“You almost ready?” Connor bellowed up the laundry chute, which served as a magical portal between their apartments.

“I’ve been ready for twenty minutes,” she lied. “Are you ready? Are we picking up your date? You may as well tell me who she is.”

“She’s not coming.”

“Connor! I hate you.”

“I hate you more,” he said, grinning up the chute. “Get in the car.”

She dropped her wet towel on his head, closed the chute door. “Bye, pal,” she said to Rufus, who was mournfully chewing his plastic bone. “I love you more than Connor. A lot more.” With that, she went downstairs, the heels of her strappilicious sandals tapping away.

* * *

THE BARN AT Blue Heron Vineyard looked incredible this night, the sky a beautiful slate blue, fairy lights in the trees, and the flowers! Hydrangeas everywhere, and ivory roses—Laura Boothby had outdone herself. Candles flickered, and the wine-bottle light sconces glowed, and it was so romantic and beautiful that Colleen found herself getting choked up.

Good for Honor, going all out for her wedding. She deserved it...all those years of living with her dad, holding down the fort and running the corporate end of Blue Heron Vineyard. Most of the town did business with Honor, who would make a fine president if the mood ever struck, and everyone had a soft spot for Tom, the transplanted Brit who was so devoted to Charlie, the teenager who was his best man. Especially her own self, who had met Tom his first night in town this past winter. Sure enough, Tom gave her a grin and a wave.

Aha! Connor was talking to Jessica Dunn. “Hey, Jess!” Colleen said. “Are you Connor’s mystery woman? If so, we should talk.”

“Hail Mary, full of grace,” Connor muttered.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Colleen,” Jess said drily.

“That’s a yes, isn’t it? I knew it. Listen. I’ll make a great sister-in-law, you can put that in the plus column to help balance out Connor’s many flaws. And I want you to know I’ve been dropping hints about you for years.”

“We’re not dating,” Jess said.

“Damn!” Colleen said. “Well, you have my blessing if you change your mind. Just saying.”

They took a seat close to the front; Jessica worked at Blue Heron, after all.

And so did Mom. All the Blue Heron staff, full-and part-time, had been invited, but Mom “had plans.” And plans probably meant something with Dad. Something icky.

She hadn’t told Connor about their parents in a rare episode of twin secrecy. First of all, he’d be furious. Secondly...well, she kind of hoped this was a flash in the pan. Mom would sort it out and realize Dad was still...still...whatever.

But of course, Colleen could relate.

How many people want another chance with their first love?

Speaking of first loves... She stood on her tiptoes and scanned the crowd.

“Looking for me?” came that voice. Busted.

“No. I’m looking for Mr. Holland. I’ve been in love with him since I was eight.” She turned, her breath stopping. “You look unfairly handsome, Spaniard,” she said, and yes, her voice shook a little.

He didn’t answer, just let his gaze drift down her body, then back up, his eyes dark as...as...as coffee or something, she wasn’t doing too well in the rational thought department. Suffice it to say, one look from him was reducing her to a puddle.

He took her hand and kissed it. Soon, Colleen thought, she’d be dead of lust. And what a way to go.

They took a seat with the other guests. Tom and Charlie stood up at the front with Reverend Fisk and a shorter, older version of Tom who must be his dad, all the way from England.

Then the music started, Jack Holland walked Mrs. Johnson down the aisle, and the bridesmaids followed—Faith, Pru and Pru’s daughter, all looking beautiful in shades of lavender.

And then came Honor on her father’s arm, and Colleen glanced at Tom. It was her favorite thing to do, to see the groom’s face when he first saw his bride, and Tom did not disappoint. He looked stunned, then covered his mouth with one hand, and, bless him, welled up. Charlie, his best man, put his arm around Tom’s shoulders and smiled.

