Chapter One
A man didn’t make mistakes. He made choices. Bad ones stayed with him for a long time but, with a little luck and a lot of hard work, hopefully not forever. With planning and diligence, he could make amends. And that had been Julian Dane’s blueprint for how to live his life for the last two hundred and seventy days.
He’d been clean and off drugs for way longer, but the time since he’d acted like a lowlife dirtbag and hurt an innocent woman haunted him more than his past addiction. So he counted his sobriety from that day on. The day he’d decided to act like a decent human being, make amends, and truly change.
He walked out of his Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, his close friend and sponsor by his side. He’d tried Narcotics Anonymous, but at the suggestion of his old therapist, he’d related more to the people in the A.A. meetings, their twelve-step program suiting his needs—beginning with admitting he was powerless over his addiction, including making apologies and amends, and ending with practicing everything he’d learned in all his affairs. And everything in between.
“You up for dinner?” Nick Cantone, his sponsor, asked.
They often caught a bite after a meeting.
“I told Lauren I wouldn’t be home until later, so she’s grabbing something to eat with friends,” he said, referring to his wife.
Julian’s empty stomach grumbled in agreement. “Sure,” he said with a grin.
They headed for a small diner on the corner, a typical New York City haunt, and chose an empty booth, sitting across from each other on the plastic seats. Julian didn’t need to look at the laminated menus. A burger and fries would suit him fine. The waiter poured them water and took their orders.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Neither man spoke about what went on inside a meeting unless Julian brought it up first. And though he was feeling pensive, he wasn’t in the mood to talk about his past. He wasn’t currently struggling with sobriety, didn’t miss the pull of drugs. There had been a time he’d self-medicated as an escape, and he had lost himself for a while. He had his shit together now but didn’t kid himself. A slip was always possible, so he worked the program.
“So I was thinking,” Nick said as Julian picked up a glass of water and took a drink, “it’s time you got back into the dating game. I want to introduce you to a woman I work with. I think you two would hit it off. I happen to know she’s looking for a decent guy. And if you’re not interested in a relationship, I know another chick who’s more into a no-strings hookup.”
Julian raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You playing matchmaker now?”
A grin split Nick’s face. “No. I just happened to overhear water cooler conversation at the office.” Nick owned a real estate company, and Julian had no doubt he heard his fair share of gossip.
“I’m too busy to worry about dating.” Julian’s freelance cyber security business was picking up. He’d hired outside contractors and things were finally going well. He wanted to keep his focus where it belonged.
“Next thing I know you’ll tell me your hand is working just fine,” Nick muttered.
Julian rolled his eyes. Everyone thought they were a comedian.
Although he’d be the first to admit he did give his hand a workout considering he wasn’t currently dating and hadn’t had a hookup, as Nick called it, in a while. He could date the last time he’d buried himself between a woman’s sweet thighs, but that would lead him to think about her. And that train of thought always led nowhere.
“Jesus,” he said to Nick, annoyed with where the conversation had taken him. “I’m… not ready to date… or fuck. I have loose ends I have to tie up, and until I do that, I’m not getting involved with anyone else.”
Julian had apologies left to make, one in particular, which brought him back to thoughts of her—and he couldn’t get near Kendall Parker to have his say. He’d tried, but her brother-in-law, and Julian’s one-time best friend, Kaden Barnes, wouldn’t let him close.
Not that Julian blamed him. Julian and Kade had a nasty history, made worse by Julian’s addiction and piss-poor choices. You didn’t sue an old friend, drag up his hidden, ugly past, use his sister-in-law, and walk away unscathed. Julian had done all those things. And more. But Kade didn’t know the man Julian was now, how hard he’d fought to put the past behind him and move forward.
Nick studied him thoughtfully, so Julian did the same in return. His friend was in his late forties, to Julian’s thirty, his hair starting to gray, and he’d been clean and sober for over ten years. They’d met at Julian’s first meeting and bonded over burgers and stories afterwards.
Nick had taken Julian into his family, invited Julian and his sister over for holidays, and he generally boosted Julian up. He believed in him. Much like Kade had once done, except now Julian was smarter and more receptive to help and friendship.
Sometimes it seemed like Julian’s thoughts always came back to Kaden Barnes and Kendall Parker.
“It’s time for you to talk to her,” Nick said, all but reading his mind. “You can’t move on with your life until you settle the past.”
