"I wish you all the best. No hard feelings." She followed him to the door, catching a whiff of his unique scent as he put on his jacket. "Say h.e.l.lo to Josey and Wyatt for me."

"I will. Thanks for being-"

"Understanding?" She searched for some spark in his eyes, any shred of evidence that he'd heard what she'd said. But they held only a flat kind of resignation. The shutters were drawn tight. "I'm not understanding. I just know when I'm wasting my breath."

He nodded, kissed her forehead and left. The tears didn't start until after she shut and locked her door. That's when it hit her. This was the last time she'd ever see her handyman, and she still loved him every bit as much today as she had two weeks ago. "Big stubborn idiot."

Sniffling, tears running down her cheeks, she headed for her fridge. A bottle of chardonnay left over from the open house called to her, and she wasn't about to ignore the summons. Having Sam in her house tonight, listening to him explain why they couldn't be together was like losing him all over again. A gla.s.s of wine, maybe two, mindless TV and bed-that was her plan for the rest of this disastrous evening.

Thank G.o.d tomorrow was Friday, and she only had to get through one more day at work before she had the weekend to mourn in the privacy of her own home. Maybe she'd meet an emotionally available someone online to chat with-anything to take her mind off Sam Haney, the most stubborn, wrong-thinking, commitment-phobic handyman in the Twin Cities.

She reached into her new cabinet for a winegla.s.s. Sam's stupid plastic bowl tucked into the corner beneath caught her eye. Dammit. One more link when all she wanted was for this to be over so the healing could begin.

Sighing, she poured herself a gla.s.s of wine, filling it to the rim. Tomorrow she'd call Haney & Sons and leave a message for Josey. Until then, she didn't want to look at the bowl. Wasn't it bad enough she'd live with reminders of Sam in her house every day?

Haley grabbed Sam and Josey's bowls and stomped to the breezeway. She placed them on the stacked plastic chairs she stored there over the winter. Done. Josey would pick them up, and that would be the end of the Sam Haney chapter of her life.

Still a weepy mess, she returned for her gla.s.s of wine and grabbed a few paper towels as well. A comfy spot on her couch, a nice cozy throw over her lap, and she settled in for her own personal pity party. She picked up the remote control and searched for something on TV. One night of feeling sorry for herself was all she'd allow, and then she'd start a new chapter, hopefully one that didn't lead to more heartache.

Sam pulled his van into his spot at Haney & Sons and cut the engine. He sat for a minute and stared through the windshield. Seeing Haley last night had done him in. His arms and legs still had the consistency of overcooked spaghetti noodles. His weakened state might have something to do with a lack of sleep and a lack of protein, but both of those problems were Haley related. So, yeah, his plug had been pulled, and he'd been drained of every last ounce of energy.

If he kept this up, he'd be a boneless blob soon. Wyatt could turn him into one of his cartoon characters. Blob Man. What would his evil superpower be? Breaking hearts? I have feelings too, and you've hurt them. Haley's words refused to leave him in peace. They'd kept him up all night, left fresh score marks on his heart and a load of guilt squatting in his gut.

He'd better eat something, or he wouldn't be able to work. Maybe someone brought pastries this morning. He climbed out and headed for the kitchen and his a.s.signments for the day. Now that the custom house had been completed, he'd been put back on the handyman roster. So far he'd been lucky, and his clients had been elderly couples with simple maintenance jobs they wanted done.

Was Grandpa Joe giving him those kinds of a.s.signments on purpose? Gramps still liked to do things the old-fashioned way, handing out jobs in person. It would be so much easier if they switched to tablets. An e-mail with an address first thing in the morning, and he wouldn't have to see anybody. After all, that's how they coordinated their contracted workers, but then the contract workers already owned tablets. Convincing Grandpa Joe to buy technology for Haney & Sons would take a miracle.

"Hi, S-Sam." Jerry smiled as he hung his coat on the coat tree in the corner.

"Hey, Jerry. How's it hanging?" Nope, not even a stale doughnut on the table. He'd have to do a drive-through on his way to his first job, grab a breakfast sandwich and eat it on the way.

"It's h-hanging. Want to see a movie with me t-tonight, Sam?"

"Absolutely, let's hang out. I'd like that."

