And look where that had gotten her.

Her phone buzzed with a text. From Bryce, no less. Think Jessica Dunn is a good match 4 me?

Oh, crap. First of all, Jessica Dunn would never go for a guy like Bryce; Jess had a very appealing edginess to her, and Bryce was as complicated as a chocolate chip cookie. Secondly, there was Paulie!

Not really, she typed back. Hang in there. I’m working on someone for you. She’s special.

Pretty? appeared almost immediately.

Sigh. Paulie could not be described as pretty. Striking.

Awesome, came the reply. C u soon!

“I’m gonna lay here for another minute,” Mom said. “But, Colleen, I was thinking. It doesn’t seem like your father is going to come to his senses any time soon. I thought That Whore was a midlife crisis, just a little fling—”

“They’ve been together for ten years, Mom.”

“And even after that child, I thought he’d come back to me.”

“Savannah, Mom. Say what you want about Gail the Tail, but be nice about Savannah. She’s my sister.”

“Your half sister.” Mom sat up, grabbed one of the attractively rolled facecloths and ran some water on it, then held it against her chest. “Anyway, John Holland has adult grandchildren, he’s in his sixties, but he found someone. I’m only fifty-four, and what do I have? Nothing. No grandchildren, not even a daughter-or son-in-law, and nothing on the horizon, either. What’s wrong with you and Connor?”

A familiar refrain. “What’s wrong with you, Mom? Why haven’t you given me a nice stepfather? I wouldn’t say no to Mariano Rivera, for example. Or George Clooney. Actually, I’d marry both of them myself, so take them off the list. Sean Connery, he’d do. Or Ed Harris. Why haven’t you married Sean Connery or Ed Harris, Mom?”

“Your father married That Whore. John Holland married Mrs. Johnson. Cathy Moore turned g*y and married Louise. And here I am, sitting in a tub having a hot flash. On the tenth anniversary of your father leaving me, no less.”

“Well, you can get out of the tub, Ma.”

“Wait till you hit menopause. I’ll have no sympathy for you.” Mom sighed. “I’m tired of things being the same. I want a life. I want to get laid.”

Hail Mary, full of grace—

“Barb McIntosh said you told her you could fix up anyone. Does that include me, or don’t I count?”

Colleen’s head whipped around from where she was examining the showerhead.

In all the years since the divorce, Mom had not gone out once. Not once. “Really? You really want to date?”

“Yes. Why shouldn’t I? Your father has That Whore, and if John Holland can find someone, I probably could, too. I’m not disgusting, am I?” Her mother climbed out of the tub and scooped her hair off her neck in a regal move, one that Colleen had copied as a kid.

Danger, she heard Connor’s voice say in her head. He definitely was the logical twin. And yes, fixing up Mom could be the emotional equivalent of waterboarding.

Then again, Mom had waited years for Dad to come back to her. Denial, then bitterness as an Olympic sport. Maybe what she needed to get over Dad was another man. Certainly, Colleen had always thought so.

“And if I meet someone, maybe your father will get jealous and finally get his head out of his ass.”

Crud. Using people to make other people jealous...that never worked very well. “Mom, if you want to date, maybe find someone, I think that’d be great. But Dad’s not coming back.”

“You never know. So? Will you help me? I need to set up an online profile.”

Faith had done the same thing with her father last fall. It hadn’t been a particularly good experience, though all’s well that ends well. Also, Faith herself was sweet and naive.

Colleen was not.

If there was one thing she knew, it was men and how they thought.

“Oh!” Mom exclaimed, grasping Colleen’s arm. “And guess what else I heard? Guess! Guess!”

“The sound of a butterfly’s wings,” Colleen said.

“No. Guess again.”

“What, Mom?”

Mom let go of her arm, fluffed her hair and gave Colleen a triumphant look. “I heard Lucas Campbell is back in town.”

“I know.”

“Surprise! Isn’t it great?”

“He’s back because Joe Campbell isn’t long for the world, so I’d have to say no.”

“It is! It’s great because—”

“Don’t, Mom.”

