

### MIDNIGHT RUN

### Once Upon a Desire

### By Jen McConnel

MIDNIGHT RUN

By Jen McConnel

Published by Jen McConnel

Smashwords Edition, 2nd edition

Copyright 2018

Cover Design Brightfish Press

This book originally appeared under the pen name "Charity Hillis" in 2015.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters, locations, and events are products of the author's mind, or have been used in a fictitious manner. The author acknowledges the right of all trademark holders for products mentioned in this work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or to actual events, is purely coincidental.

License Statement:

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Copyright

A Note from the Author

More from the Once Upon a Desire Series

### CHAPTER ONE

Sometimes, Nora felt like the only reason she bothered getting up in the morning was her daily run.

Cold mist swirled across the trail, making Central Park feel ghostly and foreign, and Nora's feet hit the ground with a rhythm as familiar as her heartbeat. She'd stopped running with music after her first 5k; the songs that had once pushed her to keep going when she didn't think she could take another step became superfluous as the runner's high took over. Now, the city provided her soundtrack, and her runs were almost meditative.

Somewhere across the park, a dog called out a greeting, but Nora couldn't see him. The dense fog still obscured her surroundings, making it seem as if she were running in a dream, and Nora wasn't sure how long the other runner had been following her until he pulled up alongside her.

She heard him before she saw him; the echo of footsteps that didn't quite match her own, and then, suddenly, a tall figure with jet black hair loomed up at her elbow.

She gave him a quick nod as he pulled alongside her, her brown ponytail bobbing with the motion, but the guy barely glanced in her direction. _Maybe he didn't notice me in the fog_ , Nora thought, fighting down the irritation that flared as the other jogger moved ahead without acknowledging her at all.

But the run had turned sour, and Nora was distracted as she finished her final loop around the park. By then, the fog had started to lift, and the air was sharp and smelled like snow. Drenched in cold sweat, Nora hurried through her cool-down and rushed to catch her train, glancing at the cloudy sky nervously. The sun had started to rise while she ran, but the buildings around her blocked it from view. It would be tight, but she should still have time to hit her apartment and shower before her shift. _And besides_ , she thought grimly, _it's not like anyone will notice if I'm a few minutes late._

***

She was wrong; they noticed. Books and Brew had been getting increasingly popular, and now that NYU was back in session, the coffee shop was slammed by the time Nora punched in, thirty minutes after her shift was supposed to start. Her manager, Todd, tugged on his moustache and glared at her pointedly as she took her place behind the register, and Laurel, one of the other baristas, rolled her eyes.

"Looks like the princess is late again," she announced to Caity, another girl behind the counter.

Caity snorted. "What's the matter, Nora? Did your morning run turn into a walk?"

Nora felt her cheeks heating up, but she tried to ignore the girls and their barbs. Self-consciously, she pushed her tortoiseshell glasses higher on her nose and tried to smile. She usually got along pretty well with everyone, but from the moment Laurel and Caity had been hired, it was almost like they had it out for her. Nora wasn't sure what she'd done to piss them off, but that didn't stop them from tormenting her.

Luckily, there wasn't enough down time for the girls to do more than snipe at her when she first came in, and Nora was soon up to her elbows in lattes and coffee grounds, juggling three orders at once all while trying not to slip on the old, cracked tile floor. The college kids liked Books and Brew because it had atmosphere; the mismatched walls gave off a funky vibe, and the broken ceramic tile that covered the floor, left over from a long dead business that had filled the space before the coffee shop existed, made everything feel a bit old-fashioned. Cleaning the cracked tiles, however, was hellish; coffee and spilled milk had a way of collecting along the grout lines, and the floor looked pretty disgusting at the end of each day. If Nora hadn't taken to scrubbing it on her hands on knees after the shop had closed every night, she was pretty sure the health inspector would have shut them down already.

When there was a break in the customers, Todd pulled her away from the counter. "Some kid tossed his cookies in the front corner," he said, jerking his thumb toward the offending spot. "Grab the mop and take care of it, would you?"

Nora bit her lip. "Shouldn't we let his parents clean it up?" _And isn't it, like, a biohazard?_

Todd rolled his eyes and ran his hands over his salt and pepper hair. "They'd left before I noticed. Chop, chop, Nora, get on it."

She cringed, but she nodded. With a tug, she tightened her ponytail before tackling the job, but the elastic band snapped and dropped to the floor. Her hair, which had still been wet from her shower when she headed to work, cascaded around her face in loose waves, and Nora reached for the spare elastic she always wore around her wrist. Her fingers only met skin, however, and Nora remembered with a sinking sensation that she'd been too late to grab a spare hair tie that morning.

Her eyes swung back to the counter, and for a moment, she debated asking one of the other girls if they could lend her one, but she dismissed that idea almost immediately. Grabbing the mop, a yellow "wet floor" sign, and a pair of elbow-length rubber gloves, Nora pushed her way through patrons to the pile of puke on the floor. Her stomach churned, and she glanced at the counter again, wondering if there was any way she could get out of it. Laurel caught her eye and smirked, and Nora sighed, tucking her hair behind her ears. There was no way anyone else would clean up the mess, especially not since Todd had specifically told her to do it, so she might as well stop dawdling.

Pulling the chairs out of the way, Nora slopped water over the floor, wrinkling her nose at the smell. She wasn't sure which was worse; the vomit, or the stale mop water. _I must have forgotten to empty the bucket last night,_ she chastised herself. _And of course nobody noticed._

Reaching under the table, Nora slid the mop back to the wall, hoping she could reach most of the mess. There wasn't really room to move the table out of the way, not during business hours, and Nora didn't relish crawling into any leftover vomit when she was finally able to give the shop a good cleaning that evening. Bending over to check under the table, she pulled the mop back and heard a startled "Oomph" from behind her.

As she whirled around to apologize to whoever she'd just hit, her foot skidded on the wet floor, and Nora flailed, her arms wind-milling as she started to fall. She gritted her teeth, anticipating the sharp pain that waited for her tailbone when she hit the floor, but it never came. Large, warm hands wrapped around her upper arms, pulling her upright with a jerk. Trying to ignore the pain in her shoulders, Nora looked up and caught her breath.

Her rescuer had to be one of the most gorgeous men she'd ever seen. _No, scratch that,_ she thought as her eyes took in his sinewy, powerful frame. _The_ most gorgeous. He towered over Nora, and his short dark hair and chiseled jaw made him look like he'd walked out of the pages of a magazine ad.

Gray eyes met hers, and the tan skin around them crinkled as the guy smiled. "Careful, hon. That floor's pretty slick."

Nora's heart fell out of her chest. He had a perfect southern drawl, like something out of a trashy soap opera, and his inky hair and deep tan completed the picture. For a moment, she wondered what he'd look like in a pair of tight jeans slung up with one of those wide, beefy belt buckles. She stared at him stupidly before she shook herself and forced a smile.

"Thanks; I was just mopping, and then I hit something—" she swallowed. "Did I hit you?"

He shrugged. "No harm done."

"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry. Can I buy you a coffee or something to make it up to you? I swear, we don't usually put our customers in danger or anything," she babbled, pushing her glasses high on her nose nervously. She was aware of how ridiculous she sounded, but somehow unable to stop the flow of words. "I mean, whatever you want, just to say I'm sorry."

His smile stretched wider. "Back home, I'd be the one buying you coffee. But I guess that's New York for you!"

Embarrassed, Nora tried to backpedal. "Where's home?" She asked, plopping the mop back in the pail and watching his expressive face.

"Texas," he drawled, his accent even thicker when he said the word. "What about you? Seems like just about everyone I've met in New York is from somewhere else."

Before she could answer, a tall, chic blond slipped up to Tex's side and slid her arm around his waist with a quick glance at Nora.

"Sorry I'm late, sweetie," she purred, her perfectly made-up lips pouting sweetly. "I got held up in that meeting."

Shifting his attention away from Nora, the gorgeous guy gave the blond the same heart-stopping smile he'd offered to Nora. "No worries, darlin'." He glanced back in Nora's direction, his eyes bright. "Thanks for the chat, hon."

Nora nodded, her throat thick. "Any time. Um, be careful; the floor's wet."

The Texan laughed like she'd made a joke, and Nora flushed, remembering how'd he'd caught her. "Of course," he offered solemnly. Before he turned away again, he gave her a quick wink, and Nora's cheeks grew even hotter.

She watched as they walked toward the counter, the blond's black heels making her legs look even longer in her charcoal pencil skirt, and the Texan's tall, dark frame the perfect contrast to her leggy beauty. He didn't put his arm around her or anything, but the blond's territorial expression made it pretty clear that he was off limits. Nora sighed and dragged the mop and bucket back behind the counter.

From the back, she strained to listen, catching the Texan's slow drawl as he ordered drinks, but Nora didn't come around the counter to help. She dawdled with the mop, dumping out the murky water and refilling the bucket. By the time she came out front again, the Texan and his date had left, and Nora breathed a sigh that was half relief and half disappointment.

_He wouldn't have been interested in you, anyway,_ Nora thought crabbily as she looked down at her lean runner's body. _Guys like that want girls who know how to wear makeup and a pair of high heels and walk like they own the world._ Nora had never known how to pull that kind of confidence off; the only time she felt even remotely powerful was when her feet were pounding the pavement.

"Here," Laurel said, shoving a carafe full of milk at her and snapping Nora out of her thoughts. "The skim's out over there."

Distracted, Nora rounded the corner to the small busing station near the door, where napkins, sugar, and carafes of milk with careful chalk labels waited. She wiped it down before depositing the milk and grabbing the empty container, and she noticed that the cream was getting low, too. Picking that up, she headed back around the counter just as a girl with a huge laptop pushed her chair back, knocking into the cream and slopping it all over Nora. Nora bit back a curse, but the girl didn't even notice the mess as she began packing up her bag, and Nora shook her head, annoyed.

Once she'd washed her hands and wiped down the front of her apron as best she could, Nora took over the register so Laurel could take her smoke break. Her eyes checked the clock, and she exhaled loudly.

"Surely it's not that bad," a female voice said, and Nora whirled back to the register, her cheeks red, but then she sighed in relief.

Colleen was one of her regulars, but still, Nora tried not to complain to her customers about anything at work. Laurel and Caity seemed to have no such compunctions, but that didn't mean Nora felt comfortable bitching, even to someone as grandmotherly as Colleen with her immaculate silver hair and lovely blue eyes. Nora gave her a genuine smile and rang up the order without even asking. "How's your day so far, Colleen?"

The older woman shrugged gracefully. "Better than yours, it would seem." She studied Nora's face and smiled. "Although I do like the way you're wearing your hair today."

Nora's hand went for her neck, and she shook her head ruefully. "Hair tie broke, and I haven't had a chance to scrounge up another one."

"Still, it suits you far better than that runner's tail you always wear. Don't take this the wrong way, but for a moment, I didn't recognize you."" Colleen tucked a five in the tip jar as Nora turned away to start her dark chocolate double shot mocha.

Nora smoothed her hair away from her face with a smile. "I've never really been a fan of my hair," she admitted. "It feels weird to have it down."

"Weird can be good, and in this case, dear, I'd recommend that you get used to feeling weird. It's very becoming like this."

"Maybe." She handed Colleen her drink. "I hope the afternoon is good to you!"

"You, too, dear." The older woman waved before she headed for the door.

By the time they'd locked the doors behind the last customers, Nora was dead on her feet, but she still filled a bucket of soapy water and got down on her hands and knees, scrubbing the ancient grout lines while Laurel and Caity restocked for the next morning. Finally, she left the coffee shop well after the winter sun had set. _At least it isn't an all-night place_ , she thought as she glanced at the dark street. _Then I'd probably never make time to run._ As it was, she staggered home to the apartment she shared with her best friend in a haze, and by the time her head hit the pillow, Nora had almost convinced herself to skip her pre-dawn run the next day.

Almost, but not quite.

### CHAPTER TWO

When Kingston moved to New York, he hadn't realized how long it would take him to adjust to the weather.

It got cold back in Texas, that was for sure, but it was the kind of cold that went along with a desert; sharp, clean, and fairly clear. The cold in Manhattan seemed to ooze out of the ground, seeping into the streets and buildings like the villain of some old b-movie. It made his lungs burn, no matter how carefully he dressed each morning for his run.

His breath hung in the air in front of him, a ghostly cloud in the early morning light, and Kingston shook his head. _Why the hell did I move here in the middle of winter? I didn't even have the good sense to get here in time for the New Year's shindig._

True, he'd had a choice; when the bank back in Fort Worth offered him a promotion, they also gave him the option to transfer to one of their other branches. Kingston knew it was juvenile, but something about New York City had always felt like a fairy tale to him, and he was giddy with anticipation when he realized that he could transfer there. So he picked Manhattan, but the bank decided when to send him.

_At least they let me have a holiday at home_ , he thought, veering around an early morning dog walker as he continued his run through Central Park. His mom had been teary when he'd announced his promotion, and she was still moping by Christmas dinner.

"Why did you have to pick somewhere so far away? You won't even be in the same time zone anymore, King." She'd said, spooning out far more mashed potatoes for him than was strictly necessary.

He'd leaned over to kiss her cheek. "It's not permanent, Ma. Just a chance for me to see what the fuss is about, that's all."

His father pointed his fork at him. "But permanent or not, you're not going to give it anything less than your all, right son?"

"Of course, sir." Kingston knew he was probably the only almost-thirty-year-old who addressed either of his parents so formally, but his father commanded respect. "I'll do the job right."

Now, three weeks after the move, Kingston still hadn't settled into a rhythm that seemed right for New York. He ran before the sun came up because that was what he'd been used to back home to escape the blistering heat of the day, but the frozen air didn't seem to force the same schedule on other runners, and he rarely saw anyone in the park. He missed running with a group; back home, he'd been a member of a handful of running clubs, but his favorite group were the Midnight Runners. There was no earthly reason to run at that hour, not even the heat, but Kingston had loved the diverse group of other nutty sports enthusiasts. _Maybe I should see if there's a club like that here._

His steps slowed, and he began his brisk cool down walk, but once he stopped running, the cold seeped through his clothes and into his bones, and Kingston gave an involuntary shiver. Cutting his walk short, he hurried back to his apartment a few blocks from the park. He knew the building was a prime location, if the price of his rent was any indication, but he hadn't rented it for prestige; the apartment was conveniently located to both his new job and the park, and since work and running were the only things on his agenda, and since he had a considerable chunk of change saved up after living at home through college and for all the years since, Kingston figured he was allowed to splurge a little bit on real estate. His mother would have fainted if she'd seen the price tag and the tiny studio that accompanied it, and his father would have shook his head and called him reckless, but Kingston didn't care.

He didn't plan on telling them, either.

CHAPTER THREE

Nora got up with her alarm, despite the persistent ache across her shoulder blades leftover from a day at work, and laced up her running shoes. Her roommate, Carl, hadn't been home when she went to bed, and he was snoring when she tiptoed into the kitchen, but somehow, he'd still left a sticky note for her on the coffee pot.

"Kick butt, sweetheart." Nora grinned and slapped the sticky note on the back of her phone before she strapped it to her arm. Hurriedly, she scribbled her own note, wishing Carl a "rocking day", and then she headed out into the city. They'd been best friends since ninth grade, when Carl moved to Nora's small town and freaked everybody out with his pierced ears and flamboyant personality, and the sticky note tradition was almost as old as their friendship. Sometimes, if Carl was in a particularly nostalgic mood, Nora would find her morning note folded into a tiny paper football, like they used to fold and flick across their desks back in high school.

Living with Carl had certainly made New York more fun; before he broke up with his last boyfriend and moved in with her, Nora had had a string of awful roommates, people she'd only met because she'd put up flyers in the neighborhood. Still, awful or not, she'd managed to keep a steady stream of co-renters for the five years she'd lived in the city, and now that Carl was there, it was starting to feel more and more likely that she'd be able to stay in New York long-term.

She'd always loved the glitz and the glamor of the place, and even five years as a barista hadn't spoiled that for her. After all that time, she was making alarmingly good money at the coffee shop; Todd had a lot of turnover with the staff, but those who stayed more than a year were rewarded with big raises every few months and crappy health insurance.

_Running, coffee, and the city_ , Nora thought with a smile as she started her run. _What more does a girl need?_ True, with her crazy schedule, it had gotten harder and harder to keep up with her folks back home in Pennsylvania, but everything had seemed fine when she was home for Christmas the previous month. Still, Nora made a mental note to try and give her mom a call sometime that weekend.

As her feet pounded the dark asphalt, Nora's mind wandered, and her six-mile loop of the park flew by. _I really need to start running the park twice_ , Nora thought as she checked the time on her phone and headed back across town to get ready for work. _That would almost be a half marathon._

Back at the apartment, she took her contacts out carefully before stepping into the shower. Even though she had the kind that could be worn all day, even to bed, Nora always wore her glasses for work; getting a coffee ground stuck under her left contact years ago had been lesson enough for her. Now she only wore her contacts for running.

Stripping off her sweaty clothes, Nora jumped into the shower, relishing the feel of the hot water against her cold skin. Running in the winter was rough, but not as bad as running in the summer; at least her body temperature had a chance to equalize in the winter, instead of staying feverish all day long. Nora wanted to linger under the spray, but she wasn't ready to risk another late entrance at Books and Brew, so she skipped conditioning her hair and rinsed off as fast as she could.

The mirror hadn't even had a chance to steam up by the time Nora was finished, and she studied her face for a moment. High, pale cheekbones framed her hazel eyes, and Nora grimaced. She'd always hated how bland she looked; brown hair, brownish eyes, and pale lips that didn't look right with any color of lipstick, no matter how many times she let the women at the makeup counter in the mall back home do her colors. Remembering what Colleen had said, Nora didn't slick her hair back right away. Watching her face in the mirror, she cautiously scrunched up the ends of her toffee colored hair, and light, bouncy waves hung around her face, stopping just above her shoulders. She shrugged. _Might as well try something different for a change._ Carl had been after her to color her hair, but Nora was never sure she could pull off any of the bold looks he suggested.

"Plain little bird," she muttered as she got dressed and grabbed her bag. Gran had always said that about her, and Nora had never worked up the courage to tell her how much it hurt.

When she made it across town, Books and Brew was hopping, but this time, Nora wasn't late. Todd scheduled her long shifts, but he hadn't made her open since she told him about running; if she'd had to get to the coffee shop before five, she could kiss her runs goodbye.

Laurel was making drinks when Nora got there, but Caity wasn't in site.

"Morning, Laurel," Nora said quietly as she tied on her apron and headed to the register.

Laurel grunted. "I guess."

Nora decided to try to be friendly. "Did you have a late night?"

Laurel nodded, brushing her dark, asymmetrical bangs off her forehead. "Yeah," she glanced cautiously at Nora. "There was a rave out in Brooklyn." She dropped her voice conspiratorially. "Didn't make it home wearing my own panties, if you know what I mean."

Nora almost grimaced at the image, but she forced herself to nod sympathetically. "Um, yeah, I've had nights like that." The closest she'd ever been to a rave was a movie she saw last summer, and she didn't even want to think about whatever Laurel meant by the underwear comment, but she wasn't about to admit that, especially not when Laurel was being almost civil to her. "Do you need some aspirin or something?"

Laurel snorted. "Just need to get through this shift." She handed a customer his latte and looked at Nora over her shoulder. "Are you going to take his order?"

"What?" Nora spun around, her cheeks instantly hot. She'd been so fixated on trying to make nice with Laurel that she hadn't heard the customer who'd been standing there waiting. Her eyes locked on his tan face, and Nora cringed, thinking about the underwear exchange. How long had he been there?

Tex's face lit up. "It's you again, hon. Nice to bump into you."

Nora's skin started to tingle under his gaze. "You, too," she finally managed to say.

He leaned on the counter, his eyes skimming her face before coming to rest on the menu board beside her. "So," he drawled, "what's good here?"

"Um, I don't know," she stuttered, "I mean, everything is pretty good. As long as you like caffeine." _Oh my gosh, what's wrong with me?_ "The coffee is great," she finished lamely, trying to figure out why her brain seemed to have deserted her.

Gunmetal gray eyes met hers, and Nora caught her breath for a moment. "I guess I'll just have a coffee," he said with a smile that nearly sent Nora into cardiac arrest.

Flustered, she reached for the cups stacked neatly beside the register, but Laurel beat her to it. Filling the Styrofoam quickly, she reached over Nora to hand it to the Texan. "On the house, handsome," she said, dropping her voice and giving him a slow, sultry smile. Nora bit her lip; she could barely form complete sentences around the guy, but Laurel was acting like they'd hooked up. _Why can't I be that confident?_ Disheartened, she started to move away from the register, but the Texan's voice stopped her.

"Thanks, hon. I hope I'll see you again soon."

Nora looked up, but he'd already turned away, and any hope that he'd been talking to her was shattered when Laurel said, "Oh, you can count on it."

Desperate to find something to distract her, Nora hurried into the back to restock the pastry case, but her mind spun in circles. Why couldn't she flirt as effortlessly as Laurel? True, she'd gone on a few dates since moving to the city, but they never ended well; she never felt like she could open up to any of the men she'd dated, and after a few failed attempts to invite her back to their apartments, they usually lost interest and drifted away. It wasn't that she wasn't interested, exactly, but maybe part of her was still looking for that illusive fairy tale spark that she'd grown up longing for. _And there's no reason to think a random Texan will do it for you, either_ , she chastised herself. It was ridiculous for her to be getting moony-eyed over a complete stranger.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she almost dropped the tray of muffins and croissants she was holding.

