Chapter 2

“Are you sitting down?”

“Of course I am. What else would I be doing?”

Riley laughed. “You could be pacing. I had a feeling you were pacing.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t feel like someone’s pacing.”

“It’s a twin thing,” Riley said seriously and then started laughing again. “Sometimes you make it too easy, Owen!”

“Ha-ha,” Owen replied dryly. “If you remember correctly, we’re supposed to be Skyping. Why aren’t we Skyping? And for that matter, why does it matter if I’m pacing or sitting?”

“First of all, something’s up with the computer. Savannah’s looking at it now, so maybe we’ll be able to switch over in a few minutes.”

“Oh.”

“Maybe I should wait until we are…”

“Are what?” Owen asked, not following his brother’s train of thought.

“Skyping.”

“Ah…no. We’ll be fine talking until then. What’s going on?”

“I have some news.”

“Okay.”

“Savannah’s pregnant. We’re having a baby! Can you believe it?” Riley asked excitedly.

Could he believe it? Yes. Biology was relatively clear, and Owen had no doubt his brother and his wife were… Well, that wasn’t important, and he didn’t think Riley wanted to hear what he remembered from biology class about how babies were made.

“Um…Owen? You still there?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Congratulations!” he said happily and realized he really was excited about this news. His brothers were all getting married and having babies, but…this was Riley. His twin. This baby just meant a little…more. “So…have you started picking baby names yet?”

Riley chuckled. “It’s a bit soon for that, but—”

“I know you. You already have names in mind. You’re probably going to make Savannah crazy over the next nine months with them.”

“I wouldn’t say crazy…but yeah. I’ve already got a list of names going.”

“How is Savannah feeling? Is she okay? Has she had any morning sickness?”

“Not yet, but it’s still real early in the pregnancy. She’s only six weeks along. Her doctor said it could hit at any time or not at all. There’s no way of knowing if she’ll get sick or not. Of course, we’re hoping she doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Seventy-five percent of pregnant women experience morning sickness,” Owen replied. “It’s most common in the first twelve weeks, or the first trimester, but some women have it throughout their entire pregnancy. And it’s not just limited to the morning, you know.”

“Well, that settles it.”

“Settles what?”

“You’re not allowed to talk to Savannah yet. You’ll freak her out if you start talking statistics like that to her. She’s feeling good, and she’s optimistic about the whole pregnancy thing, and I want her to stay that way.”

Owen felt terrible. It wasn’t something he even thought about—sharing statistics and scientific facts about the things he knew. But this was the first time he realized how sometimes those statements could upset the people around him. And he certainly didn’t want to upset Savannah.

“I…I’m sorry. I won’t say anything like that again,” he stammered. “I promise. Please don’t let me freak her out. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Dude, all you do is think,” Riley said, but he said it with humor. “It’s one of the things we all love about you. But right now Savannah’s emotions are…well…they’re all over the place, and I never know what’s going to set her off. She’s cries a lot lately—like at the drop of a hat. I came home today and found her on our closet floor crying.”

“What happened? Was she hurt?”

“Nope. She was putting laundry away and realized our hangers didn’t all match.” He gave a small chuckle. “I mean…who cares about matching hangers?”

“Obviously, your wife does,” Owen reasoned.

“This is what I’m saying—she’s emotional. I’m not used to seeing her like this—she’s normally very calm and levelheaded, and to see her crying all the time? It’s killing me. And we’ve still got, like…months to go!”

“Thirty-four weeks.”

“You’re not helping, Owen!”

“Sorry.” He took a minute to collect his thoughts. “Okay, so…you’re having a baby. You’re going to be a dad. Are you freaking out?”

“I love how you don’t beat around the bush.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t tell me Quinn, Hugh, and Aidan haven’t said the same thing to you already.”

“They haven’t,” Riley said evenly.

“Really? They haven’t? Why not?”

“Because I haven’t told them yet.”

“What?” Owen cried.

“You’re the first to know. I haven’t even told Dad yet.”

“But…but…why?”

“Are you seriously asking me that? Owen…you and me? We’re like…one. This is the biggest thing to ever happen to me. Of course you’re the first one I’m going to tell.”

A lump the size of a golf ball lodged itself in Owen’s throat. More than anything he wished he were in the same room with his brother so he could hug him. “I…I’m honored.”

They were silent for a moment. “I am scared,” Riley said softly.

And now even more, Owen wished they were together. “Why?”

“Savannah grew up as an only child, and we grew up in relative chaos. I know we were a little bit older when Darcy was born, so being around babies doesn’t freak me out, but…it’s just so much, you know?”

Owen didn’t, but he figured he’d let his brother speak.

“Dad worked so much when we were growing up, and he missed a lot. I don’t want to do that. I want to be there for everything. I don’t want it to be on Savannah’s shoulders to do all the parenting like it was for Mom for so long.”

