"Lyss-- wait. Please?"

It was the ‘please’ that made Alyssa pause. He’d rarely said that word before. Grudgingly stopping in her tracks, she waited. There was no need to turn around this time. She’d said all there was to say. "You've dropped into my life twice now." Her voice was lifeless, cold. A small, hard knot of grief had formed in the pit of her stomach that grew larger with each passing moment. "Both times you've left me blown apart."

"Lyss . . . you were right about that summer."

She heaved an irritated sigh. He was ruining her exit. Teagan had been remarkably consistent in guaranteeing how their end would play out. "I was wrong," she corrected, taking a determined step.

"Wait." He closed the distance between them. "Lyss, I'm sorry for ten years ago," he blurted. "I can't imagine that it mattered to you, but-- I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you by leaving." His words tumbled over one another.

"It . . . mattered, T." The voices on the esplanade seemed to fade away, leaving them in the lengthening quiet. Despite her prayer for numbness. For the blessed peace that would come from accepting her fate, she couldn't help the sorrow cascading over her. "It's always bothered me." Her cheeks heated with her confession. "I thought . . ."

"It was you?" His tortured voice knifed through her.

"At twenty-two . . . I wasn't that experienced."

"No. No. No, baby." He reached for her then stopped himself. "I never wanted to leave you that night."

"Please." She couldn't bear a humiliating exercise in trying to make her feel better.

"I don't expect you to forgive me . . . but hear me out." He spoke to her back, as though knowing she wouldn't turn voluntarily. "I made a promise to your brother." He spoke haltingly, as though searching for the right word. "Matt made me swear never to go near you."

"I'd rather not do this." Hands shaking, she squeezed them into fists.

"He showed me your picture," he blurted, the words coming faster now. "You had brown hair . . . with a purple stripe."

She whirled around. "I never had brown hair-" She stared at him, her gaze helplessly glued to his . . . and read something in his expression that gave her a flicker of hope. Because in his eyes, she saw misery. Torture. An abyss of wanting. She released a slow, quaking breath, determined to hear words. Lots of them. Coming from him. "Was I wearing a costume? I wore a wig for Halloween that year."

His face blank with anguish, he just stared at her. Through her. "I . . . I don't know," he finally stammered. "I swore off brunettes that semester-- to make sure I never screwed things up with Matt. But you-- were blonde. And beautiful. And . . . perfect. And safe . . . I thought."

Safe? She made a face. Not exactly a confession of true love. "What do you mean?"

"The night at the party . . . when I finally worked up the nerve to approach you . . . I-I didn't know who you were."

She was distracted-- by the heart shattering in her chest. By her shaking hands. By her running nose. Where was he going with this?

"I thought the girl I'd been dreaming about all semester . . . was safe." He must have read the confusion in her eyes because his mouth lifted in a sad smile. "You weren't supposed to be Alyssa Barnes. You were supposed to be anyone except Alyssa Barnes."

Understanding hit like a lightning bolt. "You thought Matt's sister had brown hair."

"In the middle of the night I saw your picture . . . on the coffee table. With Matt." He ran agitated fingers through his hair. "Then-- I heard him downstairs. He was on his way up . . . to crash at your place. I'd done the single thing he'd made me swear never to do."

"Why would you listen to him?"

"He's my best friend, Lyss. He was my only friend I could count on." Earnest gray eyes flooded with emotion. At least that part was something he truly believed. "That's why I jumped."

Alyssa stared at him, blank-faced. "You left because of my brother? Your friendship? Not because it was a less-than-memorable one night stand?" Ten long, painful years later, she forced a tight smile. "You're right. That's hard to believe."

"I wouldn't have left you that night." Conviction rang in his voice. "I wouldn't have wanted to leave you two days later when I had to get on that plane."

Alyssa's laugh was forced, brittle. "It was one night, T. You don't have to fake it was any big thing." She offered him what she hoped was a casual wave. Please let me escape without crying. "Goodbye."

