She swallowed. “Do you think…?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can she run a business if she can’t remember things? What if she forgets to pay her bills? Order stock?”

Shane’s eyes shadowed. “I know. That’s what I’m worried about. I can’t be here all the time. Lord knows I have my own family to worry about.”

She studied him. “What do you mean? Are your parents not okay, Shane?”

She’d met them a few times that summer. Shane’s parents were so much fun—they made every dinner a party, every get-together full of food and drink, music and talk, laughter and love.

His mouth firmed. “Da had a stroke a couple of years ago.”

“Oh no. I’m so sorry…is he okay?”

“He’s alive.” Shane shrugged. “Actually he’s doing very well. But it’s been a long rehab. It’s been pretty hard on both of them.”

“I’m sure it has.” Her heart squeezed. “I didn’t know about that.”

“Why would you? Anyway, now you’ve finally deigned to visit…”

Anger flared inside her and she straightened her spine. “Deigned? Jesus Christ, you really think you’re just perfect, don’t you? I’m sorry I can’t live up to your high standards of perfection, but I have a life and…”

“Shut up.”

She gaped at him.

To her utter shock, he laughed. Laughed! “I shouldn’t have said that but I’d rather see you mad than defeated.”

“What!”

“I know you’re busy. I was about to say, you being here now is good, you can keep an eye on her and see how bad things are.”

“But—” She stopped. She wanted to scream. He could not just push her buttons with those self-righteous, judgmental little comments, and then not let her defend herself. Aaaaargh! She drew in a long, slow breath. “I’ll keep an eye on her. Excuse me.” She lifted her chin in a request for him to move so she could stand and he did. “I’d offer to pay for coffee but I left without my purse.”

“It’s fine. I got it.” He shoved his hand into his front pocket. The gesture was so masculine and sexy it made her stomach flutter. He pulled out a few bills and tossed them on the table. “Let’s go.”

He left her at the door of the shop with a scowl and a muttered “See ya later”. Keara pushed into the store, still seething.

Deep breath, she reminded herself. Luckily Maeve was talking to a customer and she had a few minutes to stand behind the counter, breathing, forcing herself to be rational. This was one of the things Dr. Cogan had mentioned—being irritable, getting angry over little things. Dammit. Even though she knew about it, she just couldn’t seem to help it. And Shane seemed to know just how to push her buttons.

He probably wasn’t doing it on purpose. She repeated that thought over and over. It was just her, overreacting. Guilty conscience, shredded nerves, paranoia…that was her lately. She inhaled another long pull of air, forced a smile as Maeve and the customer approached the counter.

After the customer had left, Maeve turned to Keara, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “So…how was your coffee with Shane?”

Oh lord. Keara swallowed her sigh. “He’s very annoying,” she muttered.

Maeve lifted a brow. “Hmmm.”

“Hmm what?” Annoyance at Maeve’s tone snapped inside her and she fought to push it down.

“There are sparks between you two,” Maeve observed.

“Ha! Sparks! Yeah, right.”

Maeve’s mouth curved into a wicked smile. “Definitely sparks.”

Thankfully another customer entered the store and they weren’t able to continue that ridiculous conversation.

The man who walked in glanced at them, then quickly away. The hood of his black sweatshirt covered his head and he kept his chin tucked inside the neckline. The sight reminded her of gang members, and a shiver ran through her. Then she rolled her eyes at her own paranoid fear. Someone coming into a sex shop who didn’t want to be recognized was nothing out of the ordinary.

Maeve approached him to ask if he needed any help, but he shook his head and, without meeting her eyes, turned away to inspect the shelves of books.

Maeve winked at Keara when she returned to the counter, now standing in front of it. “We’ll just let him look,” she whispered. “He seems embarrassed.” In a louder tone, she said, “I’ll be in my office for a few minutes if you can handle things here.”

“Sure.”

Keara kept an eye on the kid, who looked to be only about twenty years old, while she did some tidying behind the counter. He appeared to watch Maeve leave through the Staff Only door, then moved from one display to another in the store, keeping his face averted from Keara. Then without a purchase or even another word, he left the store.

Amused, she wondered what he’d been looking for and then lost his nerve.

More customers came in after him and she was grateful for the distraction that took her mind off both Shane and his annoyingly hostile attitude toward her, and disturbing thoughts about Maeve’s memory.

“I need a vibrator.”

Keara turned to the woman at the counter. “Of course. They’re right over here.”

“It has to be quiet,” the woman added, following Keara. “Very quiet. I have three teenage sons. They cannot hear it.”

Oookay. Keara had no idea which vibrator was the quietest and they spent an interesting ten minutes testing each one to find out. The woman finally made her selection, then left.

Maeve returned to help with a little rush of business and then they closed the shop for the day. “Tuesday night is my bridge night,” Maeve told her. “Would you like to come? Tonight is at Fiona’s home.”

Shane’s mom.

“Uh, no. That’s okay. I don’t play bridge.”

“You could just come for the company.” Maeve eyed her.

“I’ll be fine here,” Keara said with a smile. “You go and have fun.”

“Well. If you’re sure…”

“I’m fine, Maeve.” Unfortunately, Maeve now seemed protective and worried about her. Just like her friends. “Really.”

So after a quick dinner, Maeve disappeared with a wave, leaving Keara alone in the apartment. It was the first time she’d been alone—meaning the entire building was empty, not just alone in the apartment with Maeve downstairs—and Keara was acutely aware of it. Knowing there was an alarm system protecting the shop helped. She locked the door at the top of the stairs behind Maeve and turned to the small living room.

She’d lived alone for many years and it had never bothered her.

The television provided welcome background noise and she flicked through the channels until she found an episode of Sex and the City. With a smile, she recalled Shane’s comment about her life in LA. She shook her head. Maeve may think her niece was living a sexually liberated single-girl lifestyle like that, but that was wishful thinking on her part.

Maeve. She sighed, her attention diverted from the show she’d seen before by worry about Maeve. Lots of older people had problems with memory. Was it considered a natural part of aging?

Keara’s parents had died the year she’d graduated from college, in a car crash on the freeway. She still missed them, although the pain of their tragic death had faded, but at this moment she longed for another family member to share this burden with. Her friends were great, but they couldn’t help her with this. Alone, responsibility for Maeve weighed heavily on her. Even someone to talk to, to ask questions of, would help.

Maeve had always been there for her, in the background, and although Keara hadn’t seen her much, they talked on the telephone occasionally, emailed and sent cards. Now Keara was going through a personal crisis, she’d turned to Maeve, only to find that Maeve had problems of her own.

Maybe. She still didn’t know how serious it was. But if Shane was worried too, enough to talk to her about it, it was more than just a vague uneasiness at a couple of forgotten conversations. And Keara had no idea what to do about it.

She hadn’t anticipated something like this when she’d decided to come stay with Maeve. Selfishly, she’d only been thinking about herself and her own problems and trying to get better, hoping that staying with someone would ease her twitchy nerves, and instead she just had one more burden, one more thing to worry about and…dammit, one more thing to feel guilty about.