“So you’ll be there,” Owen said reasonably. “You can control your schedule, Ry. That’s the beauty in what you do. Your family can come on tour with you. And think of all the amazing things you’ll be able to show him…or her.”

Riley sighed loudly. “Yeah, I know, but…but what if something happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like with Mom,” he said, and Owen could feel the sadness his brother was feeling. “What if something were to happen to Savannah, and then it was just me and the baby?”

“You can’t think like that, Riley,” Owen said carefully. “You just can’t.”

“It’s kind of hard not to. I mean, I get it. I know we have no control over things like that. Accidents happen all the time, but… I don’t know. Maybe Savannah’s not the only one who’s emotional right now. Maybe this is sympathy emotions. Is that even a thing?” he asked with a nervous chuckle.

“Probably not,” Owen replied, laughing a little.

“Okay, so…distract me. Tell me what’s going on with you. How are your lectures going?”

“They’re okay.”

Riley sighed loudly again. “Owen…”

“What?”

“What is going on with you? You sound even more…I don’t know…disenchanted than you usually do.”

“I usually sound disenchanted? Since when? When did that start? Why haven’t you mentioned it before?”

“Okay, maybe that’s not the right word, but…you sound different. What’s up?”

The last thing Owen wanted to do was burden his brother, especially now, but maybe talking about his situation would help him.

“A beautiful woman wants to go to the desert with me,” Owen blurted out before he could stop himself.

“Holy shit! What?” Riley cried. “Wait, wait, wait. Start at the beginning and go slow. I have a feeling you’ve left out some key information here.” He paused, and Owen could hear his brother murmuring something to Savannah. “Hold on.”

It was Owen’s turn to sigh, and the next thing he knew, his laptop was beeping with an incoming Skype call. Great. Now Riley would not only get to hear how freaked out he was, but he’d be able to see it too. Clicking on the icon, Owen accepted the call and couldn’t help but smile when his brother’s face filled the screen. “I take it Savannah figured out the problem?”

Riley chuckled. “Um…yeah. Apparently, I forgot to plug the damn thing in earlier, so it was dead. And then we couldn’t find the charger because I left it down in the studio. So basically it was all my fault.” He laughed again. “As usual. I hate all this electronic crap. It’s hard to keep track of it all.”

“Not really. If you keep a universal charger in key areas of your home, then you won’t have to—”

“Stop trying to change the subject and go back to the beautiful woman in the desert!”

“Oh…right,” Owen mumbled and then went on to tell Riley about his meeting with Howard and Brooke. Owen hadn’t spoken long when Riley interrupted him.

“I have to stop you right there. Are you telling me her name is Brooke Matthews? Seriously?”

Owen sagged with a bit of embarrassment. “So you know who this famous Brooke is too?”

“Dude, everyone knows who she is. She used to be one of the biggest models in the world, and she’s a great actress and a spokesperson for several big companies. You have to know who she is.”

“I had to use Google.”

Riley groaned lightly. “I know you watch television, Owen.”

“I do, but…it’s normally documentaries or the History Channel. I don’t watch a lot of what’s popular on television. Besides, it’s not a crime for me not to know the name of a model.”

“Have you seen her?” he teased. “Yes, it is.”

“Can we move on from this? I was explaining to you about how this Brooke Matthews is Howard’s niece and why he thought she and I should work together.”

“You’re right, you’re right. Sorry. Go on.”

Owen went on to describe their conversation and how Brooke was an artist.

“So…wait. She’s an artist, and she wants to paint in the desert?” Riley asked.

Owen nodded.

“But Howard thinks she’d make a good assistant? How? Why? I mean, I get the whole two birds with one stone thing, but if she’s just interested in painting, what good is she going to be to you?”

“She claims she’s also good at organizing things, and Howard feels…” He paused, shaking his head. He hated to have to admit this again—even to Riley. “He feels I need someone to help me learn how to be better at social interaction.”

He expected his brother to laugh—or at the very least grin.

But he didn’t.

If anything, Riley looked fierce and pissed off.

“I hope you told them both to go to hell,” Riley said firmly.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Then he stopped and took a calming breath. “Owen, there isn’t a damn thing wrong with you. You’re an amazing scientist, and you love what you do. That’s all that should matter. Who cares if you can make social chitchat with people? The truth is you talk about the things that are important to you. And, if memory serves, this whole project out in Nevada is about teaching people about the meteors. So…why are they harping on this social skills thing? You know how to talk about meteors and the planets and the stars! That’s what they’re paying you to go there and talk about, not about pop culture or whatever current event people are gossiping about!” He cursed. “That’s just bullshit!”

If there was one thing Owen loved about his brother, it was how, no matter what, Riley was fiercely defensive of him. No matter what the situation was, Riley had Owen’s back, and it was at times like this that Owen was grateful.

“It’s not so bad. Really. I…I do need to work on my social skills. Maybe then I’d be a little less of a—”

“Don’t say it.”

Owen frowned and looked at his brother. “Not saying it doesn’t make it any less true, Ry. I’m a freak—socially. I’m not comfortable around people.”