"No." TJ froze when she turned, ice flooding his veins. "Don't leave." His voice a harsh plea he wasn't certain he'd actually spoken.

"Mondays and Wednesdays," he blurted to her retreating back, praying he could stop her. "You had chemistry at eleven." He raised his voice so she would hear. "After that . . . you met with a tutor in Gilder Hall."

Shock tremored through her. More than anything, he wanted to hold her--absorb the hurt and pain for her. But how could he comfort her when he'd been the cause? All he could do now was be honest. And pray. And brace himself for the fallout. Please don't leave me.

At least she'd stopped moving away from him. "It took me two weeks to figure out your Tuesday schedule. I looked everywhere for you." He swallowed hard, wishing she'd say something. And hoping he'd get through it all before she did. "But it was the library where I spent the most time. I'd stand behind you in line for coffee. Then I'd sit at a table close enough . . . so I could hear you laughing with your friends."

He heard her indrawn breath and knew she fought tears. Damn him for making her suffer worse. But he had to do this. Had to admit what she'd meant to him. Even if she still hated him for it. "You loved that damned library. I think I got a whole grade higher in stats because I was always there . . . trying to sit near you."

"T-" Her breath came in short, hesitating gasps, as she tried to speak around her sobs. "You-- you- I didn't imagine it?"

"I was there. Because of you." His throat hurt as he tried to speak around the boulder lodged there. "Friday afternoons . . . you worked on that political campaign . . . some guy running for town council."

"Sam Morris," she whispered.

"Monday nights you volunteered with the university ESL group-"

"Why," she cried as she whipped around. "Why are you doing this? Now? When it's too late?"

"Please don't say that." Terrified by her words, TJ wanted to look away from her agonized eyes-- but he couldn't. Her unblinking, forthright way of looking at him sometimes left him unnerved. But mostly, it brought relief. He'd always known exactly where he stood with her.

"Before that party . . . I didn't even know your name. But you owned me," he confessed. "From the very first time I ever saw you." He stared at her . . . his gaze unwavering. His eyes full of the words he couldn't seem to choke out. But the need to be honest scorched through him. The hunger for her to see what was in his heart-- even if she rejected it. "It was the bookstore . . . the second week of classes."

She stared at him-- through him. "I don't-"

He took a step closer. "Lyss-- then and now. You own me." His voice hoarse, he released a ragged breath. "I never forgot you. I never wanted to forget you. Please don't say I've screwed up the best thing that's ever happened in my life."

"T-" Her voice reached him on a sob. "You don't need to do this."

"I’ve always believed . . ." His voice wavered and he gulped in a steadying breath. "That people would be disappointed in me."

She stood before him, beautiful eyes spilling with tears. She bit her lip, waiting-- expectation swirling between them. Even now, she held herself back-- wanting to convince him of his value. Dammit, why? Why would she still believe in him? Yet, TJ knew. He could see the love in her eyes. It spilled from her. Radiated out like the shockwave after a blast. Reverberating through him. Knocking him to the ground with its strength. Wanting him to believe. She would always think the best of him-- whether he did or not.

"God, Lyss-" His voice hoarse with emotion, he swallowed around the sandpaper in his throat. "I never want you to be disappointed in me."

When she didn't speak, he assumed that meant he should keep talking. If she was still listening . . . he'd likely spill it all.

"I convinced myself my aunt was better off without me. That her duty was finally over. I never meant to hurt her." He swallowed hard. "I love her. She’s the mother I never deserved. When Finn and I got into it over that girl . . . Louise tried to resolve it, but it wasn’t fixable. Finn didn’t believe me."

He wanted to reach out, wanted to touch her. More than anything, he wished her small, sturdy hand was clasped in his right now. Instead, he blew out a steadying breath and continued. "All I could picture was me breaking up the family-- when they weren’t mine to break up."

