Hailey loved the bar instantly. From the frames on the walls to the jukebox belting out Aretha Franklin to the wood that merged everywhere, it felt like a home away from home, just the sort of place to come after work and settle in.

Regardless of the fact that everywhere she looked was a face she’d seen on one of WFY’s commercials. The ones she didn’t know still bore the telltale Genie eyes, and all of them stared as she came in with Ryder.

She ignored that, fidgeting with her purse’s strap. Bigger fish to fry and all.

God, she hoped his dad liked her. She hadn’t wanted the parent thing so soon—slower than a tortoise with asthma, he’d promised her.

This was not slower than a tortoise with asthma. She had voiced her thought that it might possibly probably absolutely be a bit soon for a meet-and-greet with the parents—definitely too soon to introduce Ryder to the weapon-toting navy dad—which Ryder had promptly agreed with.

“But Leo dared me,” he’d said with a shrug, never mind the jiggle of his foot that betrayed his discomfort.

“Oh, well, I’m glad you have a good reason.” She’d rolled her eyes and surrendered.

And now here they were, barely into “going steady” as Ryder called it, and already she had to make a good impression on his dad.

She glared down at the heels she wore. Don’t mess this up for me.

“So it’s a play on words, huh?” she said with enviable casualness as she and Ryder headed for the central bar. The nerves that had tickled the ivories when Ryder had picked her up were now approaching a crashing crescendo as they neared it. “Jeannie’s for Genies?”

Ryder chuckled, though tension lined his eyes. “Actually, it used to be an ordinary bar, named after my mom since my dad said it couldn’t have a better one. It wasn’t until after Leo and I started at WFY that Genies came here.”

“Must be a man thing,” she mused. “My dad, when he bought his first Stingray, named it Sara. My mom’s name.” She paused, eyed Ryder. “What’re you going to name after me?”

“This headache.”

“Aww. You’re sweet.” Hailey swallowed as she caught sight of the man at the bar. Fit for his sixties, he was chatting to a young woman serving another customer. She recognized him from the photo she’d, ahem, caught sight of at Ryder’s.

“That your dad?” she asked, keeping up appearances.

“That’s him.” Ryder hesitated.

Hailey sympathized.

Luckily, she’d come prepared to break any tension.

She dug in her purse and pulled out her secret weapon. “Here.”

Ryder glanced at the brown paper bag and smirked. His shoulders descended from around his ears as he slung an arm around her. “You think you’re real funny, huh?”

“I know I am.”

His dad caught sight of them before Ryder could speak. “If it isn’t my erstwhile son,” he proclaimed to all around the bar, rounding the counter and heading over. He was handsome for an older man, though of course he looked nothing like Ryder or Leo.

He smiled, a roguish crease, and suddenly he almost did look like his sons. “You must be the girl keeping Ryder away from his old dad.”

“I must be.” Hailey cocked her head, pulling on the charm she wooed clients with. “Though I don’t see anyone around here who looks old.”

“I like this one.” He held out his hand as Ryder rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Cameron Wood. Most call me Cam.”

She shook his offered hand. “Hailey. And most call me boring.”

“Now that I don’t believe.” Cam’s blue eyes twinkled. “Nobody who can call my son on his bullshit could be boring.”

“Yeah, I’m standing right here. All visible and everything.”

“What can I say? Your son’s been a bad influence,” Hailey countered, ignoring Ryder.

Cam gestured for her to lean in as if imparting a great secret. “Most Woods are.” As she laughed, he gestured to the bar with a wide sweep of his hand. “Now, let’s get you a drink.”

They stayed for two hours, chatting to Cam between customers until Leo showed up and kidnapped Hailey to play pool with him. That had been thirty minutes ago.

They stood near one of the tables, laughing as Leo told one of his Ryder’s-an-idiot stories. Ryder could tell because of the faces Leo was making.

He didn’t mind. It made him feel good to see Hailey get along with his family.

Cam finished pouring someone a pint and came to lean against the counter Ryder had decided he’d bear the responsibility of holding up.

“I like her,” Cam announced without ceremony.

“She’s okay.” Ryder grinned as Hailey tipped back her head and laughed at Leo’s punch line. “I might keep her around for a while.”

He felt Cam’s eyes probe his profile.

“What?” he asked without turning.

“She’s the one, isn’t she?”