"I miss h-hockey."

"Me too. Hopefully, we'll do better in the tournament next year. In the meantime, we have hockey camp to look forward to." He took a seat at the table. "I'll come get you at your house around five thirty. Choose a movie sometime today."

"Brrr, I hate winter." Josey stomped through the door, shivering and rubbing her arms. "Good morning, Jerry, Sam. Where is everybody?"

"D-dad and Grandpa are checking phone messages," Jerry told her. "Wyatt is in the bathroom."

"Thanks for the Wyatt update," Josey said with a snort. "You OK, Sam? You don't look so good." She tugged off her mittens and came at him with a hand outstretched, like she intended to feel his forehead.

He leaned out of her reach. "Yeah, I'm fine, just fighting something, I guess." Heat crept up his neck. He was fighting something all right, but it had nothing to do with germs. "A cold maybe, and it's wearing me out."

Hurt happens, but so do love and happiness. He shook his head, attempting to dislodge Haley's voice from his mind. That last bit should be in one of those positive affirmation books, or better yet, made into a b.u.mper sticker. Add a stick figure family at the end, tweak to read s.h.i.t happens, but so do love and happiness, and it would be perfect.

Grandpa Joe walked into the kitchen, a clipboard and a few yellow message sheets in his hand. Wyatt strolled in behind him. "Here are today's jobs," Gramps said, putting the clipboard on the table. "And a few leads for estimates." He handed out the messages to each of them. Josey read one of hers, raised her head and scowled at Sam.

"What?" Had she gotten a lead from one of his pre-radio-show clients, and it included a coded phrase or something?

"Nothing." She moved to the clipboard and paged through the sheets until she found hers. She tugged it out from under the clip and left.

Sam studied his. Simple. Leaky faucets, clogged drains, install a new ceiling fan, nothing too challenging. Scanning his jobs, he mentally arranged them in order to minimize mileage and bring him the closest to his apartment at the end of the day. He'd change, and head to his uncle Dan's house for Jerry.

Regretting the lack of doughnuts, he headed out the door in search of the nearest Mickey D's before giving his first client a call. He was driving to his first job when his phone rang with Josey's ringtone. He hit the Speaker b.u.t.ton on his phone. "What do you need, Jo?"

"h.e.l.lo to you too. I don't need anything. I called to see if we could meet at The Bulldog after work."

"Not tonight. I promised I'd take Jerry to see a movie."

"How about lunch at Keys then? We could meet around one."

"I could do that. Which one? Lexington or Raymond Avenue?"

"Lexington. Text me if we need to change the time. See you."

She ended the call before he could respond. Even for Josey that had been abrupt. Something must be bugging her. He pulled up to the curb in front of his job. He'd be installing a ceiling fan in the family room of a two-story home. A daycare sign in the yard caught his eye, and the tension he hadn't known he carried, eased. The homeowner would be occupied. Grandpa Joe was obviously filtering the jobs he a.s.signed to him.

"Thank you, Gramps." He wasn't in the mood to fend off advances. Would he ever be in the mood again? Maybe not now, but dammit, he'd been happy before Loaded Question aired. At least, he'd thought he'd been. Could he be happy again if he went back to the strings-free, recreational safe-s.e.x lifestyle? Worth thinking about, anyway.

He worked his way through the morning, finishing his third job in plenty of time to reach Keys Cafe. By the time he pulled into the lot of the strip mall, Josey's and Wyatt's vans were already there. Josey hadn't mentioned Wyatt, but no big deal. Sam parked and climbed out of his van, already mentally going through the menu to see if anything sparked his appet.i.te.

The scent of baked goods and burgers frying on the grill enveloped him. He caught sight of Wyatt and Jo sitting in a booth toward the rear of the cafe, and made his way toward them. Josey slid out of the seat, gesturing for him to sit on the inside. OK, that was different, but maybe she had somewhere to go soon. "Hey, how's the day going for you two?" he asked, sliding into the booth and picking up a menu.

Josey sat back down. "Fine, Sam. How about you?"

Both of them were eyeing him intently. "What?"

"This is an intervention," Wyatt informed him. "We're concerned about you. You've lost weight, you have dark circles under your eyes, and we haven't seen you smile since Haley's open house."

