Once and Again

“Your being here is slowly driving me insane.”

She swallowed. “That certainly isn’t my intention.”

“Of course not.” He set his now half-empty bottle beside hers on the counter and took a step closer…gently cupped her face in his hands, started to lower his head.

Her breath caught in her throat. His intent was obvious, and although a part of her desperately yearned to feel his mouth on hers, another part screamed at her to step away, out of temptation’s reach. She fisted her hands, her nails biting into her palms. “Don’t kiss me, Nick.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” She swallowed. “Because it would be a mistake.”

“Probably,” he agreed, his lips whispering against her cheek. “And it’s a mistake I can’t stop myself from making.”

Dear Reader,

Most of us look forward to October for the end-of-the-month treats, but we here at Silhouette Special Edition want you to experience those treats all month long—beginning, this time around, with the next book in our MOST LIKELY TO…series. In The Pregnancy Project by Victoria Pade, a woman who’s used to getting what she wants, wants a baby. And the man she’s earmarked to help her is her arrogant ex-classmate, now a brilliant, if brash, fertility expert.

Popular author Gina Wilkins brings back her acclaimed FAMILY FOUND series with Adding to the Family, in which a party girl turned single mother of twins needs help—and her handsome accountant (accountant?), a single father himself, is just the one to give it. In She’s Having a Baby, bestselling author Marie Ferrarella continues her miniseries, THE CAMEO, with this story of a vivacious, single, pregnant woman and her devastatingly handsome—if reserved—next-door neighbor. Special Edition welcomes author Brenda Harlen and her poignant novel Once and Again, a heartwarming story of homecoming and second chances. About the Boy by Sharon DeVita is the story of a beautiful single mother, a widowed chief of police…and a matchmaking little boy. And Silhouette is thrilled to have Blindsided by talented author Leslie LaFoy in our lineup. When a woman who’s inherited a hockey team decides that they need the best coach in the business, she applies to a man who thought he’d put his hockey days behind him. But he’s been…blindsided!

So enjoy, be safe and come back in November for more. This is my favorite time of year (well, the beginning of it, anyway).

Regards,

Gail Chasan

Senior Editor

Once and Again

Brenda Harlen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BRENDA HARLEN

grew up in a small town surrounded by books and imaginary friends. Although she always dreamed of being a writer, she chose to follow a more traditional career path first. After two years of practicing as an attorney (including an appearance in front of the Supreme Court of Canada), she gave up her “real” job to be a mom and to try her hand at writing books. Three years, five manuscripts and another baby later, she sold her first book—an RWA Golden Heart winner—to Silhouette.

Brenda lives in southern Ontario with her real-life husband/hero, two heroes-in-training and two neurotic dogs. She is still surrounded by books (“too many books,” according to her children) and imaginary friends, but she also enjoys communicating with “real” people. Readers can contact Brenda by e-mail at brendaharlen@yahoo.com or by snail mail c/o Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

September 22

Dear Nick,

It’s been a year since you walked out of my life without so much as a backward glance. I still don’t know why things ended the way they did, what happened to sever the ties between us so completely. And I’m not sure why I’m writing this letter now, when I probably won’t ever find the courage to send it. But I need you to know that I’m sorry for everything, and I wish we could somehow find a way to bridge the distance that has grown between us, to forgive the pain we’ve caused one another. Maybe that’s too much to ask after everything that’s happened, but I can’t give up hope that someday we might make it happen. That maybe we could even be friends again….

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Prologue

It was a dream come true for any seven-year-old boy.

In fact, the gleaming red-and-silver bicycle was exactly what Caleb had been dreaming about for weeks. Every time his mom took him downtown, he’d tug on her hand and drag her over to the window of Beckett’s Sporting Goods store to look at it—just one more time.

Now, thanks to Aunt Jessica, it was his.

He wrapped his fingers around the black rubber grips, threw one leg over the crossbar, settled his foot on the pedal, pushed off with the other. His friends hovered on the edge of the driveway, watching with a combination of envious excitement and eager anticipation that he might give them each a turn.

He sailed down the driveway, grinning at the wind in his face, then turned sharply at the bottom and pumped his legs to climb up again. This was so much better than the scratched and dented hand-me-down of Jake’s he used to ride.

“Are we gonna have cake now, Mom?”

He threw the question over his shoulder as he zipped past her again.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said.

“Cake,” his friends chanted in unison.

She smiled and turned toward the house.

She didn’t actually see what happened next, but she heard it. She would never forget the sounds.

The squeal of tires.

The crunch of metal.

The sickening thud.

And sudden, deafening silence.

Then came the screams.

And finally, the piercing wail of sirens.

