The university had investigated and proved to their satisfaction that her accusations were false. But Ian left anyway, feeling his reputation had been irreparably damaged and it was better for everyone if he moved on.

Now he'd walked into a chemistry department rocked by a s.e.xual scandal from last semester. A female professor was accused of raping several male students over the years. She was awaiting trial. The student newspaper was full of the story. I would have liked a smoother start for him. Walking into a department in turmoil wasn't what Ian needed.

He laughed my concerns off. "Nothing to worry about. No one's written their phone number on their eyelids yet."

"Yeah, well, chem profs don't really have that Indiana Jones thing going for them anyway." I stared at him, wondering what my brother was up to. And why, now at semester, he'd decided to invade my university when he'd had other offers.

My major required a lot of chemistry cla.s.ses. Fortunately, I'd finished the last of them-biochemistry-last semester, neatly avoiding having to take any cla.s.ses from my older brother. I wondered if that had played into his consideration at all. He was now free to invade my territory without having me underfoot in cla.s.s and getting into the questionable ethics of having to grade his sister's work.

He claimed the university had offered him the most money and opportunity. It certainly presented the greatest challenges.

I shook my head. "Of all the universities in the world, you had to walk into mine, big bro."

"Still miffed about that?" He dug into his takeout carton.

"Not upset. Suspicious." I leaned toward him. "What are you up to? Besides spying on me for Mom."

"I'm not spying." He winked at me. "Why would I do that?"

I rolled my eyes. More likely he was here to protect and big brother me to death.

He laughed, becoming serious in the very next breath. "Come on, Mads. You're the only sibling I have. You can't blame me for wanting to protect you and get close to you. When I left for college, you were barely four. Do you even remember what it was like when I was at home?" He held my gaze steadily.

I tried not to look guilty. But the truth was, I had only sketchy memories, just s.n.a.t.c.hes of life with him before he left for college. Of him playing with me. Of going to his games. Of his pretty girlfriend, who looked like a princess in her prom dress. I wasn't good with a poker face. Too late I realized he could read my thoughts.

He nodded. "That's what I thought. It's just you, me, and Mom now. You can't blame me for trying to bond with you, baby sis. Before you're out in the big, bad work world and get too busy for me."

I swallowed hard, feeling guilty for not keeping up as much since I'd come to college. "I'll never be too busy for you!"

I hadn't known my brother was the sentimental type.

I wished he would find someone and get married. In elementary school, I'd dreamed of being an aunt by the time I was twelve and got my babysitting card. Watching a little niece or nephew like my friend Carly did had sounded so cool. Those childish hopes had been pretty much dashed. I remained the baby of the family.

He continued studying me. "Have you ever wondered why there's such a large gap between you and me? Fourteen years. I'm almost old enough to be your dad."

"A very young dad," I pointed out.

He smiled. "A scandalously young dad." He paused. "I was in high school when you were born. Mom and Dad were within a few years of being empty nesters. Why did they start over again?"

I laughed. "Because without me, there was a big hole in their lives."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that must be it." He paused again. "I'm serious, Mads. If you'd been an accident, I could see it."

He frowned like he was thinking over a puzzle. "But that wasn't the case. I remember them trying to get pregnant with you. All the medical procedures and Mom crying when they failed. It's no secret they got married because Mom was pregnant with me. Then they have a fourteen-year dry spell?"

I took a deep breath and shrugged. "Stop sounding like there was something strange going on. A conspiracy. You know as well as I do that Dad had cancer right after you were born. The treatment made him infertile. They had to go through years of infertility procedures to get me. And several miscarriages before I finally stuck."

He got that teasing look on his face. "I can't believe you bought that story. I've told you the truth a million times-you were left on our doorstep. When we heard you crying, I told Mom and Dad not to answer the door. That it would only mean trouble. Would they listen? No. They were too tender-hearted. Once they opened the door, they couldn't leave you out in the cold."

"Shut up. I am not adopted. And I don't believe that story anymore." I laughed. "But I am tenacious and strong-willed. That's why I'm here." I paused. "I look just like Mom and you know it."

"Yeah," he said, smiling at me. "But after all that time, why didn't they give up? By then, having another kid was like starting all over again with a second family."

I sighed. "You think too hard on things. If you're that curious, ask Mom."

He frowned. "I've tried. Numerous times. She gives me the same old vague answer. They wanted another child."

I shrugged. "Maybe that's the simple truth. It sounds reasonable to me."

He still looked skeptical. I froze with my chopsticks halfway to my mouth. "What? What are you thinking?"

"Nothing." He paused. "Mom wasn't exactly thrilled when I decided to take the position here. She wasn't her usual excited self when you decided to go here, either. Have you ever wondered why? Why doesn't she ever talk about her college experience?"