“Because you never got over him.” Mom fixed her with a triumphant look.

“That’s debatable.” Granted, a debate she’d probably lose, but still. “Also, Mom, he’s married.”

“No. He’s divorced.”

Colleen blinked.

“Aha! I knew you didn’t know that!” Mom crowed.

“Are you two done up there?” Carol called from downstairs. “I have other people here who might actually buy this place, you know.”

“We’ll be right down. She doesn’t love it,” Mom yelled. Colleen barely heard.

Divorced?

No, he hadn’t mentioned that the other night. Questions surged into her head. Why? For how long? Was he heartbroken? Bitter? Had he cheated? Had she? Was he seeing someone?

Get a grip, she told herself. He broke your heart. He fell in love with someone else, and he left you. Just. Like. Dad.

“Colleen?” Mom asked. “You’re not really interested in this house, are you?”

“It’s almost perfect,” she said, clearing her throat. “But there’s not enough shade in the front.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

A WEEK BACK in Manningsport, and Lucas had spoken to an attorney, who told him that a divorce for Uncle Joe was going to be just about impossible. Lucas wasn’t giving up on that just yet. New York divorce law was a tangled, Puritanical web, but maybe there was a loophole somewhere. Then there were Joe’s finances; he wanted whatever assets he had to go to Bryce. What exactly those assets were remained to be seen, because Didi kept a tight fist around the family funds.

In the meantime, Lucas found a short-term, furnished rental in a pretty building on the green, roughly two hundred feet from O’Rourke’s front door. He’d been avoiding the pub, not wanting Colleen’s panties to get into a twist (though thinking about her panties wasn’t the worst way to spend time).

Today, however, he was stopping by the Manningsport Animal Shelter to see Bryce, and hopefully get his cousin to commit to a plan of action for a future that included more than playing video games in his mom’s basement. Bryce loved animals; maybe Lucas could convince him to go to school to become a veterinary assistant or the like.

The shelter was a gray building on the outskirts of town, and Bryce’s Dodge Ram pickup truck was parked outside, along with a cute little Porsche and a mountain bike with a wicker basket on the handlebars. Lucas went inside. There was no one in the waiting room, but he heard voices coming from behind a closed door. Some female murmuring, then Bryce speaking more clearly.

“Let’s use a little lubricant, don’t you think, baby? Don’t be scared. I’ll just ease my finger in like that and squeeze, nice and gentle.”

Lucas froze.

“Doesn’t that feel good, sweetheart?” Bryce went on.

A moaning sound came in response.

What the hell? Was Bryce ha**g s*x in an animal shelter?

“Bryce? It’s Lucas.”

There was a scrambling sound from inside, and then the door opened, and there was Colleen, her hair tumbled, cheeks pink.

A white-hot knife of jealousy slid between Lucas’s ribs, and for a second, he couldn’t see straight.

“Hey,” she said calmly, though her eyes widened a bit.

“Colleen.”

She raised an eyebrow at his tone, then looked behind her. “Your cousin’s here, Bryce,” she said.

“Hey, Lucas!” Bryce called. “I’m covered in slime. Be out in a second.”

Colleen came into the waiting room, closing the door behind her. “We meet again. How are you, Spaniard?”

It was her old nickname for him...she had often said he looked like a Spanish pirate.

“I’m fine,” he said tightly. “What exactly were you doing in there?”

She cocked an eyebrow, then grinned. “Sounded like sexy time, didn’t it? But no. Just Bryce expressing the anal glands of a very cute little dog.”

“I—okay, I’m speechless.”

“I know. There’s just no good comeback for that.”

“Is life so quiet here that this is what passes for fun?”

“Don’t sell it short. Want to watch? He’s really good.” She grinned, and Lucas felt a responding smile start in his chest.

“So your dog required some, um, special treatment?” he asked.

“No, that would take the New York Giants and a very, very brave vet. It’s Mrs. Tuggles, one of Paulie’s recent acquisitions. Rufus over there is my baby.” She pointed, and Lucas glanced over to where a gray, cow-sized dog lay on its side as if dead.