Chapter One

Eighteen years ago, Jessica Harding couldn’t wait to leave Pinehurst, New York. She’d had plans for her life—plans that were bigger than this small town. Shortly after high school graduation, immediately after Kristin and Brian’s wedding, she’d packed her meager belongings into her rusty secondhand car and headed for New York City.

Now she was back.

She paid little attention to the familiar landmarks as she ignored the speed limit on her way toward the hospital. She could think only of her best friend’s youngest child and the birthday celebration that had ended in tragedy.

Jess had declined the invitation to Caleb’s party, sending her gift along with her regrets that she wouldn’t be able to attend.

But she’d had no regrets.

Until now.

Now, as she turned into the visitor parking lot, she was filled with them.

Mostly she regretted that she hadn’t chosen another gift.

But she knew less than nothing about the interests of a seven-year-old boy, and when she’d heard Caleb had been admiring a certain bicycle in the front window of Beckett’s Sporting Goods store, it had seemed the easy answer.

She’d never anticipated that her gift might bring tragedy to her best friend’s family.

Stepping out of her BMW, she heard the chime of bells in the distance, summoning parishioners to worship. Holy Trinity, she guessed, on the corner of the next block. Which meant it was almost eleven-thirty.

She glanced at her watch.

Some things never changed.

And some, of course, did.

She hurried up the concrete sidewalk toward the sliding glass doors at the main entrance and wondered if she’d recognize Caleb when she saw him. She tried to recall the details of the most recent photos Kristin had sent, but in her mind, he was still the chubby-cheeked toddler on unsteady legs she’d met on her last visit home. That was the picture that came to mind, the mental image that refused to fade.

He’d been such a beautiful child, with Kristin’s soft blond curls and sparkling blue eyes, and—even at ten months—a devilish grin. And when he’d crawled into her lap to lay his head on her shoulder, rubbing his weary eyes with his dimpled little fists, Jessica’s heart had simply melted.

Until that moment, she hadn’t let herself think too much about all that she’d lost or the opportunities she would never have. Instead, she’d focused almost exclusively on her career, working upwards of eighty hours a week as a corporate attorney at Dawson, Murray & Neale. She’d earned the designer wardrobe, the expensive sports car and the executive condo overlooking Central Park. And yet, the moment she’d wrapped her arms around her best friend’s youngest child, she’d realized how empty her life was.

Six months later, determined to fill the void, she’d married Steve Garrison, another lawyer at the firm. Although they both had ambitions of making partner, she’d been happy to focus her immediate attention on the family they both wanted. But despite their best efforts, Jess had been unable to conceive. Three childless years later, Steve—now a partner—had walked out, leaving her with only client files and time sheets to keep her company during the long nights made lonelier by the acceptance that she would never hold a child of her own in her arms.

But Jess didn’t let herself dwell on that now. She was here to support Kristin and Brian, to help ease their grief—and her own guilt.

She’d always envied Kristin and Brian—the forever kind of love they shared, the family they’d made. Even back in high school, everyone had known they would end up together. The football star and the head cheerleader, they’d been perfect for one another, perfect together.

Yes, Jess had envied them.

But not now.

After a quick stop at the information desk to inquire about Caleb’s room number, she made her way down the main corridor, the heels of her shoes clicking a staccato rhythm on the granite tile. She passed a couple of nurses hurrying in the opposite direction and noted that instead of the usual mint green hospital scrubs, they both wore blue pants and tunics covered with teddy bears. Obviously the attire was intended to appeal to the children who were patients here, but it seemed to Jess patently unfair that there needed to be an entire wing of the hospital devoted to children’s illnesses and injuries.

She felt the sting of tears as she thought of Caleb, and the sharper pang of regret that hadn’t subsided since she’d learned of his accident.

Guilt and grief weren’t new emotions to Jess. They were the reason—or at least one of the reasons—she’d been absent from this town for so long.

She turned the corner toward the bank of elevators and came face-to-face with another of the reasons she’d stayed away: Nick.

Throughout most of the three-hour drive, Jess had been preoccupied with thoughts of Caleb and Kristin and Brian. Even so, in the back of her mind, she’d known it was inevitable that she’d run into Nick. But she’d thought she’d have time to prepare for their eventual meeting, time to plan how she’d handle the situation, time to prepare herself for the inevitable battering of her heart.

But there had been no time, no planning, no preparation. He was suddenly just there. Standing in front of the elevator, as devastatingly handsome as she remembered.

Oh, there were subtle signs of the passing of time: a few strands of silver mixed in with the blond hair at his temples, the fanning of lines from the corner of his eyes. But his eyes were the same dreamy shade of blue, the line of his jaw still square and strong, the curve of his lips still boyishly charming.

Except that when he glanced up at her, those dreamy eyes were as cold as shards of ice and the curve of his lips thinned into a disapproving line.

Jessica straightened her spine, held her head up. She didn’t need or want anyone’s approval—least of all Nick Armstrong’s.