“You do fine around us.”

“That’s family, and it’s different, and even then…you guys all make fun of me from time to time. I know it, and I’m okay with it.”

“We don’t make fun,” Riley said with a hint of defensiveness. “You’re just very overwhelming. You make the rest of us feel like idiots.”

“That’s not my intention. Ever. I…I have so much going on in my brain, and sometimes stuff comes out before I can stop it. It usually isn’t until after I’ve said something that I realize how ridiculous it sounds. I mean…no one wants to hear random statistics spouted out at them all the time. I wish I could change it, I do, but I don’t know how!”

“Okay,” Riley said, sounding calmer. “Then maybe this Brooke person isn’t such a bad idea.”

“That just sounds…wrong.”

“Hear me out—if Howard recommended her, then you know you can trust her. I know how close you and Howard are, and you know he wouldn’t steer you wrong, right?”

“Steer me? He’s not driving me anywhere.”

“Figure of speech, Bro. Try to keep up,” Riley teased. “All I’m saying is if you need an assistant on this trip, and it seems like you do, then maybe you should take her up on the offer. And you said she’s beautiful, right?”

Owen nodded. “I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.”

Riley rolled his eyes. “Do you have something against beautiful women?”

“Not exactly.”

That fierce look was back on Riley’s face. “Was she mean to you? Did she say anything to upset you? And for that matter, do you think Howard would even suggest this working scenario to you if she was going to make you uncomfortable?”

“All women make me uncomfortable,” Owen reminded him.

“You do better than you think. You’re totally at ease with Savannah, Zoe, Aubrey, Anna, and Darcy.”

“That’s because they’re all family now—and Darcy’s our sister! It’s not the same thing.”

“It’s exactly the same thing!”

“So you’re saying I should look at Brooke like she’s my sister?” He gave a mirthless yet nervous laugh. “I don’t think that’s even possible.”

“Ah…so you do find her attractive!”

Ugh. He always hated talking about women with his brother—any of his brothers. They were all so at ease with the opposite sex while Owen was…not. He could actually feel his face turning red and suddenly wished they had stuck to just talking on the phone.

“Tell me about her,” Riley prompted, and Owen knew he wasn’t going to be able to avoid doing so.

“She’s beautiful,” he started. “When she walked into the lecture hall, I was… I don’t even know how to describe it. Honestly, no more than the sight of her left me speechless. Besides the fact that women like her don’t normally take my classes or come to hear me speak, she walked in and…the entire room was brighter.”

A slow grin tugged at Riley’s lips, but he stayed silent.

“When she approached me after class and then I was close to her, I realized she was more than beautiful—that word seemed too small to describe her. She smiled, and her entire face glowed,” he said with awe. “Fair skin, light-blue eyes, and she has this amazing long blond hair. You just know it would feel soft.”

Riley’s smile grew, but Owen wasn’t paying attention; he was too lost in remembering everything about Brooke.

“And she talked to me like…you know…like I was normal. She seemed excited to work with me.” He paused and remembered the sweet sound of her voice as she talked about her skills. “And then there’s her art. Her paintings. Riley, they were… I’ve never seen anything like them before. Maybe in a museum, but…” Owen trailed off, unable to find the right words.

By now Riley was grinning like a loon.

“When I picked them up, I felt like I was actually touching the sky—the entire universe! She has this way of making the colors draw you in, and then there’re the textures, and the way she sees them is almost…magical.”

Riley’s face came close to the screen. “Magical? Did you seriously just use the term magical?”

“Um—”

“You, Owen Shaughnessy, don’t believe in things like that. You’ve never looked at anything that way. You’re a man of science. Of practicality. Even with the most whimsical of things, you tend to look at them in a logical and pragmatic way. And you’re sitting here telling me Brooke’s work is magical?”

Owen hung his head. “I know. This is a terrible idea, right? I shouldn’t even be considering it.”

“Hold on.” This came from Savannah, who was pushing her husband aside so she could be seen on the screen. “Owen? Look at me.”

Her tone was sweet but firm, and knowing she was a little fragile at the moment, Owen did as she asked without arguing.

“Do not listen to your brother.” She playfully slapped Riley on the back of the head. “If you think her work is magical, then I think that’s great! And if you had that strong of a reaction to it, then she is truly talented. Don’t feel bad about how you feel!”

“I…I wasn’t. I know Riley was teasing. And he’s right. I never look at anything that way, but when Brooke walked into the room in her flowy skirt and bracelets, she reminded me of…” He stopped and shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Oh, no,” Riley said. “You can’t get out of it that easy. Finish the sentence.”

“Riley,” Savannah sighed, bumping her husband’s shoulder. “Leave him alone.”

“Hell no. Do you know this has never happened?” He looked at his wife with a big grin still in place. “Owen never gets like this over a girl. Never.”

“Well…” Owen stammered.