"She never felt that way." Turning to face him, she startled. His face was deathly pale, the beautiful eyes haunted. Frozen in place, he faced her, the breeze tousling his hair and burning his eyes. "Are you okay? Do you need to sit?"

"I-- I’ve never done this before. You need to cut me some slack."

"Never done what?" Crossing her fingers, she clamped her lips shut to keep from blurting something stupid.

"I’ve never chased a woman before-"

"Oh-- give me a break." She reined in her temper with difficulty. He was completely ruining her exit. If he made her cry again, she would haul off and hit him.

"Babe . . . this one time, could you please . . . just listen?" Giving her a wan smile, he hesitated. "I’ve never chased a woman to tell her. . ."

The suspense was about to kill her. He was just standing there . . . floundering. "That… she’s the mouthiest, most stubborn woman you’ve ever met?"

"That she’s the mouthiest, most stubborn woman I could ever be in love with," he corrected. "The only woman."

Her breath caught in her throat as a glorious burst of heat flooded her chest. "Dammit, Teagan, if you’re jerking me around-" But it was there-- his gray, serious eyes suddenly igniting with joy and relief and . . . love. Only a tiny shred of doubt tainted the wonder swamping her. Why was he suddenly interested in a life that didn't involve traipsing the most dangerous reaches of the globe?

"No jerking around. I love you, Alyssa." He swallowed convulsively. "I-I love you, okay? I don't ever want to be away from you. You-- you're all I want."

She eyed him suspiciously. "I-I'm not changing what I want."

Reaching for her, he stopped himself. "For ten years-- I've loved you. You were always in the back of my mind. Believe me-- I tried to forget you. Seven years ago . . . I drank myself into a stupor when I heard you were engaged. And still-- I denied it. Then a month ago, I broke down the door-" His voice hoarse, he cleared his throat. "When I realized it was you-- I thought I would throw up-"

She wrinkled her nose. "You looked at me and wanted to throw up?"

"In a good way," he hastened to reassure. "It meant I had a second chance. Even though I fought it-" He shook his head. "I knew."

"What did you know?" Heart pounding, she held her breath.

"In that instant-- I knew why I'd come home. Why I was questioning my life." He shook his head. "Don't get me wrong-- I still fought it."

Her lips quirked, trying not to smile. He'd fought like hell. "Now-- it's different?"

Beautiful gray eyes flashed with emotion. "You. You made me admit I wanted something different. Something more. For so long . . . it was just me. Alone. Lonely. But . . . determined not to hurt anyone else. I was determined not to need anyone." He hesitated in that way he had . . . searching for just the right word. Analyzing his thoughts. "And then I saw you again." He stared at her. Through her. "Damn it, Lyss. You make me want . . . everything. And if I'm going to come clean about that . . . then it has to be with you."

Damn him. Damn his confession. Her heart was melting like a popsicle. Solemn, gray eyes gazing at her as though she were the best thing he'd ever seen. His expression open and loving. Her pulse galloping, she steeled herself to his beautiful words. "I want a man who is in this thing a hundred percent." She shook her head. "Not someone I have to drag along for the ride."

His mouth lifted in a ghost of a smile. "I can do that. I want to do that." He dragged a hand through his hair. "The house. The kid . . ."

"Kids," she corrected. "I want three."

"Every time I hold TJ-- it makes me want one." His ashen face was determined. "As long as it's with you-- I want it all."

"Why, T? Why are you saying this now?"

"Part of me still believes you can do better."

"That's so not true-" She stamped her foot.

"But-" His smile stopped her when she wanted to interrupt. "I don't care anymore," he said gently, his fingers reaching for hers. As though he would finally allow himself to touch her. "I can't let you go," he whispered. "I need you. And you need me." Staring at the spot beyond her shoulder, he finally nodded, as though he'd solved a complicated algebra problem. "I'll have forty years to become the guy . . . you think I am."