Todd frowned at her. "Why are you so jumpy this morning?"

She shrugged, trying to slow her heart. "Just tired, I guess."

"Well, that's no good." He looked up at the front counter. "Can you stop what you're doing for a minute? I'd like to talk to you."

Obediently, Nora set the tray down on the counter and followed Todd to his broom closet office, where he perched on the edge of his desk and gestured to a rickety wooden chair. Nora sat down gingerly. "What did you need?"

"You," the old man said bluntly. "I'm hiring a new assistant manager."

She couldn't have heard him right. "I didn't realize Shari was gone."

Todd shook his head without answering. "You're a good employee, Nora, and you've been here longer than almost anybody else. The position is yours for the taking, if you want it."

Nora stared at him, openmouthed. "Seriously?"

"Yup. You could start training as early as Monday. It's a five percent raise on your current hourly, plus a crummy little 401K package." Todd smiled at her, his silver mustache turning up comically. "What do you say?"

Although she was jumping for joy, Nora didn't want to make a rash decision. "What would the hours look like?"

Todd rubbed the back of his neck. "I sort of wish you hadn't asked. You'll have split shifts to start, opening and closing the store five days a week." He looked down at his desk and carefully shuffled a stack of papers, not making eye contact with Nora.

She deflated. "But what about my running?"

"I know, I know, but just think; a real income, kiddo. This kind of job doesn't come along that often, especially not in the coffee industry."

_He's right._ Still, Nora hesitated. "Can I have a day or two to think it over?"

Todd nodded. "Of course. Take your time, but if you could give me a decision before the weekend; if you don't want it, I'll need to pull the old applications file and see if anyone is still interested."

"What about Laurel or Caity?" The words slipped out before she could think, and Nora cringed. Did she really want Todd to offer the job to either of them? _I'm practically throwing myself under a bus! They already have it out for me; how much worse would it be if either of them was a manager?_

Todd shook his head immediately. "Not as good with the customers as you are, kiddo, not to mention the rest of the staff. It takes a certain kind of person to be a good manager. You have to make nice with the customers while still turning a profit, and you have to be friendly with your staff without letting them think you're buddies. It's a fine line to walk, and I think you'd be a natural."

Glowing from his praise, Nora smiled, even though she still wasn't sure she wanted to take the job. "I'll let you know as soon as I've decided."

Todd nodded. "Do that. But remember, Nora this isn't the kind of offer that comes around every day." He smiled at her. "I hope you'll decide to take it."

She nodded as she headed back to work. "I'll think about it," she promised.

### CHAPTER FOUR

Kingston wanted to linger at the coffee shop and watch the cute girl behind the counter, but he didn't think he could be away from the office for very long. _At least this time no one asked me to bring coffee back for them._ He didn't mind being polite and looking out for his coworkers, but it wasn't hard to see that the coffee requests during his first few days on the job had been a subtle power play from the other men in the office; Kingston sensed that they were quietly putting him in his place, letting him know that, even if he'd been a mover and a shaker at the branch back home, here in the city he was still the new kid, no better than an intern in their eyes.

Despite the office politics waiting for him as he hurried back to the skyscraper with blue reflective windows, he couldn't keep his thoughts away from the girl. She'd charmed him to pieces the first time they'd met with her big brown eyes and sweet smile, and he'd been more than a little annoyed that Carrie had shown up when she did.

He pushed through the chrome and glass revolving door and strode across the lobby to the elevator. When he'd first transferred, he'd planned on taking the stairs every day as part of his half marathon training, but thirteen flights got old real fast. _Still, I should add stairs to my regimen; maybe I should ask the group for suggestions?_ He'd finally joined a midnight runner's group, and it hadn't taken long before he felt right at home with the other runners.

The elevator doors opened, and Kingston tried to slip by Carrie's desk without drawing her attention, but her familiar voice stopped him. "Hey, sweetie. Did you bring me any coffee?"

He paused, a polite smile on his face. "Sorry, Carrie, I was in a rush."

She pouted at him from behind the reception desk. "Aw, no worries, I guess."

Kingston sighed. "Next time I'll grab you a cup," he promised, wishing he had it in him to be anything but polite to a woman. His mother had raised him right, but Carrie made him wish he'd kept his kindness to himself; ever since he invited her along for coffee that first time, she'd been pestering him each day, and Kingston swore he could feel her eyes on him while he worked. He hadn't wanted to peer over his cubicle to see if that was true or not, but he never seemed to make it past the reception desk without getting caught in a pointless conversation.

Carrie stood up and leaned toward him, and Kingston's eyes dipped to her neckline for a moment before he caught himself. She smiled at him knowingly. "Why don't we skip the coffee and get a drink tonight, huh?"

God, he hated pushy women. "No, thanks," he said, trying to keep his smile from slipping. "I've got a late night training session, so I'll need to catch a few hours of sleep right after work."

Her smile slipped. "Late night training session?"

He nodded. "I'm planning to run the half this spring."

Her brow furrowed for a moment, but then Carrie laughed. "Oh, Kingston. You're just too sweet for words; did anybody ever tell you that?"

Not sure why she was laughing or how to respond, Kingston just tipped his head toward her and retreated to his cubicle. The sound of Carrie's giggles followed him, and he shook his head in confusion.

Taking a swallow of his now-cold coffee, his thoughts drifted back to the pretty girl at the café, and he wondered if it would be too obvious if he suddenly started going there every day on his breaks.

"Knock, knock," his boss wrapped his knuckles on the top of the cubicle, and Kingston jumped, spilling coffee down the front of his shirt.

He bit back a curse, digging through his desk drawer in search of napkins while his boss watched. Making a couple of futile dabs at his chest, he grinned ruefully up at his boss. "What did you need, Mr. Fitz?"

The older man leaned casually against the flimsy wall. "I just wanted to see how you're settling in, Price"

He sort of hated that his boss insisted on referring to everyone by their last name, no "Mr." or "Ms." in front of it, but he tried not to let the rudeness get to him. Just because the other man wasn't as polite as he'd have liked didn't mean Kingston had to answer him in kind. "Fine," Kingston said. "The office may be bigger, but the work is similar to what I was used to back home." He grinned. "Only there's more of it."

Fitz quirked an eyebrow. "How long are you planning on being in this position?"

"As long as it's a good fit, I guess," Kingston said slowly. "But I don't have any plans to leave."

"Then a word of advice, son. You might want to stop referring to Texas as 'home'."

Kingston dipped his head in acknowledgement, trying not to look embarrassed. "You know how it is, sir," he said. "New York takes some getting used to, but I'm very happy here."

Fitz nodded without answering, and he moved away, leaving Kingston alone with his work. He glanced over his shoulder once, wondering if he'd given his boss the answers the man was looking for, and then he shook his head. _No use worrying. I've just got to make sure I do my job, and do a damn good job at it, too._ Things had been much more laid back in his old office, and Kingston hadn't quite adjusted to the feeling that everyone he worked with in New York was sizing him up, waiting to see if he'd sink or float.

Throwing the empty coffee cup in the trash, Kingston's thoughts returned to the pretty barista with a smile. _Pretty barista...PB._ He chuckled at the nickname. "We'll go together like peanut butter and jelly," he joked to himself as he thought about her. _And maybe_ , he thought, turning back to his computer and starting to tackle his inbox, _I'll have the guts to ask her name the next time I see her._

### CHAPTER FIVE

Carl was sprawled out on the couch when Nora got home, watching a reality show about robots, but he grinned as soon as he saw her.

"Lady, you owe me a date." He ran his hands carefully through his blue-tipped hair. "Let's go out!"

Nora shook her head. "I've got to get up early to run." She paused, considering. "I better enjoy it while I still can."

Her roommate sighed heavily. "Takeout again," he said, pulling out his phone and hitting speed dial. While he was on hold, he glanced at Nora. "What do you mean, while you still can?"

She told him about the job offer while he ordered. "I'm seriously thinking about it. I mean, a raise and a 401k? That's, like, a real job."

Carl nodded thoughtfully. "I'd go for it."

"But what about running? I was just thinking today that I might want to start training for the Half this spring."

"Why not run at night?"

She glared at him. "In Central Park? I'm not that stupid."

Carl rolled his eyes. "I'm sure there's a midnight runners' club around; why don't you look online?"

"I've never heard of anything like that," she said slowly. "Do people seriously run at night?"

"All the time. And hey, this is the city that never sleeps, right?" He joked.

Nora rolled her eyes. "How do you even know about something like this?"

Carl's smile slipped, and he started to fiddle with the gauge in his left ear. "Reggie was into running."

They hadn't really talked about Carl's breakup since he moved in, and Nora mentally kicked herself. "Oh." She'd known Carl and Reggie were serious enough to move in together in Philly, which is why their breakup combined with Carl's desire to get away had given Nora a new roommate, but Carl hadn't wanted to touch the subject the few times she'd asked, and after a couple of months, Nora had let it drop. At a loss, she gave him a quick hug, but he swatted her arms away and popped off the sofa.

"No sympathy, girl. I'm fine. But I bet you'll be able to have your cake and run it off too if you find a running group."

Nora considered it. "Maybe. I've never really trained with a group before; part of why I like running is being alone."

Carl shrugged. "I wouldn't know, but group sports always seemed like more fun to me, anyway. All those sweaty bodies getting physical together! And," he added slyly, "maybe you'll bring home a fine running buddy for me." He reached for her hand and gave her a clumsy twirl.

She laughed. "I'll do my best, but if they seriously run at midnight, I might be too tired to remember!"

Carl winked. "I'll leave you a note to remind you.

***

_Carl's right_ , Nora thought as she skimmed the Meetup group for the New York Midnight Run. The group met every day, rain or shine, in Central Park. There were tons of smaller sub-groups, too; people training for a five k, a ten k, and even the upcoming half marathon. _Bingo_. Nora clicked on the group training for the half, and before she could talk herself out of it, sent in a request to join. The site asked for a user picture, and Nora uploaded a photo she'd snapped of her running shoes right after she bought the newest pair. She'd sprung for quality that time, and although it might have been silly, she couldn't resist the urge to take a picture of the neon stripes and tight laces.

She filled out her profile, keeping it short and sweet, and set her phone down on the nightstand. _I'll tell Todd tomorrow_ , she thought, and she fell asleep with a smile, _and this gives me an even better reason to call home on Sunday!_

That weekend, Nora laced up her shoes and headed uptown for her first midnight run.

Although parts of the city were still lively, their neighborhood was deathly still, and Nora breathed a sigh of relief when she got off the mostly deserted subway car at Central Park. Even at that hour, the park's station was lively, and Nora smiled at a busker with a guitar and harmonica as she climbed up the stairs.

The website had said that the group met near the station, and when Nora emerged into the darkness, she didn't have to look very hard before she spotted a small clump of people in spandex and sneakers. A few of the runners had reflective stripes on their pants, and one guy was even wearing a flashing red light like the kind bikers wear strapped around his ankle. Nora stifled a giggle at the sight as she approached the group.

A tall woman with a clipboard was chatting with an older man, and Nora gave a little wave as she walked up. "I'm new," she began nervously, and clipboard woman smiled.

"Great! It's always good to see another face. Just need you to sign this waiver that you're here because you want to be, and that you won't hold the group accountable if you injure yourself."

Nora skimmed the page and signed it quickly. "Anything else?"

"Stretch out however you like; we'll start with a warm up mile of walk-jog intervals, but then the fun will really begin." The woman winked at her, and Nora grinned in response. Only another run junkie would define a midnight half-marathon training session as fun, and Nora already felt at home.

Still, she'd always been shy, so she stretched off to the side in the shadows as she listened to the conversations of the other runners. Most of them had obviously been coming to the group for a long time; there was an easy sense of camaraderie as they greeted one another, laughing and joking while stretching out hamstrings and bouncing on the balls of their feet. Nora felt the same anticipation fluttering in her stomach that she'd felt at her first race, even though she knew this was just a training session, not a competition, and she closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose to calm her nerves.

"You new to the group?" A twangy voice near her face asked, and Nora's eyes popped open in surprise. _I'd know that voice anywhere._

She was right; the Texan from the coffee shop was standing beside her. He almost blended in with the shadows of the park, but Nora's eyes traced his outline, his lean body even more apparent under his tight running leggings and dark mock turtleneck. For a minute, Nora just grinned at him stupidly, but finally, she found her voice. "Hi!"

"Hi, yourself," he said with a smile. "Haven't seen you before."

Her heart fell. Did he seriously not remember her from Books and Brew? Nora cleared her throat, grateful that the shadows hid her blush, and wondering if it was just too dark for him to recognize her. "Yeah," she said finally, "I'm new to the group."

"You'll love it." He flashed his smile, brilliant even in the dark. "I've been doing midnight runs back home for years."

She bent down to tighten her laces, even though she knew her shoes were fine, and snuck a glance at his lean legs. _God, he's all muscle. I wonder if he'd look as good without those running tights?_ "How long have you been in this group?"

"About two weeks; new to the city." Unaware of her scrutiny, he stretched one leg out and sank into a low lunge. Involuntarily, Nora's eyes followed his hips, and she tried to ignore the way her stomach suddenly sprouted butterflies as she checked him out. _What in the world is wrong with me?_ Her face flushed even deeper and she stood up with a jerk.

Thankfully, she was spared from having to make any more small talk when a whistle sounded, and the woman with the clipboard waved her arms. "We're all here. Let's get started!"

Tex smiled down at her, and Nora belatedly realized that she'd been so busy checking him out she'd forgotten to ask his name. Before she could say anything, though, he moved to the front of the clump of runners, and the whistle blew again and everyone started to jog slowly.

The lights of the city were visible through the trees, and Nora was reminded of an old movie she'd seen once, with Fred Astaire dancing a magical duet with a dark haired starlet in Central Park. Her eyes darted to the front of the group, instantly picking out the Texan's tall form, and she sighed, wondering what it would be like to feel his strong arms cradling her during a slow dance. At first, the easy pace did nothing to distract Nora from the fantasies her mind was spinning, but after they finished the first loop of the park, Nora's breath started coming a bit harder, and she slowed her pace, dropping to the very back of the group. The park felt different at night; Nora had expected it to be silent and sinister, but there were a handful of other people out besides the runners. Nora even spotted three different police officers, each strolling through the park unhurried and alone, and she felt a little safer. Everything looked different, too. It was almost like walking into an old-fashioned photograph; the bare trees glistened whitely under the street lamps, and even in the dark, Nora could see the frost covering the ground, adding to the strange effect.

When they finally finished running two short laps around the park, Nora's legs were ready to give out, and she was drenched in cold sweat. _I really should have started half marathon training alone before joining this group;_ she thought. A few of the other runners seemed as tired as Nora, though, and the guy who was wearing the flashing light was breathing even harder, so Nora tried to check her self-criticism as they went through a cool-down together. Now that she'd had a chance to catch her breath, her thoughts kept straying to the lanky Texan stretching out on the ground a few feet away from her. He must have felt her eyes on him, because after a moment, he looked up and gave her a broad smile. Nora looked away fast, feeling as if he'd caught her doing something she shouldn't. _Well, he did; he has a girlfriend,_ Nora reminded herself, thinking of the leggy blond from the coffee shop. _You shouldn't even be dreaming._

When the group was done, clipboard woman came over to Nora. "How was your first midnight run?"

Nora grinned. "Intense! Thanks for including me."

"Any time. A bunch of us usually go out after; tonight, we're headed for Spanky's Diner. Want to come?"

Nora paused, but she shook her head. "I really shouldn't. I start an opening shift on Monday, and I should try and stock up on sleep before the weekend is over."

Clipboard woman smiled. "No worries. But will we see you again?"

With a furtive glance at the Texan, Nora grinned. "Absolutely."

The other woman stuck out her hand. "I'm Lynne. Welcome to the group!"

***

After spending nearly two hours running around Central Park, Nora knew she should have been ready to collapse, but despite the unbearably early hour, she was wound up. _At least it won't be hard to be at work so early_ , she thought to herself as she crossed the city. _It's too bad Todd didn't want me to start right now!_ Although part of her had wanted to hang out with the rest of the running group, she'd been both terrified and thrilled at the thought of spending more time with the lanky Texan, so she'd used the excuse of sleep to leave the group behind and do a little thinking.

What was it about him that set her heart racing? _I really should hate him_ , Nora reminded herself; the guy hadn't even remembered her from the coffee shop. But despite that, she was drawn to him in a way she couldn't explain, even to herself. _And maybe_ , she tried to justify, _he just didn't recognize me in the dark. It's not like the park has the best lighting at night._ Still, his reaction to her stung, and Nora secretly wondered if it was just because there was nothing memorable about her.

She was so distracted that she almost missed her stop on the subway, and she gave herself a mental shake as she sprinted up the deserted stairs. _There's no reason to be stupid_ , she thought, glancing around and checking her surroundings. After spending five years in New York, Nora's street smarts had sharpened, and she'd never really felt unsafe in the city, but she knew the quickest way to break that winning streak was to let herself get distracted in a desolate part of town. Luckily, she made it back to her apartment without issue, and quietly let herself in.

Carl had left a note on the coffee pot for her, and Nora almost laughed when she saw it. "Don't forget to keep an eye out for a guy!" Still smiling, Nora crumpled up the note and scribbled one in return. If only Carl knew about Tex!

### CHAPTER SIX

Kingston had to fight the urge to check over his shoulder during the run; the new girl reminded him of the pretty barista he still hadn't worked up the nerve to really talk to. _Well, except for her hair,_ he thought, trying to match his strides to his breathing as the group made their first loop of the park. _And the glasses_. He shook his head. "You're just so hung up on her that you're imagining things," he muttered under his breath, struggling to draw his attention back to the run.

Still, his thoughts were scattered, and by the time the group had finished for the night, Kingston was already back to his apartment building when he realized that he hadn't said good night to Lynne. All the runners had made him feel welcome, but Lynne had kind of taken him under her wing when he showed up the first time, and he liked the older woman quite a lot. She reminded him of his sister for some reason, and Kingston kicked himself for being unintentionally rude to the woman that night.

Feeling the need to make amends somehow, he dialed his sister's number as he kicked off his running shoes. Thanks to the time difference, the hour back home was only moderately awful, as opposed to the ungodly number blinking on the clock in his kitchen. _Maybe calling Raye will give me a cosmic pass for being an ass to Lynne tonight,_ he thought as he grabbed a glass of water and sat down on the barstool in the corner of the kitchen.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Rachel answered the phone with her customary bluntness, and Kingston chuckled.

"What did I do now, Raye?"

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. "Did you even bother to check the clock before you called?"

"It's only midnight there; you can't be ready for bed yet."

"Fool. It just so happens I've got an interview tomorrow, and I was _trying_ to get some sleep."

Feeling instantly contrite, Kingston apologized, but she brushed him off.

"I'm up now. So what's going on?"

"I just wanted to chat," he offered, realizing for the first time that that was a pretty lame excuse for calling so late. "I mean...I miss y'all."

Rachel softened. "We miss you, too. The boys especially."

Kingston had always had a soft spot for his nephews, and he grinned. "How are they both?"

"With their dad this week." He could practically hear her shrug. "So who knows."

"Be fair, Raye. You know he loves them."

"Yes," she admitted, "but that doesn't mean I have to like this whole mess."

He wished he could reach across the miles and give his big sister a hug. "You doing okay?"

"Oh, I'm peachy. Nothing like a trial separation to really liven things up."

Kingston sighed. "It'll work out. However it's supposed to."

"That's pretty crappy advice."

"What do you want me to say? That love's a fairy tale?" The line was silent for a moment, and Kingston took another swallow of water, feeling like an ass. "Sorry, Raye."

"No, you're right," she said softly. "But this fairy tale sure seemed like it was going to last."

Kingston didn't know what to say. Rachel and her husband had been married for seven years, long enough to have two charming boys, buy a big house, and rescue a pair of greyhounds, but then his sister showed up for Christmas dinner without her husband, and all she'd said was that they were separated. He hadn't been able to get any more information from her than that, despite the fact that he kept fishing. "Do you want to talk—"

"Are you going to ask me about the interview?"

Kingston shook his head. "Sure. What's the job?"

"Managing editor for the Daily Sun."

His face broke into a wide smile. "Raye, that's perfect!"

"It's been a long time since I've used that journalism degree," she said. "I just hope I'm not too rusty."

"You'll blow them away. Call me tomorrow to let me know how it goes?"

"You mean today, right?"

Kingston glanced at the clock and laughed. "Right, today."

"Will do. But seriously, you jerk, I really should get some shut eye." She paused. "Everything's seriously okay with you?"

For a moment, he almost told her about the girl at the coffee shop and her sporty doppelgänger, but he decided against it. _What is there to tell? I don't even know either of their names!_ "Seriously okay and nothing to report."

"Then go to sleep, you loon."

He laughed softly. "Love you, hon."

"Love you, too."

