Kiel liked coffee—thick, rich coffee with cream and two sugars. He liked dark roast. None of those café or breakfast blends.

Once, he’d told me, he spent a month in New Orleans his sophomore year doing an internship on the crime beat. He’d fallen in love with rich coffee then, promising nowhere he’d been in the world had coffee as good as the Louisiana roasts he drank in New Orleans.

The cup in front of him was likely a poor substitute, but Kiel still sipped it, looking relaxed. He looked more in control than I’d ever seen him as Johnny sat across the table from him. It was an outdoor gourmet coffee shop that sold all variations of coffee along with specialty chocolate and was just a few blocks from Kiel’s hotel. I’d been here once before. They had good blends.

At the moment, though, I didn’t care about how good the coffee was. My only concern was getting my brother away from Kiel without the cops across the street or the kids at the table next to them getting caught up in whatever drama there would be.

And God, I knew there would be drama.

They sat only ten feet from me, just around the corner of the building. I could make out most of the conversation. It seemed, from what I heard, to be a game of insults delivered through mock calm and smooth smiles, none of which were sincere. The last they’d seen each other, Johnny and his boys were pulverizing Kiel’s body.

“Is it the money?” Johnny asked, his tone curious but still calm.

“I don’t need your money or hers.” Kiel wasn’t loaded. That much I’d found out when I had the PI check what he’d been up to. His background came back clear, and his work at the Seattle Times was proof enough that he was doing okay, but not remarkably well, writing on the crime beat.

“You’re too proud,” Johnny said, moving in his chair, the metal feet scraping against the cement below him. “You and my sister, you’re both too damn proud.”

“Your sister and I, as those pronouns work together, aren’t any of your business.”

“That,” Johnny said, voice slipping lower, “is where you’re wrong.” His voice that deep, his words that enunciated, signaled his anger. My big brother was getting pissed. It was never good when that happened.

“Let me paint you a scenario, Carelli. Just to recap, so we’re clear.”

Kiel never let his voice falter. The inflection didn’t rise. He didn’t get irritated and let his tone become clipped. He maintained his calm, not giving away any indication of his mood. It was a talent he’d always had, but as he continued speaking, I realized it was one talent he’d perfected.

“Five years ago, I chased down a lead. Money for the Bolton Mission not receiving all their donations. How the mission had seen a five percent drop in its output to the homeless community because of the missing donations. Donations raised by your father’s museum. Donations received when the new museum director, your little sister, took over. I go to the source, find out what I need to know from your sister. She’s more than willing to hand over her books to prove she wasn’t responsible.”

Kiel’s chair squeaked as he spoke, and he moved one hand as he continued. It was his only tic, the only thing that made his control slip, if just a bit. “It was a fluff piece given to me by a bored editor who wanted the intern out of his hair. I was eager. Desperate to make an impression. But I fucked up, like most kids do. I forgot to separate myself from the story. I forgot that the source should stay a source. The next thing I knew, your sister was at my apartment, in my bed, telling me everything I wanted to hear about how smart I was. How far I could go. All, I’m sure, to keep me off the story.”

Something sharp rattled in my chest, and my stomach dipped. Kiel thought I’d been responsible? He thought I’d taken money from the mission? How did I never know that?

“You think my sister stole from homeless people?” Johnny asked, his tone a little amazed.

“I think there are a lot of homeless people who got shafted when your sister was put in charge of the fund raiser. I know I did because even though she promised she loved me, even though she went as far as saying ‘I do’ when I convinced her to marry me, I still ended up accused of being a fucking stalker. My night ending with you and your meatheads beating my ribs in.” Kiel took a long sip of his coffee, his movements slow, his attention never leaving Johnny’s face. “Now she’s coming back around, asking me to pretend that she never lied about me or that you are accepting, sincere, and expect me to forget. I flew home to my people with broken ribs and a bloody face, all because your kid sister didn’t want your old man to know she’d lifted a hundred grand from a mission catering to folks without a pot to piss in.”

“Hell, man, you gotta learn to let shit go.”

In the reflection on the window to my right, I spotted Kiel’s expression. His mouth was set so straight and hard, his lips nearly disappearing behind his frown. Then he inhaled, shifting the line of his mouth into a half smirk. I stood away from the building, ready to pounce between them if they started fighting. That look on Kiel’s face was dangerous.

The half smirk stayed, and Kiel relaxed against his chair, leaning on his left elbow as he lifted his chin at my brother. “You ever forget about the fucker who took out your cousin Michael?”

I held my breath, trying not to curse at Kiel for the reminder. Michael had been a kid. Just twenty and under Johnny’s wing, wanting to learn the business at my brother’s side. But Ralphie Rizzo, a stupid kid from Newark, got it in his head that taking Michael out would clear the way for him at Johnny’s side. A bullet to Michael’s temple had nearly ruined my brother.

