“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” The priest’s voice carried through the morning air as we said good-bye to Ronan Hennessy.

I’d been to my fair share of police funerals over the years, but today’s bore no resemblance to the others. No rows of uniformed officers paying their respects. No bagpipers playing a lament. No twenty-one-gun salute. Only a small crowd gathered in front of the mausoleum, fronted by three men holding up their mother with their strength.

The Hennessy family had doubled as my own for most of my childhood. Dad was on the force with Ronan, and Rebecca was the most motherly figure in my life, since I lost mine before I ever had her. Then there were the Hennessy boys . . . all of them larger than life. Dark blond hair, devastating grins, and brilliant green eyes.

My gaze zeroed in on Rhett like it always did, against my will after five years of distance. I refused to admit the slam of my heart against my chest had anything to do with the crush I used to have on him. I’d grown up, gotten over him.

I shifted on my heels and let my gaze trail across the mourners, basically focusing on anyone and anything but Rhett. Now wasn’t the appropriate time.

A pall hung over this funeral that had nothing to do with the normal somberness of the occasion, and you could see it in the uncomfortable posture of the mourners. Dirty cop who potentially committed suicide by blowing up his own house while his former subordinates were on their way to arrest him wasn’t exactly the final chapter anyone aspired to, and it broke my heart that this was how Ronan would be remembered.

I couldn’t reconcile it with the man I’d known. The facts I’d pulled from the media and my own curious search of the police department computer network sounded like something out of a Hollywood blockbuster rather than reality. And no, I refused to call indulging my curiosity “hacking,” because it was so basic and benign that anyone with YouTube access could have done it.

Mrs. Hennessy’s head bowed, and Rock, the oldest now that Robin was gone, pressed tissues into her hand so she could dab at her tears. Rome, the youngest, who looked nothing at all like I remembered, stood at her back, and Rhett seemed to keep her upright with his grip on her other arm. Mrs. Hennessy had named her boys after classic literary heroes. Rock was short for Rochester from Jane Eyre, Robin for Robin of Locksley, Rome was short for Romeo, and then there was the man named after the infamous hero of Gone with the Wind . . .

Rhett Hennessy.

I could have kept a journal of his facial expressions in high school, because I was that girl. Okay, so I had kept a journal of them, but that was only because I had a slightly OCD list-making tendency. Like that list of his favorite things. And then the one with the reasons he would make the perfect boyfriend to my fifteen-year-old self.

I glanced around to make sure I hadn’t actually said any of that out loud. Sometimes I did that too. I blamed that on living inside my own head too much. No one here needed to know how completely infatuated I had been with Rhett, bordering on creepy stalker status. It had taken me years to grow out of that crush. And yes, I did grow out of it, thank you very much.

The pang in my chest as I watched Rhett wrap his arm around his mother’s shoulders was truly out of sympathy. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the years hadn’t just aged him, they’d perfected him, even with the worn-around-the-edges look he had going on today.

My mind wandered as I murmured along with the group prayer. Rhett’s sharp green gaze hadn’t landed on me yet, which was no surprise. He had never seen me; I’d always been invisible. The buzz cut he wore all through high school had grown out, and I was pretty sure its current shagginess stemmed from neglect rather than from a nod to style.

His body had changed as well. He was still about six feet tall, but his frame’s former lanky youthfulness had been replaced by a solid man. The tightness of his suit coat looked like he’d had to force his biceps into the sleeves because they’d grown since the last time he’d worn it.

I shifted where I stood, wishing I’d never started down this familiar road of catalog all the reasons why Rhett Hennessy is still disturbingly gorgeous and out of my league—like the Quiz Bowl team at a kegger. And, of course, there was the ridiculously inappropriate venue for my thoughts—a funeral. I’m going to hell, and not just for hacking the Vatican after I read The Da Vinci Code the first time.

Nothing had changed.

I was still the awkward geeky girl I’d always been. No number of patents, successful IPOs, or dollars in the bank would ever make me normal. Rhett was still the stoic one who didn’t need to speak for you to know what he was thinking.

The priest made the sign of the cross, signaling the end of the service, and the Hennessy boys stepped forward one at a time to shake his hand. Rock kept hold of his mother’s arm, and Rhett turned around to face my brother. He’d been best friends with Heath since they could walk, had gotten into trouble together for their first two decades, and hadn’t surprised a soul when they’d both gone to the police academy to follow in their fathers’ footsteps.

The younger me would have inched closer to eavesdrop on what they said, but I was older now. More sophisticated. Okay, that was a lie, but at least I’d learned the art of subtlety.

When my dad shuffled on his feet beside me, I turned to him. “You okay, Dad? Need to sit down?”

Crippling arthritis that my father had never once mentioned—not in all the phone calls we’d had, nor during his trips out to California to see me—had hit him so hard, he could no longer hide the pain or physical changes.

“I’m fine.” His response was gruff, probably because he was annoyed he couldn’t find his old uniform to wear to the funeral. Part of me was glad he didn’t find it—there wasn’t a single uniform in sight.

“We’ll be going soon. We’re almost done here.”

He harrumphed and looked away.

Well, okay then. This day hadn’t been easy for any of us.

My brother spoke to all the Hennessys, shaking their hands and kissing Rebecca’s cheek before stepping aside for another group.

Rhett never once looked in my direction. Never saw me.

Because he never does.

I wanted to kick myself for that thought. We were at his father’s funeral, and this wasn’t about me. Nothing that had to do with Rhett Hennessy would ever be about me.

As Heath returned to offer his arm to my father, I took a deep breath and gave myself a quick pep talk.

You can do this. You will not stutter. You will not hiccup. You will be cool, collected, and the badass CEO you are.

“I’ll be right back.” I turned and took a single step toward the family to offer my condolences as they broke away from the crowd and moved en masse down the cracked sidewalk to a limousine waiting beyond the gates of the cemetery.

I squeezed my eyes shut and spun around again. Great. Now I’m a crap funeral attendee too. It was no surprise I couldn’t manage to get it right. Being awkward was my jam. Designer clothes and fancy shoes would never change that.

“Let’s go,” my brother said, tearing my attention away from the Hennessys. “I want to drop Dad off at my place, and then I’m tracking down Rhett and getting him hammered. No one should have to face a night alone after this fucked-up day.”