When he hung up the phone, he didn't go to bed immediately. Instead, Kingston grabbed a beer from the fridge and sank back onto the barstool, thinking about his sister and her failing marriage. _There's nothing I can do_ , he reminded himself, twirling his phone absentmindedly on the counter. _But that doesn't make it easy to watch._

Promising himself that he'd make a point to call his nephews and Rachel more, Kingston finished off his beer and finally headed to bed, his thoughts as heavy as his limbs.

### CHAPTER SEVEN

Since Nora wasn't working on Sunday, she gave her parents a call in the midafternoon, but nobody answered. _Maybe they're at a thing at the greenhouse,_ she thought idly. Growing up, Nora had almost considered the small garden center downtown her second home; her mom had volunteered there every weekend of Nora's childhood, teaching various classes on plants and garden care, and as far as Nora knew, she was still at it. A little prickle of guilt wormed its way into Nora's mind when she thought about the greenhouse. Her mom had been after her for years to drop by and help out when she was home, but she never made the time. Gardening was a nice hobby, but she'd never caught the same passion for it that fuelled her mother.

_Her_ passion had started when she picked up her first pair of running shoes, but now she had other things on her mind. The next night, Nora considered smearing on lip gloss before she headed out to meet the running group, but she decided against it. _It's not like he'd notice_ , she told herself, trying to kill the sense of anticipation she felt at seeing the handsome guy again, but no matter what she said, her heart was racing by the time she got to Central Park, and she eagerly looked around the group for his tall, lean frame. She waved when she spotted him, and he grinned and waved back.

Before Nora could get up enough courage to go over and talk to him, Lynne blew her whistle, and without preamble, the group assembled on the pavement. This time, Nora ran near the middle on purpose; she had a good view of Tex's broad shoulders rippling through his tight shirt, and the sound of her feet on the pavement was drowned out by the thudding of her heart. What would it be like, she wondered, to run her hands along his back? Every inch of the Texan was muscular, but he wasn't too ripped, not like some photoshopped cover model. _No, he's just right, and he's very real,_ Nora thought to herself with a delightful shiver. She almost didn't notice the second part of the run, and when they finally stopped, Nora wasn't entirely sure if she were panting from exertion, or from the fantasies her mind had started to spin.

Lynne blew her whistle again, and everyone turned their attention toward her. "We've had a few new runners join us this week, so I thought instead of our usual cool down, we could do some partner exercises. So grab a buddy; new folks, find someone more experienced and get to know them!"

Nora bit her lip. _Would it be too creepy if I asked him to be my partner?_ Before she could decide, however, someone tapped her on the shoulder and Nora turned around, steeling herself to be nice to whoever it was. Her disappointment died as soon as she saw a pair of familiar gray eyes, almost silver in the darkness, staring down at her.

"Want to buddy up, hon?"

The soles of her feet started to melt, and Nora nodded at him. _Maybe wishes can come true_ , she thought, following the Texan to a patch of grass near the group and sitting down across from him, mirroring his posture.

"So," he began, stretching his legs out in front of him into a wide straddle, "I didn't catch your name."

Nora pressed the toes of her sneakers to his, opening her legs wide to reach, and tried to steady her breathing. "Nora. What about you?"

"Kingston."

She couldn't help herself; a laugh bubbled up past her lips. "What, as in Jamaica?" She tried to bite back the stupid comment, but it was too late.

Kingston just smiled. "Nope. As in Samuel Kingston Price the third." He reached for her forearms, clasping his large hands around her, and Nora shivered in delight. After a beat, she remembered that she was supposed to be doing what he did, and she wrapped her arms around his forearms, resisting the urge to stroke the fine, dark hair that covered his arms.

"Why not Sam?" Nora stammered, acutely aware of the feeling of his skin against hers.

"Named for my daddy, and his father before him." He shrugged. "Too stuffy for me. Now, don't get me wrong; I loved my granddaddy, and I respect my daddy, but Kingston suits me better." He leaned back, pulling her arms, and Nora let herself hinge forward, feeling the muscles along her back unwinding the deeper they moved into the stretch. Nora exhaled sharply when she realized that her face was hovering dangerously close to Kingston's groin, and she shut her eyes, feeling the blood rush into her cheeks. When he began to bend toward her, Nora forced herself not to watch as his dark head crept closer and closer to the inside of her thighs, but her body was acutely aware of his presence. Nora's palms were slick by the time the stretch was over, and when Kingston let go of Nora's arms, she realized how cold she suddenly was without his breath between her legs.

"What's next?" She tried to sound nonchalant, but her body was on fire from the first stretch. _If they're all as intimate as that, I might as well die right now. Heaven can't be any better_.

"Why don't we do hamstrings next? You can go first."

Wondering how he was going to turn this into a partnered stretch, Nora folded her left foot into her groin and flexed her right foot. She started to lower her torso over the extended leg, and suddenly, warm hands pressed against the small of her back, urging her deeper into the stretch. Her lips parted and an involuntary sigh escaped from her mouth, and the pressure on her back instantly eased.

"Too deep?" His voice was low and soothing, more suited to a bedroom than a midnight run in Central Park, and Nora took a deep breath, trying to catch hold of her runaway emotions.

"No," she finally managed to say, "just right."

"Good," Kingston put his hands back on her and gave her one final, gentle push. "Now the other side."

A warm, tingling sensation had started to build between Nora's legs, and she wasn't sure she could make it through another stretch without blurting out something utterly inappropriate. She gritted her teeth and tried to focus on anything but the hands at her back, but this time, instead of light pressure, Kingston rubbed a few gentle circles on her spine.

"Relax," he said. "I can feel how tense you are."

_If you only knew!_ Nora bit back a giggle and tried to fold deeper into the stretch, but every muscle in her body was acutely aware of Kingston's hands, and he shook his head gently after the stretch.

"It's no good to stretch out when you're tense. You might injure yourself."

"I'll be okay," Nora managed to say. "Your turn?"

He sat down in front of her and began to bend effortlessly into the hamstring stretch. Nora studied the way his muscles rippled across his back for a moment, and then, gingerly, she placed her palms on his lower back.

"You can push harder than that, hon. Not going to break me."

Self-consciously, Nora leaned into him, bearing down as he folded even deeper into the stretch. His breathing was deep and even, and Nora took a slow, deliberate breath, trying to steady hers to match his. _Get a grip_ , she admonished herself. _This isn't as hot as you're making it sound_.

But it was. Every time she touched Kingston or felt his hands on her, Nora's pulse raced and her body responded in ways that she didn't know it could. By the end of the cool down, Nora was more wound up than before, and she knew there was no way she was going to get any sleep that night. Just when she was gearing up to head to the diner with the rest of the group, her phone vibrated against her arm.

She glanced at it, but the number was unfamiliar. "Probably a junk call," she reasoned, setting the phone to silent and letting it go to voicemail.

To Nora's disappointment, Kingston didn't join them at the diner, but she'd already said she would go, so she didn't want to back out. It ended up being a small group; Lynne, the guy with the flashy light, who Nora learned was named Jerome, and Nora. Jerome led the way to a corner booth, and Nora slid onto the cracked vinyl after him.

Lynne smiled at her across the table. "I'm glad you decided to come out. Sometimes, it's a bigger group than others."

Jerome laughed. "Remember that time when we literally cleaned them out of pie?"

Lynne chuckled. "For a bunch of runners, sometimes we sure eat like crap."

Nora smiled, enjoying their easy banter. "How long have you both been doing the midnight thing?"

Lynne scrunched up her face in thought. "I started running after my divorce, and I got into the midnight runs by the end of that year. So I guess for me it's been seven years."

Jerome nodded. "You joined the group right after me, and seven sounds about right."

"Wow," Nora admitted, "I haven't even been running for seven years!"

Lynne eyed her with a smile. "You look like you know what you're doing. Is this your first half?"

Nora nodded, a little embarrassed. "I haven't signed up for it yet; I'm not sure I'll be able to run it by March."

Before either of them could respond, a chipper waitress with curly black hair bustled up to their table. "There's my finish liners! Light group tonight, huh?"

Lynne nodded. "Cassidy, this is Nora. She's new to the group."

The waitress beamed at Nora. "Welcome, sweetie. Hope I'll see you in here often with these fools."

Jerome just laughed. "You love us. I'll have a short stack of pancakes and a coke."

"And coffee, two creams, no sugar, right?" Cassidy looked at Lynne, who nodded. Then the waitress turned her attention to Nora, who'd been fiddling with her phone. "What about you, new girl?"

"Um," Nora glanced up, distracted. "Pancakes sound good."

Cassidy headed back to the counter without writing their orders down, and Nora picked up her phone. "Whoever called when we were back at the park left a message."

Lynne frowned. "It's a pretty odd time to call."

Nora hesitated, staring at her phone for a moment. "Do you guys mind if I step out for a sec?"

Jerome and Lynne both shook their heads. "I hope nothing's wrong," Jerome said as Nora stood up.

She nodded absentmindedly, but she already had her phone to her ear as she opened the door to the diner, and her dad's familiar voice had a twinge of panic to it, and Nora felt her heart clench as she played his message.

"Sweetie, call me as soon as you get this. It's your mom."

### CHAPTER EIGHT

That night, Kingston barely slept.

He went through his usual post-run wind down, complete with a long, hot shower to get his blood flowing again, but in all honesty, he didn't have any trouble getting his blood flowing that night. He'd barely noticed the cold for once; stretching out with Nora had provided a welcome distraction from the winter weather, and Kingston flushed when he remembered the feeling of her body under his hands.

"Get it together, boy," he muttered, plumping up his pillow and trying yet another position. "She's a run buddy, nothing more."

But his body clearly disagreed with him, and the more Kingston thought about her, the more turned on he found himself getting. Flipping onto his back, he closed his eyes, trying to dispel the vision his brain had conjured up of Nora in bed beside him. _Don't be a flake,_ he admonished himself, dragging his thoughts away from Nora and focusing on the barista he'd been mooning over. _How can you forget those big brown eyes?_ Sure, Nora was fine to look at, but he was pretty sure he was only obsessing over her because of their intimate cool down session. _Quit thinking with your balls, boy._

Drawing his thoughts firmly away from the runner, Kingston tried to recall the details of the other face that had filled his mind for days. _I wish I knew her name._ He focused on remembering every detail from the few times they'd met; the way her hair hung in loose waves around her face; the sweet, simple honesty that shone out of her gaze; the particular way her apron clung to her in all the right places. Kingston smiled, but his thoughts couldn't quite let go of Nora, and in his tired state just before he finally dropped off to sleep, Kingston decided that the runner sort of reminded him of the barista.

He woke up with a stiff neck, and when he rolled over to check the clock, he cursed softly. He'd slept way past his alarm, which he realized with a sinking heart he'd never set, and he sprang out of bed and started pulling on his clothes. There was only one clean suit hanging in his closet, and Kingston cursed himself again. "How did you forget to send out the dry cleaning this weekend? Get it together, boy." As his fingers hurriedly buttoned up his crisp blue shirt, he promised himself he'd stop mooning over the girl at the coffee shop. In fact, he decided, he wouldn't even go there for a week.

His resolve lasted until lunch time. No one had chastised him for his late arrival at the office, although Carrie had pouted angrily when he swept in, and Kingston had thrown himself into work that morning to make up for being tardy. But despite his best intentions, when he left the office at noon, his feet led him directly to the little coffee shop, and he scanned the space eagerly, hoping for a glimpse of her.

Another girl was behind the counter, and he vaguely remembered seeing her before when PB had been working. As he approached the register, inspiration struck, and he smiled down at the barista.

"How's it going today, hon?"

She grinned up at him. "Better now that you're here. You're becoming quite the regular."

Kingston paused. "You could say that," he said, his eyes drifting away from her face as he tried to catch a look at the back room behind the counter.

"So, what'll it be?"

Dragging his eyes back to her, he smiled. "Cup of coffee, to go. What's your name?"

Her eyes got wide, and her smile nearly broke her face. "Laurel. What's yours?"

"Kingston," he said, his gaze skimming over the girl and looking behind her once more. "Um, do you like working here?"

She leaned forward, and Kingston caught a flash of a hot pink bra strap, and he swallowed nervously. "It's okay, I guess." Her eyes traveled down his body before returning to his face. "You make it loads better."

Kingston took the cup of coffee she offered, trying not to let the barista's obvious interest distract him. "Do you, er, like your coworkers?"

She rolled her eyes. "Who wants to talk about them? I'd rather hear about you," she offered suggestively, leaning forward even more.

Kingston took a step back. "Nothing much to tell," he said, glancing behind the counter one last time before retreating to the door with a wave. Laurel looked annoyed, but he was too frustrated with himself to really notice.

Sipping his coffee as he walked, he shook his head ruefully. "That totally backfired," he grumbled to himself. "Now she probably thinks I'm interested in her!" With a sigh, he downed the rest of his coffee and headed back to work, promising himself that he'd do his best to forget the mysterious barista.

### CHAPTER NINE

Nora's hands were shaking as she punched in the number her dad had given her; neither of her parents had a cell phone, something which she'd teased them about mercilessly for years, but when a strange woman answered with the words, "Mercy Hospital," all thoughts of teasing fled.

"My dad called," she stammered. "His name is Richard Willson."

"Hang on a minute." Hold music filled the line, and Nora jiggled her leg nervously. A couple walking into the diner glanced at her before moving away quickly, and Nora slid down the building to a spot in the shadows.

"Peanut, is that you?" Her dad's voice was scratchy, almost as if he'd been crying, and Nora felt her whole body clench in fearful anticipation.

"Dad? What happened?"

"Your mom had a heart attack."

Nora stared at the dark city street, unseeing. "What?"

"She's still in the ICU, but I'm hoping she'll be better soon. The doctors are running some tests; we should know more in a few hours."

"But, Dad, how? Mom won't even touch fried food!"

She could practically hear his shrug over the phone. "Like I said, we don't know much right now. Can you come home?"

She paused, remembering suddenly that she was supposed to start her new job in a few hours. "I'll have to see."

"Peanut, I don't want to worry you," he stopped for a moment. "But the sooner the better," he finally said.

Nora's throat constricted. _It's that bad?_ "I'll catch the train into Philly first thing in the morning."

"I might not be able to drive out to pick you up."

Nora shook her head impatiently. "I'll figure something out." Her voice started to break, but she pushed the words out. "Dad? I love you. Tell Mom I love her, too."

"We love you, too."

Nora hung up the phone fighting back tears. "Damn it!" Her words were loud on the deserted street, but Nora didn't care. Her brain still couldn't quite grasp everything her dad had said, but it was having an even harder time sifting through what he _hadn't_ said. One thing was certain; if her dad was pushing her to come home immediately, her mom was probably worse off than he was letting on.

Quickly, Nora fired off a text to Todd letting him know that she'd had a family emergency, and then she poked her head inside the diner. Lynne looked up immediately and frowned in concern, but Nora didn't want to talk about it. "A family thing," she managed to say. "I'm sorry, but I've got to go."

"Of course! Let us know if you need anything." The words should have sounded empty coming from a near stranger, but Nora could tell that Lynne meant it.

"Thank you." She hesitated. "I might not be at the run for a few nights."

"Don't worry about that. We'll see you whenever you're able to come out."

Nora nodded, almost smiling. She wasn't really big on sharing the details of her personal life, but she had a feeling that if she kept up with the running group, she and Lynne could become friends.

Pushing that thought to the back of her mind, Nora hurried across town. When she got to her dark apartment, she hesitated for a moment. Part of her wanted to wake Carl up; she was feeling desperate for someone to talk to about the whole thing with her mom, but since she barely knew anything, she decided to let him sleep. _I can always call him from the train_ , she reasoned, tossing some clothes into her shoulder bag. She didn't bother checking online for tickets; trains ran every few hours from Grand Central to the 30th Street station in Philadelphia, and she knew she'd be able to catch one, even at such short notice.

After leaving a sticky note for Carl, Nora hailed a taxi a few blocks from their apartment, and the sun was just coming up when she made it to the train station. Instead of stopping to admire the beautiful architecture like she usually did, Nora pushed through the crowd to a ticket kiosk, and in moments, she had a ticket in hand for a train leaving in half an hour.

Settling back into her seat, Nora squeezed her eyes shut and tried to will herself not to worry. _Mom'll be fine_ , she promised herself. _Dad's just scared, that's all._ But even though her mind desperately wanted to believe the words, her heart wasn't so sure.

***

Nora's parents lived a little over an hour outside of Philadelphia, but Mercy Hospital was in the center of the city, so Nora didn't even bother contacting her dad for a ride. Shouldering her duffle bag, Nora dug out her bus pass from the back of her wallet and navigated her way to the hospital. Part of her hoped it would be a wasted trip, that she'd get there only to discover her mom had already been discharged and was waiting for her in the family's slightly run-down farmhouse. When she got to the tall, sterile building, Nora stood outside for a moment, staring up at the mirrored windows and trying to steel herself to go in and find out how her mom was doing.

She'd always hated hospitals, ever since her three-day stay to have her tonsils removed when she was seven, and she considered herself lucky that she hadn't had any close friends or family fall ill enough to require hospitalization...until now.

Taking a deep breath, Nora walked through the automatic doors. Despite how early it still was, the hospital was filled with nurses in scrubs moving quickly through the halls, and patients and their loved ones waiting and wondering. While Nora waited at the information desk, she glimpsed a couple of doctors hurrying in one direction or another, and her stomach clenched. Did one of them know what had happened to her mom? Maybe they were on the way to look at her test results right now. Maybe they were headed to a private room to give her father bad news.

"Yes?" A tired looking nurse in pink scrubs motioned to Nora.

Nora swallowed. "My mom had a heart attack. Is she—is she still here?"

"Name?"

"Nora Willson."

The nurse raised an eyebrow. "Your name, or the patient's?"

Nora flushed. "Sorry. Her name is Marjorie Willson."

Turning to a computer, the nurse hit a few keys, and Nora held her breath in tense silence. Finally, the nurse nodded. "Third floor, room 305. You know where you're going?"

Nora exhaled in relief. "I can find it."

Pointing over her shoulder, the nurse offered, "The elevators are back there. Next!"

Dismissed, Nora headed in the direction the nurse had indicated, but when she pushed the button on the elevator for the third floor, she noticed that her hand was shaking. _Get a grip,_ she told herself. _There's no reason to panic._

Feeling as if she were seven years old again, Nora stepped off the elevator and glanced nervously down a hallway that smelled like rubbing alcohol and sweat. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned left, breathing shallowly. When she reached the room her mom was in, Nora stood outside for a moment, slowly counting to one hundred in her mind. Her nerves weren't any better when she got through, but she drew a deep breath and realized that she had to quit stalling.

Pushing the door open silently, Nora crept into the dimly lit room. She glanced at the woman on the hospital bed in front of her and frowned; silver hair framed an unfamiliar sleeping face.

"Mom? Dad?" Nora called softly, wondering if she'd got the wrong room.

Her dad poked his head around the curtain dividing the room. "Through here, sweetie."

Tiptoeing past the other patient, Nora inhaled sharply when she saw her mom. She was propped up in the bed with tubing coming out of her arms and nose, and the woman in front of Nora looked pale, frail, and dangerously ill. She gripped her dad's hand for a minute before moving closer to the bed.

"Mom?" She leaned over her, and her mom's hazel eyes fluttered open.

"Hi, sweetie," she said, her usually strong voice a breathy whisper.

Nora swallowed. "How're you feeling?"

"I've been better." Her mom smiled ruefully. "How are you, peanut?"

"Fine," Nora said, feeling like she'd stepped into some surreal time warp. "I got a promotion at work," she offered, unsure of what to say. _What happened?_ She wanted to ask. _How did this happen to you? You're too healthy for heart issues._ But she didn't know how to say it, so instead she stood beside her mother's hospital bed feeling like an idiot and talking about her job.

"That's wonderful news, sweetie!" Her dad beamed at her. "Isn't that wonderful, Marjorie?"

Nora's mom's eyes flickered for a moment. "Wonderful," she echoed softly.

Nora found her courage. "Mom, what happened?"

"A heart attack," her mom sighed. "The doctors say it was pretty bad."

Nora's dad jumped in. "But you're doing great, Marjorie. They also said you should be going home soon."

Her mom shook her head and closed her eyes. "They said it was likely to happen again, Richard," she said, her voice regaining some of its old strength. She opened her eyes and looked at Nora. "They want me to have surgery."

Nora's chest constricted, but she forced a smile. "That's good, then, right? That means they can fix whatever's wrong."

Her mom shook her head. "I don't know," she said faintly, sinking back against the pillows. "I'm not sure."

"Nora, why don't you come with me down to the cafeteria? Your mother needs to rest, and you and I can grab some breakfast and chat." Her dad steered her toward the door of the room, but Nora paused at the curtain and glanced back for a moment at her mother. She was already asleep, her chest rising and falling quickly with each breath. Nora's eyes flickered to the wall of monitors that were plugged into her mom, and she felt a sliver of ice run down her back.

As soon as they were in the hallway, she looked at her dad. "What was that all about?"

"She's fine," he insisted, not meeting her eyes. "Just scared is all."

"Daddy, I'm scared, too. Was it really a bad one?"

He led the way back to the elevators. "The doctors said surgery will fix her right up."

"You didn't answer my question."

He leaned against the elevator wall and rubbed his hand across his eyes. "Jesus, Nora. It was a heart attack. No matter how bad it was, isn't that bad enough?" His voice broke on the last word, and Nora shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said instantly, choking up on the words. "I'm just scared."