Riley sighed and gave another exaggerated eye roll. “Okay, he was mildly intrigued by you when he first met you, and he was the one to convince me to stop being such an ass around you, but still. This is different.” He turned back to the screen and leaned in close again. “Out with it. What did she remind you of?”

“A fairy. A gypsy. A nymph,” he said, his face flaming. “It… I…I never—”

“Okay, okay,” Riley said, sitting back and looking satisfied. “We get it. You’re totally crushing on her right now. Which makes this whole situation perfect.”

“Oh, this I must hear,” Savannah said, grinning.

“Hear me out—again. If you let Brooke help you on this project and you find you’re comfortable around her, then it’s a game changer.”

Owen wasn’t following.

“If you can sit and comfortably talk with a beautiful woman—have conversations with her that aren’t just you spouting encyclopedia passages—then it’s going to completely change your world, Bro.”

“I think you’re oversimplifying this.”

Riley shook his head. “Nuh-uh. No way. Trust me on this. Girls make you nervous in general. Pretty girls make you more than a little uncomfortable. Beautiful women practically render you catatonic. Now, according to your theory, you can get over it when you’re related to them—like all of your sisters-in-law—but not any other way. Maybe by spending time with Brooke, you’ll relax and see she’s just like everyone else.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Owen, you just met her, and from what you described, it lasted all of fifteen minutes. Don’t write her off yet.”

“I’m not writing her off,” Owen said defensively and then huffed with agitation. Why did he have to keep explaining himself over and over and over? “I like Brooke. A lot. And spending time with her? Um…it’s not going to do anything but make me even more attracted to her!”

Once again Savannah slapped Riley on the back of the head. “Stop giving your brother bad advice.” She shook her head and looked into the camera. “Owen, the decision has to be yours, and you need to be comfortable. While Riley might be onto something, the fact remains you have an important event you’re prepping for, and you have to decide if you need the distraction.”

“Distraction?” he questioned.

“Brooke.”

“Ah.”

“Personally, I don’t think you’re so bad with the opposite sex,” she said with a wink.

“Hey!” Riley cried with a bit of outrage. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means,” she said with an exaggerated sigh, “the first time Owen and I met, he did just fine putting me in my place. He was uncomfortable, but I think it had more to do with what was going on between you and me. So I say he doesn’t need to do some sort of crazy social experiment with Brooke. If he wants her with him on this project, it should be because she’ll be an asset to him professionally. Not personally.”

Riley shook his head and scooted his wife out of the camera frame. “Now who’s offering bad advice?” he teased before looking back at Owen. “If you ask me, I think she sounds perfect all the way around.”

“But…what if she…you know…doesn’t like me?”

A look of understanding crossed Riley’s face. “It’s a chance we all have to take at one time or another, Owen. No one likes it, and, let’s be honest, rejection sucks. But…not everyone gets rejected. And for all you know, she might be crushing on you a little bit too.”

Somehow Owen greatly doubted that, but rather than argue about the subject, he decided to let it go.

“So, Savannah…talk to me about baby names.”

* * *

“I don’t think he’s going to call.”

“He never said he would.”

Brooke sat and watched as her uncle contemplated his next chess move. They were out in his yard, a small piece of land with a tiny garden and an all-season game table where he loved to play chess. It wasn’t a particular favorite of hers, but he enjoyed it, so she indulged him. Chess had been her brother’s game. He and Howard would play for hours. Even now she could still picture the two of them sitting out here playing.

“But…how am I supposed to know if he’s going to hire me?”

Sighing, Howard reached across the table and patted his niece’s hand. “Patience. Owen Shaughnessy doesn’t make decisions lightly. Or quickly. We’ve planted the seed, and now…we wait.”

Her eyes went a little wide, and she shivered in the cool afternoon breeze. There was an outdoor heater beside them, but for the life of her, she wished they could just go inside. “For how long?”

Howard shrugged. “As long as he needs.”

This was not the news she had been hoping for. Brooke felt as if she was on the cusp of doing something great, and the thought of having to sit around and wait until she knew if she was finally going to get to paint in the desert—safely and with her family’s blessing—was making her crazy.

“Can’t you…you know…call him? Prompt him? Make sure he’s even considering it? Because if he’s not, then I’d like to start looking at other options.”

“Brooke, sometimes you need to be a little less impulsive. Waiting another day or two isn’t a big deal.” He looked at her, saw her shiver again. “You want a heavier sweater?”

Ignoring his question, she went back to the topic they were already on. “But it’s already been a week, and you just said it could take a while,” she reminded.

“No, what I said is Owen doesn’t make decisions quickly.”

“Same difference.”

“Hardly.”

Now it was her turn to sigh. “Okay. Fine. What do you suggest I do? Do I go to see him tomorrow? Maybe just pop in and remind him of our conversation?”

Howard thoughtfully considered her for a moment and then started to smile. “Actually, I think that is a marvelous idea.”