“Whoa.” Ryder held up a hand, guts churning as he turned his head in disbelief. “Hold your horses. We’ve known each other, what, a month and a bit?”

“You’re telling me you don’t have feelings for that girl?”

The conversation was even more uncomfortable than the one Ryder’s mom had had with him when she’d found condoms in his room. There’d been diagrams.

He fidgeted. “Of course I do. We’re dating. Seeing how it goes.”

“Uh-huh. And when’s the last time you did that?”

Ryder glared. “Don’t push it, Cam. We’re taking it slow.”

Cam eyed him, and his shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. “Fair enough.”

Ryder nodded and turned back to watching Hailey and Leo again. He felt his dad’s gaze on his nape like an insect walking across it.

He groaned. “Go on. Say what you’re thinking.”

“Nothing.” His dad’s voice was completely innocent. “Except . . . you sure you’re not already past the taking-it-slow stage?”

“Hey, it’s not only me.” Ryder looked at Cam, eyes narrowed. “Hailey wants to go slow, too. Demanded it, in fact.”

“That may be, but what if you’re already in love?”

Ryder almost choked. “What pills are you on, Dad? People don’t fall in love in six weeks.”

“I did with your mom.”

“We’re different.” Ryder flicked a coaster. He couldn’t even say the word without someone’s fist rudely reaching into his chest and gripping his heart. “I’m not in . . . love.”

“Right.”

“Right. Don’t forget it.” Ryder slid a hand down his hair.

Cam grinned.

“Aw, shut up.”

His dad tilted back his head and laughed, loud and long. When he’d sobered, his eyes still glittered with mirth.

“So glad I amuse you,” Ryder grunted.

“One of the perks of being a father.” Cam studied him, then turned serious. “Just don’t reject it instantly, Ry.”

“Seriously, can we drop this?” He might be getting hives, not to mention he’d need that paper bag Hailey’d brought along in a minute.

“One more thing.” Cam flicked him on the forehead when Ryder grimaced. “Respect your elders.”

Ryder glared.

His dad nodded, a hint of a smile lurking. “Love isn’t always about loss, son. Even though I lost mine, they’d have to pry my memories from my cold, dead hands before I’d ever regret loving your mom.”

“You still lost her,” Ryder pointed out, unable to help it.

“Yeah.” Cam looked down at his counter, the bar he’d named after the woman he’d adopted twins with and loved with every fiber of his soul. When he glanced up, that love was in his eyes. “Yeah, I did. But I’d go through the pain all over again to have one more day. You can’t let the fear win.” He clapped Ryder on the back. “It’s a big bastard, sure, but nothing compares to what your Hailey could bring you. A lifetime of joy.”

Ryder barely dared breathe as his dad stripped Ryder’s fears from his soul with the smallest of words. He felt naked. Exposed.

Hailey’s laugh rose above the crowd’s chatter as his twin said something else.

“Your mom would’ve liked her. Jeannie, I mean.” Cam grinned as they watched Hailey smack Leo on the shoulder while he pretended to defend himself. “She’s got that same spirit.”

Ryder tore his troubled gaze from his dad toward Hailey. He watched as his twin proffered the pool cue in pretend supplication, Hailey laughing so hard she had to brace against the table.

A smile stretched his lips at the memory of Hailey offering him a brown paper bag, beating him in a duel. Yeah.

She did.

* * *

Something was up with Ryder.

Hailey noticed it over the next few days especially, though she was far too busy with Ethan and Serena’s wedding, not to mention Erica breathing down her neck, to give it too much thought.

Honestly, she was just beyond thrilled to have him stay the night with her and sex her into a coma this week. At least she was getting six square hours of sleep-like-the-dead rest afterward.

It was a whirlwind on the Friday night one week before the wedding, coordinating with Serena’s dad’s staff to make sure all the details for the rehearsal dinner went smoothly. At first, Serena had insisted Hailey be there to ensure a seamless evening. And possibly in the hope that Ryder would tag along.

However, Hailey had yanked up her big-girl panties and refused. She already had to suffer through the wedding. She didn’t need to endure the speeches and presentation and the flipping “Girl in the Meadow,” too.

So it was with relief that she flopped onto her couch for a night of channel surfing. Ryder had plans with Leo, Quentin and Max both had dates, which left an empty evening. Strange, considering two months ago, when Genies were as far away as the stars, all her evenings had been empty but for moping about Ethan.