The elevator doors opened as her father met her eyes. "I'm scared, too, peanut."

That admission was harder for Nora to hear than even her mother's labored breathing. She followed her dad into the hospital cafeteria in silence, trying to sift through her tattered emotions. She didn't pay attention to what her dad ordered, and soon she was sitting down on a hard plastic bench, staring at a tray of food she had no desire to eat.

Her dad didn't seem to be suffering from the same lack of appetite; he ate quickly, without stopping to talk, his eyes fixed on the food as he cleared most of his tray in minutes, and then he stood up to get more coffee. Nora stared off into space, barely aware that her dad had left the table. When he sat back down, he leaned forward and looked at his daughter.

"I'm sorry, peanut. This is just all too much."

She nodded. "So...about the surgery..."

Her dad added another creamer to his coffee. "It's a bypass. Basically, the doctors want to replace one of the valves in her heart."

Nora shuddered. "Would it help?"

"It might." He paused, his eyes drifting around the room before come to rest on Nora. "But then again, there's no predicting if a surgery like that would keep her from having another heart attack someday down the road."

His frank answer startled Nora. "Another one?"

Her dad shrugged and stirred his coffee absently. "Now that she's had one, it's more likely that it will happen again." His eyes glistened, and he reached across the table to squeeze Nora's hand. "I'm not ready to lose her, baby girl."

Nora choked up. "Me, neither, daddy."

### CHAPTER TEN

Kingston didn't have time to dwell on the barista too much that week; when he got home from work on Tuesday, he tripped over a pair of beige leather pumps. He glanced at the shoes, confused for a moment, and then he looked up.

"Mom," he said, swallowing nervously. "And Sir. What are you both doing here?"

His mother crossed the small space to kiss him on each cheek. "We wanted to surprise you."

"It's certainly a surprise," Kingston admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "How'd you get in?"

"Oh, your doorman was ever so kind once he learned we were your folks."

Kingston smiled. His mother could charm a snake right out of its skin, and he had no doubt that the poor doorman hadn't stood a chance. "I wish you'd have let me know you were coming; I'd have tidied the place up a bit."

"Yes, this place," his father said, moving into the kitchenette with a frown. "Beautiful location. How much are you paying in rent each month, son?"

"The bank supplied the apartment." The lie slipped out before he could think, and Kingston held his breath, hoping his face didn't give him away.

"Humph," his father answered. "I should hope so. Didn't think I raised my boy to be frivolous or wasteful."

Kingston shook his head hurriedly. "No, sir." He glanced at the refrigerator. "I don't have much to offer—"

"Let's go out, then," his mother said, looping her arm through his as she slipped on her shoes. "Take us somewhere that's part of the real New York."

Kingston chuckled. "I haven't been here long enough to discover the 'real New York', but I'm sure we can figure something out."

Before he could open the door, his father strode across the room and put his hand on the knob. "After you, sweetheart," he said, nodding to Kingston's mother. As she slipped into the hall, his dad put his hand on Kingston's shoulder, stopping him for a minute.

"You're doing well for yourself, son. I'm glad that bank realizes what you're worth."

He forced himself to nod. "They do, sir."

"Good." His dad nodded to the hall, and Kingston followed his mom, his heart racing. Would his father still be proud of him if he knew that Kingston spent every day in a cubicle, not an office, or would he think he wasn't working hard enough somehow? Kingston shook his head, hoping that his parents wouldn't ask him too many questions about work. Even though the job _had_ been a promotion, his father hadn't been impressed when Kingston had initially shared the news. Now that his parents were in New York, he felt a childish desire to make believe his new life was even better than he'd imagined, but he wasn't sure how long he could keep spinning stories to keep them satisfied.

Luckily, once they'd been seated in a dark corner of the steak house near his apartment, Kingston realized that his mom at least wasn't interested in hearing him talk about work. In true form, she was on his case within minutes about his lack of a social life.

"How are you ever going to meet a nice girl if all you do is work?" She lamented, picking daintily at her salad.

Kingston sighed. He was tempted to tell her about Carrie's obvious interest in him, just to get her off his case, but he knew from experience that if he mentioned a girl to his mom, he'd better be ready to propose within weeks. "I don't just work, Mom. I'm still running."

She sniffed. "You aren't going to meet a nice girl that way."

"I've joined another midnight running club," he said, splitting his attention between both his parents. "It's a lot of fun." Tearing off a piece of bread from the bread basket in the center of the table, he added, "I'm training to run the half marathon in the spring."

His father nodded approvingly. "It's important to keep your body as strong as your mind."

"But darlin'," his mother said, "I want grandbabies soon!"

Kingston sighed. "You've got Blake and Shelton," he reminded her gently. "Have you seen them recently?"

His mother sighed. "Rachel said she'd bring them over next week." Chewing on the bottom of her lip, she lowered her voice. "I wish she and Mark would figure out this nasty separation business."

Kingston's father took a swig of his gin and tonic. "I've tried to talk with her about it, but she's like a bank vault." He raised an eyebrow at his son. "Has she confided in you?"

He shook his head, thinking back to the conversation he'd had with his sister earlier that week. "No. I wish I knew what to say or do that would help her."

"Don't rush into marriage," his father said, leaning forward to look at him intently. "No matter what your mother may say, son, that's not a commitment you should take lightly."

His mother pouted. "But Kingston's got a good head on his shoulders. I'm sure he wouldn't make the same mistakes as Rachel."

Kingston wasn't so sure that Rachel had made a mistake; he wondered if she and Mark had simply fallen out of love. Given how many of his friends were divorced, he doubted that they'd all "rushed in" as his father put it. But all he said was, "Don't worry. I'm not thinking about getting married anytime soon. Besides," he offered with a gentle laugh, "I'd have to meet someone first."

His mother eyed him intently. "I wish you'd let me introduce you to—"

"No, Mom," Kingston said firmly. "No set ups. I can find my own girl, thank you very much."

"But you haven't," she pointed out reasonably.

"But I will," Kingston said, his thoughts drifting to a pair of wide brown eyes that made his heart race.

### CHAPTER ELEVEN

That night, alone in her old bed in her parents' farmhouse, Nora tossed and turned for hours. When sleep finally overcame her, she was swept into a dream about Kingston.

Pebbles hit her window, calling her to lift the sash, and sleepily, Nora swung her feet out of bed and crossed the floor. When she looked down into the moonlit yard, his familiar smile beamed up at her.

Her heart started to beat faster. "What are you doing here?" She whispered, leaning over the sill.

"I'm here for you, hon," came the soft reply.

Nora swallowed. "How are you going to get up here? My parents--" She paused. There was something about her parents that she was struggling to remember, but it danced at the corner of her memory, just out of reach. "I don't—" she tried again.

The words had barely left her mouth when she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder, and Nora exhaled sharply. Kingston chuckled, turning her to face him. "You were saying?" His eyes were alight with expectation, and Nora felt her body begin to tingle in response to his intense gaze. He tipped her chin toward his and leaned forward, pausing an inch away from kissing her. His breath was hot on her skin, and Nora tried not to shiver at the delightful sensation. Kingston's mouth curved into a slow, sure smile, and he inched a little closer.

Nora licked her lips, her heart racing. She'd fantasized about sneaking a guy up to her bedroom when she was in high school, but the couple of boys she'd seriously dated had been just as polite and well-behaved as Nora, and no one ever made her act on her fantasy. _Until now_ , she thought, studying Kingston's lips hovering close to her face.

Tentatively, Nora closed the distance, bringing her lips against his with a gentle sigh. The kiss was long and deep, and Nora felt the soles of her feet begin to dissolve into the floor.

Kingston's lips were thick and smooth, and with each kiss, Nora melted a little bit more. He murmured her name against her mouth, and heat flooded Nora's body as she reached for him, tangling her fingers in his hair. Gently, he ran his hand along her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder, stroking her skin in smooth, sure movements.

Nora shivered and pressed her body against his, beyond caring that her thin night shirt offered little in the way of a barrier between them. Somehow, his shirt was already off, and Nora's hands slowly began to trace the thick muscles across his shoulders. His arms tightened around her hungrily, and Kingston trailed his lips down her jaw before coming to rest at the hollow of her throat. A low moan escaped Nora as his tongue flicked delicately against her skin.

Just when she thought her knees were about to give out, Kingston lifted her up and in one swift motion deposited her on the old twin bed. Gently, he pressed his lean body beside her, and Nora slid over to accommodate him, her heart racing. She tried to deny the knot of longing that had formed in her stomach, but every inch of her being was acutely aware of his flesh against hers.

Never taking his eyes from her face, Kingston slid one of his hands deliberately up her leg, the fingertips skimming over her bare skin like water. Nora's breath caught as his hand slipped under the hem of her nightshirt, and gently, he started to stroke her inner thigh. A shudder passed through her, and Kingston exhaled loudly in response, stroking faster. His other hand cradled her head gently, and Nora leaned back, arching into Kingston's touch. She felt as fragile as glass, as if one more touch could shatter her.

The tips of his fingers brushed against her, asking permission, and Nora wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down on top of her. His weight shifted gently against her, his hands still tracing lines of fire across her body, and desperate need welled up in her. Nora opened her eyes and studied his face; the perfect line of his jaw, the generous, wide mouth, before coming to rest on his steady gray gaze. Her hands started to move of their own accord, stroking down the length of his spine before coming to rest at the elastic of his briefs. Slowly, cautiously, Nora slid her fingers under the waistband, and Kingston ground his hips into her in response.

Need overwhelmed her, and Nora pressed her body against Kingston's solid weight. Everything about it felt right, and Nora's shyness slipped away in a tangle of sweaty flesh. The blood was pounding in Nora's ears as she wriggled her hips, trying to slip out of her panties, but the pounding only increased. Startled, Nora realized that someone was knocking on the bedroom door, and her eyes flew open in panic.

Sunlight streamed through the yellow curtains, and Nora was alone in her bed. Sweaty and disoriented, she glanced around, wondering what had happened to Kingston, but then her dad's voice broke through her fog.

"I've made pancakes if you're awake, peanut. Visiting hours start in a bit, and I want to get back there as soon as we can."

_Mom_. Nora's face heated with shame as she croaked, "I'll be right down."

Her dad's footsteps receded, and Nora buried her head under the pillow. _What kind of sick person has a hot and heavy dream while her mom is laying in a hospital bed?_ Hurriedly, Nora stripped off her sweaty nightshirt, grabbed a towel, and ran across the hall to take a shower. _But it felt so real_ , she thought, replaying the dream in her mind before shaking her head firmly. Now wasn't the time for her to fixate on adolescent fantasies, no matter how gorgeous Kingston was; every fiber of her being needed to be focused on being present for her parents, especially her mom. Nora toweled off deliberately, promising herself that she wouldn't think about Kingston anymore while she was at home.

***

Nora's mother was discharged a day later, with a date scheduled for the bypass surgery in a few weeks, and even though Nora's impulse was to stay home with her parents, her mom insisted that she go back to New York.

"You can't spend all your time here, Nora," she'd urged. "That promotion won't wait forever."

Nora knew she was right; she'd talked to Todd the first day she was in Pennsylvania, and while he'd said he understood, Nora could tell he wasn't thrilled to have to postpone her training. Still, Nora worried about her mom the entire train ride back to the city, and she even skimmed the job postings she could find online for work near her parents' town. There wasn't anything that jumped out at her, not even any coffee shop or fast food positions, and Nora resolved that at the very least, she would make an effort to call home every day, no matter how crazy her new schedule was. _And I'll ask Todd if I can take the time off to be there for the surgery_ , she told herself.

Carl was waiting for her in the living room, and he'd pulled her into a tight hug before she was even halfway through the door.

She forced a laugh. "Nice to see you, too."

He pulled back, studying her face. "She's fine, right?"

Nora shrugged. "She has surgery later this month. After that, I guess we'll see."

Carl shook his head. "She's fine," he insisted, "and so are you."

This time, her laugh was genuine, but halfway out of her mouth, it shifted into a sob, and she buried her face against Carl's shoulder. "I don't know what to do," she whispered through her tears.

"Nothing you can do. She'll be fine," he repeated, "don't worry."

Trying to get a grip on herself, Nora nodded. "Thank you."

"Of course! I'm just sorry you didn't wake me before you left; I'd have come with you."

Nora looked at him in surprise. "Really?"

Carl rolled his eyes. "I practically grew up at your house, Nora. Of course I love your folks."

She'd never heard him say anything like that, and it touched her. Afraid she might start crying again, Nora broke off the hug and set her bag down. "They'd be happy to hear that," she said, kneeling down to sift through her bag so she didn't have to look at him.

Carl rubbed her shoulders. "You're family, Nor, whether you like it or not."

***

Once she told Todd she was back, he insisted that she begin her training the next day. "I already had you on the schedule for split shifts all week," he told her over the phone. "No need to change that now, right?"

Secretly, Nora had hoped he'd give her another day or two off, since her emotions were still a bit of a wreck, but she forced a smile into her voice and said, "Nope! I'll be there first thing tomorrow."

She skipped her run that night, but it didn't matter; she was too keyed up to sleep. When she got to Books and Brew at four-thirty in the morning, Todd was just unlocking the front door.

"Welcome back!" He held the door open for her, and then locked it again once they were both inside. "Don't want anyone wandering in," he said in answer to her questioning stare. "No one reads the posted hours."

Nora nodded, pushing away her worries about her mom and trying to focus on what Todd was saying. "Has that happened before?"

"All the time." Todd flicked on the light switch near the door. "Make sure you lock up once you start opening alone, but don't forget to unlock the door and switch on the open sign at five."

"Check." Nora followed him into the back, where he showed her how to count down the cash drawer before the start of business. "That's one of the reasons the same manager always works open and close," he told her. "So that he's the only one counting down the drawer that day."

Nora nodded, watching as he slid the drawer into the register and turned the key that secured it in place. "It must have been exhausting for you, managing without an assistant."

Todd tugged on his silver mustache. "I've done it before, and once you move on, I'm sure I'll do it again. Although," he added with a smile, "I am looking forward to taking some time off now!"

"What else do I need to do?"

Todd glanced at his watch. "Plenty, but we need to get open. I'll stick around this shift, and I'll be back for closing, too, but maybe tomorrow or the next day, if you're ready, you'll open on your own."

Nora swallowed nervously. "If you think I'm ready."

"You will be. We just have to go over stocking and scheduling, and hopefully we can catch that if there's a lull today." Todd handed her a key. "That's yours; don't lose it."

Nora couldn't help herself; she broke into a wide grin. "I get a key?"

"What'd you think, I'd be here to open the door every day?" Todd laughed. "Speaking of, why don't you go turn on the sign and open up?"

Nora nodded, a tight knot of excitement building in her stomach. She crossed to the window and flicked on the neon sign, and then she turned to the front door. Laurel was standing on the other side of the glass, and she stared at Nora in surprise. Feeling her excitement threaten to shift into fear, Nora took a deep breath and opened the door.

"What the hell are you doing here this early?" Laurel asked as she breezed inside.

Nora squared her shoulders. "I'm the new assistant manager."

Laurel barked a laugh. "You've got to be joking," she said. When Nora didn't respond, she narrowed her eyes. "You _are_ joking, right?"

Nora shook her head. "Nope. I started today."

Laurel crossed the room and grabbed her apron off a hook on the counter. "Like hell I'm taking orders from you."

Nora's stomach clenched, but before she could figure out how to respond, Todd poked his head around the corner from the back. "Like hell you aren't, Laurel; is there an issue?"

Laurel shot an inscrutable look at Nora and then turned to Todd and smiled. "Not at all," she said, her voice sickly sweet. "I was just surprised is all."

Todd nodded. "Good. I don't want to hear from Nora that you're causing any problems, understood?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," she said. When Todd had gone back into the back, Laurel glared at Nora. "Just like you wouldn't dream of making up stories about me, right?"

"I'd never do that," Nora stammered.

Laurel smiled slowly. "Good. Just so long as we're clear."

Nora wasn't entirely sure what Laurel meant, but she didn't want to push it. The morning was already off to a tense start. _And besides_ , she told herself, _Laurel's not going to do anything stupid._

Still, Nora was nervous, and she went out of her way to be even nicer to Laurel than usual. That wasn't too difficult; they were slammed, so there wasn't a lot of time for the two of them to interact. Nora worked the register for most of the morning while Laurel made the drinks, only stopping when there was a lull for Todd to walk her through more of her managerial duties. There was way more to the job than he'd initially let on, and when Nora finally left at noon, her head was spinning.

She thought about going for a run in the middle of the day, but instead, she headed home and took a nap on the couch. Nora had to be back for the rest of her shift at five that evening, and between a sleepless night worrying about both the new job and her mom, she slept deeply. Carl got home at four and prodded her awake, which was a good thing, since Nora had forgotten to set an alarm. She grabbed an apple as she headed back downtown, crossing her fingers that the evening would go well.

Laurel wasn't on shift anymore when Nora got to the café, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Frank, the guy she was closing with, didn't work that often, so Nora didn't know him very well, but he was quiet and fairly nice, and by the time she and Todd locked up, she was almost feeling confident.

"You did a good job today," Todd offered before he left. "Ready to try it alone tomorrow?"

Nora swallowed, but she said "Sure!"

Todd patted her shoulder. "That's my girl. I knew you'd be a natural at this."

Nora wasn't so sure, but she didn't want to contradict him. Besides, it hadn't been that bad. _What could possibly go wrong without Todd?_

Plenty, it turned out.

First, her key got stuck in the lock when she got there to open up, and she didn't get inside for fifteen minutes. By the time Laurel sauntered in an hour after the store opened, Nora was covered in espresso, the floor behind the counter was slick with melted ice, and a line of angry customers stretched to the door.

"Weren't you scheduled to open?" Nora asked, catching herself narrowly from wiping out on the floor as she turned from the counter back to the register.

Laurel shrugged. "I figured you could handle it. Besides," she added lowering her voice as she tied her apron on, "what are you going to about it?"

Nora gaped at her for a moment. Was Laurel seriously testing her like this? "Nothing, right now. Can you grab register and I'll keep making the drinks?"

Laurel looked like she wanted to argue, but finally she shrugged and dropped it.

Nora quietly fumed as she made the drinks, wondering why Laurel had decided to act like such a bitch. _She's always been that way_ , Nora realized. _Ever since my first day here._ She'd never known why, and she'd always been too shy to ask. But now that Nora was assistant manager, she didn't want to put up with it any more.

Laurel's laugh cut through Nora's thoughts, and she glanced back at the register. Her heart almost stopped when she saw Kingston standing there looking at Laurel with a wide smile on his face. Nora hadn't been back to the running group since the steamy cool down and even hotter dream, and her palms started to sweat seeing him again. Would he recognize her now? _And do I even want him to?_

When Laurel called his order over her shoulder, Nora busied herself with the espresso machine, trying not to notice the way Laurel was flirting with the handsome Texan. The girl was practically laying on the register, thrusting her chest toward him like some ridiculous bird performing a mating dance, and Nora bit her lip. _Surely he isn't the kind of guy who wanted a girl to throw herself at him, is he?_

Finally, another customer coughed loudly, and Kingston gave the man an apologetic smile before moving down the counter. Nora smiled at him when she handed him his drink, but her hand was shaking.

Kingston grinned down at her. "Thanks, hon! Haven't seen you for a few days."

_Does he mean here at the shop, or running?_ "New shift," she finally said, playing it safe. "I got promoted to assistant manager."

His perfect smile stretched even wider. "That's wonderful! Congratulations!"

She beamed at him. "Thank you. It's only my second day," she admitted, "and I've got a lot to learn."

He waved his hand. "You look like you're doing a mighty fine job to me."

Laurel called down the next order, and Nora wished for a moment that she could freeze time and just stand there smiling at Kingston, watching him smile at her. "Thanks," she offered, pushing her glasses up her nose. "I'm trying."

He winked. "Keep it up, hon." With a wave, he headed back out into the city, and Nora stared after him for a moment, watching his broad shoulders. When Laurel called down the same order again, with an edge to her voice this time, Nora gave herself a mental shake and got back to work, but her brain kept turning their encounter over and over. Did he realize she was in the running group? He'd seemed happy to see her, almost like he knew her, but maybe that was just the way he was with everybody. Nora worried it to death, and by the time she went off shift, she'd pretty much forgotten about Laurel's power play that morning, but she was no closer to an answer about Kingston than she had been when she'd been at work. _There's only one way to tell,_ she mused. _No matter how tired I am, I better lace up my running shoes tonight!_

_  
_

### CHAPTER TWELVE

Kingston's heart had started beating fast when he spotted a familiar face behind the counter on his coffee break. He'd mostly been able to keep his thoughts away from her while his parents were in town, mainly because he'd spent his lunch hours with them, catching little glimpses of the city. They'd taken a taxi to the airport that morning, so Kingston had reverted to his old habits, half expecting the illusive barista to still be gone. He'd been pleasantly surprised when he saw her, and he thought she'd seemed happy to see him, too.

