basis. He’d been head over heels, hormone driven, wildly in lust with her. Everything about her reduced him to shivering need.
The smell of her hair. The dimple in her cheek when she smiled. The way her breasts filled out a sweater. Even the tiny gap between her two front teeth had charmed him. He would have given his family’s entire fortune for the chance to spend one night with her. To lose himself in her soft, beautiful body and show her how much he cared.
But Ellie Porter and her twin brother, Kirby, had been his two best friends in the whole wide world. So Conor had kept his daydreams to himself, and never once had he let on to Kirby that he thought of Ellie as far more than a pal, even after he’d finally kissed his buddy’s sister.
She’d been popular in high school. A long list of guys had panted after her. Probably even entertained the same fantasies that kept Conor awake and hard at night. Each time she went out with a new date, Conor suffered. He wanted to be the one to hold doors for her and put an arm around her in the movie theater and walk her home on warm, scented summer nights.
But though he and Ellie had shared an undefinable something that went beyond mere friendship, Ellie had disapproved of Conor’s risk-taking. Her rejection of an integral part of his personality had ended anything romantic almost before it began.
He’d often wondered what might have happened if the Porters had stayed in Silver Glen. Would Conor ever have persuaded Ellie to give him another chance? It was a question with no answer. And now they had both moved on. Ellie was married. Conor was still the guy who pitted himself against danger to prove he was alive.
Loud laughter at the table behind him startled him out of his reverie. The Silver Dollar Saloon was a rowdy place on the weekends. His brother Dylan owned the upscale honky-tonk. It wasn’t unusual to see the second-born Kavanagh behind the bar dispensing drinks and advice and jokes along with the pretzels and booze.
Dylan was an extrovert and a people person. He’d settled down a lot since marrying Mia and adopting little Cora. You might even call him a family man. But he still loved the Silver Dollar.
Conor couldn’t blame him. It was the kind of place where everybody knew your name. Locals and tourists alike were drawn to its atmosphere of camaraderie and fun. The music was good, the service above par and the burgers legendary.
Dylan made his way down to the end of the bar and stood in front of Conor, raising an eyebrow at the half-empty bottle of beer Conor had been nursing for the better part of an hour. “I’m losing money on you,” he said. “You’re not eating, you’re not drinking. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in love.”
Conor finished off his beer and grimaced. “God forbid. Just because you’re all gaga over marital bliss doesn’t mean the rest of us have to follow suit. I’m perfectly happy as a single man. I like my freedom.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Dylan’s smug assurance was designed to get a rise out of Conor, but it didn’t work. Because deep down, Conor knew it was the truth. He’d seen his older brothers, one by one, succumb to Cupid’s mischief, and the reality of the situation was, they were all happier than Conor had ever seen them.
Liam and Zoe, Dylan and Mia, Aidan and Emma. Even Gavin, who was a hermit and a curmudgeon at times, had been tripped up by the gorgeous and bubbly Cass.
So, yeah...it was hard to overlook the self-satisfied arrogance of his siblings, who were getting laid on a nightly basis. They practically oozed testosterone and caveman triumph.
But what really got to Conor was the look in their eyes when they were with their wives. When they thought no one was watching. Those moments when the alpha males softened and Conor could see the wealth of love that bonded each man with his spouse. That kind of connection was rare and wonderful and Conor would be lying if he said he wasn’t the tiniest bit envious.
It wasn’t in the cards for Conor, though. The one female who had ever inspired such a depth of feeling in him had dealt him a rejection that was very personal. Ellie had disapproved of his love for courting danger. In spite of his attempt to be honest with her and to explain why skiing was so important to him, he’d lost her, anyway.
Ellie had wanted Conor to change who he was. She’d begged him to be more careful. And in the end, she had stood by his hospital bed with sorrow in her eyes and told him they didn’t have a future, because he loved the rush of adrenaline more than he cared about her.
* * *
Even then he had seen the truth in her words. As a child, he’d suffered from a respiratory ailment that kept him confined indoors. Once he finally outgrew the problem, he’d been determined to prove himself. He was driven to be the fastest and best at everything he did.
That blind determination to be number one had cost him.
Life was full of regrets. He should know. A man had to move forward or be forever cemented in the past. Personally and professionally, he’d had plenty of opportunities to learn that lesson the hard way.
Dylan handed him a menu. “Buy something. Flirt with someone. You’re giving the place a bad vibe.”
With a reluctant grin, Conor shook his head. “God forbid that you should let your brother hang out undisturbed. Bring me a Coke and a cheeseburger, damn it.”
Dylan nodded, his attention drawn to the two men arguing heatedly at table six. “That’s more like it.”
When Dylan strode away to break up the potentially violent situation, Conor watched the interaction with admiration. Somehow his brother managed to steer both men to the front door and outside without causing a fuss. The Silver Dollar didn’t tolerate brawls.
While Conor waited for his food, he flipped through messages on his cell phone and frowned, not really seeing any of them. What would happen if he simply showed up at Ellie’s front door and said hello? Would she look the same? Would he like her as much?
They hadn’t seen each other in thirteen years, or was it fourteen by now? She wouldn’t be sixteen anymore. So why did he still see her that way? It made no sense. All he was doing was torturing himself with one of those weird good-old-days memories that never held up under scrutiny.
Like the octogenarian who goes back to his childhood home only to find a strip mall where he used to play, Conor was keeping alive something that wasn’t even real. Memories were not bad things. As long as you realized that the only truth was the moment you were living right now.
His accident years ago had cost him a skiing career. And had erased any possibility of having Ellie Porter in his life. Those two facts were irrefutable.
And what about Kirby? Conor and Kirby had been closer than brothers. They had studied together and played sports together and dreamed dreams together. Both of them had had big plans for the future. But their bond had been broken by something as mundane as Kirby’s parents taking him to another hemisphere.
Could a friendship like that be resurrected? Only time would tell...but Conor hoped so.
He finished his meal and yawned despite the fact that it was not even ten o’clock yet. He’d been up at dawn. Had worked his ass off all day. He was the boss. He owned the Silver Mountain Ski Resort. But idle living had never suited him. Maeve Kavanagh had raised seven sons, mostly unassisted, and in spite of the Kavanagh fortune and the family’s influence and reach in the town of Silver Glen,
