"Do you want me to take them to Haney & Sons? That way there's no chance you'll run into Sam."

"That's sweet, but no. I'm fine." Not really, but she'd fake it till fine became her reality. Meeting new men would help. That was the plan, anyway. At least she hadn't allowed herself to sink back into the isolation-from-men cave she'd been in after Michael left her for adventure. Haley, you are the adventure. How could Sam say that to her, and then just walk away? He'd certainly come across as sincere.

Sam had known exactly what to say to make her feel better. He'd been so sweet about bolstering her self-confidence, praising her efforts at home repair, telling her she was a G.o.ddess with a sledgehammer. Her heart gave a painful thud, and the back of her throat burned.

Being with Sam had been good for her, and no matter how much his rejection hurt, she didn't have a single regret. Well, other than the fact that they weren't together. Stupid stubborn man.

Haley parked her car a block away from the Caribou Coffee on Grand Ave. She checked her phone for time. Two minutes to three. Her nerves revved up. She got out of her car and surveyed the coffee shop. An older man stood by the curb smoking a cigarette, but there was no sign of Rad7.

Great. She hated being the first to arrive. It made her look a little too eager. Blowing out a breath, she crossed the street and walked toward Caribou, the rich scent of coffee filling the air. Maybe Rad7 wouldn't show. They hadn't exchanged phone numbers, so there'd be no way to let her know. Fine. If she got stood up, she'd buy herself a latte and a cookie and call it a day.

"Comet?" the older guy asked.

"Yes?" Confused, she glanced at him.

"It's me." He smiled, his teeth stained with nicotine. "Rad7."

She gaped. "No."

"Yeah."

"How old is your profile picture?" Too stunned to be polite, she gawked. His hair was graying and he had a paunch.

"It's a few years old."

More like fifteen or twenty. Incredible. What a jerk. "You smoke. I did put nonsmokers only in my preferences, and I also included an age range, twenty-five to thirty. You're well out of my range. Did you even read what I wrote in my profile?"

"Sure, but hey, everybody fudges the truth on those sites."

"I didn't. Does this work for you? Misrepresenting yourself, I mean." No way was she having coffee or anything else with him. If he lied about his age and whether or not he smoked, he'd lie about other things. Haley peeked at the ring finger on his left hand. Sure enough, that finger had the telltale indentation from a wedding ring recently removed. She wanted to give him a finger herself. "Never mind. I don't even want to know."

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. He reached for a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and lit up. "So, do you want coffee or what?"

"No thanks." She turned on her heel and marched back to her car, careful to make sure he didn't follow. Yuck. The minute she was safely in her car with the doors locked, she called Kathy.

"Hey," Kathy answered right away. "Why are you calling me? Aren't you on your date?"

"He lied about his age by twenty years." She huffed out a laugh. "Oh, my G.o.d, Kathy, he was so creepy, and I'm pretty sure he's married too." She started her car.

"I should have warned you about this, Haley. A lot of guys view online dating sites as a hookup place for s.e.x."

"So I've heard, but it still took me by surprise."

"I'm sure. Don't give up after one creep though."

"Is there a specific number of creeps I have to go through before I should give up?"

Kathy chuckled. "No, that's entirely up to you, but at least move on to bachelor number two and three. I know couples who've met online and are happily married now."

Haley wanted to put her head down on her steering wheel and weep. She missed Sam, dammit, and forcing herself to get out there to date because he'd dumped her made her angry at him and herself. Meeting new men to get over the one she'd fallen for didn't make sense after all. She swiped at the tears on her cheeks. "Are you just saying that, or is it true?"

"It's true. I swear. My cousin and her husband met on the same site you're on, and if you want, I'll introduce you to them."

"Not necessary. I believe you." She pulled a tissue from her jacket pocket and wiped her nose.

"Go home and make yourself a cup of tea. Then check your site. I'll bet you have a ton of new flirts, and one of them is bound to be a really great guy."

Doubtful. "Sounds like a plan. Thanks for being there for me."

"Always."

"Say hi to Blake. I'm glad things are working out for the two of you. At least one of us is happily involved. It gives me hope."

"It'll happen for you, Haley. I know it will."

Her vision misted over again. "Hope so." Haley scanned the avenue for any sign of Creepy Guy, relieved when she didn't see him. She and Kathy said their good-byes, and she pulled her car away from the curb. On to bachelors number two and three. She headed for home-where she'd be surrounded by reminders of Sam in every room. At least she had dinner at her folks to look forward to later, so she wouldn't be alone.

As she drove, the temptation to call Sam overwhelmed her. Maybe if she did, this time she'd come up with the right words to get through his irrational fears. He cared for her. He'd said as much, and she didn't doubt him. She wouldn't call him, though.

If he didn't want to work through things with her, nothing she said or did would make a difference. The best she could do was to focus on forgetting him. "Bring it, bachelor number two. Here's hoping your picture isn't twenty years old, and your profile isn't a lame attempt at fiction."