After years of being friends and a brief interlude as lovers, their lives had taken them in decidedly different directions. Or maybe they’d deliberately set off in those directions, putting as much time and distance as possible between them, as if doing so could leave the heartbreak behind.

It hadn’t worked.

At least not for Jessica.

But she’d gone on, she’d endured. She’d built a life for herself, a career she was proud of. And yet, with one scathing look, he’d managed to strip away all sense of accomplishment, leaving her empty and aching, yearning for something that had never really been, could never be again.

But she’d be damned before she’d let him know it.

“Hello, Nick.” She was pleased that when she spoke, her voice was coolly neutral.

He punched the already illuminated elevator call button. “What are you doing here, Jessica?”

She twisted the strap of her purse around her hand. “I came to see Caleb. And Kristin.”

“Well, you should have saved yourself the trip,” Nick said coldly. “Kristin doesn’t need you here.”

“I want to help.”

“She has her family if she needs anything. Me, Brian, and Jake and Katie.”

“I can help with Jake and Katie. I can get them ready for school and—”

He laughed, shortly, derisively. “They’re teenagers,” he told her. “They don’t need any help getting dressed in the morning. They can make their own breakfast if they want it. And they know how to tell time to be outside waiting when the bus comes.”

His scornful dismissal was another well-aimed blow, but Jessica wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. She tilted her chin. “I’m not going to leave.”

The elevator signaled its arrival.

Nick stepped through the open doors. “Yes, you will.”

It wasn’t just the words, but the smug arrogance of his tone. She resented the accusation. More, she resented the truth in it. Her fingers gripped her purse strap tighter as she followed him into the car, moving to the opposite side.

“I have a life in New York,” she reminded him coolly. “Am I supposed to apologize for that?”

“No.” He punched the button for the fourth floor. “So long as you go back to it.”

Jessica swallowed around the uncomfortable tightness in her throat. Dammit, she hadn’t come here for this. She didn’t need his antagonism, but maybe she deserved it. Maybe it was finally time to clear the air between them.

“Why does it matter to you, Nick? Why do you care whether I’m here or there or on the other side of the world?”

It was a challenge—an opportunity for them to finally talk about what had happened the night Kristin and Brian got married, and what had happened after.

But he didn’t respond to her challenge. He didn’t say anything about their tumultuous history or what—if anything—that night had meant to him. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all for a long moment.

“Why do I care?” He repeated her question, considered.

She held her breath, waiting for his response.

The elevator doors slid open.

He shrugged. “I guess I don’t.”

Nick saw the flicker of hurt in her eyes, the hint of sadness in the whiskey-colored depths, before she turned away and stepped out of the elevator.

He bit back a sigh of regret, knowing his response had been unnecessarily harsh, needlessly cruel. It had also been untrue.

The truth was, he cared a whole hell of a lot.

Maybe too much.

And seeing Jessica again, after so many years, with so many things still unsettled between them, made him a little irrational. There was something about Jessica that had always made him crazy.

He sighed inwardly. The fact that she still did was his own problem, and one he would need to deal with so long as she was in Pinehurst. Which, he reassured himself, wouldn’t be very long.

Seeing Jessica had distracted him from his original purpose—to check on Caleb. Then again, Jessica had always been something of a distraction.

As a kid, he’d thought of her as Kristin’s pesky friend, a solemn child who’d followed him around asking questions about anything and everything. By the time she was fourteen, she’d become a distraction of an entirely different kind, with curves that other girls envied and teenage boys lusted for. He’d been a perfectly normal teenage boy, which created something of a moral dilemma for Nick and made him all the more anxious to go off to architectural college and escape his prurient desires.

And it had worked—at least for a while.

But he was an adult now, not a hormonal teenager, and while there was still something about Jessica that got to him on a basic level, he wasn’t about to let it distract him.

Jess stopped in the middle of the hallway, so abruptly he nearly ran into her. He wasn’t sure if her hesitation was because she didn’t know where she was going or because she was unsure what she would find when she walked into Caleb’s hospital room.

Or maybe she was just having second thoughts about being anywhere in his company.

It had been that way for the past eighteen years—as soon as one of them entered a room, the other would leave. He didn’t think it was obvious to anyone else, especially since their paths had crossed only a half dozen times during that period. But it was obvious to him, and he knew it was his fault.

Maybe if he’d been able to get past his own hurt and anger to let her explain why she’d made the choices she had, there wouldn’t be this painful awkwardness between them now. Or maybe he was deluding himself. Maybe there was simply no way to get back to that place where they could be friends, not after they’d been lovers.

“Room 426,” he said gruffly.

“I know.” She turned to him with obvious reluctance, her even white teeth sinking into the soft fullness of her bottom lip. His gaze dipped automatically, lingered.

So much for not letting her distract him.