Relief washed over her. “You do? Seriously? Because I was thinking of bringing him my résumé and telling him about all of the work I did on committees back in college and how that experience would come in handy for this trip. And—”

Howard stood, shook his head, and reached down to move his bishop. “That won’t do. What you need is to stop in and say hello. No pressure. No sales pitch. Maybe sit in on the entire lecture this time.”

She blushed at the reminder of her showing up late. “What good will that do?”

“Like I said, Owen doesn’t make decisions lightly. And he certainly doesn’t do well under pressure, so if you go in there at full throttle, trying to convince him to hire you, you’ll more than likely scare him off. Trust me on this one. I’ve known him for a very long time.”

Brooke watched as her uncle turned to walk into the house. “What if he doesn’t want me?” she blurted out and then realized how that sounded. “I mean…what if he doesn’t want to hire me?” She hated the desperation in her voice.

Her uncle smiled at her—a smile that was part sympathy, part pleasure. “It’s good to see you believe this isn’t going to be handed to you.”

Sometimes she hated when his comments came out sounding like Yoda’s. “What does that even mean?”

“It means there was a time when you thought the world owed you everything, that you didn’t have to earn it or work for it. Sort of like a game of chess. It makes you think. It’s not just about skipping around the board, you have to put a lot of effort into every move. Your brother used to love it.”

She rubbed her temple at her uncle’s lengthy statement. “And this has to do with Dr. Shaughnessy…how?”

“Go see him tomorrow. For the entire class. Take notes. Learn a little about what he’s doing.”

“But…”

But Howard had already gone inside.

Sighing, Brooke sat and rested her face in her hands. Patience wasn’t her thing. She was more of a get-it-done kind of girl, and that meant always being on the move and in action, not waiting around for the phone to ring. True, it had only been a week, but she had thought she and Howard had presented a great opportunity to Owen Shaughnessy.

Owen.

Or was she supposed to refer to him as Dr. Shaughnessy? Professor Shaughnessy?

Her immediate impulse was to call him Owen—it was more personal, and she had a feeling he would probably prefer that to the stuffy title. How she knew, Brooke wasn’t sure, but she just…did.

Weird.

Deep down, Brooke felt confident she could be an asset to…Owen. She smiled. They would be assets to one another—she would help him feel more at ease with his students on this trip, and she would get to paint in the one place she was dying to with everyone’s blessings.

Why was it so important to get her family’s permission to take this trip? Well, she owed them. Her parents had become more and more protective of her over the past several years—and with good reason—and the last thing she wanted to do was cause them any more undue stress. So if that meant not going to the desert without a strong support system around her, then she’d wait.

Sometimes it was hard to do what was right. The old her—the girl who used to be selfish and frivolous and uncaring of other people’s feelings—wanted to come out and stomp her foot and demand to be heard. And sometimes it was hard to push that girl aside and remember who she was now—who she needed to be and why. Not that she didn’t like the woman she had grown into. She did. On every level, Brooke was proud of who she was now.

She just hated remembering the person she had been.

That was one of the reasons this position with Owen Shaughnessy was so damn important. She’d get to paint and…she’d get to help him. Swallowing the painful lump of emotion that instantly clogged her throat, Brooke wandered back to the guest room her uncle had transformed into a temporary studio for her.

Blank canvases lined the walls, and there were several easels collapsed in the corner and one set up on a tarp in the middle of the room. She’d been here for almost three weeks and hadn’t picked up a paintbrush yet.

That was about to change.

With a long stretch to help herself relax, Brooke started making her way around the room to set up. Within minutes she had her hair pulled back and her favorite smock on to protect her clothes. Her paints were organized on her palette, and Taylor Swift’s 1989 was playing on her iPod.

Stepping up to the canvas, Brooke dipped her brush into the blue paint and was about to touch it to the canvas when she stopped. As she’d been setting up, in her mind, she knew she was going to paint the desert—the way she’d seen it in pictures—but with her own twist on it. But now that the brush was in her hand and the canvas was in front of her, her subject changed. Turning, she put the palette down, rinsed her brush, and wiped her hands on her smock as her heart began to pound.

It had been so long since she’d painted anything other than the skies and landscapes that she was almost afraid to get started, afraid that once the first stroke of paint was on the canvas, she’d realize she’d made a mistake. But rather than letting that twinge of fear stop her, Brooke took a deep breath and picked the brush back up again.

She took in her palette with the primary colors—yellow, blue, red—and began to mix them together. With a hint of white, she continued to blend until she refined the colors to her liking. When she glanced up at her canvas, it wasn’t blank. There, before her eyes, she could see what she was going to paint, what she was going to create, and it made her smile.

Her hand began to move, color began to cover the surface, and her subject began to take form. In the background, Taylor Swift sang of wildest dreams, while in front of her, Brooke’s was taking shape.

It was amazing—how fluid it all felt, how confident her strokes were. Her shoulder began to cramp, but she refused to stop—couldn’t have even if she had wanted to. So she worked through the discomfort, refusing to call it pain. Every so often, she would step back and critique what she’d done, but immediately she’d return to the canvas with more color.