Sam pulled his van into the condo parking lot, the late afternoon sun nearly blinding him through the windshield. He flipped the visor down and found a spot to park. Gathering his clipboard, catalogs and tool belt, he thought of Haley. The St. Paul Winter Carnival had begun. Weeks ago he'd asked her to go with him to check out the ice sculptures. Did she remember? Did she ever think of him? She was on his mind twenty-four-seven.

After Wyatt and Josey's intervention, he'd tried to work through his fears. He'd even made an appointment with his doctor to ask about antianxiety medication, but then he'd changed his mind and canceled the next day. Which only made him feel worse about everything. What if he did need Wyatt to hold his hand and take him to the doctor? Loser.

He turned his mind to the job before him, a new bathroom faucet to install and a kitchen remodel estimate for-he lifted the clipboard to read-Janice Lynch. Pushing his way into the vestibule, he hoped she was a little old lady in her eighties. He searched the list of names and condo numbers next to the intercom b.u.t.tons, found the right one and pressed.

"Yes?" a feminine voice answered-not sounding at all old or frail.

"Sam Haney with Haney & Sons," he said into the speaker.

"I'm on the third floor. Take a right as you leave the elevator. Come on up," she said.

The heavy gla.s.s door buzzed. He entered the building and walked to the elevators straight ahead. He steeled himself on the way up. The construction season couldn't start fast enough as far as he was concerned. At least he always knew what to expect with new construction. The elevator stopped on the third floor. He made his way down the hall, found the right door and knocked. The door swung open, and a pretty redhead smiled at him. No ring on her finger. She wore yoga pants and a casual fleece top that showed a bit of strap from the camisole beneath, along with a glimpse of bare shoulder.

"Hi, I'm Janice. Come on in." She stepped back.

"I'm Sam," he said, handing her a card. Her fingers brushed his. Hmm. Could be his imagination, or an accident, but . . . was she being less than businesslike? "Bathroom faucet first?"

"Sure." She grabbed the box containing the new fixture from her kitchen counter and handed it to him. "The bathroom is the first door on the left down that hall. I'll be in the dining room working if you need anything."

"OK. Thanks." He'd imagined the finger brushing. Things were going to be fine. She was all business, not flirty. Box in hand, Sam set out for the bathroom and settled into the job. He'd been happy before he met Haley. Hadn't he? At least he hadn't been aware of how empty his life had been of any meaningful relationships outside of family.

It didn't take him more than thirty minutes to change out the old faucet for the newer, more stylish fixture. He cleaned up, put the old fixture in the now-empty box, and brought it back to the dining room, setting it down on a placemat.

"Do you want to check out the new faucet while I start measuring the kitchen? I understand you want to keep the room the same, only with new cabinets, countertops and appliances, is that correct?"

She had a bunch of papers and a laptop set up on the table. "That's right. New cabinets, counters, sink and appliances. Oh, and flooring. I forgot to mention the floor when I called."

"No problem." Sam took out his tape measure, and Ms. Lynch left to check out his work in the bathroom. He measured, made notes and drew a diagram.

Ms. Lynch returned and leaned against the wall to watch him. "The faucet works great, and I appreciate the way you cleaned up."

"Part of the job." He measured the s.p.a.ce for her stove. "Do you want to keep the sizes of your appliances the same as they are now? They're pretty standard, and you shouldn't have any trouble finding replacements that will fit."

"Yes. I don't want to spend a ton, but it's overdue for a change, and since the appliances are beginning to show their age, I figure I might as well do everything at once. Then I won't have to worry about my kitchen for another twelve or fifteen years."

"Hmm." He flashed her a grin. "That's optimistic. For the appliances, anyway. Things don't last like they used to."

"I suppose." She moved back to the table.

Sam continued to measure and make notes, conscious of the fact that her gaze kept landing on him. Once he was done, he joined her in the dining room. "Do you mind if I sit here to write up the estimate?" he asked, handing her the catalogs he'd brought.

"Not at all. Have a seat," she said with a smile.

"We can save you money on materials if you order through us. Appliances, cabinets, everything Lowes, Menards and Home Depot carries, we can get for you at a nice discount. Everything you'll need can be found in these catalogs." He tapped the catalogs she'd placed on the table.

"You know, you come highly recommended," she purred.

"Oh?" Gulp. His heart kicked up a notch. He kept his attention on his cell phone calculator, crunching numbers. Was that a cat under the table? d.a.m.n. Not a cat. Ms. Lynch's foot continued to slide up his leg, past his knee to his inner thigh. Sam shot up from the table. "Look, I don't know who recommended me to you, but-"

"Yvonne sings your praises."

"-I don't do this kind of thing anymore. Are you serious about the remodel quote, or-"

"Probably not. Why don't you do this kind of thing anymore?" she asked, her face a pout.

"Because . . ." I've fallen in love, that's why. None of her business. He raked his fingers through his hair. Guess this answers the question about returning to my old ways. "I'm not interested, but thanks." He wasn't that guy anymore, and he never would be again. Being with Haley had ruined him.

