When I head into the kitchen the next morning, I find Cooper at the stove making breakfast. It’s good to have him home again. This place just isn’t the same without him.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says, giving me a relaxed smile. “Good morning. What’ll you have? And don’t tell me you’re not hungry, because that won’t fly anymore. You’re pregnant – you need to eat.”

Gee, bossy much? I smile, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. “I’ll have whatever you’re making.”

“I’m making pancakes and bacon for Sam. That sound good?”

“Yes, thank you.”

I think back to what I saw last night – Cooper asleep in Sam’s bed, the two of them as closely entwined as Sam’s leg cast would allow. I can’t help wondering if Cooper spent all night with Sam, or if he eventually left him to go to his own bed. “I’m really happy about you and Sam,” I say, hesitant to say anything.

His shoulders stiffen, but he gives no other indication that he heard me. “You want coffee too?”

“Decaf. I’ll get it.” I hop down from my seat and head for the coffee maker.

Cooper reaches into the cupboard for a coffee mug and hands it to me. I switch on the Keurig and select a K-cup of my favorite French vanilla decaf from the carousel.

“Is Sam still sleeping?” I ask.

“He’s awake, but I told him to stay in bed. I’ll bring him breakfast in bed. Being out of bed last night during dinner really wore him out. His leg’s aching pretty badly this morning, and he refuses to take any pain medication. The obstinate knucklehead.”

I laugh. “It’s nice having him here, isn’t it?”

“Sure.”

My coffee’s ready, and I carry my mug back to my seat at the counter. I just don’t understand Cooper. We’re practically family. He knows how much I care about him, and that I just want him to be happy. So why is he so tight-lipped when it comes to Sam? I saw the two of them together, twice now – once making out like teenagers in Jamie’s kitchen, and then last night wrapped up in each other’s arms in Sam’s bed. They’re obviously together. So, why is he so unwilling to even talk about it?

“You know I love you, right?” I say.

He glances back at me, his expression guarded. “Beth, please don’t. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But why? I care about both of you, and I’m happy for you – ”

He shakes his head. “Please. I’m asking you nicely.” Then he sets a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of me, along with a butter dish and a pitcher of warm maple syrup. “Eat up.”

He picks up a breakfast tray and walks out of the kitchen, heading down the hallway to Sam’s suite.

I pick up my phone and send Shane a text message:

He still won’t talk about Sam.

Shane texts me back a moment later:

Give him time, sweetheart. I’m sure he has his reasons.

I finish my breakfast in silence, as Cooper doesn’t reappear. Miguel arrives to pick me up for work, and after brushing my teeth and grabbing my stuff, I’m ready to go.

I pause on the way to the elevator. “Just a minute,” I tell Miguel. “I want to say goodbye to Sam.”

Sam’s door is open. Cooper’s sitting in a chair beside the bed, talking to Sam, who’s eating. Neither of them looks happy.

Just as I’m about to say something, Cooper reaches over and strokes Sam’s cheek. Sam pulls his face away from Cooper, obviously angry about something.

Cooper stands up and leans into Sam, grasping his chin firmly and making Sam look him in the eye. “You’d better cool your jets, buddy,” he says in a gruff voice. “Forget the damn crutches for now. You have nothing to prove. Just rest and let your leg heal.”

Cooper presses his lips to Sam’s, coaxing the younger man to open his mouth. With a low, ragged groan, Sam clutches Cooper’s wrist and hungrily returns the kiss.  Cooper leans into Sam, pressing him back into a stack of pillows.

Soundlessly, I back away from the door and head to the foyer to join Miguel. My pulse is racing. I never realized watching two guys kiss would be so hot.

* * *

Friday is a quiet day at work for me. I stay holed up in my office all morning going over paperwork and approving requisition orders and planning upcoming store events. Erin lures me out of my office at lunchtime, and we eat in the store café. I make a few rounds through the store, straightening displays and chatting with customers. In the afternoon, I catch up on schoolwork that’s due Sunday evening. I can’t believe there are only two weeks left in my first semester of graduate school. It’s gone by so fast.