Ah, happy memories.

She curled up on her couch as a chef showed her how to properly sauté an onion—who had the time?—and realized that for once, thinking of Ethan didn’t bring any emotion with it. No pain or sadness. No grief. No anger or bitterness.

It was nice. A little eerie, like a familiar friend vanishing, but nice. She could breathe.

She was halfway through making an apple-and-blackberry tart—cooking-show-wise—when her buzzer made her jump. A smile leapt to her lips. Ryder must have begged off early, though he’d said he’d be out so late he’d sleep at his place.

In her dash to the buzzer, she tripped on the blanket she’d had over her knee and crashed to the floor.

“End scene,” she muttered as she pushed herself up. “You need to invest in some balance classes, Lawson.”

She could already envision Ryder’s smartass remark about the red bump on her forehead when she depressed the button. “Hello?”

There was a pause on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hailey. It’s me.”

“Ethan?” She blinked.

“Yeah.”

Hailey checked her watch. “Shouldn’t you be driving down to the Hamptons?”

“Can I come up? I need to talk to you.”

Her brow furrowed in mystification. “Uh . . . sure.”

She depressed the button and undid the deadbolt on the door. As she waited for him, her emotions ran the range of confused to annoyed that he would show up at her home to mystified again.

When the knock came, it made her stomach knot.

Telling herself to get a grip, Hailey opened the door.

Dressed in a beautiful charcoal suit, his floppy golden hair in disarray with that sad, soft twist to his lips he always wore around her, Ethan lounged in her doorway.

“Hi, Hales,” he said, his gentle poet’s voice resonant. “Can I come in?”

She wordlessly held the door wider and stepped back. It was beyond bizarre to see Ethan in her new place, the past overlapping with the present. Jarring.

“Learning to cook?” he asked with a glance at the droning TV.

That had also been one of his complaints.

“Maybe.” She folded her arms, discarding the idea of inviting him to sit. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I have a glass of water first?” He hooked a finger around his collar and tugged. “My throat’s kind of dry.”

“Sure.” There were bottles in the fridge, but in a petty kind of mood—after all, Ethan was ruining her night—Hailey got a glass from the cupboard and filled it from the tap.

He eyed it with skepticism when she handed it over but sipped. Then he put it down on her coffee table. “I needed to see you.”

“I told you and Serena, I coordinated with her father’s staff about tonight.”

He was shaking his head. “No. I needed to see you.”

Bad feelings, like when she watched horror movies and the music started to pitch, hit. “What’s going on?”

Ethan pushed a hand through his hair, all tormented male. “I don’t know what to do. Hales, I’m so torn.”

So was Natalie Imbruglia, she wanted to retort, but the sooner he got whatever out, the sooner he could leave.

She gazed at him with narrowed eyes.

“I’m getting married next week,” he said.

“I know, Ethan. I planned it.”

“Maybe that’s why I feel this way. Like I’m a bird who got lost in a different air current and ended up north when I should be south.”

Okay, she definitely hadn’t missed the bad poetical speeches.

“I love Serena.”

“I got the memo on that.”

Confusion graced his face. “When did you become so sarcastic?”

“When I was born. I . . . held back. Before.” When she’d tried to be what he wanted her to be. Which bit her pride something fierce.

She sighed, her arms slipping by her sides. “Ethan, if you’ve got something to say, say it.”

He stepped forward, closer. Alarms went on high alert. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

She must have imagined this moment a thousand times—when Ethan realized he’d made a mistake and came back on bended knee. When he’d apologize for how he’d acted and realized she was the best thing he could have ever had. That he’d been wrong about her.

He took her hand before she could react. His touch was achingly familiar. “I know I screwed up. You scared me when you proposed out of the blue.” He squeezed, having no idea how his words pissed her off. “Ever since Serena told me about your Genie friend, I couldn’t get you out of my head. Out of my heart. Hailey, you are the tree that grants this flower shade to thrive.”

Excuse me while I’m sick in my mouth.

She slid her hand free. “I’m sure Serena does just as good a job.”

“I do love her. She’s beautiful, smart, sexy—”

“I could do without the laundry list.”