“I know.” Julian wrapped his hand around the cold glass of ice water. “I just don’t want to upset the delicate balance of her life.” And concern about another human being instead of his own was a novel emotion for Julian.
The only person he’d ever put first was his younger sister. Alyssa was the driving force behind every move Julian had made. Good and bad. Not that he’d ever use her as an excuse for his addiction or behavior. He had family history and genetics at work, and his own shitty choices to thank for that. But Alyssa’s accident had altered the course of Julian’s life. That was something he couldn’t deny.
“You don’t know you’ll upset Kendall’s life. Just because Kade told you to stay away doesn’t mean he knows what’s best for her. Maybe she needs closure as much as you do,” Nick said.
That Kendall might need to see him, too, wasn’t something Julian had considered before. He ran a hand over his face, rubbing his tired eyes.
“Maybe you have a point,” Julian conceded, and thought about Kendall Parker.
She was a beautiful, vibrant woman, who, for a brief time, had been a light in his self-created dark life. Only he’d been too stupid to appreciate her. He’d also been so wrapped up in his quest for revenge and getting what he’d believed was rightfully his share of Kade and his partners’ company, Blink, Julian had been blind to the woman right in front of him. Kendall had been in as much trouble as he’d been.
She lived with bipolar disorder and Julian hadn’t known. She had her own life challenges, something, looking back, he could have at least noticed during their time together. Instead he’d been mindless to anything but his own needs. He’d used her for personal gain, pitted her against her twin and Kade, and generally fucked up her life.
His stomach twisted painfully at the reminder. “What if she’s gotten her shit together?” he asked Nick. “What if seeing me sends her spiraling?” He couldn’t live with himself.
Nick pointed a fork his way. “Doesn’t she need to be responsible for her behavior just like you need to own yours?” his friend countered, spouting what sounded like group tenets.
He wasn’t wrong.
With a groan, Julian leaned his arms on the linoleum tabletop. “I don’t know where she lives or works.” He knew where she’d resided last year, but she might have moved.
“Bullshit excuses.”
Julian could always count on Nick to call him out.
“All you probably need to do is check Facebook. Or put those tech skills of yours to good use. I’m sure you can catch up with her when her watchdog brother-in-law isn’t around.”
At the thought of seeing Kendall again, a mixture of heady anticipation combined with sheer nerves kicked in.
“I’ll consider it,” Julian promised.
And it was all he thought about for the next few days. Days he spent wrestling with his conscience. He hadn’t had much of one before Kendall, but his sense of morals was more developed now, as it should have been all along.
Apparently it had taken one brown-haired, blue-eyed vixen to get under his skin, make him look in the mirror and come to terms with the man he’d become.
He owed her an apology. Whether her family liked it or not.
* * *
With music playing in the background, Kendall Parker nodded her head to the beat as she counted out the brightly colored pills she took daily. She was careful as she filled the plastic holder that was labeled by individual days and divided by a.m. and p.m. doses, as prescribed by her therapist. In a separate vial, she included her daily antianxiety medication, also doctor-approved.
She clicked each case shut tight, then left the plastic containers next to the cookie jar in the kitchen, where they were visible so she wouldn’t forget. Not that she would. She hadn’t skipped a dose since she’d come home from her in-treatment stay at Maple Hill a little over a year ago.
Her dog, Waffles, a small terrier mix she’d adopted during one of her manic phases, jumped up and down, begging for a treat.
“No. You just had one, sweet girl,” Kendall said, bending to pat the tan fluffy dog on the head.
Waffles had turned into a fabulous emotional-support dog. She offered Kendall comfort and eased her anxiety. Petting the soft fur soothed her. A lick reassured her.
Kendall lived with bipolar II disorder and now that she was on the right medication, along with a steady diet of therapy, life was good and looking better every day, the mistakes and hurts of last year behind her. She was lucky her twin sister, Lexie, and brother-in-law, Kade, were kind enough to forgive and forget, because her family meant everything to Kendall.
She changed from her pajamas into an old pair of jeans and a gray tee shirt with her oldest pair of sneakers. Since she worked as a dog walker for a growing number of clients and held a steady job at For Paws, a not-for-profit animal shelter in Midtown Manhattan, it was guaranteed she’d be dealing with animal fur and poop. No reason for nice clothing in her day job.