"Fifty," she corrected, swiping the tears on her face. "Teagan-- I can't believe it's you saying this."

His eyes heated with a flicker of amusement. "You created this. And you’re definitely the woman I can’t live without."

She smiled then. His eyes were so beautifully miserable. . . so anguished. "I know."

He did a double take. "How did you know?"

She took a step closer, unable to suppress the smile bursting free. "I couldn’t possibly be stupid enough to fall in love with someone who didn’t care a little."

Gunmetal eyes flashed, almost angry in their intensity. "I don’t think there’s ever going to be a little of anything between us."

She slid her arms around him, welcoming his rigid body into hers, suddenly willing to placate him on the issue of how much he loved her. His arms tightened convulsively around her.

"Lyss. . . promise me one thing," he asked after a lengthy kiss. "If I screw up . . . you won't give up on me? Promise me you'll argue? Promise me you'll fight for it . . . because I'll never stop fighting for you. I won't give up."

"I swear-- I'll fight." Humbled by his vow, she blinked back tears. "Look at it this way," she mumbled from his chest. "We’re both stubborn. Between us, we'll be unbreakable."

"Unbreakable. I like that." He nodded. "I signed my papers today."

"You-- you did?" She stilled in his arms, suddenly cautious. They still had so many things to discuss. So much to work out. She reached up and kissed him fervently, borrowing some of his warmth in the cool breeze. When they finally came up for air she laid her head against his chest. "Whatever you decide. . . we’ll make it work."

"That's good." He pulled her closer. "Because at the moment, I’m officially unemployed."

Tears of relief sprang to her eyes. "It will be okay. I know it."

"It will be great," he admitted. "I’ve finally found the courage to accept what I always wanted."

"What’s that?" She burrowed into the front of his coat, slipping her arms around his back.

"I want everything." Earnest gray eyes flared with emotion. How could she have ever found them cold? When she could read his heart, right there in his heated gaze. "I want a new life." He sighed and pulled her closer. "I want . . . to have dinner at Maddie’s on Sunday afternoon."

"Every Sunday?" She wrinkled her nose. That would definitely be a negotiable item.

"I listened to what you said," he admitted. "After you left me, I drove to Mama Lou’s. I thanked her for all she’d done for me and then we sat at the kitchen table bawling into our Irish Coffee."

Alyssa blinked back a fresh round of tears. "I’m so happy for you."

"There’s more," he announced. "Aunt Louise got me all sloppy and I ended up calling Finn."

"Who are you?" Her mouth dropped open.

"We talked for an hour," he confirmed. "I have an appointment with someone in his department next Monday."

"Someone?"

"Hell if I know." He shrugged. "Some DEA hiring person. I was sort of drunk, so I don’t remember all the details."

She couldn't hide her smile. "You’ve been busy," she murmured. And so had Mama Lou, bless her heart. It was a wise woman who recognized an opportunity when one presented itself.

"I made two more stops." He raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for her reaction. "Wanna hear about them?"

"Of course." Teagan had spoken more voluntary sentences in the past ten minutes than he’d said in three weeks.

"Before I . . ." He ran a hand through his hair. "You remember I love you, right?"

Feeling the first trace of unease, she nodded.

"You being the job expert and everything . . ." He dropped a kiss on the end of her nose. "I remembered what you said. . . about flying helicopters. I love that, by the way."

Bracing himself against a gust of rain that swept across the plaza, he tucked her close, sheltering her from the rain. In that moment, cocooned in his arms, Alyssa had never felt more cherished. No matter what he told her, it would be all right.

"So, I drove out to the Coast Guard office, like you suggested. Turns out they’re looking for pilots. I’m going back on the fifteenth."

"You’ve been very busy." She’d just snuggled into his chest when her head popped up, her gaze searching his. "You said two more stops. What was the last one?"

"I know this will be hard for you," he teased, "but I’m actually capable of making some decisions on my own." He released her for a moment to reach into his coat pocket. "My last stop was the most important one. I bought this."