Honor looked amazing, and Colleen felt a little proud of that, having done her makeup earlier that afternoon. She glowed, she really did, smiling at Tom, those nice dimples of hers. She looked so in love that tears came to Colleen’s eyes, too. And her dress was fantastic—an ivory, Regency-style gown, utterly romantic and soft, unstructured, flowing softly to her toes. She wore her mom’s pearls, Honor’s trademark jewelry, and matching earrings, all very subtle and classic and lovely. And hey! She was barefoot, her pink-polished toes peeping out from underneath the dress. Very nice touch, Coll had to admit.

Then Mr. Holland kissed the bride and shook Tom’s hand, wiped his own eyes and sat down, and the ceremony began.

Lucas held her hand throughout, and try as she might, Colleen couldn’t help a few wedding thoughts of her own. Marriage thoughts, even better—the ordinary, wonderful days that she and Lucas could have...maybe in that little stone house Carol had mentioned the other day, waking up late on a Sunday morning, making French toast and drinking coffee on the slate patio. A black-haired baby or three. It would be so wonderful.

Then Tom kissed his wife and the crowd cheered.

All night long, Lucas was a perfect date. They didn’t talk about Bryce and Paulie, which was nice, him not pointing out that he’d been right all along. He flirted with her, kept giving her those hot Latin looks. He danced with her (not the paso doble, as Colleen suggested, making him laugh, but he was pretty good nonetheless).

“How’s Joe doing?” she asked as they danced to Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World.” “I saw him at the hospital the other day.”

Lucas’s eyes darkened. “Not too well. The cancer’s pretty fast-moving.”

Her eyes grew wet. “I’m so sorry.”

“It doesn’t look like he’ll get to divorce Didi.”

He’d told her about that. Five attorneys had said the same thing. Colleen put her head against his shoulder. Poor Lucas, about to lose someone else. “You know what you should do?” she said, pulling back to look at him. “Threaten her reputation. She’d hate for anyone to know Joe wanted a divorce, even if he couldn’t get one. Especially Bryce. Maybe she’d do it if you said you’d keep it quiet. She could spin it however she wanted after he...passes away.”

Those pirate eyes smiled, and a second later, his mouth followed. “You’re a genius, Colleen O’Rourke.”

“I get that all the time,” she said.

“I bet you do.”

“I also hear ‘extremely pretty’ and ‘quite hot in the sack.’”

“I’d attest to that.”

“So would—”

“I don’t want to hear about that,” he growled. “The only thing I want to hear is that you never got over me.”

“Well. You can think that if you want.”

“It’s true.”

She smiled. “Let’s say that it is for the sake of your huge Latin ego.” She put her head on his shoulder again. Guilt twinged in her knees, and her smile faded.

She had slept with other men. Not that many, but if Lucas knew—

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the best man’s toast,” the DJ said, and any further thoughts were cut off. She was with Lucas at a wedding, and he loved her. She was almost certain. She pushed any other, more complicated thoughts aside.

They toasted the bride and groom and had cake, and after Connor and she had done the electric slide, and when Emmaline Neal (St. Germain and vodka) had caught the bouquet, Lucas finally turned to her and said, “Come home with me.”

It was a command...a velvety promise of deliciousness.

Colleen grabbed her brother’s arm. “Walk Rufus for me?” she asked.

“Oh, gross. Listen, Campbell,” Connor growled. “Break her heart, and I’ll kill you. I mean it. The last time, you just—”

“Okay, okay, thank you for sharing,” Colleen said. “Bye, Con.”

They said goodbye to the happy couple and the Hollands, and then went off into the soft, sweet night air. A rumble of thunder came from across the lake, and a flicker of lightning lit the low-bellied clouds. Rain later tonight.

“It’s nice that you and Connor are still so close,” Lucas said as they drove down the Hill into town.

“Oh, yeah. How could we not be?”

“The flight from Chicago’s just over an hour.”

“I remember.” Buffalo-Niagara to O’Hare—how many times had she made that flight?

But wait a sec. What was he saying?

They were here, in front of the opera house. Lucas got out, opened her door and smiled. She tried to return it.