He wrote out a quick bill, padding it for the wasted time spent doing the estimate, and handed it to her. "I'll leave the kitchen estimate with you in case you change your mind. Will that be check or credit card today?"

"Credit card," she said, her tone flat.

Sam rushed through the transaction and got out of there as fast as he could. Was his s.e.x life over forever? Had falling for Haley doomed him to a life of self-gratification only? Come to think of it, wasn't that exactly what he'd been having all along, only with partners? He made a beeline for Haney & Sons, full of questions only one person could answer. He parked, climbed out and strode into the kitchen. His uncles were putting on their coats. "Heading out?" Sam asked.

"Yep," Uncle Dan said. "What about you? Aren't you finished for the day?"

"Yeah, but I want to talk to Gramps before I head home. Is he here?"

Uncle Jack nodded toward the hallway. "In his office."

"Thanks. See you tomorrow." He hurried down the hall. Grandpa Joe sat at his desk, which was a mess as usual. Still, as chaotic as the work s.p.a.ce appeared to be, his grandfather always knew exactly where everything was. "Hey, Gramps. Do you have a minute?"

"For you? Always." Grandpa Joe leaned back in his chair and smiled. "What's on your mind?"

Too keyed up to sit, Sam wandered around the office, looking at stuff on the shelves, parts catalogs, bowling trophies, the things he'd grown up seeing every day. "How come we don't have a bowling team anymore?"

"You came to talk to me about joining a bowling league?"

"No." Sam cast him a glance. "Do you remember when that whole radio thing happened?"

Gramps grunted. "I wish I could forget."

Guilt pinched at his heart. Or was it shame? "You said something that day." Sam took one of the bowling trophies from the shelf and wiped the dust off with his fingers. "You said once you met Grandma Maggie, the thought of being with any other woman made your . . . uh . . ." He cleared his throat.

"Junk shrivel up?" Grandpa said. "I remember."

"You said you had eyes only for Grandma, and that we Haney men are like that once we meet the one." He set the trophy back on the shelf. "Is there any truth to that, or were you just trying to make a point?"

Gramps gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk. "Sit down, son. You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?"

"I know, but talking about this just . . . it isn't easy." Sam slid into one of the chairs and slumped down.

"Things weren't any different back in my day than they are now. Women propositioned me on the job more frequently than you'd imagine, and no-I didn't always turn them down. I even dated a few. But once I met my sweet Maggie, that was it." He shook his head. "Mind you, we men are visual, and I still appreciated the occasional view, but the thought of touching anyone but your grandmother turned my stomach and yes, shriveled the family jewels." Grandpa Joe's eyebrows rose. "Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah." Sam chewed on that for a bit. "Gramps, if Grandma Maggie pa.s.ses before you, how the h.e.l.l will you survive? How do you even deal with the possibility?"

"Your grandmother and I have had a lot of wonderful years together, and G.o.d willing, we'll have many more. I love her more today than I did yesterday, and the thought of losing her would terrify me if I didn't believe we'd somehow find a way to be together again. Either through reincarnation, or in heaven or whatever it is awaiting us on the other side."

"Really? You believe that?"

"Really. Not only that, but she will always live on through all of you. Our children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren carry a part of us forward, and that's a huge comfort. I have all of you, and if I should lose her, having family makes living worthwhile."

Sam nodded. "Flotation devices."

"Come again?" Grandpa Joe grinned.

"Uh, just thinking about what someone told me once. So, you're saying that having family around helps keep us afloat through the hard times."

"Ah. Good a.n.a.logy, and it's true. Grieving for lost loved ones is painful but unavoidable, and every family goes through tough times. You have to take the good with the bad. There are no easy streets through life, Sam. Every road has its own unique set of potholes." Gramps leveled a serious look his way. "Does this have something to do with Haley Cooper?"

"Yeah." Sam's eyes stung. "I blew it."

"Well, if she's the one, I suggest you un-blow it. You're a Haney. You have skills. We Haney men can fix anything."

Sam huffed out a breath, his eyes a little moist. "Don't let Josey hear you say that, Gramps. It's s.e.xist."

"Ah, well." He waved a hand in the air. "You know what I mean."

"I do." He rose from the chair. "Thanks, I . . ." He cleared his throat. "You and Grandma Maggie mean the world to me."

"We love you too, Sam." He got up from the desk and stretched. "All this talk has me wanting to put my arms around my sweet wife. Every day I have with your grandmother is a gift, and I consider myself a very lucky man. Let's get out of here. We can lock up and walk out together."

Sam waited while his grandfather bundled himself up in his coat, scarf and gloves. The two of them walked outside together, and he waited while Gramps set the alarm system and locked the door. Grandpa Joe gripped the back of Sam's neck as they walked.

"Sam, I know how tough it was on you kids when you lost your mom and dad, and you've always taken things the hardest out of the three of you. Don't let losing them prevent you from reaching for your own happiness. That would break your mom's and dad's hearts. It would break mine and your grandmother's hearts too."

"Oh, great. Lay more guilt on my shoulders." A mirthless laugh escaped.