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happento be working at the moment. That didn’t work for us before. Why take a chance on hurting each other again?”
    He held her gaze, his expression earnest. “It’s taken me fifteen long years, Meggie, to figure out everything I did wrong when we were married. Don’t let all that soul-searching go to waste.”
    She smiled at the idea of Mick soul-searching. He was the kind of man who seized the moment, who went through life on bluster and gut instinct. “Soul-searching, huh?”
    He grinned then. “Swear to God.”
    The appeal of that grin reminded her of the way it had been between them when they first met, with Mick persuading her to do a thousand little things that went against her better judgment. Thank heaven most of the risks had been to her heart, because he could probably have talked her into skydiving with that charming way of his and she’d have wound up breaking every bone in her body. Then, again, a broken heart took longer to heal.
    She tried her brisket but had no appetite left. Like Mick, she pushed the plate aside, knowing she’d hear about that from Joe later. The only thing he clucked over more than her social life was her habit of merely picking at her food.
    “How about this?” she said eventually. “Maybe we can see each other from time to time, the way you said, but let’s not call it a second chance or starting over or anything like that. We’ll just be two old friends getting together, enjoying the moment.”
    He sat back, his expression a bit smug, clearly counting her response as a victory. “You can call it whatever you want,” he agreed. “Now, how about coming home with me tomorrow? Ma says there’s a problem with Bree. She thinks we might need to rally the troops.”
    Megan saw right through him. Give the man an inch and he took not just a mile, but the entire interstate between NewYork and Chesapeake Shores. “I’m not going home with you,” she said flatly.
    “Not even if your daughter needs you?” he asked, not even attempting to mask his disappointment.
    “Let’s just say I’ll need confirmation on that from someone other than you,” she retorted.
    “You don’t trust me?”
    She laughed at his indignation. “Not from here to the corner.”
    He shrugged, looking sheepish. “It was worth a try,” he said. “And Ma really is worried about Bree.”
    “Then she or Bree can call me and fill me in,” she said, not relenting. “Though Bree has never been in the habit of confiding in me.”
    “I think that’s part of the problem,” Mick said, his expression thoughtful. “Bree’s not in the habit of confiding in anyone.”
    She frowned at his tone and his surprising insight. “You’re really concerned, aren’t you?”
    He nodded. “I’ve learned to listen to Ma. When she says something’s wrong, it usually is.”
    “Then call me and fill me in once you have a better idea of what the problem is. If Bree really does need me, then of course I’ll come.”
    “I’ll tell her you said that,” he promised. “Now, I’d better head for the airport and see if I can still get a flight yet tonight.”
    The sharp stab of disappointment she felt at the meal being cut short was a warning. She might think she had control of the situation, but that was far, far from the truth. Once Mick O’Brien got an idea in his head, he was all but impossible to ignore or dissuade. Especially for a woman who still had a soft spot in her heart for him.
     

3
     
    J ake was very glad the job he was on required hard, backbreaking labor. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before, thanks to that near miss with Bree. He’d worried that Connie could be right, that Bree might be staying in Chesapeake Shores. Then he’d worried even more that she might leave again. Nobody could ever suggest that his life was ruled by logic, he thought dryly.
    He trimmed back another boxwood in a bedraggled hedge so his equipment could get a better grip to yank it from the ground. His broad, tanned