The flight being an hour...as in she could visit? Visit him? Visit Connor?

Well. They could talk about it inside. Or not. Maybe this was the exact conversation they should avoid.

They walked up to the second floor, and Lucas turned to her and kissed her, his hand on her neck. “I had a very nice time tonight,” he murmured.

“Your nice time is about to get better,” she said.

“Glad to hear it.” He opened the door, stood back. He always had such nice manners. Those parents of his had done a good job.

She went in, then leaped back in surprise, a little squeak escaping her. Someone was already here.

Someone blonde. Someone female.

Someone pregnant.

“Ellen,” Lucas said. “I didn’t expect you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Ah, shit. The last thing Lucas wanted was the tension that instantly coiled between the two women, but there it was in the middle of the room, like a snake.

“Anyone want something to drink?” he asked. Very uncool to have his pregnant ex-wife sitting on his couch. “Colleen?” Her face was white.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

Ellen stood up. “I already helped myself.” She looked at Colleen. “I’m Ellen Camp—Forbes,” she said. “We met when you visited Lucas in college.”

“Yes, I—I remember. You’re expecting. I didn’t hear that. Congratulations.”

Ellen smiled. “Thanks. My fiancé and I are really thrilled.”

“You’re engaged?”

“Yes. Getting married September first, the twins are due in late November.”

“Twins?” Colleen squeaked. “Wow. Mazel tov.”

“Thanks.” She smiled. “Lucas, I’m really sorry to be here. There was a screwup at the bed-and-breakfast, and they double-booked my room. The other couple was already there. I called you, but you weren’t picking up. The innkeeper knows the owner of this building, so she let me in when I told her who I was.” She paused. “I thought I could stay in your second bedroom for tonight.”

Great. Lucas glanced at Colleen, who stood there, silent. Not good. Not good at all.

“Yeah,” he said, suddenly realizing he hadn’t spoken. “Of course you can stay here.”

“I’m obviously interrupting your plans. I’m sorry.” She smiled again at Colleen.

Colleen seemed to snap out of her funk. “No, no, that’s...it’s fine. I’ll talk to you soon, Lucas. Uh, Ellen, it was nice to see you.” With that, she turned and left. Fast.

Lucas glanced at his ex-wife. “Be back in a few minutes. I’ll just walk her home.”

“Take your time. I’m really sorry about this.”

“No, no. These things happen. Make yourself at home.”

By the time he got out on the street, Colleen was halfway across the green. He ran to catch up to her, took her arm. She shook him off.

“So your ex is coming to visit. Thanks for the warning.”

“Colleen, slow down. It’s not a big deal.”

“Really? It is to me. And hey, she’s pregnant. Wow.”

He pulled her to a stop. “Mía, don’t—”

She made a hissing noise. “Now is not the time for mía, Lucas.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

She stopped in front of the Civil War monument and sighed the universally recognized men are idiots sigh of the female. “Lucas. First of all, the woman you threw me over for is here.”

“I didn’t—”

“And second of all, she’s engaged. And pregnant.”

“Right. Why is that a problem?”

Another disgusted look. “So you only...wanted...”

Well, shit. She was crying.

“Colleen,” he breathed. “Sweetheart.”

“Oh, shut up! Don’t sweet-talk me! How dare you sweet-talk me! So she moved on, she found someone else, she’s having a baby—and even then, did you ever think about me? No! Not until I was directly in your line of vision.”

“That’s so far from the truth, it’s almost funny.”

“Really? How long have you been divorced?”

“Officially?”

“Yes! Officially!”

“Two years.” He paused. “And three months.”

“So why didn’t you call me two years and three months ago? Or two years ago? Or a year ago? Or six months ago? Why is it only now, when Joe needed you and Ellen is breeding twins with some other guy, that you even bothered to think of me again?”

Women. He could really use a decoder ring where they were concerned. “It wasn’t because I didn’t think of you. It was because I didn’t feel like I had any—”