Every time Brooke had picked up her brush in the past, she had been inspired. She loved what she did and received great pleasure from the art she was able to create. But this? This wasn’t simply inspiration that had her painting like a woman possessed.

This was art on an emotional level she didn’t know existed.

This was coming from a place within that had yet to be defined.

And as silence filled the room after Taylor’s last breath, Brooke stepped back and stared in wonder at the painting before her.

And looked into the eyes of Owen Shaughnessy.

* * *

The next day, Brooke made her way to the lecture hall and checked her watch to ensure she was early. It wasn’t enough to be on time; she had to get to the room, get inside, and find a seat so she could observe Owen in a way she hadn’t on her previous visit.

Of course, he was there already, standing at the front of the room, behind the podium, and reading his notes. At least, she guessed that was what he was doing. There were several students already seated, and as Brooke made her way up the aisle to a higher seat, she stopped and turned to look at him.

And found him looking right back at her.

Heat flooded her cheeks, and she was thankful to be standing so far away. Smiling, she gave a small wave and then turned to find a seat—which wasn’t what she wanted to do at all. Nope. Her first instinct was to turn, walk back down the steps, go over, and say hello to him.

If you go in there at full throttle trying to convince him to hire you, you’ll more than likely scare him off. Trust me on this one. I’ve known him for a very long time.

Her uncle’s words came back to her, and Brooke knew she was doing the right thing. No matter how wrong it felt. She finally chose a seat right on the center aisle, so she could see Owen clearly, and pulled out her notebook. Looking around, she noticed how all of the other students in the room had laptops or tablets, but—call her crazy—she still liked the feel of putting pen to paper. And besides, it wasn’t as if she were taking the class. The only notes would have to do with topics that might come up on the Nevada trip.

Meteor showers, right?

All of a sudden, she couldn’t remember what, specifically, the purpose of the trip was other than going to watch the meteor shower. Damn it! Maybe she should have brought her laptop with her. Ugh.

At the front of the hall, Owen cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention, and Brooke instantly sat up straighter.

“Good afternoon,” he said, his voice loud but not overly confident. “Today we’re going to continue on our topic with the discussion of dust tails and dust trails. As you should know, there are two types of comet tails: dust and gas ion.” He looked up to make sure no one had any questions so far, and then he returned to the notes in front of him.

“A dust tail contains small, solid particles that are approximately the same size as those found in cigarette smoke. This tail forms because sunlight pushes on these small particles, gently shoving them away from the comet’s nucleus. Because the pressure from sunlight is relatively weak, the dust particles end up forming a diffuse, curved tail.”

Behind Owen, a screen diagrammed everything he was saying, and Brooke found herself fascinated. She studied the picture and wondered how she could replicate it with acrylics. When he started speaking again, she forced herself to stop looking at the screen and focus on him.

“Gas ion tails form when ultraviolet sunlight rips one or more electrons from gas atoms in the coma, making them into ions in a process called…” He looked up to see if anyone could fill in the blanks.

“Ionization?” someone called out.

“Exactly,” Owen replied with a small smile. And Brooke felt a fluttering in her belly.

She was in serious trouble here.

Stuff like this didn’t happen to her. She didn’t get crushes—certainly not at her age—and she was beginning to feel utterly ridiculous at her schoolgirl reaction to Owen Shaughnessy. Brooke was comfortable with the amount of men she’d dated in her twenty-eight years of life, and even though most of them were shallow jocks who were full of flash, she’d never reacted to any of them the way she was right now to this shy and quiet astrophysicist.

“And at that point, the solar wind will carry those ions straight outward away from the sun. The resulting tail is straight and narrow. However, both types of tails may extend millions of kilometers into space.” Owen lifted his head and scanned the room again, and when his gaze landed on Brooke, she smiled. And when he smiled back, she felt like she had been given a gift.

Maybe her uncle was right. Maybe being here in the lecture hall and observing Owen teaching a class and listening to what he was saying was the smarter way to go. If she had gone to him when she arrived in the classroom earlier, she may have spooked him—crazy as it sounded—and could have possibly ruined her chances to work with him. Maybe if he saw how she was taking this seriously, it would make him feel a little more at ease with her.

She could only hope.

“When that happens, and the comet heads away from the sun, its tail will dissipate, its coma will disappear, and the matter contained in its nucleus will freeze into a rocklike material.”

Now she had no idea what he was talking about. She’d lost track of the point of the lecture and had to curse herself. Vowing to pay better attention, she put her pen to paper and started to write down as much as she could.

Thirty minutes later, she had drawn the lecture hall and Owen standing at the podium.

She was in deep trouble if she didn’t get her head in the game. There was no way someone as brilliant and as esteemed as Owen Shaughnessy was going to let her come on as his assistant for an important project when all she was capable of was doodling in a notebook because she couldn’t focus on what was being said and taught.