“I just wanted to know…” She hesitated. “Jake wasn’t able to tell me much about…Caleb’s condition. He only said that he’d been hit…by a car.”

Her golden eyes pleaded softly.

He felt his resolve weaken.

“He was knocked out initially but regained consciousness by the time the paramedics arrived. At first he was lucid, but they admitted him as a precaution, to continue to observe his condition.

“Late last night he had a seizure, and then another one this morning. Now he’s lapsed into a coma.”

She flinched.

He’d had the same reaction when he’d first heard the news. One little word—four seemingly innocuous letters—that had the power to destroy his sister’s family.

“He rode off the end of the driveway, into the street, right in front of Harold Lansky’s car. Mr. Lansky wasn’t driving very fast, and the doctors say that, along with the fact that Caleb was wearing a helmet, probably saved his life.”

She drew in a deep breath and nodded for him to continue.

“Still, they suspect that the force of the impact when he hit the windshield bruised his brain.”

“Have they considered sending him to Midtown Children’s Hospital?”

He bristled at the question. “This is one of the best hospitals in the country—even if it isn’t in New York City.”

“But Dr. Reid—one of the best neurosurgeons in the world—is at MCH. I had a client whose ten-year-old daughter had a brain aneurysm,” she explained. “He did the surgery.”

“Do me a favor,” he said. “Don’t mention that to Kristin.”

“Why not?” She sounded genuinely baffled.

“Because I don’t think she’d be thrilled about the idea of any doctor, regardless of his reputation, poking around in her son’s brain.”

She blinked, obviously startled by his vehement response. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“Yeah, well being sorry doesn’t always cut it.” He heard the bitterness and resentment he’d tried so hard to control, knew she couldn’t have missed it.

“Are we still talking about Caleb?”

“Right now, he’s the only thing that matters.”

She nodded. “Then maybe we could shelve the hostility for a while?”

Nick shrugged again, as if her sudden and unexpected appearance here didn’t bother him. As if her proximity didn’t stir within him the familiar battling forces of hatred and longing.

He hated that she’d walked away from him without a backward glance when he would have gone anywhere with her. He hated that she’d chosen her career over their relationship when he would have done anything for her. And he hated that, after eighteen years, he still wanted her.

Even when he looked at her now—the long dark hair he remembered cut stylishly short, the soft, luscious curves that still haunted his dreams elegantly covered by a silky top and slightly rumpled linen trousers—all he could think about was peeling away those layers of polish and pretense to reveal the uninhibited passion of the woman inside.

Except there was no hint of that passion in the gaze that met his own, only a silent plea he cursed himself for being unable to ignore.

“Consider it shelved,” he said.

Her smile was brief, tentative. Still it stirred something inside him. Something he didn’t want stirred.

He followed her reluctantly into Caleb’s room, wishing that she’d go back to New York.

If it hadn’t been for the fact that Nick was right on her heels, Jess might very well have hesitated again. She was nervous, uncertain of the reception she would receive after being away for so long. Uncertain of so many things when it came to the woman who had always been her best friend. But she walked briskly into the room, refusing to give Nick even a glimpse of the doubts that plagued her.

Kristin was perched on the edge of a narrow mattress, one leg tucked beneath her, both hands cradling one of her child’s much smaller ones.

Jess battled against the feeling of helplessness that threatened to overwhelm her as she searched for something to say.

It was Kristin who spoke first, her eyes widening when she saw her old friend standing there.

“Jessica?” It was a question more than a greeting.

Still, it propelled her forward, and she moved to embrace her friend. “I came as soon as I could.”

Kristin, still apparently baffled by her presence, sent a quick glance at her brother, as if Nick might have the answers she sought. “But why—how did you know?”

“I called this morning…” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I caught Jake at home…he said he was on his way to the hospital…he told me about the accident.”

“He never mentioned that he spoke to you,” she said. Then she turned to Nick again, her voice carrying an edge of panic as she asked, “Where is Jake? And Katie?”

Nick rubbed a hand over Kristin’s back. “Jake had to work,” he reminded her. “I dropped him off at the grocery store and convinced Katie to take in a movie with Allison.”

“Oh, right.” She nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

While Kristin and Nick were talking, Jessica turned her attention to Caleb. She was shocked at how pale and still and silent he was. Pale, except for the raw scrapes across his cheek and on his chin. Still, except for the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest controlled by the tube down his throat. Silent, except for the rhythmic hisses and beeps of the machines attached to his tiny body.

She reached over to brush her fingers gently over the curve of his paper-white cheek. His skin was soft, cool to the touch. “You sure have grown since the last time I saw you,” she murmured.

“It’s been six years,” Kristin said tonelessly.

It wasn’t a reprimand or recrimination, just a statement of fact. Jess only nodded. “I’m so sorry, Kristin.”