"You look like s.h.i.t," Josey added with a nod.

"Come on." Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not doing drugs or abusing alcohol, if that's what's worrying you two mother hens."

"Not that kind of intervention," Josey said, sliding one of Grandpa Joe's yellow messages toward him. "What happened?"

Frowning, Sam s.n.a.t.c.hed up the sc.r.a.p of paper and scanned it. Haley's name, the date the call came in and the time were all filled out in Grandpa Joe's familiar scrawl.

Haley Cooper called and said you and Sam left your bowls at her house.

They're in the breezeway. She wants you to pick them up ASAP.

"Oh." All the air left his lungs. He could insist it was none of their business, but they'd peck at him until he caved. No wonder Josey had sat on the outside. She'd blocked his escape. Their server appeared then, giving Sam time to avoid the topic. "I'll have the grilled cheese, tomato and bacon sandwich with chips and a cup of tomato soup," he said, stacking his menu on top of Wyatt's and Jo's. "And a c.o.ke."

While his keepers ordered, he contemplated how much he had to share to satisfy them. The minimum. The two turned back to him the second the server walked away. Best to get this over with. "Things ended with Haley before they went too far," Sam told them.

"How far is too far in your world, Sam?" Wyatt asked. "You stayed at Haley's the night of her open house. Was it to explain your aversion to emotional intimacy and end things there, or did you wait until after you'd slept with her?"

Sam's jaw clenched. "That's none of your business."

"I've got to say this, because I'm your brother and I love you. The way you treat women really bothers me. It's wrong. You have some serious issues." Wyatt's jaw muscles ticked away. "You said you weren't going to cross the line with Haley. You said you wouldn't hurt her."

"Hey, in case you haven't noticed, I'm the one with the circles under my eyes and no appet.i.te," he snapped. "Haley looks great. Got her hair cut short and everything. She didn't appear to be suffering last Thursday night when I went to see her."

"She dumped you?" Jo reached out and patted his arm. "Oh, G.o.d. We had it all wrong. I'm sorry, Sam. We could see how into her you were, and we hoped-"

"No." He squirmed, unable to look either of them in the eye. "I had a panic attack the night of her party, well, early the morning after, actually. I had to get out of there, and I left in a big fat hurry without telling her what was going on. I went back to apologize and to explain. We left it there with no hard feelings." His chest tightened. "I never meant to hurt her, and yeah, she got to me, but . . ." He shook his head. "I can't do the relationship thing." His brother and sister shared a long look.

"Sam, do you remember how it was with Mom and Dad, how they were with each other?" Josey asked.

He nodded.

"Me too," Wyatt said, his tone wistful. "Even when they disagreed about something, it was crystal clear they loved each other."

"Exactly." Josey sighed. "I remember our house being filled with happiness. They made each other laugh, and they were always hugging and kissing-each other and us. I want that again, which is why I keep looking for Mr. Right. How can you not want what we had as kids?"

"Haley was great, Sam. We liked her a lot," Wyatt added. "With her, you could've had what our parents had. It was obvious you two were falling for each other. Don't you want a family for yourself? I know I do."

Sam's eyes burned, and he kept his gaze fixed on the table.

"Do you think if Mom or Dad were here right now, either one of them would say they regretted the love they'd shared, even though it meant one of them would suffer losing the other first?" Jo asked. "What do you think they'd say about the way you keep that heart of yours locked away? It's like you're betraying what they taught us through their example."

"I'm not betraying anything. You don't know what it's like for me," he rasped out. "The panic attacks . . ."

Wyatt tugged at his sweatshirt's hoodie on his head. "Right. No possibility of understanding here," he said with a grunt.

"Look, I appreciate what you two are trying to do here, but it's over. Haley would never take me back now anyway."

"You don't know that." Josey shot him an exasperated look. "Do you love her?"

"I'm afraid so." And it wasn't the kind of love that would fade with time either. His was the kind of love that robbed him of sleep, stole his breath and gave him no peace.

"Then do something about your panic attacks and go beg her for a second chance." Wyatt scowled at him. "What you're going through right now, the loss of appet.i.te and sleeplessness, listen to your body, because it's telling you turning away from Haley was the wrong thing to do. There are antianxiety meds for the panic attacks. Get a prescription already, talk to a shrink and get a life."

