“I guess we all wish our family won’t get old,” he finally said. “But it happens.”

“Your dad seems pretty good. He limps a little. I almost didn’t notice that he only used his right arm to eat.”

Shane nodded. “He’s amazing.”

Surrounded by laughter, talk, harp music and clinking glasses, they continued to gaze at each other, the air thickening. Shane wanted to lean over and kiss her.

Well. This wasn’t exactly a romantic location. In fact he couldn’t think of anywhere less romantic than a messy kitchen surrounded by people, including his parents and her aunt, laughing uproariously at something,

He took a big breath and sat back.

“This evening seems to have done you good,” he commented.

“What does that mean?”

Ah hell, now he was going to insult her again by telling her she looked crappy. The charm just kept oozing out of him around her. “Ever since you got here, to Kilkenny I mean, you’ve looked like someone who just got out of a war zone.”

She gave a choked little laugh as she lifted her wineglass to her lips. “Thank you very much.”

He tipped his head. “You’re gorgeous, Keara, and you know it. But you look so sad and you’re so jumpy. What’s going on?”

She paused, turned and lifted those emerald eyes to meet his gaze. “Nothing’s going on.”

“Bullshit.”

Amusement sparkled in her eyes.

“Maybe I can help.”

She lowered her chin. “Could we not talk about this?”

“Keara. What happened?”

She gave her head a tiny shake. “I’m okay.”

“Clearly, you’re not okay,” he argued, not sure why he was. “Have you seen a doctor?”

She slid off the stool to her feet and Shane reached out and grabbed her wrist. She flinched. Hell.

“Keara. Do you have post-traumatic stress disorder?”

She glared at him. “None of your business.”

“Keara. PTSD isn’t anything to be ashamed of. Lots of people have it.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

After a brief pause, he said, “I had it.”

Her mouth fell open, and the soft bottom lip invited him to kiss and nibble. He leaned toward her. Stopped.

“You had PTSD? When?”

“When I came back from Afghanistan.”

“Really.”

She sank back down onto the stool. Again they sat there just looking at each other, a connection drawing them together like an invisible cord. Keara broke the eye contact to gulp some wine.

“So maybe I can help,” he said softly.

“Maeve says I need sex.”

Shane choked. “Oh. Well. I guess that’s not surprising. Maeve thinks everyone needs sex.”

“True. She was citing the many health benefits of sex to me, including some hormones that will make me feel better. It’s good for stress, apparently. And sleep.”

“Ah.” He considered that. “There may be some truth to that.”

“I’m sure there is,” she agreed. “But…” Her voice trailed off and she rubbed her finger over the drops of moisture on the outside of the glass.

“You know, now that you mention it, that’s a damn fine idea.” Shane sat up straighter, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “And since I did just offer to help…”

Her hand stilled and her mouth fell open.

“Just to…you know…make you feel better,” he finished.

“Thanks,” she croaked. “That’s good of you. But not necessary.”

“It could be worth a shot,” he persisted, shifting just close enough to inhale the floral scent of her hair. She smelled like the flowers growing up the wall just outside the French doors. Jasmine? Honeysuckle? Whatever. It was warm. Feminine. Damn.

“I thought you were annoyed at me. For not visiting Maeve.”

“Well, yeah. But I’ve always liked helping people—hence the job—so I’d consider it a sort of…public service.”

“Thanks. You have no idea how turned-on that makes me.”

The dry tone of her voice gave him pause. She had a point there. Shit, everything he said around her came out wrong.

“Well, it’s not that it would be a hardship,” he tried to backtrack.

“More flattery to go to my head.”

He laughed. And Keara smiled. A genuine, wide smile that sparked her eyes and turned her face…stunning. Attraction pulled him toward her, the urge to touch her almost overwhelming.

Joe McKinnny approached them to ask Shane what to do about his neighbor’s barking dog and Shane talked to him with as much patience as he could dig up, but wanted to growl when Keara stood and excused herself with a smile.

It was an hour before Shane could find his way to her side again, after talking with other guests, helping his mom serve dessert and finding a minute when Keara wasn’t occupied in conversation. What had started as a crazy joke had lodged itself in his mind, and his dick, apparently, which had been half hard ever since they’d talked about having sex, and he wanted to pursue that possibility.

Keara had been talking to Darlene from across the street for quite some time, and her eyes had begun to glaze over.

“Darlene, you’re looking stunning tonight,” Shane said, moving between them. “You’ve lost weight haven’t you?”

Darlene smiled with delight. “Yes, I have.”

“Would you excuse us? There’s something I need to show Keara.”

He took Keara’s arm and led her away from Darlene. Keara also murmured an “excuse me” to the woman.

“Was she telling you about her hysterectomy?” he said in her ear, steering her through the crowd to French doors leading out onto the patio.

Keara snorted a laugh. “Yes, as a matter of fact she was. That was apparently quite the tumor they removed. Benign, luckily.”

“Mmm. She loves to talk about her health. I thought I’d rescue you.”

“Thank you, I guess.”

They stepped out onto the patio, paved with attractive honey-colored stones and surrounded by curved beds bursting with flowers. The sun had set, leaving the sky the intense sapphire blue of dusk. A cool breeze drifted over them along with the scent of the jasmine flowers growing up the wall of the house.

“So where were we?” Shane said. “I think we were interrupted as we were about to leave and go to my place.”

“We were?” She eyed him, clutching her empty wineglass. That was no good. She needed a refill. “I don’t recall that.”

“I recall you saying that you needed to have sex.”

She sputtered. “I didn’t say that! Maeve is the one saying that. And it’s only a theory.”

“Ah. Right. But one worth checking out, don’t you think?”

The sound of the party was muted outside here, and crickets chirruped somewhere behind them.

“Shane.” She stared at him. “This is not a good idea.”

He met her eyes. “Why not? I think she could be right.”

She sighed and his eyes were drawn to the way her breasts rose and fell beneath the black blouse she wore. “I don’t even know where to start. There are about a million reasons.”

He shifted close enough to feel the warmth of her body, close enough to see that she did indeed still have faint freckles on her small nose, close enough to see the tiny flecks of lighter green in her emerald eyes.

“So? What are they?”

She moved away from him. “Well, first of all we’re not teenagers anymore. Second, I’m not looking for any kind of relationship. Third, my aunt is friends with your parents. Fourth, uh…”

“See, there aren’t a million reasons.” He smiled and breathed in her sweet scent again. “True, we’re not teenagers anymore. I see that as a plus. And no one said anything about a relationship, so don’t panic about that. We’re just talking about sex here. We both know how good it was. Aren’t you curious to know if it still is?” He stroked a hand from her shoulder down over her bare arm to her wrist, his fingers resting on the warm pulse point. She shivered.

He was doing pretty good. She seemed to be softening—her eyes warming and her smile widening. She shook her head.

“And as far as Maeve and my parents being friends—another thing that has nothing to do with us having sex.” He bent his head and stroked his fingers back up to her inner elbow, her skin as soft as the petunia petals in the basket beside them.