse while he’d been in there doing whatever it is he does. Instead, he’d said good night and disappeared into his bedroom. I’d gotten the impression he hadn’t wanted to spend a lot of time with me.

  My feelings may or may not be a little hurt. Which is ridiculous. We’re nothing to each other besides reluctant housemates. Although the way he had looked at me at breakfast yesterday still has me growing flushed. There had been a heat in his eyes that burned bright. It had nearly taken my breath away. It’s the same way he looked at me at the wedding reception. Before…everything.

  I’m determined to find my way back to that woman. I straighten my shoulders and head to the kitchen to make myself something to eat. It’s been too long that I’ve had the freedom to eat when I’m hungry. The scene that greets me makes me pause. Jack’s laptop is open at the table, but he’s not sitting in front of it. Instead, he’s standing at the stove. The scent of bacon fills the room. My mouth waters.

  “Good morning,” he greets me over his shoulder. “Breakfast should be ready soon if you want to set the table.”

  “You’re cooking?” The obvious question slips out.

  He sends me a crooked grin. “I am capable of it.”

  Flustered, I sputter. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just unexpected. You didn’t have to do that.”

  Jack scoops out the last few pieces of bacon from the frying pan and places them on the stack on the plate. He turns to face me and leans back against the counter. “The proper response is ‘it smells delicious. I can’t wait.’”

  My face heats. “Sorry. It really does smell delicious.”

  He unfolds his frame and gets back to cooking. “Good, because I made a lot.”

  With nothing else left to do, I rush to grab a couple plates from the cupboard as well as glasses. I set both our places and then get juice and milk from the fridge. Jack joins me a moment later with two plates ladened with perfectly crisped bacon and scrambled eggs and what looks like cheese.

  “Bon appetit,” he says with flourish as he puts them down between us.

  “Thank you for making breakfast.”

  “You’re welcome. Although, I will have to admit that aside from dumping cereal and milk in a bowl, this is about the only thing I can cook.” He gives me that charming grin of his that I can’t help but return.

  “My mother taught me how to make French toast before she died,” I tell him.

  Jack’s expression softens. “I’m sorry you lost your mother.”

  “It was hard. Still is. My father had no idea what to do with a little girl. He’d never bothered with me before. It had always been me and Mom.” I miss her every single day.

  “Maybe tomorrow, you can wow me with this famous French toast of yours.” Jack winks, and I snort.

  My stomach also does that little flip flop as well at the flirtatious gesture. “I don’t know how famous it is, but I’ll be happy to make it.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” He picks up his fork. “We should probably get eating before everything gets cold.”

  “I’ll clean up,” I offer. “It’s only fair, since you’re the one who did all the cooking.”

  “We both can.”

  I begrudgingly concede. Jack and I clear the table, and I start filling the sink for dishes.

  “I talked to Francesca last night,” he speaks over the running water. “We have a meeting with her at one. She’s looking forward to talking with you.”

  “For real? Oh my gosh, thank you so much.”

  Jack inclines his head. “Like I said, I can’t guarantee anything.”

  I’m not sure I can pin it down, but I have a feeling that he’s being modest and that he may have pulled a string or two for me. It starts that fluttering in my belly again. After years of beatings and criticisms, it’s hard reconciling the fact that someone is this kind. I’m worried that I’m reading too much into Jack’s actions. He’s just being nice.

  I nibble my bottom lip. “Do you think it’s safe to leave?”

  “We’re in Irish territory. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  The ding of the elevator comes faintly through the front door before the alarm chirps and the door opens. My heart leaps into my throat, but settles at the sight of Jack’s brother—Paddy, I believe is his name. He’s carrying a large package. Jack tosses the towel on the counter and joins him. I try not to eavesdrop on their conversation, but it’s difficult not to hear what they’re saying.

  “I had no idea what I was supposed to get,” Paddy tells him after a quick glance in my direction. “This better be the right thing, because I can’t take it back.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine. Thank you for getting it,” Jack says, taking the box from him and propping it against one of the couches. “There’s some bacon left if you haven’t eaten yet.”

  His brother shakes his head and glances one more time at me. It’s a bit disconcerting. “No, thanks. I can’t stay. I just wanted to drop this off, like you asked.”