She glanced at her watch, calculating her time before the next bus headed downtown. It was too warm to take the subway. She lived on the Upper East Side, courtesy of her father, who’d bought the apartment for Lexie and Kendall—when Lexie had all but been her twin’s caretaker. Kendall wasn’t earning enough to pay rent, but she was self-sufficient in many other ways.
All huge progress.
Lexie and Kade had married and Lexie moved into Kade’s place, and Kendall wanted her father to sell this two-bedroom so she could move into something smaller. He preferred that she stay here and have extra room. That was her father, always compensating. For Kendall’s illness. For her mother’s debilitating depression.
She pushed those thoughts away. Focused on the present. Reminded herself of all the good things in her life, of which there were many. Don’t dwell on the negative or the things she couldn’t change.
“Hey, Waffles. I’ll be back during lunch to walk you, okay?”
The pup looked up at Kendall with big brown eyes that said, Don’t leave me. In an attempt to make her feel worse, the dog then lay down, her head on her front paws, with a heavy sigh.
“Goofball. I always come back.” Kendall blew her a kiss and headed out the door for work.
A short while later, she walked into For Paws, the back of her neck damp from the unseasonable June heat, despite the fact that she’d tied her hair into a high ponytail to keep herself cool.
“Hi, Josie. What’s up this beautiful day?” Kendall tossed her backpack onto the floor beneath the desk she occupied when she wasn’t working in the back with the dogs in their crates or runs.
Josie Dawson, her boss, was a pretty brunette who’d taken a risk hiring a woman with no employment history. Josie had urgently needed to fill the paid position, and Kendall had been equally desperate for a job. Any job. Kendall had proven herself to be reliable, and the job fulfilled a very basic need of feeling self-sufficient. The other woman didn’t realize it, but Kendall owed Josie a lot for giving her a chance.
Josie was the first friend Kendall had made on her own in years. One that wasn’t connected to her sister. Kendall had a bad habit of pushing people away, her highs and lows too much for most to handle. The new and improved Kendall—the properly medicated Kendall—lived life on a more even keel, which enabled her to make and keep both her job and her friend.
“How’s Steve?” she asked of the pit mix that was small for his age and had been in the kennel for way too long. The one bad thing about Kendall’s position was that she couldn’t bring all the dogs home with her. Because she really wanted to.
“He’s good,” Josie said. “He ate today. He just really needs a loving home.” But people were afraid to take chances on pitties, no matter how little the mix of genetics.
The breed had a bad reputation but Kendall didn’t care. She’d fallen for Steve, named by the person who’d dumped him at the shelter when training became too hard. She’d have taken him home, but Kendall’s building rules allowed for only one dog, so she had to leave her heart here every night. It was probably a good thing or she’d end up being the crazy lady who hoarded dogs. All she could do was spend the day giving otherwise abandoned dogs all the love, cuddles, and talking to that she could, in the limited time she was there.
“I’ll take him for a walk in a little while and spend some time with them all.”
“Sounds good,” Josie said. “I left some paperwork on the desk for you.”
Kendall nodded and got to work. The morning passed quickly, and before she knew it, lunch was fast approaching. She’d brought a cup of yogurt and fruit to eat at her desk, but first she wanted to finish up the filing.
Kendall bent over a metal cabinet, putting away the paperwork for recent adoptions, while Josie was in the back, showing a family the available dogs.
The sound of the front door chimes caught Kendall’s attention. “I’ll be right with you,” she called without looking up.
“Take your time,” a familiar masculine voice said, and Kendall’s hand froze midair.
She lowered the papers, dropping them on top of the cabinet, and slowly rose to her feet, her heart slamming against her chest, a million beats a second.
She turned to face Julian, immediately struck by his good looks, as she was every time she laid eyes on the man. They’d first met at the gym, and she’d been captivated by his dark hair, green eyes, and sexy smile—completely unaware he’d already known who she was and that he had been setting her up the whole time he’d been sweet-talking her into his clutches.
Today his dark hair was cut short, his facial scruff a hot, sexy addition to his overall good looks. He wore a pair of faded jeans that molded to his strong thighs, a black tee shirt, his forearm muscles bunching from beneath the short sleeves, and a pair of leather bracelets she didn’t remember on his right wrist.
His overall appearance was casual, sexy … and wary, if the expression in his eyes was anything to go by. But she didn’t trust anything she saw at a glance. Not when it came to Julian Dane.