He'd been too fixated on seeing her again to realize that he'd forgotten to ask her name until he was three blocks away, and he cursed out loud in frustration. "You can't even remember this one simple thing; how are you ever going to get up the nerve to ask her out?" A few people on the sidewalk gave him the side eye, and he shook himself, wishing he hadn't spoken out loud. Rounding a corner, he considered going back to the coffee shop and asking her once and for all, but just as he made up his mind to do it, his phone rang insistently in his pocket. Even though he'd seen people hurrying along the sidewalks with their phones pressed to their ears, he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. _Too old fashioned to multi-task,_ he thought with a smile as he spotted a metal bench just up the street. Answering the phone, he strode to it rapidly.

"Uncle King?" A small voice asked.

Kingston sat down, looking at the phone in surprise. "Yes. What's up, kiddo?"

"It's Shell." The little boy cleared his throat. "How are you?"

"I'm okay, but Shell, buddy, aren't you supposed to be in school right now?" At seven, Shelton was the older of his two nephews, and he'd been proud to tell Kingston all about first grade when he'd seen the boys over Christmas.

"I stayed home sick," the boy said, "but I'm not really sick."

"Uh-huh. What's wrong, then?"

There was silence on the line, and then Shelton sighed. "Are Mama and Daddy getting a divorce?"

Kingston raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you ask them that, buddy?"

"I don't want to make Mama cry."

Kingston's heart clenched. "Has your mom been crying?"

"Yes. She's in the bathroom right now, and I heard her through the door. That's why I called you."

Kingston glanced at the caller I.D. on his phone and realized his nephew had swiped Rachel's phone to call him. "I can't really do anything, buddy. I'm in New York now, remember?"

"Can't you come home, just for a visit?"

Kingston looked around the busy street. "I wish I could," he admitted, "but I've got a job to do here."

"Oh." His nephew was silent. "Will you tell Mama and Daddy not to fight anymore?"

"Let me talk to your mom, okay, buddy?" Kingston wheedled, hoping his nephew wasn't feeling defiant.

He wasn't. "Okay." There was a shuffling sound, and then Rachel's surprised voice came on the line.

"You don't usually call during daylight hours; you okay?"

Kingston leaned his head back against the bench. "I didn't call. Shelton called me."

"What? Shelton Stevenson, you've got some explaining to do!" She hollered, and Kingston cringed.

"Not his fault, Raye. The boy's upset about you and Mark."

She sighed. "I'm upset, too." There was a pause. "King, I think he wants a divorce."

Despite what his nephew had said, the truth shocked Kingston. "Has he said as much?"

"No," she said, drawing out the word, "but Marcy saw him out last night with a leggy redhead." Her voice caught. "That doesn't sound like he's honoring his marital vows to me."

Kingston shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said, not sure what else he could offer.

"Yeah. Lots of sorry going around right now, and it doesn't do anybody any good. What did Shelton say to you?"

"He asked if you were getting a divorce," Kingston told her, and then he added, "and he said you've been crying."

He heard her swallow a sob. "Well, he's observant, I'll give him that."

Remembering his nephew's request, Kingston asked, "Would it help if I came home?"

"What good is that going to do? You can't save my marriage," she said softly.

"No, but do you need any help with the boys? You know I love spending time with them."

Her voice softened. "I know. But I've got it under control. Besides, Mom and Dad are here if we need anything." Changing the subject abruptly, she said, "and the job has daycare."

"You got it? Raye, that's wonderful!"

Her voice almost sounded normal again. "I start in two weeks. It'll be a change, but good Lord, I'm ready for something different."

"I'll take you out to celebrate the next time I'm in town," he offered, beaming. "I'm proud of you, sweetie."

"Thanks, King. That means a lot." Her voice was thick with emotion, and Kingston tried to play it off.

"I'm sure you don't sit around waiting for approval from your baby brother," he teased lightly.

She gave a weak laugh. "No, fair enough. But still, thanks."

"Welcome. Tell the boys they can call me any time they want to talk, and I promise I'll answer."

"Any time _after_ they ask permission to use my phone," she said, raising her voice at the end. Kingston grinned, picturing Shelton hiding around the corner listening to her.

After they said goodbye, Kingston stared at the street for a few minutes, his eyes unseeing. _Divorce_ , he thought, rolling the word around in his mind. _Doesn't Mark realize how lucky he is?_

He didn't know what had gone wrong in his sister's marriage, but the very idea of Raye getting divorced shook him more than he cared to admit. Rachel had always said she'd fallen in love with Mark at first sight, and the couple had seemed happy to Kingston. In fact, they had almost seemed like they had the ideal relationship, from the outside, at least, and hopeless romantic that he was, Kingston had always assumed that whenever he fell in love, it would be a fairy tale kind of thing, just like his sister. _But now it sounds like the fairy tale is ending_ , he thought grimly. _And who's to say it was ever really there in the first place?_

Subdued, he walked back to the office, trying to think of a way to help his nephews and his sister through the rough transition that was headed for them.

### CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Even though she was dead tired, before Nora closed up the coffee shop that night, she tossed back a double espresso, and just before midnight, she headed down to Central Park.

Jerome waved at her when she got there, and Lynne came over to greet her. "Is everything okay with your family?"

Nora nodded. "My mom had a heart attack, but she's okay." She hoped that if she said it enough, she'd convince herself it was true. "She's having surgery soon."

Lynne gave her a quick hug. "I'm glad everything's okay, but man, how scary."

Nora's gut clenched, and she just nodded. "Still," she said, trying to sound chipper, "I'm glad to be back."

"We're glad to have you! Just in time, too; we're ready to start."

Her eyes skimmed the group, but she didn't see the tall frame she'd been looking for. "Are we—are we all here?"

Lynne shrugged. "There were a couple of maybes tonight, so I'm guessing they just aren't coming."

Nora's heart sank, but she tried not to focus on the lack of Kingston's presence as they began to warm up. As had started to be her habit, she was running toward the back of the group, and it wasn't long before her muscles were complaining from lack of use. Slowing her pace, Nora dropped back a little farther, still in sight of the group but no longer running beside anyone. _I really shouldn't have let so many days go by without a run_ , she thought, concentrating on her breathing.

Footsteps sounded behind her, and Nora automatically moved over to the right side of the trail to let whoever it was jog by, but no one passed her. Glancing up, she almost tripped on her sneakers when she saw that Kingston had fallen into step beside her. He caught her eye and grinned.

"Late start," he said, his breath even and unhurried.

She smiled and nodded, but she didn't try to talk. Her heart was beating erratically, and she was pretty sure it wasn't just the exertion from the run. Nora kept waiting for Kingston to pull ahead and run with the front of the group like he usually did, and she was surprised when he kept pace with her for the entire run. She was acutely aware of the sound of his breathing, and her skin prickled from his proximity, making it nearly impossible for her to concentrate. Between the cramp that had started in her left foot and Kingston's warm presence, Nora had what was probably the least focused run of her life, but by the time it was over, she didn't care about the wasted training session.

Smiling up at Kingston as they started stretching out on the grass beside each other, she decided to figure out once and for all if he'd recognized her earlier that day. "It's good to see you," she began, pulling on the top of her foot and folding it toward her tailbone.

He nodded. "We've missed you these last few days, hon."

So maybe he hadn't recognized her. Nora wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. "My mom had some health troubles, so I went home for a bit."

"Where's home?" He asked, sitting down on the ground and reaching effortlessly for the soles of his shoes.

"Outside Philadelphia. And you're from Texas, right?" She already knew that, from the first time she'd seen him at the coffee shop, but she wanted to test him and see if he really hadn't recognized her there.

"Yup," he smiled. "born and bred with a Stetson on my head!"

She laughed. "So what brought you to New York? A relationship?" It had sure seemed like he was dating that girl she'd seen him with the first time they met, but she wanted to be sure.

"Nope. Work. I had a chance to transfer, and I've always wanted to see what the fuss was all about, so I picked Manhattan." He paused. "And I'm glad I did, because there actually is somebody."

_I knew it_. Nora's heart sank, and she pulled her arm across her chest in a stretch, grateful that the shadows hid her expression. "Oh? Um, what's her name?"

Kingston laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Funny thing is I don't actually know."

"Excuse me?"

"There _is_ a girl I'd like to know better, but I haven't found out her name yet."

_Had he had some random hookup?_ Nora didn't think he was the type, but then again, she realized that all she really knew about Kingston was being close to him made her hyper aware of her entire body in a way she'd never really experienced. "Do I even want to know?"

"It'll probably sound stupid." He sounded almost embarrassed, and even though Nora really didn't want to hear about his mystery girl, she was also decidedly curious.

"Try me," she finally offered, studying him carefully in the shadows.

"Well," he said, "there's this little coffee place I go to sometimes."

He didn't see Nora's startled reaction, and he kept talking.

"There's a girl there who really sparked my interest, but I'm not sure if I should say anything. I'll bet she gets hit on by all kinds of creepy customers, and I don't want to be another one of those guys."

Nora's breath came a little faster as she asked, "What does she look like?" _God, don't let it be Laurel. If he's fallen in love with Laurel, I don't think I could stand it._

He stooped down to tighten his shoelaces. "You'll probably think I'm a loon, but you sort of remind me of her."

Nora's heart skipped a beat before accelerating frantically. She tried to keep her voice neutral. "Really?"

Kingston nodded. "'Cept she wears glasses," he said.

_Oh my god._ A slow smile spread across Nora's face in the darkness. _I think he means me!_ Just as she started to open her mouth, Kingston's next words made her pause.

"She's almost too pretty for words."

_He can't possibly mean me_ , she thought, frantically sifting through the other employees at the coffee shop, trying to remember who else wore glasses. Caity sometimes wore a funky black horn-rimmed pair, without lenses, but Nora wasn't sure if he'd ever been there when Caity was working. _Unless I haven't been there,_ she realized. Finally, she noticed Kingston staring at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something. Nora forced herself to smile. "Well, if you want my opinion, you should talk to her. I wouldn't say no if you asked me out," she added lightly, trying to ignore the way her heart clenched at the words.

Kingston held out his hand to help her off the ground, and when his strong fingers wrapped around hers, Nora's arm tingled with awareness. He let go too fast, though, and she tried to mask her disappointment. "Thanks, hon," he offered, giving her a wide smile. "That helps a man's confidence a bit!"

Before she could say anything else, another one of the runners gestured to Kingston, and with a quick wave, he left Nora standing there beside the path, feeling like her heart had been turned into a ping-pong ball. She watched as he jogged over to the friend who'd summoned him, and then she shook her head with a sigh.

"You shouldn't have gotten your hopes up," she whispered into the darkness. "You knew he couldn't be talking about you."

### CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Kingston was running late; he'd stayed at the office past ten, and he'd barely managed to grab a bite to eat before it was time to head over to the park. For a moment, he considered skipping the run, but he was tense and wound up, and he knew the only thing that would do him any good was slipping on his shoes and pounding the pavement. When he got to the park, however, he realized he was a few minutes late, and he started jogging the usual route, hoping he'd catch up with everybody.

He hadn't seen either Nora or PB in a few days, and even though he tried to tell himself to focus on just one girl, his heart jumped into his throat when he spotted Nora's ponytail bobbing near the back of the group. He pulled up alongside her and gave her a smile, and the grin that spread across her face was a warmer welcome than he'd expected.

Although he loved running with a group, he usually tuned out the other runners around him, letting the collective energy help propel him along when he got tired without stopping to notice the sounds of his running buddies. But for some reason, Kingston was acutely aware of Nora that night. He tuned into her without even trying, noticing that her breathing was a little uneven. For a moment, he considered slowing his pace in case she was trying to match his long strides, but then he realized that would look like he was more focused on her than on the run, and he didn't want her to think that.

Even if it's the truth.

As they ran, his thoughts swirled around, and he tried to make sense of the strange double attraction he was feeling. With PB, it had been an instant jolt; the moment she looked up at him with those big brown eyes, apologizing for jabbing him with her mop, he was a goner. But with Nora, his attraction had started slower; he wasn't even sure what color her eyes were, since he'd only ever seen her in the darkness. But still, he felt an undeniable pull to her every time he saw her, and running beside her was just making that feeling stronger. _It's probably just because she reminds me of PB_ , he told himself as they finished the final lap of their run and started to cool down.

Still, he couldn't deny that there was something comfortable about her that made it easy to be himself. He wasn't naturally shy, but he'd never really known how to talk to women when he was interested in them. For some reason, he didn't seem to have any problem with Nora. _Now if only I were brave enough to talk to PB!_

"Where're you from, hon?" He asked Nora as they stretched out.

"Near Philadelphia," she told him, bending effortlessly toward her extended foot. "What about you? Texas, right?"

He grinned. "Born and bred with a Stetson on my head!" The words sounded corny, and he winced, but her giggle set him at ease again.

"You don't look like a cowboy," she commented, sizing him up.

He pretended to be offended. "What, cowboys can't wear running tights?"

Was he imagining it, or did her gaze linger on his legs a moment longer than necessary? Feeling an initial stirring of desire, he shifted uncomfortably and tried to keep his mind on stretching out his tired muscles. He was so distracted he almost missed what she said, but then he realized she'd asked if he had a girlfriend.

_Should I tell her?_ He debated for a moment. He wasn't always sure how to talk to women, but growing up with Raye _had_ taught him one thing; if he told Nora he was interested in somebody else, he might as well say goodbye to the glimmers of attraction he'd been feeling around her; no girl wanted to be somebody's second choice. But as charming as Nora was, he wasn't ready to give up on the fantasy of PB yet.

Taking he deep breath, he said, "Actually, there is somebody."

As soon as the words were out, his stomach clenched, and Kingston wondered if he'd made the wrong choice, but he pressed on, oblivious of the effect his words had on Nora.

She laughed when he said she reminded him of PB, and her next words gave him a surge of confidence. "If it were me, I'd date you," she said with a smile.

For a moment, Kingston considered forgetting all about PB and going for the beautiful girl sitting on the ground in front of him, and time froze while he pondered on the best way to tell her. But just as he was about to open his mouth, he thought of his sister and her boys, and he clicked his teeth shut. _Sometimes,_ he told himself, _a fantasy is safer than going after something in reality._

As he waved goodnight to Nora, his heart was heavy because he'd realized that no matter how attracted he was to either woman, he wasn't likely to make a move. He hadn't known that the mess with Rachel and Mark was holding him back, but as he turned the key and entered his empty apartment, he realized that he wasn't so sure he believed in fairy tales anymore.

### CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Nora didn't get any sleep after her disappointing conversation with Kingston, and her eyes were bloodshot when she got to Books and Brew the next morning. Luckily, she wasn't opening with Laurel, so there wasn't any added drama at the coffee shop, but when she checked the schedule, she realized with a sigh that Laurel would be there when she came back on for the second half of her shift. _Maybe I can talk to Todd about switching the schedule,_ she thought hopefully. _After all, he did say scheduling would be one of my new duties._

The store hit an unusual lull around ten that morning, and Nora took advantage of the time to look over the schedule binder and see if she could find a way to avoid Laurel as much as possible. There were more employees at Books and Brew than she'd realized, and it seemed like everybody had a complicated list of conflicts that kept the schedule nearly gridlocked the way it was. It looked like the only way Nora could avoid Laurel and her drama was if Todd switched shifts with her, and she didn't think that was something she could ask for yet; she'd only been in the job for a few days. _Better wait at least a month before I pester Todd_ , she told herself, trying not to be too disappointed.

She called home during her break between shifts, and was secretly relieved when her mom answered. _At least that means she's still okay,_ Nora thought with a sigh.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, dodging around a pile of trash on the sidewalk as she walked.

"Fine, sweetie. Just a little bit more tired than usual, that's all. How's the new job?"

Nora grimaced. "Okay, I guess."

"What is it?"

"Nothing, Mom. Just one of the other girls there isn't really happy about my promotion."

Her mom snorted softly. "Then she should have worked harder, if she wanted it."

Nora's steps slowed. It had honestly never occurred to her that Laurel's cruel treatment of her could stem from jealousy. "I guess," she said slowly.

"You're a good worker, Nora. Always have been, and I'm sure the people at that shop have noticed. Well, obviously, your manager noticed. But I'm guessing you make the other girls look bad, even before you got this promotion." Her voice filled with pride. "You've always been so focused."

She wanted to contradict her mom, but thinking back over her time at Books and Brew, Nora wondered if she was right. Other than the few times she'd been late after a run, she was always early for her shift, and she was usually the last barista to leave at night, even before she became assistant manager. "Thanks, Mom," she finally said. "I guess that's her problem then!"

"Darn right!" Her mom started to cough right after she spoke, and the raspy sound made Nora glance at the phone in concern.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Don't worry about me, sweetie. Just keep focusing on your work. Are you still running?"

The change of subject didn't surprise Nora; her mom had never liked the focus to be turned on her, even before the heart attack. "Yup," Nora said, smiling wistfully at the thought of Kingston. "I joined a midnight running club, and it's actually a lot of fun."

Nora could almost hear her mom shaking her head. "I'll never understand your definition of fun. Sticking your hands in the dirt is fun. Running? Not so much."

Nora chuckled. "To each her own, I guess."

"Absolutely." There was a pause. "Look, sweetie, I'm sorry to cut you short, but I think I'm going to take a quick nap before your dad gets home."

"Oh. Okay. Give him a hug for me, I guess."

"Of course. Love you."

"You, too, Mom."

When Nora hung up, she stared at the phone in concern. Never in her life had her mother taken a mid-afternoon nap; the woman always seemed to have boundless energy, even though Nora never saw her drink more than one cup of coffee a day. _If she's napping, maybe she really isn't feeling well,_ she thought, chewing on her bottom lip. _Maybe I should take some time off this weekend and go home_.

But her worries about her mom were pushed to the side when she got back to the apartment; a guy she'd never seen before was sitting on the couch, and Nora let out a little scream after she let herself in the door.

"Who are you?" she snapped, wondering if anybody would hear her if she stepped into the hall to call for help.

The guy stood up, unfolding his tall, muscular frame from the sofa and towering over her. "Reggie. I'm sure Carl's mentioned me."

Nora glared at him. "He hasn't said much, actually." _Other than that you broke his heart._

Carl came out of the bathroom and stopped when he saw Nora. "Oh," he said, his voice hesitant, "I forgot you'd be home right now."

Her eyes searched his, but she couldn't tell how he was feeling about seeing Reggie again. "I guess I'm sorry I intruded?"

Carl shook his head. "No, it's not like that at all! Reggie was in town visiting a buddy, and he asked if he could stop by so we could talk."

Reggie moved toward the door. "I was getting ready to leave. It's nice to meet you," he offered to Nora, sticking out his hand.

After a beat, she shook it. "You, too," she said, raising an eyebrow at Carl.

He ignored her. "Call me later, if you want."

Reggie nodded and closed the door behind him.

For a moment, nobody said anything, but Nora finally broke the silence. "Are you getting back together with him?"

Carl shook his head, but he flushed slightly. "No. I don't know. I'm not sure." He paused. "Do you think I should?"

"Carl," she said gently, "I still don't know why you two broke up in the first place; you've barely talked about him since you moved in."

Carl fiddled with the gauge in his left ear. "It's complicated." He paused, and then he shook his head. "No, it's not complicated. He cheated."

Nora moved to hug him, but he pulled back. She patted his arm awkwardly. "I'm sorry. Has he—has he at least apologized?"

Carl nodded. "Today was the first time he'd bothered, but still, he came all the way to New York to say he's sorry." His eyes shone with hope. "That counts for something, right?"

"I thought you said he was visiting a friend?"

Carl rolled his eyes. "I said that because I didn't want to have to explain all this to you with him standing right here. He made the trip just to see me, Nor."

She glanced back at the door. "I'm sorry I chased him away, then."

"It's okay. I'm actually relieved; if you hadn't come home, I might have done something I'd regret later." Carl checked his watch. "Do you have time for a drink before you go back to work?"

Nora laughed. "Carl, it's barely after twelve!"

Carl's smile looked a little sad. "I really need to talk some of this stuff out, and I think I need some liquid courage to do it."

Nora hesitated another moment, but then she linked her arm through his. "Come on," she said, turning toward the door. "Drinks are on me."

The bar on the corner of their street was already open, and Nora was a little surprised to see a handful of people tucked into the booths, but she tried to suspend her judgement as she glanced across the table at Carl. He'd been her best friend for years, but this was really the first time she could remember that he'd been willing to drop his shell and have a heart to heart.

Carl ordered a beer, and Nora opted for a glass of red wine, which she sipped quietly while Carl talked about Reggie.

"I'm pretty sure he might be the one," he admitted. He was on his second beer by that time, but Nora was still nursing her first glass of wine.

"Do you really believe in that?" She asked. "Isn't it kind of like a fairy tale, something to tell kids until they're ready for the real world?"

Carl took another swallow. "If we aren't here to find our match, then what the hell's the point?"

"I don't know. Work. Family. Friends. That kind of thing."

He shook his head. "Admit it," he said, slurring slightly, "you want to believe in the fairy tale as much as I do."

She toyed with the stem of her wine glass. "Yes," she finally said, looking down, "but the thing that scares me is what if it doesn't happen? What if we can't all have a happy ending?"

"Sometimes, I think the only people who get that are the ones who take risks." Carl took a deep breath. "Like risking taking someone back after they've cheated."

"Or telling him you like him, even though he wants someone else," the words slipped out of Nora's mouth before she could stop herself, and Carl looked at her thoughtfully.

"Or that," he finally said. "Who is he?"