  While his gaze is quick and his expression inscrutable, there’s a little flicker of emotion in Paddy’s eyes that feels disapproving. Of me or of the circumstances, I can’t decide. Either way, the guilt returns that I’m causing problems for Jack. The two men shake hands and as quickly as he arrived, Paddy is out the door.

  I shouldn’t ask, because it’s none of my business, but I’ve never been able to quell my curiosity for long. It’s gotten me in quite a bit of trouble. “What did you get?”

  Jack sweeps his hand toward the package and a sheepish look crosses his face. Dare I say even his cheeks darken. “I didn’t expect Paddy to show up this early with it. I was going to surprise you later.”

  That has me stopping in my tracks. “What do you mean? Surprise me with what?”

  He shifts almost self-consciously, but motions to it with his chin. “Go ahead. Open it. Just be careful.”

  With cautious steps I move across the living room until I reach the large rectangular box. I cast a quick glance in Jack’s direction before returning to the package. Gently, I set it on the ground and run my finger along the flap. It’s taped securely.

  “Here.” It’s a pocketknife.

  I gingerly take it from him and cut the tape before handing it back. Ever so slowly, I open the box. I capture a gasp behind my hand. Tears spring to my eyes. As though afraid the instrument in front of me is going to disappear, I reach out and run my fingers along the wooden surface. The scent of it is overwhelming. I pluck the D-string and the note reverberates through my body.

  Emotion rushes over me. It’s too much. I scurry to my feet and race across the room into my bedroom with tears blurring my vision. Jack calls my name, but I don’t stop. I slam my door and collapse onto the bed. I grab a pillow and cover my face to quiet my sobs. Alessandro never wanted to hear my tears.

  Jack got me a guitar. He got me a guitar. From only my brief glance it’s an expensive one, too. That only makes me cry harder. Why would he do that? Even the guitar I’d practiced on as a kid had been a rental. Beside me, the bed dips. I jerk my head up with a gasp and clutch the pillow tight to my chest. Jack reaches up and wipes my tears with his thumb. His gaze darts across my face.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry. This was supposed to make you happy,” he says softly.

  “It does,” I manage to choke out and then take a shaky breath. “It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I can’t—“

  Jack places a finger over my lips. “Whatever it is you’re going to say, don’t. You can, and you will.”

  Unwillingly, my tongue darts out and captures the flavor of his skin. Our eyes lock. The blue of his eyes darkens to nearly black. His nostrils flare as though scenting me. A long-forgotten throbbing begins deep and low inside my center. Jack gently palms my cheek and the rough texture of his thumb rubs across my bottom lip, just barely dipping inside.

  A voice whispers in my ear about what a bad idea this is. I ignore it. I want someone—Jack—to touch me with gentleness for once. I want to feel an inkling of pleasure, even if it’s only fleeting. Against my better judgment, I part my mouth wider. It’s an invitation. I only have to wait for him to accept it.

  Chapter 28

  Jack

  * * *

  Aurora’s eyes still sparkle with the sheen of tears. Her mouth calls to me. The skin smooth and wet, just beckoning me to brush my lips across it. This is such a bad idea. Maybe, but a force greater than me pushes me to proceed. I dip my head, pausing a hairsbreadth from her. Our breaths mingle. I’m giving us both time to come to our senses. Neither of us take it.

  Instead, I close the last minuscule distance between us and ghost my lips along Aurora’s. I keep the touch gentle, shallow. It’s a tender kiss as we re-learn the taste of each other. The last time she tasted of buttercream. This time, there’s a hint of citrus.

  Aurora smells like me. It’s as though I’ve claimed her. Possessed her. Like I’m letting anyone who dares to come near know—she’s mine. I deepen the kiss and slip my tongue past the seam of her lips to glide along hers. She sucks in a breath, pulling mine in with it as though taking a piece of me inside her. It’s that sharp inhale that brings Aurora to her senses.

  She rips her mouth from mine and jumps to her feet, bringing the pillow with her and clutching it hard against her chest. “We can’t do this. I can’t do this.”

  I rise from the bed, and she backs farther away from me. There isn’t fear in her eyes. It’s more like she needs to put the space between us for both our sakes. “My apologies. It won’t happen again.”

  “No,” she shakes her head. “It’s not your fault. I was the one who wanted you to kiss me. But we can’t do this.”