"I will if you will." Sam scowled back.

"If that's what it'll take, then make the appointment. We'll go see a shrink together."

"Thank G.o.d I'm well adjusted." Josey cracked a smile.

Wyatt laughed, and Sam couldn't help but grin. "You know what Haley calls memories? She says they're flotation devices, there to help keep us afloat through the tough times."

"Smart woman," Wyatt said. "Not to mention she's really pretty, and then there's the way she handles a sledgehammer."

Sam chuckled. "There is that." And so much more. "I'll think about it, and as lame as this intervention has been, I do appreciate your concern."

"Plus our support. Don't forget we're here to help." Wyatt smirked. "If you want, we can all go to Haley's house together. Jo and I will stand right behind you while you beg her to take you back."

"Humph." Their food came, and Sam forced himself to eat, while memories from his childhood bobbed around in his head. Happy memories of his mother and father and how secure he'd felt back then. He tried to imagine himself as a father, a husband. Haley had told him he'd make a great dad. We could be together. You haven't prevented anything, Sam, all you've done is cut yourself off . . .

What would his parents have to say about that? It was true; he had cut himself off. He'd made that choice long before he met Haley, and it had served him well. He'd been satisfied with his life, and now he was a wreck. What a mess.

He didn't know what to do, but he had a feeling he'd be up all night thinking again. If by chance he did manage to sleep, he was certain his dreams would be filled with Haley dressed in a superhero outfit, her sledgehammer at the ready and her face flushed with pa.s.sion. G.o.d, he missed her.

Chapter Sixteen.

Haley sat on her living room couch, Kathy beside her. Missing Sam was a constant dull ache, but it didn't do her any good to isolate herself. At the very least, the flirts and likes she got online gave her a distraction. "Thanks for volunteering to go through these profiles with me. I need your objectivity," Haley said, turning her laptop toward Kathy. "So what do you think of this guy? Rad7 and I have been chatting all week. He seems nice. He asked me to meet him for coffee, but I haven't replied yet."

Once she'd told her friends she'd joined an online dating site, the advice and support had poured in. Brent had even suggested he show up on her first meets and pretend he didn't know her, just to keep an eye on her to make sure she was safe. Haley smiled, grat.i.tude for the people in her life warming her heart.

"Hmm." Kathy took her computer and scrolled through Rad7's profile and their chat history. "He does seem nice, and he's cute." She kept reading. "He left the meeting place up to you. That's a good sign."

"I thought so too." If only her heart weren't still set on a certain carpenter with commitment issues. "Coffee with Rad7 it is, then." She tried to muster some enthusiasm for Rad7 and took the laptop back. She replied to his latest message, suggesting they meet at the Caribou Coffee on Grand and Oxford in Saint Paul. He wasn't online now, so she moved on to bachelor number two. "Here's the other guy I've been chatting with."

"BlueHeeler?" Kathy laughed. "You want to date another hound dog?"

Haley's stomach twisted at the reference to Sam. "This guy owns a Blue Heeler. If you check our chat history, you'll see where we talk about his dog. Besides, Sam is a horndog, not a hound dog."

"Well, BlueHeeler is definitely good looking."

The instant message pinged and the box popped up on the screen. Rad7 typed, "h.e.l.lo, Comet. Caribou works for me. How's Sunday afternoon around three?"

Haley glanced at Kathy.

"Go for it, Haley."

"Perfect. See you there," Haley typed back.

"Great! I'll wait for you outside by the door. I'd like to stay and chat, but I'm heading out with friends. I'm looking forward to meeting you tomorrow. Later, Comet."

"Me too. Later," she typed and he went offline.

"How'd you come up with Comet?"

She shrugged. "Halley's Comet. It's not easy to come up with a fake name." She went back to her recent flirts. Even though she'd specified an age range and nonsmokers only, she still got hits from men in their forties and fifties and guys who described themselves as social smokers. She skimmed the new profiles sent to her as matches. Delete, delete, delete.

"Have you heard anything more from Sam?"

She shook her head. "I don't expect to. Josey hasn't picked up the bowls either, which is strange. Maybe she didn't get the message. I suppose I could drop them off at their office."