Nora shook her head and tried to back pedal. "Hypothetically, I mean."

"You aren't getting out of it that easy." He finished off his beer and leaned forward, his face animated. "Spill, girl."

"We're not talking about me, we're supposed to be talking about you!" She protested.

Carl shook his head. "Talking about you will help me take my mind off Reggie. So, tell me. Who is he?"

Nora sank back in her seat. "Just a guy," she said weakly, but Carl glared at her. "Fine. A guy from the running group."

He barked a laugh. "Girl, I told you! Is he long and lean?" He raised an eyebrow suggestively, and Nora swatted at him across the table.

"I barely know him, okay? I just—", she faltered, "I just think I'd like a chance with him, you know?"

"So why not go for it?"

She sighed. "He's told me he likes somebody else."

Carl winced. "Ouch."

"Yeah. For a minute, I thought he might have meant me, but there's no way."

"Okay, back up. He likes somebody else who might be you?"

Nora nodded, realizing how stupid it all sounded. "I've seen him at the coffee shop, and he said he likes a girl who works at the place where he gets coffee."

Carl's brow puckered. "He told you this at the coffee shop?"

She shook her head. "No, during our run last night."

"Does he know you work at the coffee shop?"

"I don't think so. It's like he hasn't recognized me or something; I guess because we've only run together in the dark?"

Carl snorted. "There are so many better things to do in the dark."

"Hush," Nora said, her skin heating up. "He doesn't even know I exist."

"But he likes some coffee chick. Why do you think it's not you?"

She hesitated. "He did say I sort of remind him of her..."

Carl slapped the table triumphantly. "So maybe it is you!"

Nora frowned. "But he also said she was gorgeous."

"Nora, when will you realize that _you_ are gorgeous?"

She scoffed, but Carl reached across the table and grabbed her hands.

"Look at me. Nora, look at me." She lifted her gaze and met his intent blue eyes. "You are one of the prettiest people I know, and you know what a bitch I can be about beauty."

She laughed, but she still shook her head. "I'm nothing special."

"And that, darling," he said with a sigh, "is part of your charm. You can't see how special you are."

Uncomfortable, Nora pulled her hands away. "You're just saying that because I bought your drinks," she teased, trying to steer the conversation into less serious waters.

Carl raised his empty beer bottle toward her in salute. "For which I thank you." He pulled out his phone. "What time do you have to be at work?"

"Five," she said, taking another sip of her wine. "Did you want another drink, or are you doing okay now?"

"I'm fine, but girl, you better move. It's already four!"

"Shit!" Nora stood up, knocking over what was left of her wine, and Carl scrambled away from the crimson liquid, sliding out of the booth after her. It took Nora thirty minutes on a good day to make it from their apartment to Books and Brew, but she usually left herself an hour; she'd faced a few annoying delays on the subway, and she'd rather arrive with time to spare than end up being late. She gave Carl a quick hug before she bolted out of the bar, heading for the nearest subway station.

The train was late, and she waited on the platform, jiggling her leg. _Come on, come on_ , she thought, glaring at the tracks as if she could make the train appear by wishing for it. Finally, the sleek silver engine pulled up, and Nora bounded into a subway car without waiting for the other passengers to get off.

She kept checking her phone obsessively, and even though she ran all the way from the subway stop to Books and Brew, she was fifteen minutes late for the start of her shift. Laurel was at the register when Nora burst through the door, and the girl looked pointedly at the clock before smiling wickedly at Nora. "Todd," she called out, "Nora's finally here."

Shooting her a dirty look, Nora hung her purse up on a hook and grabbed her apron. Todd came around the corner and crooked his finger at her, and Nora followed him back to the office with a sinking heart.

"Nora, what do you think I'm going to say to you?" He sounded like an angry teacher, and Nora resisted the urge to hang her head in shame.

"That I'm late, but I'm sorry. The train—"

Todd cut her off. "Was it the train last time, too?"

Nora frowned, confused. "Last time?"

"Laurel told me you were a half hour late for the closing shift a few days ago." He tugged on his mustache. "I thought you were ready for the responsibility of this position, but you're seriously making me reconsider that choice."

Nora gaped at him. "I haven't been late! Laurel was late that day; I meant to talk to you about it."

Todd shook his head. "Don't try to turn the blame around on someone else." He paused. "Is being assistant manager still something you want?"

"Yes!" She nodded vigorously. "Really, Todd, I want to do a good job."

He considered her for a moment. "I think you do," he finally said, "but Nora, I have to tell you, one more slip up, and you might be back to just being a barista."

"I won't mess this up. I'm sorry," Nora bit her lip, wishing she'd told Todd about Laurel's tardiness as soon as it happened. _Too late now_ , she admonished herself. _He just thinks I'm lying to cover my own butt._

Todd nodded. "I'm reworking the schedule for next week; how do you feel about mid-shift to close?"

Nora shrugged. "Whatever you want."

"Good. I'm scheduling you and Laurel together all week."

Nora swallowed. "Really?" Trying to find the right words, she finally said, "I think, um, that our personalities clash a little."

Todd raised an eyebrow. "Remember what I said about being a manager? You have to be able to deal with everyone, customers and staff included."

Nora gulped. "Right. Everyone." She forced a smile. "That schedule sounds fine."

### CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Even though talking to Nora about PB had given him a momentary shot of confidence, by the following day, his thoughts had sunk into a nasty snake pit of "what ifs", and instead of indulging in his coffee shop fantasy, Kingston decided it was time to focus on real life. He might not find a fairy tale love, but at least he'd dedicate himself to the things he could control, namely work and running.

He doubled down at the office, working faster than he needed to, and at the next staff meeting, he was surprised when his boss singled him out by giving him some real responsibilities. _No more errand boy,_ he thought with a smile as he shook Mr. Fitz's hand after the meeting.

Deciding to add to his winning streak, he registered early for the half marathon, and renewed his focus at the midnight runs. Nora was still there, and he was still more aware of her presence than he cared to admit, even to himself, but Kingston kept away from her at night, and he avoided the coffee shop during the day.

It should have been lonely, with nothing but work and running to fill his time anymore, but Kingston made good on his promise to Raye to stay in touch more, and most every evening, he called and chatted with his nephews. Sometimes his sister wanted to talk, but most of the time, she answered his questions with monosyllables before passing the phone off to the boys. Kingston wished she'd confide in him about the divorce proceedings, but he didn't want to push her. _She'll tell me in her own time, I guess,_ he reasoned. But he was worried about his big sister, and that Friday, he booked a last-minute flight back to Texas for the weekend.

Rachel met him at the airport with the boys, and Shelton launched himself at Kingston with force that surprised him. Picking him up, Kingston gave him a tight squeeze before turning to his sister.

"How're you?" He asked, draping one arm over her shoulders while still holding onto Shelton with his other hand.

She shrugged, and Kingston realized how tired she looked. "Good enough," she said. "Glad to see you, that's for sure."

Blake, who had been hiding his face against his mother's knees, peeped up at Kingston. "Did you bring us anything from New York?"

Kingston laughed. "Cut right to the chase, boy. I'm glad to see you, too."

Blake hid his face again, and Rachel shook her head. "Greedy little monster."

Kingston smiled. "I don't mind." He dropped his hand to ruffle Blake's hair. "There might be some surprises in my bag, but you'll have to wait until we're back to your house to find out."

They left the airport, Kingston still carrying Shelton and dragging his black roller bag behind them, and Kingston took a deep breath once they got outside. "Ah, nothing like air that won't freeze your lungs."

His nephews giggled at him, and Rachel gave him a small smile. "One more reason I won't be heading to New York any time soon," she said as she unlocked her minivan and got Blake situated in his booster seat.

Kingston deposited his nephew and his bag in the back, and then he grabbed the keys from Rachel. "Let me drive. I've missed it."

"If you crash my car, King, you better be ready to buy me a new one."

He rolled his eyes as he adjusted the driver's seat to accommodate his long legs. "I haven't crashed any cars in over a decade."

"Did you hurt yourself?" Shelton piped up from the backseat, and Kingston glanced in the rearview mirror at his nephew's wide eyes.

"No," he said slowly, "but your mom nearly killed me."

She shook her head, but she was smiling. "I had every right! My first break home from college, and I come home from a night out with my friends to find a crumpled hunk of metal that _used_ to be my car parked on the curb, and you sitting on the hood waiting for me."

He laughed, steering the van into the thick traffic outside the airport. "If looks could kill, I'd be a dead man more times than I care to count." He looked up at the rearview mirror. "Don't ever take anything of your brother's without asking permission first. Roger that, buddy?"

Shelton nodded solemnly, and Kingston drove back to Rachel's house, cheerfully swapping stories with his sister and doing his best to make her laugh. He almost succeeded, too.

### CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The next week was just about as awful as Nora had imagined; working with Laurel day after day really grated on her nerves, but she kept her mouth shut every time Laurel said something snarky, and by some miracle, they both survived the week without killing each other. Kingston hadn't come back to Books and Brew, and Nora kept her distance from him during the nightly runs, although seeing him and not being able to talk to him made her heart ache. Still, it was better that way; she was already more hung up on him than she cared to admit, and Nora knew it was a waste of time and emotion to allow her feelings to deepen. Kingston was still friendly toward her, always greeting her with a wave and a smile, but he didn't pace with her again, and Nora skipped going to the diner after the runs, just in case he opted to hang out.

If things at the midnight run were tense, they were even worse at work. Todd showed up at the coffee shop at odd hours when he wasn't working, and he hovered in the back with the office door open. Nora had the distinct impression that he was keeping an eye on her, and that proved to be true when he pulled her aside the next Thursday with a smile.

"Ready to change shifts again?"

She hesitated. She was desperate to get away from Laurel, but Todd's warning about getting along with everyone rang in her ears. Finally, Nora nodded. "I think I do like mornings a little better," she offered.

"That was my thought. We're bringing on a couple of new kids, and I'll be training them on the mid and closing shifts. You're on your own in the mornings, kiddo."

Nora grinned. "Thanks. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't. Anyone in particular that you'd like to work with?" He offered the drafted schedule to her.

She skimmed it, considering. "Frank and I worked together last week," she said, thinking out loud, "but I don't think I've ever worked with Sam or Josi." She handed the schedule back to him. "Anyone is fine, really."

"I'll put you with Josi on Monday and Wednesday, then." Todd scribbled with his pencil, and then he looked up at Nora. "Do you mind working with Laurel again on Thursday?"

Nora forced a bright smile. "Why would I mind?"

***

Carl wasn't around when she got home, and Nora found a sticky note in the kitchen that made her pause. "Going down to Philly. Tell me I'm not an idiot." She was pretty sure that meant he was going to see Reggie, and her heart tightened for him. After their heart to heart the other week, Carl hadn't said much about Reggie's visit, but Nora could tell he'd been preoccupied; his eyes glazed over sometimes when they were watching T.V. together, and he'd been a lot quieter than his usual, chipper self. Nora shook her head and pulled a carton of leftover Chinese out of the refrigerator. _I hope he doesn't do anything he'll regret_ , she thought as she settled herself in the living room and inhaled her snack.

Still, she kind of admired Carl. It took a lot of guts to put himself out there for love, and she knew that, whatever her reservations about Reggie, Carl was still pretty hung up on him. _What if I were brave enough to take that kind of risk?_ Would Kingston reject her if she tried to tell him how she felt? _You never know if you don't try,_ she thought, feeling a tiny bubble of confidence surge in her. _Maybe tonight, after the run, I'll talk to him._

***

Nora's confidence was shaky when she got to the park, but she was still determined to corner Kingston. She'd spent the entire evening rehearsing what she wanted to say, and she'd decided that after the run would be the best time to open her heart. _After all_ , she reasoned with a shiver of fear, _what's the worst that can happen?_

But fate was against her; Kingston wasn't there that night, even though Nora spent most of the run looking over her shoulder, waiting for him to catch up. _I can try again tomorrow_ , she thought, but then she remembered that she wouldn't be there tomorrow; her mom's surgery was scheduled for early Saturday morning, and she was taking the train home in the afternoon so she'd be there for everything. Todd had given her Friday off without reservation, and Nora already had her train ticket. A little fissure of disappointment rippled through her, but she beat it down. _I'll just have to wait_ , she reasoned, hoping that she could keep her nerve up until she had a chance to see Kingston again.

Carl still wasn't back the next day, and Nora headed to the train station alone. She sent him a quick text, reminding him about the surgery, but she hadn't heard back from him by the time she arrived, and she tried to ignore her disappointment.

Her dad was waiting at the station for her, and Nora brightened when she saw his familiar old station wagon. Slipping into the front seat, she leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "How're you?"

"Doing pretty good. What about you, sweetie?"

She shrugged. "Okay. Glad to be home with you guys." After a pause, she asked, "How's Mom?"

Her dad grinned. "Right as rain. She's ready to get this surgery over and done with so she can go back to playing with her plants."

Nora laughed. "Hopefully, the recovery time won't take too long."

Her dad maneuvered the car expertly through the crammed city streets. "Doc says it depends, but your mom's determined to have the shortest recovery time on the planet."

Nora relaxed against the seat. "I'm glad she's doing so much better. I'd been worried."

"Nothing to worry about; she had her pre-op today, and they said everything looks good." He gestured cheerfully to the iconic _LOVE_ sculpture on the corner. "Nothing like a little love to make everything better, right?"

Nora laughed, but she felt a sharp twinge in her chest. Her parents had been together for thirty years, and they still seemed completely happy with each other. _Will I ever find somebody I could spend my life with?_ Her thoughts wandered as her dad drove out of the city to the old farmhouse, and Nora was feeling melancholy when they pulled into the drive.

***

It rained through the night, but the clouds had cleared by the time Nora woke up the next morning. She made coffee for herself and her dad, but because of the surgery, her mom didn't have anything to eat or drink. Still, they all sat out on the old wooden porch together, watching the sun come up, each lost in their own quiet thoughts, until finally Nora's mom stood and stretched.

"It's just about time to head to Mercy," she said, smiling at Nora. "I'm glad you're here, sweetie."

Nora stood up and embraced her. "Me, too."

Slugging the rest of his coffee, her dad headed down the porch. "I'll bring the car around; can't have my princesses walking through all that muck!"

As he rounded the corner to the driveway, Nora's mom reached for her hand, and Nora looked at her, surprised.

"If anything happens to me," she said quietly, "I just need you to know that I've never loved anyone more than you and your dad."

Nora shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes at the unexpected declaration. "Mom, everything's going to be fine."

Her mother was silent for a moment, looking out at the yard, her eyes squinting in the hazy morning light. "I know. But I haven't told you enough how wonderful you are, Nora Jane. You are my pride and joy, and that'll always be the truth."

Nora choked up, but she forced a smile as the station wagon pulled into view. "I love you, too, Mom."

The drive to the hospital was silent, and Nora noticed that her dad's fingers were white on the steering wheel. _Are we all more nervous than anyone's letting on?_ She wondered, pushing her glassed up her nose three times before she forced herself to hold her hands in her lap. Instead, she fiddled with her phone, sending another text to Carl before she tried to distract herself by looking at the weather forecast.

When they pulled up to the hospital, her mom insisted on waiting until they parked the car, even though Nora's dad wanted to drop her off at the entrance. He didn't argue, and the family walked through the automatic doors together.

Nora caught a glimpse of familiar blue hair as soon as they were inside, and she stared at Carl stupidly. He beelined for them, wrapping Nora's mom into a tight hug.

She laughed and patted him on the back. "This is a surprise! We haven't seen you in ages!"

Carl smiled as he released her. "Wanted to be here with you all today," he said, slipping an arm around Nora. "Like I told your girl here, you're like family to me."

Nora gave him a quick squeeze, and when her parents were occupied with checking in, she whispered, "What about Reggie?"

Carl shook his head, but his eyes were happy and bright. "Right now, girl, I'm all about you."

"Thank you," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "I didn't realize how scared I was until I saw you."

Carl looked down at her. "Your mom is one tough lady, Nora. Everything is going to be okay."

### CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Kingston had more fun than he cared to admit chasing his nephews around the yard that weekend, but it wasn't as easy to get Rachel to open up as he'd hoped. He'd thought being there might make a difference, but she was still tight-lipped on Friday night when he brought up Mark after the boys had gone to bed.

The next night, he decided to try a little harder. Taking over the bedtime routine from his sister, he directed her to take a bath and have a glass of wine.

Instead of protesting like he'd expected, she'd patted his cheek and given him a half-smile. "I can't remember the last time I did something like that."

He scooped Blake up and dangled him upside down for a minute. "Go for it. I'll take care of these hoodlums."

Putting the boys to bed was harder than Kingston had expected, but he managed, and by the time they were sleeping soundly, Rachel had emerged, dressed in yoga pants and a loose T-shirt and still carrying her glass of wine. Kingston grabbed the bottle and joined her on the couch with his own glass.

"So," he began, "what's the news with you and Mark?"

She frowned and took a swallow. "We've started the paperwork process. Luckily it's a no-fault state; I'd hate to think what kind of fight would ensue trying to pin the blame on one or the other of us for this mess."

Kingston hesitated. "Is it his fault?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Who's side are you on?"

He lifted his hands quickly. "I just...I'm trying to figure out what happened. You guys always seemed so good."

She shrugged, but tears filled her eyes. "Good can go bad, I guess."

"Is there somebody else?"

"For me?" Rachel shook her head. "No. Not yet, anyway. But I'm not going to stay off the market forever...unless you think I should?"

Kingston was surprised; Rachel rarely asked his advice on anything. "I think you need to do whatever feels right."

She took another swallow of wine. "It's just so hard, you know? It's like all these years, this whole life has been a lie. And now I don't know what's real anymore."

"The boys are real. And you're real, Raye."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Sometimes, I wish it were just a dream."

"I wish I could do something."

She glanced up at him. "I appreciate you coming out here," she said slowly, her eyes searching his, "but I've gotta tell you, King, I've got a feeling you aren't just here for me."

He refilled his glass. "What do you mean?"

"Come on. You spontaneously decide to jet back to Texas for a weekend, just to see me and the boys?" She raised her eyebrow at him. "What are you running from; work or a woman?"

Kingston took a huge gulp of his wine, barely tasting it. "You know I love my job."

"Then it's a woman." Rachel was quiet for a moment. "Is she good enough for you, little brother?"

He shook his head ruefully. "Doesn't even know I exist." He paused, considering how much to share with his sister. "And then there's this other girl..."

Rachel sat up, crossing her legs underneath her as she turned to face him. "Okay. Spill. Now."

Kingston laughed. "That's what it takes to perk you up? My girl problems?"

"Hush. Maybe I can help."

He looked down at his wineglass. "The first girl, the one who doesn't know I exist, well, she's a barista."

"Coffee can be good," Rachel offered. "Easy conversation starter."

Kingston smiled. "We've had a few conversations here and there, but, well, I can't quite bring myself to ask her name. What if she thinks I'm some kind of creepy stalker customer?"

Rachel eyed him critically. "Are you being a creepy stalker customer?"

He hung his head. "Yeah," he admitted. "At least, until this week; I pretty much stopped going to the coffee shop."

"How come?"

"Because—" he stopped himself before he told her that her divorce was one of the things that was making him second guess his attraction to PB. "Just because I wanted a break, I guess," he finished lamely.

"Okay. So what about girl number two? Please tell me you at least know this one's name."

Kingston grinned despite himself. "Yeah. Her name is Nora." He paused, remembering the last run he'd been on before heading to Texas. "She's in my running group."

"Something in common," his sister quipped. "Sounds promising. What do you like about her?"

"Well," he rubbed the back of his neck, "I think I first noticed her because she reminded me of PB."

"What?"

He flushed. "I've taken to calling the coffee girl PB...you know, 'pretty barista'."

His sister burst out laughing. "You are pathetic, you know that?"

Kingston shrugged, but then he cracked a smile. "It's pretty stupid, isn't it?"

She giggled. "Yeah, but then again, it's also kind of sweet. So, Nora reminds you of the other girl, who you haven't talked to...but you've talked to Nora, I'm guessing?"

He nodded. "We chat after the runs some nights."

Rachel studied his face. "What's holding you back?"

"What, other than the fact that I can't decide which of them I'm hung up on?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yes, other than that. Why aren't you just going for one of them?"

Kingston shrugged. "I don't know how long I'll be at the New York office," he said, searching for a plausible excuse for his fear. "There's no reason to start something, right?"

Rachel shook her head and drained her wine glass. "Wrong. There's no reason to waste any time wondering," she said, her eyes serious and sad. "Even if it doesn't work out, you can't just pretend you aren't lonely."

"But is it worth it at the other end? The pain, I mean?" He asked, studying her face.

She hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded. "I wouldn't trade a minute of it. Well, I'd sure as hell trade this divorce if I could, but I can't. But when it was good, it was really good." She interlaced her fingers through Kingston's and gave a gentle squeeze. "You should go for it."

"Which one?"

"Does it matter? Just pick the girl you can't stop thinking about, and take a chance. The worst that can happen is she'll say no, and then at least you'll know, right?"

Kingston nodded, thinking about it. "Maybe I'll have a cup of coffee when I get back to New York," he said thoughtfully.

Rachel grinned. "Go get her, tiger. Just make sure you find out her name before you ask her to marry you!"

### CHAPTER NINETEEN

Everything was not okay.