“Are you a good boy, Rufus?” Colleen asked.

The dog’s tail thumped twice in confirmation.

“So these anal glands,” Lucas said. “Your way of getting Paulie and Bryce together?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“How romantic.”

“Hey. It’s working. You see, Lucas, a lot of men don’t appreciate what’s right in front of them, so they have to be shown. In twelve-foot neon letters. With arrows pointing to it.” She paused to let that sink in, lest he miss the innuendo (whatever it was). “Also, Mrs. Tuggles was blocked and kept scooching her butt across Paulie’s rug. You get the picture.”

The exam room door opened again, and there was Paulie, holding Mrs. Tuggles, a rotund little dog that looked extremely satisfied at the moment, her wide mouth grinning, tongue lolling. The dog yawned and closed her eyes.

“Looks like she could use a cigarette,” Colleen said. “Bryce, what did you do to her?”

“I aim to please,” Bryce said, drying his hands on the paper towel. “Hey, Lucas! You know Paulie, right? We went to high school with her senior year.”

“Nice to see you again,” Paulie said.

“Good to see you, too, Paulie,” he said with a smile. Her face grew pink...then red...then blotchy. That was some blush.

“Mrs. Tuggles, say hi to Lucas,” Bryce said. He bent down to kiss Mrs. Tuggles’s head, bringing his own head in the vicinity of Paulie’s chest. Her face went into the purple zone, and the dog licked Bryce’s face with exuberant gratitude and slobber. Kind of disgusting.

“You got a minute, Bryce?” he asked when the dog was done frenching his cousin.

“Totally. Girls, it was great seeing you both,” Bryce said. “All three of you, that is.” He scratched the pug on the head.

“Oh, yes...uh, I mean, yeah. You, too,” Paulie said. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “Colleen, thank you for coming with me.” Her voice was loud and expressionless. “I was so concerned about poor Mrs. Tuggles, and it was good to have a friend.” She took a shaky breath. “Bryce, you were so wonderful. Let me buy you a beer some night.” Her face went nuclear.

Lucas would bet a hundred bucks Colleen had given her those lines.

“Sure. That’d be great,” Bryce said, completely oblivious. Paulie’s eyelids fluttered, and she took an unsteady step backward, looking as if she was about to faint.

Colleen gave her a little push forward and picked up a bike helmet from one of the chairs. “See you around, boys. Paulie, I’ll walk you out. Come on, Rufie!”

The women and their animals left, and Bryce stretched his arms over his head. “I think Colleen might have a thing for me,” he said.

There was that flash of jealousy again. “I’m pretty sure that’s not it,” Lucas said.

“You never know. She and I—” He glanced at Lucas as if just now remembering that Colleen had once been with Lucas. “Uh...nothing. We hit it off. As friends, you know? At the bar, just shooting the shit. Friends. You’re right, there’s nothing there.” He cracked his knuckles. “What can I do for you, bro? You want a dog? Or a cat? My mom won’t let me have one, which is probably why I work here, you know?”

“I can’t have a pet, Bryce,” Lucas said. “I’m only in town for a while.”

“Right, right. Or you could move back.”

“Not gonna happen, pal.”

“Right. South Side forever.”

Lucas smiled. “I figured you could show me around, since you said you spend a lot of time here.”

“Sure! Come on back.”

Another door led to the kennels. The usual suspects—pit bull here, Rottweiler there, with a couple of older-looking dogs. Bryce had a kind word for all of them, even the snarling black mutt in the last kennel. Then on to the cat room, where there were far too many felines of varying colors and sizes.

Bryce picked up a kitten. “Who’s beautiful, huh? Who’s so pretty? You are, sweetie!” The kitten batted Bryce on the nose and mewed.

Lucas had never had a pet. He could get one, he guessed; he just wasn’t home a lot. Maybe now that he was leaving Forbes, he’d get a dog who could ride in his truck to job sites and lie at his feet at night. It’d be nice to have some company.

Well. He’d wait to get back to Chicago. There were plenty of animals waiting to be adopted in the city, he was sure.