“But I’ve come to realize you’re rooted in me. That love that bloomed between us for three years hasn’t gone. And I know it hasn’t gone for you either.”

“Actually—”

“Why else would you agree to plan my wedding?” he continued with a faint smile.

Her mouth fell open. Then closed. “Erica assigned it to me,” she hissed, jabbing a finger at his chest. “You think I wanted to watch you and Serena cuddle?”

“You see? You do still care.” Triumphant, he captured her hand and raised it to his lips.

She tugged it away before it could make contact. “Cared. Past tense, Ethan.” And thank God for it. Though she couldn’t say this moment entirely sucked—the moment she could finally say she was over him to his face.

Yep, that one’s going in the scrapbook.

“No.” He shook his head in refusal. “A love like ours is epic. As wide and deep as the ocean.”

“Didn’t seem that way two months ago.”

“I told you.” He shifted in front of her, uncomfortable. “It’s only been since I’ve seen you on a regular basis. It reminded me how special you are. How you always were there for me.”

This made her eyebrows shoot up. “According to the many and varied reasons you threw at me, that was part of why you dumped me. Because I wasn’t there for you.”

“You know what I mean.” He ruffled his hair and gave her what he probably thought was an endearing smile. “You came with me to my poetry readings and paid the bills as I worked on my craft.”

“Now you’ve got Serena to play that role. And you should go. Now. Or you’ll be late.”

“Hailey, I know you still feel it. The spark between us is on fire.”

“It’s really not.”

“Don’t say it’s too late. That Genie—he’ll never commit to you like I will. He’ll never love you like I will. He’ll never treat you as delicately as I will, like precious pottery in my sculptor’s hands.”

His blue eyes regarded her soulfully.

I’m sorry but . . .

She laughed, layers of giggles from the gut.

The lamp she’d switched on earlier cast a shadow across half of his confused expression. It quickly shifted into miffed. “What’s the joke?”

“Jesus, Ethan.” She shook her head in disbelief. “You think you loved me well? Treated me well? You made me feel like I disappointed you all the time.”

“Well, if you’d tried harder—”

All right. Inner Hailey threw off the gloves and bounced on the soles of her feet. Let me take the sucker down.

Hailey pointed at the door. “Just go, Ethan. Go to your fiancée before you lose her.”

“But that’s it. I don’t know if I want her to be mine. You’re my special rose.” He tried again to touch her, but she backed up. His hand fell uselessly to his side. “You never tried to make me get a job or corrected my poems. You never organized my life like I was a child.”

And Serena did.

Everything clicked into place.

“Oh, my God.” Hailey covered her grin and groaned. “Ryder’s never gonna let me hear the end of this.”

“What?”

“You’re tofu, Ethan.”

“Huh?”

She laughed, delighted with how steady her nerves were. She didn’t hate him, didn’t love him. She felt nothing. “You’re tofu. You get your strength from strong women, making them do everything for you. But Serena won’t, huh? Must be that Upper East Side bitch training they go through.”

“Hailey—”

“She won’t let you lie around all day, scribbling on napkins, like I did. She—or her father, or both—want you to grow up, right? Get a real job. Switch the poetry from career to hobby?”

“It would stifle my creativity working in her father’s office,” he burst out. His eyes pleaded with her. “You understood.”

“No, I was a patsy. I wanted so badly to be what you wanted me to be that I didn’t call you on your crap. But I’m happy to say, the stars officially vanished from my eyes the day you dumped me—and thank the sweet lord you did.”

“This isn’t you. This is coming from him, isn’t it? The scruffy Genie.”

“No, it’s coming from me. Finally.”

“He’ll never love you.” Ethan switched to a sneer as he realized he couldn’t bend her emotions like he used to. “Genies never fall for ordinary people.”

“And that’s the main reason I’m done with you, Ethan. You just don’t get it.” Hailey lifted her chin, stared him down. “I’m not ordinary.”

Ethan said nothing.

Wow. What next? Pigs flying? Ice-skating in hell?

Taking advantage of his rare speechless moment, Hailey walked to the door and opened it. “Go to Serena, Ethan. She might actually make a man out of you if you stick with her.”

Dazed, Ethan dragged his feet toward the door.

He paused outside, his hand on the jamb. “I did love you, you know.”

She studied the face that had once held such power over her. “Good-bye, Ethan.”

She closed the door behind him.