Nora listened, numbly, as the doctor explained that statistically, three percent of every open heart surgery led to a stroke, but that only one percent of all the surgeries resulted in death on the operating table. The surgeon's eyes were rimmed with red, and the woman sat with Nora and her dad a long time, but Nora barely noticed. Finally, the doctor got to her feet with a sigh and told them to take as much time as they needed in the windowless, private room before she turned and headed back into the hospital.

Alone with her dad, Nora sank back in the hard chair and squeezed her eyes shut. _This isn't happening. I must be asleep._ But when her eyes fluttered open, the first thing she saw was her father's hunched form beside her. His shoulders were drawn up to his ears, and he was leaning forward, staring blankly at his clasped hands.

Nora fiddled with the small diamond ring on her right hand. Just before going into surgery, her mom had slipped off her wedding ring and handed it to Nora. "Keep this safe for me, sweetie," she'd whispered with a smile and a quick hug. Now, Nora turned the band again and again, not knowing what else to do. She glanced at her dad again, hoping he would take charge of the situation, but he looked like an empty shell, and Nora realized they would both probably sit there forever if one of them didn't say something.

Taking a deep breath, Nora gently touched her dad's hand. He clasped his fingers through hers without looking at her. "Daddy," she finally said, "we need to take care of things."

He nodded slowly, his eyes still staring at nothing. "Marigolds."

Nora looked at him. "What?"

Her dad cleared his throat and finally lifted his eyes to her face. "She loved marigolds. We should—we should make sure there are some at the funeral." His face scrunched up, and silent tears began to stream down his cheeks. Nora's heart cracked as she leaned forward to hug him, but she didn't cry. _I can't breakdown yet_ , she thought as she clung to her father. _He needs me to keep it together._

Carl was waiting for them in the hallway outside the private room, and when Nora opened her mouth, he just shook his head and pulled her into a rough hug. She clung to him for a second, but then she glanced back at her dad. His tears had stopped, but he still looked hollowed out, his vacant eyes drifting lazily around the busy hospital without seeing anything. "Dad," she said, "let's go home."

***

The next few days passed in a blur of condolence cards and casseroles. It seemed like everyone in town had stopped by with something for them to eat, and Nora dished everything into single serving containers, labeled it all, and froze most of it. _At least Dad won't starve_ , she thought grimly as she portioned off another pan of lasagna.

There were other things to be dealt with, too, and Nora handled most of them. She didn't want to bother her dad, and since his shell-shocked expression hadn't really changed after they left the hospital, a part of her worried that asking him for help would cause him even more pain. Carl stuck around, and Nora was grateful for his help. She'd never realized how much there was to do to plan for a funeral before.

_Funeral_. It was such a grim word, such a depressing word. Nora wished they were Irish; then they could just call it a wake and be done with it. _Don't the Irish celebrate with food and stories, rather than organ music and a melancholy viewing?_ Still, Nora wasn't about to rock the boat; she'd found her mom's will in the filing cabinet in the den, and Nora was determined to follow her requests to the letter. That meant an open casket viewing, followed by a funeral and a walk to the grave site the next day.

Carl was the one who suggested she email the running group and ask them to come, but Nora didn't want to impose. Still, she emailed Lynne and let her know what had happened, giving her the date and place of the funeral, but she wasn't really expecting more than a couple of condolence notes from the group. That Friday morning, Nora was surprised to see a clump of familiar faces dressed in somber colors waiting outside the doors to the funeral home when she pulled up with her dad and Carl. Kingston was there, Nora noticed, but even the sight of his face didn't pierce her numbness.

Lynne came up to her and opened her arms, and Nora gave the woman a quick hug. "I didn't expect you all to make the trip; thank you."

Lynne nodded. "This isn't something you should have to deal with alone."

Tears welled up in Nora's eyes for the first time since her mother's death, and she took a deep breath, forcing herself to keep it together just a little bit longer. "It means a lot to me."

"You'd do the same for any of us."

That simple statement left Nora speechless. _Would I?_ She thought as she hugged each of the runners as they filed into seats. _Yes, I think I would. That's what friends do, isn't it?_

Kingston was at the back of the line, and Nora looked at the floor for a moment before she lifted her eyes to his. Her heart started to thump a little faster, and Nora tried to ignore the impulse to throw her arms around him and never let go. Instead, she reached up and gave him a quick hug, but when she pulled away, his expression looked tense. Before she could say anything, Carl appeared at her side and tugged on her hand. She glanced at the front of the room and realized the minister was about to begin, and with an apologetic smile at Kingston, she followed Carl to the empty chairs waiting beside her dad in the first row.

Nora tugged on the bottom of her skirt and crossed and uncrossed her legs. She'd dressed carefully that morning, wearing a navy blue dress she'd bought in town the day before. Over it, she'd layered one of her mom's crocheted cardigans that she'd found in her parents' closet, wanting something that could make her feel closer to her. She'd resisted the urge to slick her hair back into a pony tail, instead letting the waves hang loose around her face. _Mom always said it was important to look nice_ , Nora thought, a lump filling her throat as her eyes focused on the casket.

She didn't remember anything the minister said during the funeral, and before she knew it, they were all walking across the street to the small, fenced-in graveyard. Carl was one of the pall bearers, as was her father, so Nora had to make the walk alone. Even though the morning had been clear, it was still bitterly cold, and Nora's feet crunched over the frozen ground as she made her way to the gravesite. A couple of times, she glanced behind her, searching the guests for Kingston, but it seemed like everyone in town was there, and she didn't see him over the crowd.

The freshly-dug grave gaped like an open wound, and Nora stood with her toes almost on the edge of the hole. As the coffin was slowly lowered down into the earth with a mechanical whir, Nora felt the dam crack that had been holding back her tears, but she struggled to maintain her composure. Leaning forward, she dropped a perfect orange marigold blossom into the grave, but her throat caught around the words she'd wanted to say, so she just stood there in silence while the other guests dropped their flowers into the earth. A few people were weeping, but Nora forced her tears to wait. _Just keep it together a little bit longer_ , she begged herself.

Kingston approached the grave with a flower, and Nora stood up a little straighter. After he dropped the offering, he turned toward her. Nora opened her mouth, not sure what she was going to say, but he just gave her a tight nod before he turned and walked away. Her heart deflated, and her eyes followed him. _What was all that about?_ She wanted to hurry after him, to tell him how much it meant that he was there, but before she could work up the nerve, Carl wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

"You doing okay, girl?" He asked quietly.

Nora took a shuddering breath. "No."

"Honesty's the best policy." There were tears in his eyes when he pulled away, and Nora felt her own tears bubbling up in response.

"She's—she's gone," she stuttered, finally giving into her grief as tears started to pour down her face.

Wordlessly, Carl pulled her into another embrace, and Nora broke. She sobbed against his chest until she felt like a sponge that had been left out in the sun to dry, and then, hiccupping, lifted her face.

"What would I do without you?"

Carl gave her a weak smile. "Same thing I'd do without you; nothing good."

Nora kissed his cheek and took a deep breath. "Thank you for being here. I don't think I could have got through all this alone."

He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'm sorry you had to go through this at all."

They broke apart, but Nora hung onto his arm as they walked away from the grave. At the gate of the graveyard, her eyes spotted a familiar, tall form in a charcoal suit, and her steps quickened without her planning it. Carl followed her eyes and tipped his head toward Kingston.

"Is that the guy?"

Nora lifted her hand to wave, hoping that he'd wait for her, but Kingston turned and walked away. Nora's hand fell limply to her side. "Yes. But he's acting so strange today. I don't know what I did."

"He came all the way out here for you, though, sweetie. That's got to count for something."

Nora hesitated, but then she looked up at Carl. "You really think?"

"I really do. And besides, funerals aren't exactly fun. He probably doesn't know how to act, so that's why he's being weird."

Feeling guilty, Nora looked back over her shoulder at her mother's grave. "This really should be the last thing on my mind."

Carl stopped and looked at her. "You know she'd want you to keep living your life, Nora. That's the best gift you can give her right now."

Nora nodded slowly. "I think maybe you're right."

Carl flashed a grin. "I'm always right. Now, didn't you say there's more lasagna back at your house than anyone can eat? Let's find your dad and go have some lunch."

Nora forced a smile. It felt strange to be discussing normal, everyday things like food, but Carl was right: she wasn't through mourning, but she also wasn't ready to stop living.

### CHAPTER TWENTY

God, he felt like an idiot.

When he'd rejoined the midnight runners after his trip to Texas, Nora hadn't been there, but Kingston had been too busy plotting out what he wanted to say to PB the next time he saw her that he hadn't really noticed. And then, the next night, when Lynne told the group in a low voice that Nora wouldn't be back for a while because she was in Pennsylvania, dealing with the loss of her mother, Kingston's heart had ached a bit. He'd approached Lynne to see if she had any ideas of things they could do to offer Nora a bit of comfort or support, and she'd surprised him by telling him that she was planning to go down for the funeral. Kingston immediately agreed to go, but now he wished he hadn't bothered.

When he spotted Nora at the funeral home, somber but still so sweet, he'd done a double-take. Gone was the runner with the slicked back ponytail he'd gotten used to; soft brown hair hung around her face in waves, and Kingston realized with a jolt that there was a perfectly good reason the girl had reminded him of PB...they were one and the same. He'd given her a hug before the funeral, but he'd barely had a chance to process his realization when he was hit with another bomb.

The girl he'd been obsessed with for weeks was already taken.

Kingston didn't think much of the other guy, either; spikey blue hair and piercings were things to play with in high school or never, in his opinion, but Nora seemed totally smitten with the stranger. She clung to his hand through the service, and later, at the gravesite, Kingston watched her come completely unraveled in another man's arms.

And good Lord, it hurt.

He returned to New York feeling angry, betrayed, and ridiculously depressed. _How could she do that to me?_ He wasn't sure what was worse; that she'd strung him along when he started talking about the barista, or that she'd been with somebody all this time and he'd never even had a chance.

_That's what you get for believing in love at first sight_ , he told himself firmly when he was back at the office. _Never again,_ he vowed, throwing himself into his work with deliberate focus. He reasoned that if he filled his head with figures and profit margins, there wouldn't be any room left for Nora.

He was wrong, but it didn't matter. Even if he couldn't shake her from his thoughts, he resolved that he could at least cut her from his life. _There have to be plenty of places in New York to buy a decent cup of coffee without getting your heart broken in the process._

### CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Nora stayed with her dad for another week, but day by day, the shock that had been with him since the hospital began to wear off, and he almost seemed like his old self again. There wasn't a lot to do at the farmhouse, other than clean a bit; she and her dad had decided they would postpone sorting through her mother's things until the summer. Nora figured he still felt too raw to go through that, and she wasn't sure she was ready to sift through clothes and jewelry, either; sorting her mom's things and figuring what to keep and what to get rid of felt too personal, too final, and Nora was glad to wait. Finally, her dad insisted that she go back to New York, and even though she felt a pang of guilt over leaving him alone, she had to admit that she'd been missing her life.

Her dad dropped her off at the train station, and Nora clung to him a minute longer than usual. "You're sure that you're okay?" She asked, looking intently into his eyes.

He nodded. "Every day gets a little better." He paused. "I miss her, peanut, but I can't just curl up and die. Marjorie wouldn't want to think that either of us let her death get in the way of our living."

Nora nodded, wiping a tear away. "I know. Carl said the same thing at the funeral."

"That's a good friend you've got there," her dad said fondly. "I'm glad you've got somebody you can rely on."

"I just wish I didn't live so far away."

He shrugged. "Don't worry about me, kiddo. I'll keep trucking along, doing what I've always done." He winked at her. "Maybe I'll finally learn to cook."

Nora laughed. "You've got enough leftovers in the freezer to last awhile, but I think that's probably a good idea." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "I love you, daddy."

"Love you too, peanut. Now, get back to work!" He gave her one last squeeze, and when Nora boarded the train, she took a seat by the window facing the platform and waved until her dad was out of sight.

Life settled into a dull rhythm after that. Nora started to get the hang of managing Books and Brew, and although Laurel was still nasty whenever they had to work together, she didn't come in late or pull any other stupid stuff, and Nora wondered idly if the other girl had put their fight on hold to allow Nora time to grieve. Secretly, she wasn't sure the grieving would ever stop; she wasn't overwhelmed with tears again like she'd been at the funeral, but sometimes Nora would look up from what she was doing at odd moments and suddenly remember that there was a hole in her heart.

She kept running, growing closer to the members of the group who'd come to her mom's funeral, but the midnight runs weren't as fun as before. Kingston had stopped showing up, and although Nora wanted to ask Lynne if she knew what had happened to him, she couldn't quite work up the nerve. Still, training for the half marathon every night and spending most of her waking hours at the coffee shop kept Nora busy, and as long as she was busy, at least it felt like she was living her life. She'd almost convinced herself that she _was_ living, but deep down, a little voice whispered that she was just in a holding pattern.

After a month had passed, the sharp winter weather slowly started to give way to spring, and Nora signed up to run the New York Half Marathon the very last day that registration was open. A few of the other members of the midnight running group had signed up ages ago, and Nora was excited to see them that night and let them know that she was going to do it, too. She watched the clock the entire time she was at Books and Brew, counting down the hours until she could share her news with people who would understand how much it meant to her, and because she was so distracted, she didn't notice when Kingston walked in.

He cleared his throat at the counter, and Nora pulled her eyes away from the clock, a customer service smile plastered on her face. Her smile slipped when she saw the Texan, though, and her heart started to pound. She hadn't seen him since her mom's funeral, and she hadn't admitted to herself until that moment how much she missed him.

"Haven't seen you in a long time," she said, the words popping out before she could think.

He nodded, but instead of his familiar smile, his face was politely blank. "I need to know something," he said without preamble.

Nora shifted forward nervously. "Okay."

"Were you planning on letting me keep making a fool of myself on the runs, or were you ever going to tell me?"

Her eyebrows drew together. "Tell you what?"

He rolled his eyes. "Nora, you let me go on and on about you, and you didn't say anything. I feel like an idiot!"

Her thoughts raced to keep up. _Does he mean that I was the girl he was talking about?_ Her breath caught, and she started to smile. "But...I didn't know you meant me!"

"How could you not? I even said you reminded me of her." He shook his head, his expression stiff.

Nora bit her lip. "I wasn't sure—" she stuttered. "I mean, why would someone like you be interested in me?"

"But then to find out that you were probably laughing at me the whole time," he said, his eyes sparking, "that's what really hurts."

Nora shook her head. "I wasn't laughing at you," she said softly, "I just couldn't find a way to tell you."

He looked past her at the menu. "It doesn't matter. I'll just have a coffee, to go."

Confused, Nora rang him up. "But now that you know it's me---did you—I mean—" she floundered, trying to figure out if he still thought about her at all.

Kingston took the cup she offered and handed her a crisp ten dollar bill. "Keep the change," he said, his voice brittle. "And I hope you two will be happy."

"You two?" She echoed, more confused than ever, but he had already walked out of the shop.

Her impulse was to run after him, to grab him on the sidewalk and figure out what he was saying once and for all, but she had a line of customers waiting, and Laurel was still on her break. For a moment, Nora bit her lip, hemming and hawing, but finally, she turned to the next person in line and rang him up methodically. _What the hell just happened?_

Her strange conversation with Kingston was still on her mind when, hours later, she made it to Central Park for her nightly run. Walking up to Lynne before things got started, Nora pushed her self-consciousness away and asked, "Do you know what happened to Kingston?"

Lynne paused. "He said he found another training group," she said finally. After a moment, she added, "I sort of got the impression there was something going on with the two of you."

Nora was so startled she laughed. "I wish!" She blurted out.

Lynne studied her face. "He sure seemed upset when he saw you with that guy."

"What guy?" Had he seen her talking to Todd at work or something?

"At your mom's funeral. The guy with the piercings."

It took Nora a moment to process the words, but when she did, her jaw dropped. "You mean Carl?"

Lynne shrugged. "I don't think I was introduced to him that day."

Nora shook her head, astonished. "But he's...Carl's my roommate," she finally said. "There's nothing going on between us."

Lynne cocked her eyebrow. "Not my business if there is." She hesitated. "Seriously?"

"He's been my best friend since high school," Nora said, "but Lynne, he's not even straight! Was Kingston actually jealous?"

Lynne held up her hands. "I don't know what's going on; I'm just telling you what it seemed like to me." She tapped the side of her head. "I usually have a pretty good intuition about relationships," she said, but then added with a rueful smile, "other than my own, that is."

"And you really thought Kingston and I might have been together?"

Lynne studied her in the dark. "Is that so impossible to believe? You just said that you liked him."

Nora shrugged, embarrassed. "But there's no way he even knew I existed."

"That's not what it looked like to me, Nora."

Nora stewed on Lynne's revelations the whole time they ran. It was hard for her to believe that the girl Kingston had told her about had been her, but Lynne seemed pretty sure of herself. Nora stumbled, almost wiping out on the asphalt, but even as she caught her balance, she didn't pull her thoughts away from the mess she'd made of things. First, she'd totally misread Kingston's signals, and then she'd made him think she was just toying with him. True, Carl had been with her most of the day at the funeral, and she remembered embracing him beside the grave when her tears threatened to break her, but how could Kingston have thought they were a couple? _What's even worse is the fact that he WAS talking about me all along, and I was too dumb to see it_.

Sweaty and angry with herself, Nora finished up the run in silence. Part of her wanted to ask Lynne if she knew a way to get in touch with Kingston, but another part of her felt like that would be too desperate. _You had your chance, and you screwed it up._ Dejected, she made it halfway back to her apartment before she realized that she hadn't told the group about signing up for the marathon. The earlier excitement she'd felt had been replaced by an uncomfortable knot in her stomach, and Nora started thinking about calling in sick to work and staying home with her head under the covers. _I wish I could talk to Mom about this mess_ , she thought as she turned her key in the door and let herself into the dark apartment.

A wave of loss washed over her, and Nora squeezed her eyes shut. "Mom," she whispered, "I miss you so much." The empty room didn't answer, and, limbs suddenly leaden, Nora laid down on the couch. She didn't want to make the effort to go to her room, and she felt the old cushions sag under her weight as she closed her eyes. That night, her dreams were a jumbled swirl of regrets and broken wishes, and Nora woke up with tears on her cheeks.

### CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Kingston kept training, but with his longer hours at work, he didn't always make it to his new running group each day. He thought about going back to the midnight runners time and again, but after his encounter with Nora at the coffee shop, he didn't want to risk running into her. Her eyes had looked hurt when he'd finally confronted her, but Kingston tried not to dwell on the way his heart clenched when she looked at him that way. Seeing her again had been a mistake, so even though he probably would have gotten more training if he'd swallowed his pride and gone back to the group, he wasn't ready to see Nora again.

Carrie must have noticed the change in his demeanor, because she started badgering him to go out for lunch again, until finally, one day, Kingston decided to put a stop to it.

"You're a nice lady, Carrie," he said, leaning over the receptionist's desk and smiling down at her. "But you might as well stop asking."

She started at him, her mouth hanging open. "But I—"

"I don't date women I work with." He said, giving her an apologetic shrug. "And since neither of us has any plans to move on, well..." he trailed off. "I hope we can be still be friends."

Carrie stared at him for a moment, and finally the blond shook her head incredulously. "You know, I think that's the most polite brush off I've ever gotten."

Kingston frowned. "I'm not trying to brush you off. I just don't think work relationships are a good idea."

"You've got a point," Carrie said, but then she lowered her voice and leaned forward with a seductive smile. "But what about being friends with benefits?"

Kingston couldn't help himself; he laughed out loud at the suggestion. "Not my style," he said. "Although you are lovely," he assured her when he saw her crushed expression.

"I'll never understand men," she grumbled under her breath, turning back to her computer and beginning to type away, effectively dismissing him.

"We aren't too good at figuring you all out, either," Kingston said with a chuckle as he headed back to his cubicle.

Things fell into a predictable rhythm after that; Kingston ran whenever he could, worked harder than usual, and, slowly, he found he was thinking about Nora less with each passing day. He'd avoided calling his sister after the mess with the funeral because he didn't want her to press him about the things he'd confessed while he was back in Texas, but guilt finally got the better of him, and he called her one Friday night to check in.

He was surprised when his mother answered the phone, and he double checked to make sure he'd dialed the right number. "Where's Raye?"

"Kingston, is that you? How are you, sweetie?"

He sat down on his sofa. "Fine, Mom. Is everything okay?"

She laughed. "Of course everything's fine. Why do you ask?"

"What are you doing with Raye's phone?"

"Oh, that. I'm over here babysitting tonight, and she was in the shower when the phone rang, so I figured I should answer it."

Kingston tried to keep up. "Is she there now?"

"Let me check." There was silence for a moment, and then his sister's voice came on the line.

"Hi, stranger."

He winced. "Sorry I haven't been better about calling."

"It's okay. But make sure you talk to the boys before you go."

"Of course." He paused. "You okay? What's Mom doing over there?"

She was quiet for a minute. "She's babysitting," Rachel finally said slowly.

"I got that much. Where are you going?"

"Promise you won't be mad?"

Kingston glanced at the phone. "Why would I be mad?"

Rachel exhaled loudly. "Well," she said, "I've got a date."

It was like he'd fallen into an alternate universe, and Kingston shook his head. "You what?"

