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“Yeah,” he said.

“I’ve become good friends with McKenna,” she said, reaching across the table to place her hand on top of his. “She speaks about you with genuine affection.”

“Really?” he asked, a weight he didn’t realize had been pressing on his chest suddenly lifting.

“Really.” Vivian patted his hand before pulling hers away. It took everything he had not to grasp it again, to cling to it. “She doesn’t act like someone trying to force a relationship or harboring ill will. She just sounds like someone who’s grateful to have her father in her life now.”

Dean didn’t realize how badly he needed to hear those words. He and McKenna had talked a few times about the past and their feelings, but because he knew just how sweet and compassionate his daughter was, he could never fully convince himself that she’d forgiven him and moved on. Not even when she swore to him that she’d never harbored any ill feelings toward him, insisting that her life had been wonderful, and that she’d been grateful for the financial support he’d provided her and Ellie, since it had allowed them to live a comfortable life.

“You can’t change the years you missed, Dean, but you don’t have to let them steal the years you still have.”

Dean looked at her for a long moment. Her words were simple and right. Vivian might be fourteen years younger than him, but she was a hell of a lot wiser.

“Thanks.”

She smiled. “You don’t have to thank me.”

Somewhere between canceled flights, shared exhaustion, and a peaceful dinner, Dean suddenly understood he wasn’t just passing time with Victor’s little sister anymore. He was getting to know the incredible woman Vivian Kelly was…and he wanted to know more about her.

No. That wasn’t accurate.

He wanted to know everything about her.

Chapter Two

Vivian hadn’t expected her time in Boston to stretch out the way it had. What was supposed to be a quick overnight trip to meet with her editor over proposed changes to her book had started well enough. The flight to Massachusetts had been uneventful. After landing, she’d grabbed a cab straight to the restaurant her editor had selected for their meeting spot. They’d enjoyed a pleasant working lunch, accomplishing everything they’d hoped. It had ended early enough that she’d had time to walk around Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market, picking up silly souvenirs for Pip, Belle, and Victor.

The publisher had put her up in a great hotel near the Freedom Trail, with a wonderful view, so yeah, day one of this adventure had been a dream.

Today, however, had been a completely different story. After too many postponed—then canceled—flights, she’d given up hope of seeing her own bed tonight, mentally preparing herself for an uncomfortable night stuck at the airport.

Running into Dean had been a very pleasant surprise.

Unbeknownst to him, he’d been her first serious crush. Victor had introduced them one afternoon following a preseason workout, just a few days before she was to leave for Cornell and her freshman year.

Vivian had never been one of those boy-crazy girls, like so many of her friends in high school—too focused on her schoolwork to give a shit about a social life. So, she’d made it all the way to the ripe old age of eighteen without ever having a boyfriend or even a first kiss. Not that she really cared about that. Because unlike her girlfriends, who’d been making out in the back seats of cars and spending an inordinate amount of time at the mall, she’d managed to graduate high school with not only a diploma but also an associate’s degree, thanks to a crap-ton of advanced placement courses.

That summer between graduation and leaving for college had been…well, in a word, fucking horrible. That was two words, but she couldn’t leave the word horrible dangling there without the extra part.

She and Victor had lost their parents to a drunk driver just a few days after her graduation. Victor had arrived in North Branford, Connecticut, their hometown, within hours of receiving the call, and he remained there for two months. That time was a blur as they planned a funeral together, then tried to figure out what the hell came next.

In the end, they’d decided to sell their childhood home. Victor, who’d been living in a condo, bought a house that fall, since Vivian would be coming “home” to Baltimore for holidays.

Every single day of that summer had consisted of her simply putting one foot in front of the other, hoping against hope that she’d make it to the other end of the pain to find something that didn’t hurt so bad.

She’d borrowed Victor’s car to run some errands on that fateful day twelve years ago, promising to pick him up following practice. He and Dean had left the stadium together, and Vivian was suddenly inundated with—Jesus—full-blown attraction for the first time in her young life.

She could still recall the way her breath had caught and her cheeks flushed when Victor introduced them. Dean had given her that same charming smile she’d seen countless times today, and she’d fallen head over heels in lust.

The next time she saw him was the night at the pub that he’d mentioned earlier, over the holidays a few months later.

She took a sip of her wine, then decided she’d had too much when she heard the next words coming out of her mouth. “You know, I had a bit of a crush on you way back when.”

Dean lifted an eyebrow, then his eyes twinkled in pure amusement. “So my hockey god superpowers took you down too?”

She snorted. “Aaaaaand now I regret confessing that to you.”

Dean laughed. “Don’t stop now. Tell me more.”