Johnny’s jaw worked, his eyes narrowing so small, I could hardly make out the whites in them before he shook his head.

“Never.” My brother shifted his hard stare, looking at Kiel like he was impressed. Probably unhappy that Kiel’d found out about Michael, but still impressed that he had.

Kiel shrugged, dismissing Johnny’s unspoken demand that he explain how he knew about the murder. “I’m a journalist, and your family fucked me over. You think I don’t watch my back?”

Johnny nodded, and the heat in his face dimmed.

Kiel didn’t relax his tight shoulders or loosen the stiffness in his arms, but when he spoke again, his tone was back to normal. “You won’t forget that asshole, and I won’t forget you or your sister. Kind of hard when it’s tied up in promises I meant when I made them.”

“You loved her.”

I released the breath I held when he answered, “Point is, I don’t now.”

Tired of the back-and-forth, I pushed away from the building and approached the table, glaring at my brother when he shot his attention to me. “I told you I’d handle this,” he said, nodding to Kiel.

“Uh-huh. It sounds like you’ve done a bang-up job.” I didn’t bother to look at Kiel when he coughed over his low laughter. Instead, I nodded toward the two guards near the sidewalk, both my brother’s men. “Papa needs you, and I need to have a conversation with Kiel.”

“Cara, you really shouldn’t…”

Johnny went silent, frowning when I glared at him, my nostrils flaring. I suspected he knew what I’d say. “Calling in my freebie.”

“Cara, this isn’t the time—”

“Sammy Nicola.”

Johnny grunted. He cursed under his breath before he exhaled, pushing back from his chair to stand. He reached into his pocket, drew out a fifty, and threw it on the table before he nodded at Kiel.

“Trust me on this, you think she was stubborn back then? She’s gotten a fuckton worse. Do the thing. Get your money and get it over with, or she’ll be on your balls forever.”

He nodded again at Kiel and ignored me completely. Then he left with his two guards, heading down the sidewalk.

I didn’t wait for Kiel to ask me to sit. If I was going to discuss anything with him, I didn’t want to wait.

“Kiel—”

“Who’s Sammy Nicola?” he asked, sounding amused, as though he hadn’t just asked me to reveal my brother’s most shameful secret. When I only watched him, head angled as I squinted, Kiel laughed. “You want me to get back in bed with your family. Maybe I wanna have something on your brother. Call it a good-faith request.”

I hesitated only for a second before I motioned the waitress over, pointing to Kiel’s cup and shooting two fingers at her. “Samantha Nicola,” I said, looking back at my husband. I still couldn’t shake the insult I felt at the revelation he made to Johnny, how he thought I was capable of stealing from a mission. But then, if I were Kiel, I suppose I wouldn’t put anything past me either. Didn’t mean the sting wasn’t there. “Seventeen-year-old niece of my father’s favorite priest. Beautiful girl.”

“He knock her up?” Kiel asked, sending a smile of thanks to the waitress when she delivered our coffee.

Around us, the group of kids finished up their iced coffee and headed down the sidewalk. There were people ambling by, like they didn’t see anyone or anything, and even the cops across the street had moved on. Right then, I was the only one holding Kiel’s attention.

“Took her virginity.” The coffee was rich, like I guessed, and I added three sugars and one cream to the mug to get the taste right. “She was set to go to St. Agnes that fall. Something she and her uncle had planned since she was ten. And then…well, Johnny happened.”

“I take it the priest found out.”

I nodded, remembering how freaked-out Johnny had been. Across the table, Kiel rolled his eyes, downing his coffee like it was water.

“And your father…”

“Still doesn’t know. Sammy decided she was in love with Johnny, and when the priest confronted him and demanded he marry the girl since he’d already taken her virtue, my brother paid them both off. Donations to the church for the insult and to the convent for the loss of their potential sister. Sammy didn’t feel worthy enough to go into the calling after that. It cost Johnny a lot. The priest told him he was a worthless Catholic who shamed his father’s good name and our mother’s precious soul by touching someone so pure and innocent. It was like a curse to Johnny. He said if our father ever found out, he’d up and join a monastery himself. Claims it’s his greatest shame.”

Kiel laughed behind his cup. “Like they’d take him.”

“Exactly what I told him.”

He watched me then, focused on my gaze. Did he feel the zip between us, that slow, barely there hum of chemistry shooting from my gaze to his? It wasn’t my imagination. I knew he wanted me. Last night was proof enough of that, but this was something more. Simple. Brief, but it was still there.

The thing, whatever it had been between us all those years ago, was still present. I knew I wasn’t imagining it.

“Last night…” I started, but I didn’t finish as Kiel shook his head, moving his shoulders down as though he was disappointed.