"A date, King. Surely you remember what that is?"

"But what about Mark?" As soon as he said it, he felt like an ass. "Raye, I'm sorry—"

"No, it's okay. I forgot I haven't told you. The divorce is almost final."

Kingston raised an eyebrow. "That was fast."

He could almost hear his sister shrug. "We agreed on the terms pretty easily; I guess we were both ready to move on with our lives. Thank God it wasn't some long, drawn out fight. I don't think the boys would have survived that."

"But back to this date. Who's the guy?"

Rachel giggled softly, and she almost sounded like a teenager again. "Josh. I met him when I was on assignment for the paper."

"He's somebody you interviewed?"

"No, he's a reporter. He works for my competition."

Kingston rubbed his forehead. "You're insane, you know that?"

"Am I?" Her voice suddenly cracked. "King, is this a bad idea?"

He wanted to tell her that he hadn't even met the guy, or caution her about falling too fast before she had time to really heal, but she sounded happier than she had in months, so Kingston closed his eyes. "If you're happy, it's never a bad idea."

"I _want_ to be happy," she said quietly, "and Josh makes me laugh."

"Then that's good enough for me."

"When are you coming home to visit? I want to introduce the two of you."

Kingston shrugged. "Actually, I was thinking I might see about transferring back. New York has lost some of its appeal."

Rachel was silent for a moment. "I'm going to call tomorrow so you can fill me in on exactly what you mean, but right now, I've got to finish getting ready." She paused. "You okay, though?"

He thought about it for a moment, and finally shrugged. "I'm getting by. Have fun tonight."

"I will," she said. "And King?"

"Yeah?"

"It'll all work out. You've got to keep believing that."

### CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Despite Nora's grief, spring finally came, and with it, the New York City Half Marathon. The night before the race, Nora skipped her midnight run. She wanted to make sure she got as much rest as possible before the big day, but she was too keyed up to fall asleep. Finally, she gave up and took a long, hot shower, giving herself a mental pep-talk as the water caressed her skin.

Slicking her hair back with determination, Nora leaned toward the steamy mirror. "You can do this," she said to her reflection, "you're ready for this."

When she emerged from the shower, Carl was standing in the kitchen. He grinned at her and held out a thermos of coffee. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

She laughed, taking a sip of the coffee. "Thanks," she said, but after a moment, she passed the coffee back to him. Her stomach was too jittery to dump caffeine on top of it, and Nora grabbed her water bottle instead. "Do you think you'll be at the finish line?"

He grinned. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. When should I be there?"

The race had a rolling start, and Nora had signed up for the first group at six am. "I'm hoping to run it in two hours, or as close to that as I can get." She pulled her ponytail tighter. "I don't know if I'll be that fast, though, since it's my first time."

"Then I'll be there waiting at eight. You've got this, girl."

Nora gave him a quick hug. "Thank you," she said, trying to force a smile despite the way her stomach was jumping around.

Just then, her phone buzzed, and she looked at it for a minute before answering. _Who would call me this early?_

"Nora, it's Todd."

Her stomach flip-flopped. An early call from her boss couldn't be good, but she tried to keep her tone neutral. "What's up, Todd?"

"I need you to open the store today. I'm dealing with a family problem, and I have no idea when I'll get there."

Her stomach felt like lead. "Todd, I want to help, but it's the half marathon today."

"Just open the store and wait for Laurel to show up; don't worry about working a full shift," he offered hurriedly. "Can you do that for me?"

She took a deep breath. _If Laurel's on time, I should still be able to make my start time._ "Sure," she finally said, crossing her fingers and hoping she wouldn't miss the marathon. "I got this." After a pause, she added, "And I'm sorry about whatever's going on. I hope everything is okay."

"Thanks," he said, his voice tight. "Me, too."

Nora hung up the phone and looked at Carl. "I have to open Books and Brew."

He groaned. "But what about the race?"

"I should still be okay," she said, trying to make herself believe it. "But I better change; no one wants to see a store manager in spandex."

Carl frowned and pointed to the clock. "You won't have time," he said. "Just take a spare pair of shoes; you don't want to coat your Nikes with flavored syrup for good luck."

She laughed. "Good point," she called over her shoulder as she rushed into her room and changed into her plain black work shoes. Tying the laces of her running shoes together, she slung them over her shoulder and grabbed her keys and her phone. "Wish me luck!" She said as she headed out the door.

Carl waved after her. "You won't need luck. I'll see you at the finish line!"

Nora hurried across town, thankful that the train was on-time, and when she made it to the coffee shop, she dropped her shoes in the back and went through all of the opening manager's duties on autopilot. Laurel showed up right at five thirty, but she glared at Nora when she spotted her behind the counter.

"What are you doing here?"

Nora glanced at the clock and pulled her apron off. "Leaving. Todd had an emergency, so I opened up for him, but now I've got to go or I'll miss the start of the half marathon."

Laurel frowned and shook her head. "That's not fair! How am I supposed to handle the opening crowd alone?"

Before Nora could say anything, someone pounded on the delivery door in the back, and Nora hurried to answer it, glancing at the clock as she went. "I'll take care of this," she called over her shoulder to Laurel, "but then I've really got to go."

When Nora opened the back door, an unfamiliar delivery driver was standing there, staring at his clipboard. "Books and Brew, right?" He asked, barely looking at her.

Nora nodded. "I'll sign for it." Reaching for the clipboard, she barely skimmed the order before signing off. "You know where it goes?"

He shook his head. "First day on this route."

Nora sighed heavily, but she propped the door open and led him through the back to the freezer and rapidly explained the shelving system before leaving him alone to unload.

Poking her head around the front, she saw that Laurel was slammed with customers, but Nora tried not to feel guilty. "Delivery guy's here," she called, "so shut the back door when you get a chance."

Laurel shot her a dirty look, but she didn't say anything as Nora hurried to the back to grab her shoes. _If I take a cab to Central Park, I might still make it,_ she thought, reaching for the shelf where she'd left her shoes.

Her fingers brushed against Laurel's purse, but there weren't any shoes on the shelf. _Did they fall?_ Nora wondered, squatting down and looking under the shelf, but she didn't see the familiar neon laces.

"All done," the delivery guy called from behind her, but Nora was too distracted to do more than wave at him. Her eyes skimmed every surface in the breakroom, and her heart started to pound. Her shoes were nowhere in sight.

Suddenly, it dawned on her. _Laurel_ , she thought, marching back to the front of the store with determination. "What happened to my shoes?"

Laurel ignored her as she rang up another customer, and Nora clenched her fists.

"Laurel, this isn't funny. I'm already late; would you just tell me what you did with my shoes?"

Laurel blinked at her innocently. "What shoes?"

Nora exhaled loudly. "My running shoes. They were in the back, and now they're gone."

The girl shrugged and started making a latte. "Why would I know anything about your stupid shoes?"

"Maybe because you love going out of your way to torture me?" Nora's voice cracked, and Laurel smirked.

"You really are ridiculous," she said, handing the drink to the customer with a smile before heading back to ring up the next patron. "But since you're still here, I could use some help."

Completely at a loss, Nora stared at her for a moment. "Laurel, I paid a lot of money to run the half marathon," she finally pleaded. "Would you please just give me back my shoes?"

Laurel shrugged. "Why are you so sure I took them? Somebody could have stolen them."

Nora rolled her eyes. "Right. Out of the back break room."

"You said there was a delivery; maybe the driver took them."

A seed of doubt started to form in Nora's mind. "Seriously?"

Laurel shrugged and locked eyes with Nora. "It's a better explanation than the one you're going off on." She raised her voice a little bit, and Nora got the impression that the customers were listening intently. "Why would I do something so awful?"

Nora shook her head. "Fine. Fine, don't admit it. I'll just buy another pair on my way to the race."

Laurel smirked and tipped her head toward the clock. "At this hour?"

Nora glanced at the clock on the wall. "Shit," she muttered under her breath. It was ten to six; there was no way she could make it for her starting time, even if she could fly. _And Laurel has a point; there aren't any stores that are open this early._

For a few heartbeats, she stood there, frozen and dejected, watching the second hand tick on the clock. Finally, she sighed deeply and pulled her apron off the hook. "You win," she said softly to Laurel as she started to make the next order. Laurel didn't say anything, but a satisfied smile spread across her face.

Nora was sure that the girl had hidden her shoes, but what could she do? Her hands were shaking as she made a series of drinks, but as long as Laurel staunchly denied that she knew anything about the shoes, Nora realized she was wasting her breath. The minutes ticked by, and Nora sank more deeply into her misery. She was just about ready to lose it altogether and start crying into the espresso when a familiar voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Why the long face?"

Nora looked up and met Colleen's steady gaze. "Nothing, really." She said, trying and failing to brighten her tone.

"I'm surprised to see you here today," Colleen answered. "Isn't it the half marathon?"

Nora nodded, surprised the old women knew that. "I was planning to run it," she admitted, darting a glare at Laurel's back, "but now I can't."

"They wouldn't give you the day off?" Colleen clucked her tongue sympathetically.

"No, it's not that." Nora paused, wondering if she should tell Colleen the truth. "My shoes are missing," she finally admitted. "Laurel—Laurel thinks somebody stole them."

To Nora's surprise, Colleen smiled. "Easiest fix in the world." She pulled out her cell phone, peering across the counter at Nora's feet. "What size do you wear, dear?"

"Um, seven," Nora said, staring at the woman. "What are you going to do?"

Colleen ignored her, turning around and speaking rapidly into the phone. Nora thought she caught the store address, but she couldn't hear what else the older woman said. When she hung up, she faced Nora with a triumphant smile. "You'll be on your way in no time."

Nora shook her head. "There's no way for me to get another pair of shoes at this hour, and by the time the stores open, the race will be over."

Colleen winked at her. "Nothing is impossible if you know the right people. I just called my son, and he'll be bringing you a new pair of shoes momentarily."

"Your son?" Nora asked, feeling stupid. "What does he have to do with all this?"

Colleen chuckled. "He owns Uptown Sports. Took it over a few years ago after his father passed away."

Another customer coughed loudly, and Nora started making the next order, never taking her eyes off Colleen. "I still don't understand," she finally admitted.

The older woman's eyes sparkled. "I made him open the store and grab a pair of our best running shoes in a seven. He should be here any minute."

Nora stared at her, astonished. "Seriously? She managed to squeak.

Before Colleen could answer, the door to the café opened and a guy carrying a big shoe box hurried in. Colleen waved him over and pointed to Nora, and the man handed her the box with a smile.

"Mom said you're running the half today. Good luck!"

Nora stared at him, her mouth open. "But," she began, looking at the box of expensive shoes in her hand, "how can I pay for these? Should I come by the store after the race?"

Colleen and her son laughed, and the man shook his head. "When Mom tells me we're giving away a pair of shoes, I don't ask questions."

"They're a gift?" Nora asked, feeling stupid. "But this is too much!"

Colleen raised her eyebrow. "Do you want to run the half or not?"

Nora's hands tightened around the box. "I want to run. I've been training for months!"

The older woman nodded. "Then get those things laced up and stop standing here arguing about whether or not you can accept the gift."

A wide smile stretched across Nora's face, but then she glanced at the clock, and her heart fell. It was already seven thirty. "I've missed my start time," she said, trying to hand the shoes back to Colleen's son.

Colleen rolled her eyes. "They'll let you start late as long as you registered before the deadline."

Nora's eyes widened. "Really? How do you know?"

Colleen's son laughed. "Mom's run her fair share of halfs over the years." He looked at the older woman with pride. "She's running the full this year."

Nora gaped at the woman. "I had no idea you ran!"

Colleen shrugged delicately. "You never asked. Now, hurry up and get those shoes on, and we'll drive you over to the race."

Ignoring Laurel's angry expression, Nora ripped off her apron and rushed around the counter, carrying the box of shoes with a huge smile. "I'll put them on in the car," she said, throwing her arms around Colleen. "I don't know how to thank you."

The older woman smiled. "You can thank me by running your fastest time today."

### CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Kingston's allergies hit a few days before the half marathon, and despite the antihistamines he was popping like candy, he seriously considered skipping the race. But quitting didn't come easy to him, except where women were concerned, so he laced up his running shoes and headed down town for his seven thirty start time.

The last race he'd run back in Texas had involved powdered paint and blasting music, and it had felt more like a rave than a run. The crowd at the starting line for the half marathon was a lot more subdued, but a heightened sense of energy filled the air, and Kingston started to look forward to the run despite his sinuses.

Even though it was technically spring, the early morning air was still chilly, and Kingston wondered fleetingly if he'd ever get used to weather in New York. After admitting to his sister that he was thinking about leaving, he'd started to tentatively scope out the transfer situation at work, but things weren't looking good; his work at the New York office had been noticed by folks higher up the food chain than Mr. Fitz, and after a few innocent questions about locations and opportunities, Kingston got the impression that the bank would fight to keep him in New York.

There _was_ something about the place, Kingston realized as he joined the crush of runners at his start time. It might not be the fairy tale of his youth, but when he ran down 42nd street and realized that the electric billboards surrounding Times Square were still flashing, even in the pre-dawn hours, he grinned broadly. _This is what drew me here,_ he thought as he tried to keep his pace steady. _The lights, the grit...there's nowhere quite like it._

The course looped through the city, and Kingston thought it just might be the best way to see New York; the streets, famous for their traffic and noise, were strangely silent with all the traffic blocked off. The only sounds Kingston could hear were the cheers from the spectators lining the course, the pounding of the feet surrounding him, and the beating of his own heart.

He tried to catch his breath, but it was hard to remember to breathe through the smile plastered on his face, and he noticed similar expressions on some of the other race participants. The streets still smelled like smoke and car exhaust, even without the traffic, but Kingston breathed it all in with a ridiculous grin. His feet pounded into the asphalt, and he imagined that he could feel the thrumming pulse of the city with every step he took.

Kingston had no idea how many people had run the half that morning, but he felt like he was connected to each and every person there; they'd all been witnesses to the surge of emotion he'd felt while he was running around Manhattan, and that intimacy made Kingston feel like all the other runners were his closest friends and family.

By the time he reached the finish line, he felt like his chest was about to burst open, but it wasn't strictly due to exertion. Despite his allergies, despite his wounded heart, despite everything, Kingston had fallen back in love that morning, and this time, he didn't think he'd be falling out any time soon.

This time, he'd fallen in love with the city.

### CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Colleen's son had arrived in a private car with a driver, but Nora was too excited about the race to really enjoy the thrill of riding through New York behind tinted glass. When they pulled up to the park, Nora popped onto the curb and bounced on her toes.

"These feel great," she said, grinning at Colleen and her son. "Seriously the best shoes I've ever had."

Colleen smiled. "I know it's not ideal to run in a brand new pair, but I'd hate to think of you missing your first half."

Her son passed a stack of Band-Aids to Nora. "You might want these, just in case."

She smiled and tucked them into her arm band. "Thank you. And thank you both so much; I still can't believe I actually get to race today!"

Colleen and her son smiled matching smiles as Colleen leaned over to close the door. "You deserve to make your dreams come true. Now, go run like you've never run before!"

Nora waved and hurried over to the registration table. The crowd was considerably smaller than she expected, and she wondered if most of the other runners had started earlier. A woman at the table looked up at her and motioned her forward with a smile.

"Hi," Nora began, rocking back and forth in her new shoes. "I was registered to start at six, but, um, I had a work emergency."

"Happens all the time. Name?"

"Nora Willson." Nora held her breath, but the woman just skimmed the list and smiled.

"Here's your number," she said, passing a square of paper across the table to Nora. "You can start in the next group; they'll be going in five minutes. Is that okay?"

Nora grinned. "Perfect!" She pinned the number to her shirt and moved over to one side. She was too keyed up to do any kind of pre-race stretching, but she figured she'd take it slow, just like with the running group, and treat the first mile or so as a warm up. When the group lined up, Nora was in the front, a wide smile on her face.

It was strange for her to be running in the park in daylight; she'd gotten so used to her midnight runs that she might as well have been running in a totally new place, and her eyes drank in the springtime scenery. Trees that had looked like skeletons at night actually had green buds on their limbs, and a few early birds were singing, despite the chill of winter that still lingered in the air. Nora kept an easy pace, focusing on the familiar sound of her feet on the asphalt and ignoring the speed of the other runners around her. Instead of looping the park twice, the route veered off into the city, and tall buildings flashed by as Nora ran along the barricaded streets. People lined the path of the race, cheering and waving to their friends, but Nora was too focused to really notice them.

Her left foot felt like it was starting to blister by the time Nora finally neared the finish line, but she ignored the sharp pain and pushed herself for one final sprint. A race volunteer ran up to her with a cup of water as soon as she cleared the finish line, and Nora swallowed it quickly before bending over to catch her breath. Her lungs felt like they might burst, and her feet hurt in the unfamiliar shoes, but Nora was exhilarated. _I really did it!_ She thought, sucking in air and starting to look around the finish line.

Someone barreled into her, and Nora let herself be pulled into a tight hug. "There you are!" Carl grinned at her. "I was worried you broke your leg or something."

Nora shook her head, sweat dripping into her eyes. "No, just lost my shoes."

Before she could tell him about her morning, she caught sight of Lynne and some of the other midnight runners over his shoulder. Carl let go of her, and she hurried over to the group.

When Lynne saw her, she grinned. "You finished!"

"You, too!" Nora said, raising her hand to give her five. "God, that feels good."

Lynne laughed. "That running high never gets old."

Nora nodded as she caught her breath. "How was your time?"

Lynne's smile stretched wider. "My personal best. What about you?"

"I haven't checked yet," Nora admitted. "I just got done."

"Well, don't let me stop you! We're still waiting on a few more from the group, but then we're all going out to celebrate. You in?"

Nora nodded. "Of course! I'll be back as soon as I check my time."

Pushing her way through the crowd of weary runners and their friends and family, Nora finally spotted the table with the race officials, but a pair of familiar broad shoulders made her falter. Kingston was standing there, his back to her, and for one moment, Nora actually considered skipping it and not finding out her race time. She hadn't seen him since their odd confrontation at the coffee shop, and she wasn't sure she could handle another rude encounter with him. _But this might be your last chance to see him_ , a little voice whispered in her mind, and her heart clenched at the thought.

Squaring her shoulders, she made her way to the table, but she didn't bother checking her time. Standing on the tips of her toes, she tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned around, but his smile slipped when he saw Nora. "You made it," he said, his twang sounding flat.

Nora nodded, suddenly shy. "You, too." She bit her lip, but then she took a deep breath. "I need to tell you something."

Kingston shook his head and stepped away from the table. "You really don't. It's all in the past."

"But I--," Nora stuttered, "I can't stop thinking about you!"

Kingston paused, his gray eyes searching hers. "Why?"

She hesitated. "I've thought about you ever since we met. At the coffee shop," she added.

He raised his eyebrow. "You admit that was you?"

"I never denied it," she said. "I just didn't think you meant me."

He put his hand under her chin and tipped her face up. "Why wouldn't I mean you, Nora? You're enough to set any man's heart racing."

Her mouth was dry. "That's just the half marathon," she tried to joke, but the words sounded stilted. Kingston's hand lingered on her face, and his touch was making it hard for her to think straight.

Kingston shook his head. "No, hon, that's just you." He leaned closer to her, and for one breathless moment, Nora thought he was about to kiss her, but then he pulled back, dropping his hand. "But what about your boyfriend?"

Nora laughed nervously. " _Not_ my boyfriend; Carl's my best friend."

"It sure looked like you were clinging to him," Kingston said, his face unsure.

Nora reached up tentatively and wrapped her hands around his neck. "I've known Carl all my life," she said, slowly and deliberately. "He's the best friend I've ever had, but we've never dated. And," she added thoughtfully, "if all goes well, he'll be back together with Reggie soon."

Kingston raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me that all this time, you were available?" His hands circled her waist, and Nora tightened her grip on the back of his neck.

"No," she said softly, "all this time I was waiting to be yours."

He claimed her lips before she could say anything else, and Nora melted into the kiss. Pressing her sweaty body against him, Nora kissed him back for all she was worth as his hands slid down to cradle her hips, tugging her more firmly against him. Tangling her hands in his hair, Nora broke the kiss and pulled back to look into Kingston's gray eyes for a moment, and she smiled before pressing her lips to his again.

This is so much better than anything I could have dreamed.

Dear Reader,

I've always been a bit obsessed with fairy tales, and I'm having so much fun coming up with new ways to imagine the magic of some of my favorite stories with the _Once Upon a Desire_ series. I decided to start with "Cinderella" since that story is one with the most wide-spread appeal: did you know that there are over three hundred versions of this fairy tale from all over the globe?

If you enjoyed Nora and Kingston's story, I hope you'll consider leaving a review of _Midnight Run_ at your favorite eBook retailer. Your feedback is important to me, and your thoughts might help other readers who are thinking about starting this series. If you've got a chance, visit my website to learn more about the series, and my other books.

There are plenty of fairy tales that inspire me, and there are two other books in this series: _Cut Loose_ and _Princess Suite._

Here's to happily ever after!

Best,

Jen <3
Discover other titles in the Once Upon a Desire series by Jen McConnel:

### MIDNIGHT RUN

### CUT LOOSE

### PRINCESS SUITE

### Read the complete collection today!