Erin walks into my office. “Are you all right?”

I glance up from my computer screen. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

“I’m just worried about Sam, I guess. His leg’s hurting him, and Cooper said he’s refusing to take his pain medication.”

Erin frowns. “I hope he mends all right. What if he doesn’t? What if he can’t return to work?”

“Of course he will,” I say. God, I can’t even contemplate any other option. “It’s just a broken leg. As awful as that is, it’ll heal. He’ll be back in a couple of months, good as new.”

“The new guy seems nice. Miguel. He’s out in the other room talking with Mack.”

“Yes, he is.” That gives me an idea. “He’s cute, isn’t he? That gorgeous dark hair and those dark eyes. Pretty dreamy, wouldn’t you say?”

“Forget it,” she says, grinning. “Yes, he’s delish, but I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no.”

“But he’s really nice. And, he’s not much older than you are.” Unlike Mack.

She shakes her head, sighing. “The heart wants what it wants.”

“True. And that reminds me of something. The wedding. Are you free next Saturday?”

Erin brightens. “You finally settled on a day?”

I nod. “Next weekend, at the Kenilworth estate. We’re thinking a Saturday afternoon wedding, dinner reception, and then everyone stays overnight.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she says. “Maybe I’ll be able to sweet talk Mack into dancing with me at the reception.”

* * *

Later that afternoon, Shane calls me.

“Hi, honey, what’s up?” I say, wondering if I should confess to him that I inadvertently spied on Sam and Cooper this morning and got an eyeful.

“I need you to come to my office right now,” he says brusquely. “Miguel will bring you.” He’s clearly in CEO mode.

A moment later, Miguel walks into my office, looking at me expectantly.

“Sure,” I say. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes. There’s nothing to worry about. I just need you here.”

“Okay. We’ll leave now.”

My mind races on the brief ride to Shane’s office. When our driver drops us off at the front lobby doors, Miguel walks me inside the building. Shane, Jake, and two uniformed police offers are conferring in the lobby.

When Shane sees me, he breaks away from the group and meets me halfway. “Come with me,” he says, taking me by the elbow and leading me to one of the elevators.

Jake rides with us up to the executive offices on the twentieth floor. Shane leads me into his office, then sits me down in his desk chair. Jake sits on the corner of the desk watching as Shane reaches over my shoulders to type a couple commands on the keyboard. A video appears on the monitor.

Shane squeezes my shoulders. “Watch.”

The video starts playing. The screen is split in half, showing two different vantage points. I recognize this as surveillance video footage. One of the cameras is focused on Shane, who’s seated at this very desk. The other frame is focused on the two guest chairs in front of Shane’s desk. There’s a knock at the door, and when Shane says “come in,” the door opens and Diane pops her head through the opening.

“Ms. Morelli is here to see you, Shane,” Diane says, just before she ushers Luciana into Shane’s office. Luciana is dressed in a red sheath dress with black spikey heels and a gold handbag slung over her shoulder.

Shane glances up from his computer, apparently not surprised to see her. “Thanks, Diane,” he says, and Diane shuts the office door, closing Luciana and Shane alone in the office.

“Have a seat, Luciana,” Shane says, all business as he points at a chair in front of his desk. “Thanks for coming.”

I glance up at Shane, baffled. Why would he meet with Luciana in his office?

“Just watch,” he says, pointing at the monitor.

Luciana sits, a confident smile on her perfect face, and lays her handbag on his desk. “I was expecting you to reach out,” she says. “I knew it was just a matter of time.”

He eyes her, his expression neutral. Then he leans back in his leather chair and sighs. “What are you up to, Luciana?”

Her brow wrinkles. “I beg your pardon?”

“Why are you harassing Beth?”

She smirks. “I’m not harassing her, Shane. I’ve barely spoken to the girl.”

“Bullshit. First you harassed her at the nightclub, then later at Clancy’s. I told you to stay the hell away from her. If I have to get a restraining order, I will.”

Luciana crosses her slender arms over her chest and her expression tightens. “It’s a free country, Shane. I can talk to her if I want to.”

“No, you can’t.”