Quickly turning the page, she once again straightened in her seat and listened as one of the students raised his hand to ask a question.

“Yes, Mr. Kelly,” Owen said, motioning to the student.

“Can you explain the difference between a meteoroid and a meteor?”

Owen looked confused for a moment, as if wondering why this question was being asked at this particular point in time, and Brooke found herself leaning forward in her seat, anxiously waiting to see if he would comment on the timing of the question or simply answer it.

“A meteoroid is a small fracture of rock that travels around our solar system. Once this meteoroid enters Earth’s atmosphere, it becomes a meteor. And when it becomes visible to us, this meteor can be seen in the sky as a shooting star. And if it manages to land on the ground, it becomes a meteorite.” He paused. “So you can see how they are one and the same.”

Huh, she thought. Look at that. She’d learned her first real meteor fact. And not wanting to leave anything to chance, she quickly wrote it down in her notebook.

For the next hour, her notes were more sporadic, and there were times when she found it completely impossible to keep her mind from wandering. The PowerPoint presentation helped, but overall, it was hard to stay focused. At least for her it was. Maybe this was the sort of thing she could help Owen with—putting together a more dynamic presentation so his students would engage more. She was about to get excited when it hit her—maybe this was the way scientists engaged. Maybe she was the odd one out here because she didn’t understand the subject matter.

She made a quick mental note to talk to her uncle about that.

As the class came to a close, Brooke stayed in her seat and watched as the hall emptied out. Several students stayed behind to talk to Owen about one thing or another—she couldn’t hear from where she was sitting, but it gave her an opportunity to observe him as he interacted with his students.

For the most part, he seemed fine—although a little stiff—and he was oh so serious. Maybe whatever it was they were talking about required a serious response, but she had a feeling a little humor or a smile couldn’t hurt. He had patience. The last student to stop to talk to him had been the one who had asked the meteorite-versus-meteor question and a list of others over the course of the class. She had to wonder why he was even taking the class if there was so much he didn’t seem to understand.

Then she wanted to smack herself for being judgmental. Not everyone learned at the same pace, and as long as he was willing to ask the questions and Owen was willing to answer them, who was she to judge? Feeling like she was being rude for staring at them, she began putting her notebook and pen away, and organizing her purse while she waited for them to be done.

“Thanks, Dr. Shaughnessy,” she heard the student say. “I appreciate the help. See you next week.”

Brooke stood up, straightened her skirt, and fidgeted with her hair for a moment before she made her way down the stairs toward Owen. He watched her descend warily. When she reached the bottom, she smiled. “Hi.”

“Oh…um…hi. Brooke,” he stammered.

She stepped closer to the podium and saw him take a small step back. “So I figured I’d come for an entire class today,” she teased lightly and immediately realized he didn’t quite get the joke. “You know…since I showed up late for the last one.”

“Ah,” he replied with a nod. “It wasn’t necessary. It’s not like I’m taking attendance on you.”

Brooke immediately relaxed. In his own way, she knew, he was making a joke, so she chuckled. “It’s a good thing because showing up late for my first class would not look good on my record.”

And this time, when she laughed, Owen laughed with her.

“I…I haven’t come to a decision about the position yet,” he said, his gaze focused on the floor and not on Brooke.

“Oh, that’s okay,” she said, quickly trying to put him at ease. “I just came to hear today’s lecture. I felt awful about the other day, and…well…I was kind of curious about those dust trails and tails.”

His head snapped up, and he looked at her with a hint of disbelief. “Really?”

Brooke nodded and then smiled as Owen began to relax. “I have to admit, I had no idea what you were talking about half the time, so I was kind of happy that one student asked so many questions. It made me feel a little less…stupid.” She meant it to be a silly put-down, but the look on Owen’s face told her he didn’t see it quite the same way.

At all.

“Of course you don’t understand what we’re talking about. This is a basic astronomy class. Mr. Kelly may have been the only one to ask the questions, but I can almost guarantee you that everyone in the room benefited from them.” He shook his head and began stuffing his papers into his satchel. He ignored her for a few moments before he stopped and looked at her. “You shouldn’t put yourself down because you don’t understand something like this class. There’s nothing wrong with you, and you most certainly aren’t stupid.” On the last word, he shoved the last of his papers in the bag and then seemed at a loss for something to do with his hands.

And Brooke was at a loss for something to say.

So they stood there in awkward silence for several minutes before Brooke figured she needed to be the one to speak. “I…I appreciate your saying that. I don’t think I’m stupid most of the time. But the level of intelligence in this room was kind of intimidating.”

“If you’re going to work with me, then you’ll need to get used to it,” Owen said and then seemed surprised by the statement, as if he hadn’t even thought it through.

Brooke gasped and had to fight the urge to hug him and thank him. Instead, she went for a very calm approach to be sure she didn’t spook him—her uncle’s words, not hers. She cleared her throat and smiled. “I believe I’ll have no problem adjusting. After all, if I’m going to be surrounded by scientists and students all day for several days, I’ll be sure to do some studying beforehand, so I can better understand them.”

