And Maeve’s memory problems disturbed him too. Keara had already seen signs of it and she’d only been there a few days. It made him nervous. Just last month, an elderly lady living alone on the south side of town had set her house on fire with a candle she’d forgotten she’d lit. He did not want something like that to happen to Maeve.
As he walked up to the door of the store, something rose up inside him like…excitement. He stopped with a hand on the door handle. What was he excited about? And then he realized what he felt was an eager anticipation at seeing Keara again. What the hell was that about? Was he having some kind of regression to that summer they’d spent together? Because that had been a helluva long time ago. They were two different people now.
He yanked open the door with a scowl and stepped inside.
Maeve was nowhere to be seen, but Keara stood behind the counter reading what appeared to be a catalogue. A few other customers browsed—a couple looking at lingerie, two young men studying movies.
“Hi.” He approached the counter. Sparkly emerald green eyes shot up to his and the glossy catalogue in her hands jerked so hard it almost ripped. Christ, she was a jumpy female.
“Oh! Shane.”
“Yup. How’s it going?”
“Fine. Good. Great.”
He studied her still pale face. As a teenager she’d had cute sun-dusted freckles across her little nose, but now she didn’t seem to have seen the sun on her skin for quite some time. Dark circles still gave her a haunted look and if possible, she seemed even thinner. But damn, she was still gorgeous, that bright red-gold hair falling on her shoulders, her mouth soft and pretty until she’d straightened her shoulders and tightened her lips.
“Sure,” he said, not believing her. He lowered his voice. “How’s Maeve?”
One slender shoulder rose and fell. “She seems okay. I haven’t noticed any memory episodes at all for the last few days.”
“Did you talk to her about it?”
“No, I—”
“Shane! What brings you here again so soon?” Maeve swished toward him and enveloped him in a Shalimar-scented hug.
“Uh…” Shit. He glanced wildly around and his eyes fell on the display beside the till. “Just needed more…of these.” He grabbed another box of condoms.
Maeve arched a brow, one corner of her scarlet mouth kicking up. “Well. You’ve been a busy boy lately, haven’t you? Are you sure you aren’t getting serious about that girl?”
“No.” His mind leaped. “It’s not the same girl.”
“Ah.” She nodded, lips pursed. “I see. Well. Are you coming to your parents’ for dinner tomorrow night? They’ve invited Keara and me.”
Shane flicked a glance at Keara. “Uh…yeah. They invited me. I’m not sure…”
He could tell she was listening to his response. In fact, he could sense the tension that seized her as she awaited it.
“Will you bring your new girlfriend?” Maeve asked.
Jesus. What had he gotten himself into? “No. No, I won’t. I may not be able to make it.”
“Oh.” Maeve’s bottom lip pouted. “That’s too bad. But you do need to be having a social life.”
“I may have to work.”
“Oh.”
He sought out Keara again with his eyes. They might have a chance to talk more at his parents’ place. Maybe he should go. He couldn’t invite Keara for coffee again or Maeve would really get the wrong idea.
The three stood there for a long, slightly awkward moment. Shane didn’t know what to say, wished Maeve would leave them alone, but she didn’t budge. He sighed.
Keara reached for the condoms. “I’ll ring these up for you,” she said, her voice sounding choked. A few moments later he walked out of the store clutching another bag of prophylactics. Damn, he was spending a fortune on rubbers.
Chapter Seven
Shane knew he wasn’t going to stay away.
He’d told his mom he might have to work, so might not be there for her dinner party, but that was just an excuse and goddammit, he couldn’t stop thinking about Keara and her big shadowed eyes and her small anxiety attack. Yeah, he was still annoyed at how she’d ignored her aunt all these years, but it was kinda hard to stay mad at someone so lost and fragile, someone clearly struggling with some wicked demons.
Shit. Now he wasn’t just worried about Maeve, he was worried about Keara. What was with him and his damn desire to protect the whole damn world?
He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked in the front door of his parents’ house. They still lived the in spacious three-bedroom ranch-style house on Blarney Stone Drive, shaded by palm trees and enclosed by, yes, a white picket fence, where he’d grown up. The house was nothing fancy but it had been his home all his life. His parents had once mentioned moving to one of the new seniors’ condo developments on the edge of town, but he always shut down that discussion. His da loved his yard, maintaining a meticulous carpet of lawn, and lush flowerbeds. His mom, retired from her nursing job, enjoyed cooking and entertaining. For a long time after Da’s stroke, there’d been no big gatherings at the Dunstan home, but more recently they’d gotten back into having friends over nearly every week.
His parents had always wanted a big family and it had been a disappointment to them to have been able to have only one child, and late in life. Which is maybe why Shane felt such a deep obligation to his parents, to be there for them.
“Hey, Ma, I’m here!” He stepped into the foyer and heard a babble of voices in the kitchen. He followed the scent of roasting meat—was that roast beef?—and the sound of chattering voices into the large kitchen at the back of the house where the party always seemed to end up.
A crowd of people stood two or three deep around the big