“Last night won’t be repeated.”

“Because you aren’t going to help me?” He didn’t answer, deciding, it seemed, to keep his thoughts and his answer to himself. I used the silence and his hesitation to my advantage, pulling out my purse. The clasp gave way when I opened it, and Kiel watched me as I took out the envelope and slid it across the table. “It’s yours if you want it.” I nodded at it. “That’s half. The rest comes after…” I trailed off on the rest of my explanation, knowing Kiel caught my meaning. “The job, though, it’s yours if you want it. Tomorrow. This afternoon. Just say the word.”

He picked up the envelope but didn’t open it. Instead, Kiel folded it in half, tapping the corner on the table as he watched me. I remembered that look—the down slip of his eyelids and the squint they moved into. The pinched corner of his mouth as he thought, considered everything he deemed worthy of weighing and sorting before he decided. It could last seconds, hours for the big decisions.

“Just like that,” he said finally, laying the envelope flat with his large hand over it. “Write a check, buy a husband, buy your way clear from a man you find repulsive.”

“It’s not that simple.” He didn’t think much of me, I knew that, but not all that long ago, Kiel had known me better than anyone. I wasn’t petty. Despite my response and description of Vinnie, I wasn’t shallow. “He only wants me because he wants my father’s…business.”

“Johnny has that.”

“Yeah, well, this isn’t exactly a business where obstacles stay obstacles for long.”

“Shit.” Kiel blew out a breath, abandoning the check and the table altogether as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Right back where I was again. That’s what you’re thinking? That I’m fine getting mixed up with you again?”

What could I say? That’s exactly what I wanted. That was what I needed to protect myself and my father’s company.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t easy, but that was the truth.

I decided that’s what Kiel deserved from me.

“I need you to protect me.”

Something shifted in his expression then. The irritated worry that wrinkled Kiel’s forehead smoothed out. “What do you mean?”

“I’d never ask unless it was important to my family. After…Michael, we’ve had to watch ourselves.” I moved closer, leaning on my elbows and lowering my voice. “My father is sick and getting sicker. He’s not thinking clearly. He’s not thinking at all. He’s worried he’ll die and I’ll be left alone with only Johnny to watch after me. But Johnny will be…taking over. He’ll have other things to occupy his attention. Papa doesn’t want me to be left unguarded. If you came back, after I explained, after I told him the truth, then he’d be easy, I think. He’d realize what a bad idea Vinnie in our family is.”

Kiel laughed but didn’t seem amused. “Cara, I’m a big, Protestant Samoan from Seattle. I’m not white. I’m not Catholic, and I damn sure am not Italian. You think your father is gonna welcome me with open arms?”

“If he thinks I love you, yes. He will.” I let my breathing settle, unused to the scrutiny Kiel was giving me. I knew what he was thinking. There likely wasn’t much good in his head about me. There was likely even less belief that I could fake loving him. I saw the thoughts in his expression and did my best to ignore them. “None of that other stuff will matter as long as I’m…happy.”

“You’re that good of an actor?” Kiel asked, face coming closer, and I wondered if he moved nearer on purpose. I wondered if he’d ever believed me if I told him the truth.

“I can be believable,” I said, ignoring the question.

“Don’t I fucking know it.”

There was no point trying to convince him. He had the check. He had my offer, and if I sat at that table any longer, Kiel’s face, his wide, wild eyes, would have me begging to get back to where we were last night.

I’d had his cock in my mouth, getting off myself on hearing the way he moaned. How he loved the way I sucked him, the way I hummed against his skin. The power was overwhelming. The pleasure he’d gotten was a high of its own.

Then he’d kicked me out and took away the small connection I’d offered him. That hurt almost as much as his thinking I was a thief.

“You let me know what you decide, please,” I said, standing from the table. I pushed down my skirt, unwilling to look at Kiel again. It had been too much. “I can’t put off Vinnie or my father forever, so we’re on a time crunch.”

No goodbyes. No more pleas. I walked away from Kiel, knowing he was watching me, feeling the heavy fire that burned my skin from his sharp gaze.

I’d taken five steps, was nearly to the sidewalk, when Kiel called after me. “Hey, Cara, what’s your greatest shame? You deflower a priest in training?”

I stopped, glancing at him over my shoulder. “No priests in training,” I started, looking him over, a deep wrinkle pinching between my eyebrows. “I broke the heart of this big, Protestant Samoan. Worst damn thing I’ve ever done.”

I turned and walked away before he could respond. Before I thought too long about the look he’d given me at my confession. I couldn’t let myself believe it was anything but my imagination telling me what that look meant. It looked a lot like love, but Kiel Kaino would never look at me like that.

Not me.

Not ever again.