Wow. She even impressed herself with how professional she sounded.

“I…I still haven’t decided—for sure—that this is going to be feasible. For either of us,” he quickly added. “I don’t think you fully understand what you’d be dealing with. They’re all very smart and socially awkward. Like me.”

Her smile was meant to reassure him, but she wasn’t sure he got it. “Dr. Shaughnessy…Owen…do you want my honest opinion?”

Brooke saw him swallow hard before he nodded.

“I don’t think you’re as socially awkward as you think.” When he went to correct her, she held up a hand to stop him. “It’s true. I don’t think you’re comfortable in social settings, but here you are, talking to me, defending me, and you’re doing fine. I’m sorry if I make you nervous. I hope the more time we spend together, the more relaxed you’ll become.”

“Umm…maybe,” he murmured.

Brooke looked over her shoulder at the clock on the wall before turning back toward Owen. “Would you like to grab a cup of coffee with me?” He looked like he was ready to bolt—or at least turn her down—so she quickly added, “We don’t have to talk about the job. I just would like to get to know you.”

He frowned. “Why?”

She laughed. An honest-to-goodness laugh. “Why? Because my uncle does nothing but sing your praises. Because I enjoyed listening to you teach. Because I think what you do is fascinating.” She gave him her most confident look. “Are those good enough reasons?”

And she knew she had him. There was no way he could possibly doubt her reasons for wanting to spend time with him.

Owen looked at the clock and seemed to be weighing his options. “I need to go back to my office and take care of some notes and return a call first. Maybe I can meet you in an hour at the cafeteria?”

It wasn’t hard to see what he was doing—he wanted to stay in a neutral zone and was giving himself a clear out if he needed it. His work. Well, she’d just see about that.

“How about this—you take care of what you need to, and I’ll grab drinks and bring them to your office. That way we can sit someplace a little quieter and less chaotic. What do you say?”

Clearly she’d thrown him for a loop because his mouth seemed to move but no words came out. “Um—”

“I’m not a huge fan of the coffee in any cafeteria,” she said pleasantly. “There’s a Starbucks up the block, so I can go there and grab us a couple of cups of coffee and maybe a slice or two of cake or some cookies. Although they do have fabulous brownies. Do you have a preference? I’m a bit of a chocoholic, but I know it’s not the case for everyone. The marble pound cake is a good choice too—it gives me the chocolate I crave while balancing it out with the yellow cake. Of course, there are scones if that’s more your thing.”

“You talk a lot,” he stated very matter-of-factly.

And that had her laughing again. She liked his bluntness. “I know. Sometimes it works for me, sometimes it doesn’t. I tend to chatter more when I’m nervous. Most of the time I don’t even realize I’m doing it. The words just keep coming, and I’ll end up flowing from one topic to another with no end in sight.”

“You mean like now?”

Brooke immediately stopped talking and considered him. “Oh. I guess I was kind of yammering on there.”

“Why are you nervous?”

Was he kidding? She shrugged and twisted the shoulder strap of her purse. “You make me that way.”

Owen’s eyes went wide. “Me?” he asked incredulously. “I make you nervous?”

She nodded. “You’re a little intimidating.”

“Me?” his voice came out almost as a squeak.

Brooke nodded again. “You are a highly respected man, Owen. I’m sure you’re used to sitting around and talking with people who are more on your level. I’m afraid of saying something ridiculous and putting my foot in my mouth.”

“Brooke, I…I don’t even know how to respond to that. I’m intimidated by you.”

She already knew that by how her uncle had prepared her, but she was curious about how he saw himself. “Why?”

“I may be respected here on campus or in my field of study, but…that’s it. Outside of the lab and away from the telescope, I’m fairly invisible.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

He gave a mirthless laugh. “Trust me. As you learned the other day, my brother is one of the most popular rock stars in the world. Do you think anyone sees me when he’s around?”

In that instant, she wanted to reach out and hug him.

“I have five siblings including Riley—four brothers and one sister,” he said, not meeting her gaze. “They all have impressive jobs and wonderful lives. All of my brothers are married and have kids. Well, Riley and Savannah just found out they’re pregnant, so…” He stopped abruptly, and this time he looked directly at her. “Forget you heard that,” he said quickly. “No one is supposed to know! Dang it.”

And that was totally adorable—he didn’t even curse.

Unable to help herself, Brooke reached out and placed a hand on his arm. They both seemed a little shocked by the contact. He was…muscular. Much more so than she would have imagined. Forcing herself to not focus on that, she gave him a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to worry. Their secret is safe with me.”

Owen nodded and gave her a small smile. “Thank you.”

She felt like they were having a moment.

And she didn’t really want it to end.

Patience…

“Okay,” she finally said, taking a step back. “Tell me what I can get you from Starbucks, and I’ll meet you in your office in an hour.”