Jenny grinned broadly at the prospect and yanked her mother down the sidewalk.
Liam chuckled. “How come sisters always want to see their brothers humiliated?”
“Probably because brothers make it their mission to ignore their sisters,” Marc muttered, his gaze again fixed on the vision in yellow across the street.
“It looks like Mari grew up real nice,” Liam murmured as he rubbed his goatee speculatively. Liam wore sunglasses, but Marc sensed the appreciative gleam in his brother’s eyes as he studied Mari. When he saw Marc’s glare, Liam just raised his eyebrows in a playful expression that said loud and clear, so sue me for noticing the obvious.
He felt like he was still recovering from a sucker punch to the gut.
At first, he’d had the wild thought that her presence in Harbor Town was somehow related to what had happened in that hotel room in Chicago. When he saw how Mari made a point of avoiding his gaze, though, he wondered.
“Is Ryan with her?” Marc asked slowly, not liking the idea of Mari’s insolent brother residing down the street from his mom, even if it was just for a few nights. Ryan Itani’s behavior during the lawsuit hearings stood out as one of the worst in a collection of bad memories from that time of his life.
“No. Ryan’s still in the Air Force, doing a tour of duty in Afghanistan. I just heard Mari was here to sell the house, and I saw the car in the driveway, so I guess it’s true. It’s none of my business. I’m just relieved they’re finally selling. That house has been a blight on Sycamore Avenue for fifteen years now. Mari and Ryan wouldn’t even rent it out to vacationers.”
“You’d have just complained if they’d rented it out to vacationers, Ma. Besides, Joe Brown keeps the place in good shape.”
Liam paused when Brigit shot him an annoyed glance. Marc smirked at his brother. You walked right into that trap, sucker. Liam should have known better than to say something reasonable when it came to the topic of the Itanis. Hadn’t they learned years ago that when it came to matters of grief and loss, logic went the way of friendship, compassion…love?
Straight to hell, in other words.
“Who’s the guy with Mari?” Liam asked once their view was no longer obscured.
Marc froze. He’d been so focused on Mari he hadn’t noticed the tall, good-looking man standing next to her.
Brigit sniffed at Liam’s question.
“That’s Eric Reyes. He’s a doctor now. I’m sure Mari and him have plenty to talk about. Gloat over, more likely. I think I’ll go and catch up with Colleen. There’s nothing left to see here,” Brigit said before she departed in a huff. So that was Eric Reyes. The seething, skinny kid he recalled from the court battle for his father’s estate had grown into a formidable-looking man. Had his mother said doctor? Reyes must have used the money he’d received in the lawsuit to send himself to medical school.
Fury burned in his chest. Not about the lawsuit. He was a state’s attorney, after all, a victim’s advocate first and foremost. Marc had long ago come to terms with the fact that in catastrophes like the one his father had caused, the victims’ damages weren’t likely to be covered merely by insurance. A good portion of his father’s personal assets had been ordered liquidated and disbursed to the Itani and Reyes families.
He’d never been able to make his mother see things as he did. Feeling as if she and her children were being punished for Derry’s crime, Brigit had been bewildered and hurt by the other families’ legal actions. Brigit had needed to sell the family home in Chicago and relocate to the summer house in Harbor Town. She’d been forced to pay a good portion of a lifetime’s savings, including her children’s college funds, in order to legally amend for her husband’s actions.
The crash had meant crushing loss and grief. The lawsuits had built walls of betrayal and fury between the families involved.
Mari had never actively taken part in the proceedings. Her aunt and older brother had kept her protected in Chicago following her parents’ deaths. She’d been young at the time—only eighteen. As he studied Mari’s averted profile, Marc wondered for the hundred thousandth time what she thought of the whole affair, what she’d thought of him all these years. The topic had never come up during that intense, impulsive night in Chicago.
They’d been too involved in other things.
He grimaced at the thought. He couldn’t help but feel the stark symbolism of having shared something so intimate with Mari only to now be standing on opposite sides of a Harbor Town street.
Reyes put his arm around Mari’s shoulder and stroked skin that Marc knew from experience was as soft and smooth as a new flower petal.
It made sense, Mari together with Reyes. Blood was thicker than water, but shared, spilled blood was perhaps even more binding. Isn’t that what they said about soldiers who watched each other’s backs in wartime? They’d do favors for each other that they might refuse to do for a family member.
I can’t compete with that, he thought darkly.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to. Not after Mari had made a point of abandoning him following their soul-searing reunion.
“Are you going to talk to her?” Liam prodded.
He twisted his mouth into a frown. “Something tells me she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”
Liam’s eyebrows shot up. He opened his mouth to say something, but when Marc turned a grim face to him, he closed it again.
By the time Marc entered Jake’s Place accompanied by Colleen and Liam at ten that night, Colleen had commented on his bad mood. Marc had gone from preoccupied to morose as the day had progressed. He’d convinced himself that Mari was right to avoid him. Their impulsive tryst in Chicago had been a mistake, some kind of residual, emotional backfire from their charged history together as kids.
He’d just gotten a divorce eighteen months ago. Hadn’t he made a firm pact with himself that he wasn’t going to consider any serious relationships for quite some time, anyway?
No sooner had they stepped into Jake’s loud, crowded, front room when Marc saw her. She sat in a booth across from Eric Reyes, laughing at something he’d just said. Even though Marc had decided just seconds ago that Mari and he were best separated by two thirds of a continent, his feet seemed to disagree with his brain.
This had nothing to do with logic.
He plunged through the crowd, ignoring Colleen’s shouted question. His entire awareness had narrowed down to a single, precise focus.
Mari’s eyes widened in surprise when he strode up to the booth.
“Let’s dance, Mari.”
Chapter Two
Mari stared mutely up at Marc. The man’s full impact struck her just as powerfully as it had when he’d unexpectedly tracked her down in Chicago.
God, he’d turned into a beautiful man.
His once-light hair had darkened to a burnished gold. He wore it short now, but the conservative style couldn’t suppress the natural wave. Whiskers shadowed his jaw. He looked just as good in a suit and tie as he did in the casual white button-down shirt and jeans he wore at present, but Mari knew which outfit Marc preferred. The wildness of the Kavanaugh spirit could never be disguised by the packaging of refined clothing.
He was still as lean as he’d been at twenty-one, but he’d gained some muscle in his chest and shoulders. She dragged her eyes off the tempting sight of his strong thighs and narrow hips encased in faded, extremely well-fitting denims and met his stare.
He looked good enough to eat—and furious. His eyes glittered like blue flames in his tanned face. Just before he walked up to the booth, she’d been telling Eric she was feeling exhausted after their