"Maybe because there's not much to tell." I'd never really thought much about it. "She dropped out after just a year and got married." I paused. "You think there's more to the story?"

He grinned. "There's always more to the story."

Now he was being evasive.

He reached for an egg roll and got a faraway look in his eyes. "Mads, you're here. Mom and Dad met here. Our family history is here. I have a gut feeling this is where I need to be right now. Does that sound crazy?"

Yeah, Ian was really my brother. Us and our intuition. At least we understood each other.

"No, not at all." I meant it.

He stared into his carton of orange chicken and then back up at me. "I miss Dad, Mads. Every day." His Adam's apple bobbed. "I feel close to him here. Like even though he's gone, I feel like I'll get to know him better here. The young Dad, the healthy Dad. The one Mom fell in love with."

I reached across the table and squeezed my brother's hand, fighting back a sudden welling of tears. Dad died my junior year in high school. Over four years ago. But we never stopped missing him.

"I can't argue with that. I'm here, too, because of him. I knew it would make him happy if I went to his alma mater."

I hesitated, weighing whether I should say what was on my mind. Thinking about Dad brought up the uncomfortable subject of Mom's new fiance. "Do you think Ken really makes Mom happy?"

Ian stared at me like he wasn't sure what I was asking. "Sure. I wouldn't have agreed to give her away if I had any doubts. Why?"

Ian was protective of Mom, too. If he wasn't concerned, maybe I was just imagining things.

"I don't know. I'm her maid of honor." I paused again, trying to phrase things so Ian wouldn't miss my point. "So I feel guilty for even saying it, but...it seems to me like she's settling."

Ian squeezed my hand and shook it a little. "Maddie, no one's going to replace Dad. You don't have to worry about that. Ken doesn't have to be like Dad for Mom to be happy. He's a good guy."

I couldn't help frowning. Ian kept misunderstanding. "Yes, but...he's steady and reliable, just like Mom has always told me I should look for. She's big into that. Like you can learn to love a reliable guy. But does she love him?"

Ian gave my hand one final squeeze and released it, frowning now, too. "I'm sure she does. They've been friends since she and Dad first married."

"Yes," I said. "I'm sure she loves him like a friend. But does she love him?"

"I'd rather not think about that." Ian did an exaggerated hate shiver and made a look of disgust.

I laughed at my brother's antics. I couldn't help myself. He always knew how to lighten the mood. But even though I was laughing, I still wondered. There was a part of me that wanted to see Mom fall in love, really in love. Like a giddy girl. She needed some sizzle in her life.

Ian was watching me. "Maddie? You're wearing your wishing look. What are you wishing for now?"

I shrugged. "Am I?"

Ian swore beneath his breath. "Come on, Mads. Don't make me guess."

"I just think Mom deserves to be swept off her feet once in her life. To be madly, pa.s.sionately in love."

His face clouded. "I didn't know you were such a romantic. Be careful what you wish for." He got a faraway look on his face.

I didn't understand him. What was wrong with him?

"You're just like Olivia," I said. "Too pragmatic. Now pa.s.s the moo shu pork."

Chapter 3.

Maddie I walked into cooking lab with a certain nervous antic.i.p.ation. And though I hated to admit it, Seth was the main cause of it. So maybe I was one of those girls who wanted a guy just like dear old dad. Or in this case, just like dear old older brother.

I'd been thinking about Seth for two days, wondering how I could be the tiniest bit attracted to him. Telling myself I wasn't. And yet I Facebook stalked him. Just to find out whether Kayla was his girlfriend or not.

His profile said he was single. Could I trust that? Maybe. But, you know, people lie on social media. For all kinds of reasons. He had some selfies of him and Kayla. And a few more pictures of him with her and a bunch of girls at the sorority house. When I checked out Kayla's profile, it said she was in a relationship with a guy named Eric. There you have it. My first impression of the two of them being a couple was wrong. If he was in a secret relationship, it wasn't with Kayla.

For all my nonchalance, I was still excited about seeing Seth in lab. And way too disappointed when I walked in and he wasn't there.

Lab was in a commercial-grade kitchen just like you see on the cooking reality shows on TV, but with a teaching station in the center of the room. The teaching station was a large stainless steel prep island with a sink and a mirror over it. There were four student prep stations around the kitchen, smaller versions of the teaching station, minus the mirror.

I was one of the first to arrive.

Chef Steven greeted me. "Pick a station, any station. You have your choice. Four people per."

I chose one near the door. It was closest to the refrigerators, proofing ovens, and salamander.