Her heart stopped when he pulled a velvet box from his pocket. And then her stupid eyes misted over before she could even see the ring he’d picked out. A ring. Teagan had picked a ring. For her-

"Lyss-- you’re not supposed to cry." Enigmatic eyes flashed with worry. "No one said anything about crying." He groped in his pocket for a tissue.

She offered him a tremulous smile. "Crying is the best part."

She did a little more of it when he whispered the question she’d never imagined crossing his lips. And again when he slipped the fiery band on her finger, blessing it with a kiss. When her eyes were finally dry again, he pulled her closer. "Now that we're officially engaged . . . you know what I'd really love to do?"

Captivated by the beautiful, enigmatic man by her side, she realized his next words could be just about anything. "What?"

"I want to . . . date you," he admitted, his velvety eyes heating. "I want to share a pizza and a pitcher of beer. I want to . . . hold your hand across the table at dinner." Emboldened, he leaned down to kiss her nose. "I want to make out with you at the movies."

Surprised by the flush staining his cheeks, she smiled over the discovery that her soul mate was a secret romantic. "What about the Sox?"

Teagan glanced overhead. "With this rain today, there'll be a makeup doubleheader tomorrow."

Slipping her hand in his, they began the long walk across the esplanade. "It's a date. I'll take a vacation day."

"We still have some negotiating to do," he reminded. "Just because I love you doesn’t mean you’ll get your way all the time."

"What are you worried about?" She was going to love arguing with him. "You have my solemn promise I'll always try to agree with you."

"Lyss-" His forehead creased with disbelief.

"Try me."

He thought for several seconds. "Well-- that hellish fantasy you have about theme parks. . . driving a platoon of carsick kids fifteen hundred miles to blow several mortgage payments on a hot, sticky nightmare. . ."

She leaned up to plant a kiss on his cheek. His smile ignited a warm glow in her chest. "T, everything is negotiable-- especially fantasies."

He closed his eyes, relief visible in his relaxed expression-- over something that was at least several years away. "Thank God."

"We'll fly instead."

"Wait-- that's not-" He blinked, then shook his head. And then he started laughing. The joyous sound carried across the esplanade as he captured her hand in his.

* * *

Eight months later…

"Woman, damned if you don’t have the sweetest cheeks of any girl I’ve seen." Mullaney grinned his appreciation when Maddie swatted his hands from her behind.

"They’re old, tired cheeks, Sean. Not sweet. If you’re looking for sweet, you need to look a great deal younger."

"Like hell," he protested. "I like my women the same way I like my steak."

She raised a brow in anticipation of the rest of his sentence. When he refused to acquiesce, she rolled her eyes. "With too much salt?"

"Well-seasoned," he corrected. "And very tender."

"You forgot ‘bathed in steak sauce’." She ruffled his hair and smiled. He was such a ridiculous, old fool. But he was more fun than any of her previous husbands combined. Sorry, Geoffrey, she mentally apologized. More fun, even, than her beloved Geoffrey.

"Well, yeah. But you still won’t let me do that to you."

She cracked up. Even when he annoyed the hell out of her, Sean made her laugh. "I’m saving that for our anniversary."

"C’mon, Maddie-- let’s do it." He grabbed her hand, clutching it in his thick, callused fingers.

"Darling, I was joking about the steak sauce. I don’t do ‘sticky’."

He winced in mock aggravation. "Blast woman, not that. Marriage, love. Let’s run down to the church and get married. Father Patrick can probably squeeze us in before confession. We could actually shock the kids."

She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tight. Of all the things that could have possibly become an issue between them, she never would have guessed marriage would be one of them. "Sean, it’s too soon," she placated. "Besides, I love things the way they are. How would marriage change anything? We’re together all the time-"

"We’re livin' together, Maddie-- for nearly a year now. It ain’t the same thing," he objected. "Besides that, I got a daughter to raise. You don’t think this looks bad to her? What about your kids? They’re secretly appalled by us."