Luciana’s lips tighten. “And why is that?”

“Because I said so. I won’t let anyone attempt to intimidate or harass her.”

Luciana laughs. “Well, it’s not that hard to do. The girl wears her heart on her sleeve, and she’s very gullible. She’ll believe anything.”

His gaze hardens. “Leave Beth alone. I won’t ask nicely again.”

“You don’t intimidate me for a second, Shane, so quit wasting your time.”

Shane gets up from his chair and walks around to the front of his desk. He sits on the corner of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “The photos were pretty ingenious, I have to admit. It took me nearly twenty-four hours to prove they were fake.”

Luciana chuckles. “I thought it was pretty ingenious too. It took me weeks to pull that off, and you walked right into my trap – literally.” She laughs. “When I met you on the sidewalk that day, it was too easy. I already had the body double lined up – he was just waiting for my call.”

“Faked photos is one thing, Luciana. But you went too far Monday.”

Her eyes widen, just barely perceptibly. She shakes her head. “Monday? I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.”

She shakes her head. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

He gives her a confident smile. “Paul Conroy gave you up in exchange for a plea deal.”

Luciana’s expression remains cool. “I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

At this point, I blindly reach for Shane’s hand, and he grabs mine, squeezing it. I don’t know if I’m ready to hear this.

“Yes, you do,” Shane says, leaning close to Luciana. He’s just inches from her. “You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. You hired Paul Conroy to run Beth over. He’s confessed everything.”

“I’m sorry, who? I don’t know anyone by that name.”

Shane gives a humorless laugh. “Don’t play stupid with me. I told you, he confessed. Conroy’s not going to take the rap for you.”

“That’s a lie,” she bites out. “If he had, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now talking to you.”

“Trust me, it’s no lie. He failed in his objective, thank God. Otherwise you’d have a hell of a lot more to worry about than a simple attempted murder charge.”

“What do you mean?”

“If Conroy had succeeded in running her over, he might have killed both Beth and our unborn child.”

Luciana looks dumbstruck. “She’s pregnant?”

“Yes. And if he’d succeeded, the law would be the least of your concerns, because I’d be coming after you myself.”

Luciana looks indignant. “She’s pregnant?”

“Yes.”

Luciana shoots to her feet and gets in his face. In those ridiculous heels, she’s nearly as tall as Shane. “Why are you wasting your life on that little gold digger? She’s a nobody! We were amazing together! We still can be! How could you pick someone like her over me?”

“I ended our relationship because you’re a heartless, vindictive bitch, Lucy. Obviously, that hasn’t changed.”

Luciana’s eyes narrow. “And you’re an idealistic fool! She’s got you by the balls, and you can’t even think straight. I should have run her down myself. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

Shane smiles, his entire demeanor relaxing.

Luciana looks perplexed.

At that moment, the door to Shane’s private office apartment opens and out walks my brother. He looks very men-in-black with his dark suit and tie.

Luciana takes a step back, staring at Tyler. “What is this?” she says, her gaze bouncing back and forth between Tyler and Shane.

“Meet my future brother-in-law, Tyler Jamison,” Shane says, as Tyler approaches. “Or, should I say Chicago Homicide Detective Tyler Jamison?”

The door to Shane’s office opens, and two uniformed police officers enter, both of them with their hands resting on the handles of their sidearms. Jake comes in behind them.

“Did you get what you need, Detective?” Shane says.

Tyler nods. “Yes,” he says. Then Tyler looks directly as Luciana as he shows her his badge. “Luciana Morelli, you’re under arrest for attempted murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

Luciana glares at Shane. “You son-of-a-bitch!” She hauls her hand back to slap Shane, but Tyler blocks her. “Cuff her,” he says to the patrol officers.

As the officers in the video are frisking Luciana, Shane stops the video and moves into my line of sight. I’m sitting here, in shock I think. My hand goes automatically to my belly, as it sinks in. That woman almost killed me. She almost killed my baby.

“It’s over?” I ask him.

Shane nods. “We have her confession on tape. She’s been detained at the Cook County jail, and we’re just waiting for her arraignment to be scheduled.”