He studied her, her body heating as his gaze raked over her. She didn’t look her best, didn’t have to for the job she held, but she straightened her shoulders, meeting his gaze. As if she hadn’t thought about him in ages. Which wasn’t true. She hadn’t let herself think about him, cutting off any wayward slips he made into her consciousness.
Nobody had done as much damage in her life as Julian, mostly because she’d cared so much and he’d used her feelings for him against her. She was determined to handle him with the cool detachment he deserved.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, amazed her voice sounded calm and composed.
“I wanted to see you.”
His smooth, deep voice washed over her, better memories of their time together warring with the knowledge of his real intentions. He’d wined her, dined her, and the sex between them had been incredible. She’d fallen for him hard, appreciating how he’d enjoyed her highs, not realizing he was doing more damage by encouraging her erratic behavior.
“I have nothing to say to you, Julian. Go away.” She picked up the still-to-be-filed papers with shaking hands.
He stepped up to the desk, and she was grateful for the barrier between them, but it didn’t prevent her from catching a whiff of his masculine scent and familiar, woodsy cologne.
She swallowed hard, forcing away memories of his hands on her body, gliding up her thighs, over her sex, bringing her to an intense orgasm.
“I’ve tried to talk to you a couple of times.” He spoke, unaware of her inappropriate thoughts. “Kade and Lexie haven’t let me get near you.”
Kendall narrowed her gaze at what sounded like an accusation against her twin and her husband. “Don’t you think there’s good reason for that?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, the only indication her words hurt him. “Give me five minutes. Please.”
“I’m working.”
“After work, then.”
She shook her head. “I have an appointment.” Therapy, the subject of which he’d just altered by showing his face here and forcing her to think about him again.
“After your appointment?”
When she didn’t immediately answer, he went on. “Lunch today? Tomorrow?”
She scowled at his persistence, frustrated with herself because she was curious about what he had to say. But she wasn’t ready to give in, mostly because she didn’t trust herself to be alone with him.
“How about a cup of coffee any time you choose?” he tried again.
“Careful, Julian. I might think you’re desperate.”
“What makes you think I’m not?” He settled a hip on her desk, clearly digging in, refusing to leave until he got the answer he desired. “Okay, you won’t just agree to talk to me. I get that and I understand why.”
She knew better than to feel relieved. He was merely biding his time. Still, she had to try and push him further. “So you’ll give up and go home?”
He flinched at her words but remained in place, his steady gaze on hers. “Not so fast, kitten.”
“Don’t call me that.” It was too intimate, too much. He’d had his reasons for the nickname he’d bestowed on her, and today they made her blush. She folded her arms across her chest, protecting her heavily beating heart.
He blew out a long breath. “I guess you’re going to make me spell it out right here, right now. I’m in Alcoholics Anonymous—works for me better than Narcotics Anonymous,” he said, the same muscle ticking at the corner of his eye as he admitted a truth she hadn’t seen coming.
She gripped the edge of her desk with both hands.
“I’m seriously working the program, and I want to talk to you. There are things I need to say,” he said, his voice low, his tone sincere.
Raw honesty was the last thing she’d expected to hear from him, and her heart twisted, softening toward him. How could it not? She’d done the therapy thing herself. Had gone through apologies with her sister, Kade, and her father, taking responsibility for her actions. Never mind that Julian had instigated some of her behavior, she’d made her own decisions. So she understood his need to apologize to her now.
But if she let him in in any way, she’d be risking the trust her sister and her husband placed in her. They wanted her to steer clear of Julian, and they had good, solid reasons for their feelings.
Reasons she agreed with herself. And she couldn’t justify hearing him out for any reason other than she was weak when it came to Julian Dane.
“I’m sorry,” she said, the words painful but necessary. “But I can’t. If you need to apologize,” which she knew was a tenet of his program, “then know that I hear you. And I appreciate the sentiment.” She could at least give him that.
Disappointment flashed across his handsome features, and she felt bad. “That’s not all I have to say.”
She swallowed hard, fighting past the need to listen to what he wanted to tell her. She couldn’t let it matter. “You need to hear me, Julian. Go home.”
“Okay.” He rose from his seat on the desk, both shocking and disappointing her with his sudden acquiescence.
Before she could blink, she watched his back as he strode out the door, giving her exactly what she had asked for. And leaving her feeling emptier than she could have imagined.