"Sweetheart, MaryJo will be thirty-two on her next birthday. She's all grown up." His expression swiftly turned disgruntled, as it always did when she pointed out the obvious. "I’m a grandmother once already. And judging by the way Teagan couldn't keep his hands off Alyssa at the wedding-- with any luck, we’ll be blessed with another baby next year."

"They're not even back from the honeymoon, love."

She patted his hand. Men simply didn't get it. "Sometimes a mother just knows." Surprised, she blinked back sudden tears. Her life-- at the moment-- was blissfully perfect. Her beautiful Alyssa had been radiant on her wedding day. By her side, a handsome, honorable man who would cherish her. Her sweet, lost boy Teagan-- who'd grown into a man any mother would be proud of. When Alyssa had started down the aisle at St. Mike's-- her new son-in-law's expression had given her goosebumps. A big, strong, protective guardian-- flummoxed by the sight of his beautiful wife.

The late afternoon light filtering into the sanctuary had seemed to radiate with love and strength and peace. And everyone knew-- when love took root, grandbabies soon followed.

Her son Matthew had found Juliet and now, there was little TJ-- napping in a crib down the hall. Lost in thought, she smiled, wondering whether baby number two was hopefully in the works. All that remained now was finding the perfect man for MaryJo. Maddie nodded. She'd have to see to that. And then maybe Howard . . . and perhaps Finnegan.

"What are you scheming now, love? I see that look in your eyes."

"Nothing." She smiled. "Just happy over our good fortune. Maybe we could . . . introduce a few friends to MaryJo-"

Sean snorted. "You leave my girl alone. She's happy bein' single." He took a swig of his beer. "Besides, I need her to come into the business with me. I want her to take over."

"Sean, darling . . . it's never going to happen." Mullaney needed a reality check. "She likes her auditing job. She only works undercover for you because she loves you." She leaned in to peck his lined cheek. "Just like I do."

"Madeline Stanhope-- I ain’t gonna keep askin’." Unswayed by her kiss, he glowered at her from behind his beer. "I’ve got my pride to consider. Now-- is there any hope you’ll decide you’re ready to marry me?"

Holding his leathery face between her hands, she kissed him lightly, acutely aware their bantering had suddenly turned serious. She ignored the frisson of panic skidding down her spine. "I adore you, Sean. I've never been happier than I am with you. I think you know that."

He sighed, the bluster leaving him. "I do, love."

She stroked his stubbled cheeks, loving how protected she felt with the old marine. "I know you think I’m silly to believe something might happen to you, but-"

"Dammit, woman," he interrupted, "I’m not going to drop dead the minute you marry me."

"Laugh if you want, but you can’t argue with three previous husbands. I’m the proverbial black widow. As soon as I sink my teeth into you, you’ll go toes up just like the rest of them. I’ll be picking out caskets with Father Patrick."

Sean squinted at her as though trying to get a bead on the erratic thoughts running through her head. After several uncomfortable seconds, he finally broke the tension with his slow, deep chuckle. It rumbled from the depths of his barrel chest, filling the room with the joyous sound. "Sweetcheeks, you’re great in the sack, but you’re not fatal."

"Instead of insisting on marriage, you should be running the opposite direction."

"Instead of thinking about death so much, you should concentrate on living." He softened his lecture with a kiss on the side of her neck. "Okay, darlin’ you win this round on a technicality. Right now, I’m wanting your body more than your hand in marriage."

His mouth lingered on the sensitive spot behind her ear and her breath caught in her throat. Damn him. He really had won.

"Let’s celebrate my victory. But once I’ve slaked my lust, it’s only fair to warn you I’ll be back for Round Two."

She smiled at the stubborn, loyal, wonderful man holding her hand. "I’m counting on it, Sean."

* * *