Chef Steven winked at me like he approved. I'd heard stories about him. He was self-effacing, humble given his considerable talents, but a perfectionist and taskmaster. A tireless worker. People swore he never slept.

His kitchen catered most university events. As part of the cla.s.s, we were required to work a minimum of thirty hours during the semester. Semester after semester his kitchen put out five-star-quality food with a staff of new students. He just got them trained and the semester ended and he started over. The myth of Sisyphus in action.

We'd had to buy a white chef coat embroidered with our names, and black chef caps. The black caps signified we were students learning the craft. The tall white hat had to be earned and was reserved for trained chefs.

I'd pulled my hair into a ponytail, as required for cla.s.s. But I'd applied my makeup with special care again. Primping for a guy who was not the one. But would be delicious to flirt with anyway.

I stuffed my ponytail under my cap. I was sliding on my chef's coat when Seth walked in. He grinned when he saw me. I smiled back, my heart beating way too fast in response to a guy who shouldn't have held my interest at all. I knew too much about him from Zach. Had heard too many funny stories about Seth and the Double Deltsies and his exploits with the girls.

Seth was a love-them-and-leave-them guy, according to Zach. A player. And I did not need a player. Or a hookup. Or a heartbreaker. Even though it would be a lovely sort of rebellion and I was tempted. What was it about bad boys, or even slightly naughty boys, that turned our heads?

He came right toward me. I was flattered. Right. Who wouldn't be? He dumped his backpack on the floor by my feet at my lab station. I'd been half afraid he wouldn't show up. And half afraid he would.

He gave me a slow up-and-down that would have been totally s.e.xist if his eyes hadn't been full of appreciation and it hadn't made my toes curl with the sensuality of it. "Nice outfit."

He grinned and showed off that single dimple as he pulled his chef jacket out of his backpack and slid it on. Seth Butler. I don't know why I found the name monogrammed on his chef jacket so appealing. If I got the urge to scribble it on my notebook over and over, I was going to have to punch myself.

As he reached for the b.u.t.tons of his white jacket, he looked at me like he'd suddenly just realized something, gasped, and made a look of mock horror. "Oh, no! Fashion faux pas." He leaned in so close that I caught a whiff of his cologne. "We're wearing the same outfit. You're going to have to change."

I laughed and pointed to my name on my chest. "No. Mine's a different label."

His gaze lingered on my chest. I guess I'd asked for it.

"I see the difference now." He laughed as he covered his thick, wavy hair with his black chef's cap. "How did you get here so fast? I have an eight o'clock. I ran all the way and you still beat me." A lock of his hair stuck out and his hat was c.o.c.ked at a rakish angle.

I reached over without thinking, straightened the cap, and tucked that errant lock beneath his floppy felt chef cap. Like I would have for Ian. "There. Better."

Was I flirting with him? I wasn't sure. I'd acted on impulse. I looked away and pulled my roll of knives out of my backpack and set them on the stainless steel table in front of me. "This is my first cla.s.s of the day."

"Okay, then. You get seat-saving duty."

Before I could respond, two other people-a guy and a girl, fellow hotel and business management majors that Seth knew-completed our cozy station of four.

The bell rang. Chef Steven called the cla.s.s to order and began our first lesson, ordering us to the fridge to get a selection of carrots and fresh vegetables.

"These will be your stations and your partners for the rest of the semester. A good kitchen staff learns to work together as a team. Your grades will reflect your team's efforts.

"First lesson-how to use the knives. How to chop and slice like a master chef." He pulled out a bunch of carrots and demonstrated while we watched him work in the mirror above.

I was clumsy with my chopping. Seth sliced and diced like a pro. I couldn't believe I was being out-sliced by a guy.

He kept glancing at me, looking like he was dying to help me. Like I was a chopping embarra.s.sment.

Finally, he set his knife down and came up behind me. "Here. Let me show you how it's done." He put his arms around me, and his hot hands over mine. "Curl your fingers so you don't chop them off." There was a grin in his voice, and his breath tickled my ear in the most delightful way.

He positioned the knife properly in my hand and guided my slices until I got the hang and the flow of it. Which I made sure to do extremely slowly. I wasn't usually a slow learner. But in this case...

"Very nice." He let go and stepped back to his place beside me.

I immediately missed the heat of his body next to mine and the way he'd had his arms around me. "And here I thought you were a short-order cook, not a master chef. That's what Zach told me."

"You were listening to a guy whose best dish, whose only dish, is scrambled eggs with cheese." Seth picked up his knife and rinsed it in the sink. "You can't believe everything Zach says." He stared at me like he meant about much more than cooking.

I was beginning to think Seth was right.

"What's your best dish?" I asked on impulse.