That had been before Liam had disappeared. Before her mother had returned, knocking out the foundations of her carefully ordered life and destroying what little self-esteem she had left.

“I don’t go with him anymore.” She lifted her gaze and forced her face into a tight smile. “He has a new girlfriend, Priya. She’s the one who gets dragged out on all his adventures now.”

“How about Sanjay? Is he around?”

Her heart swelled with pride for her older brother, and she couldn’t help but share. “He’s a doctor now, working with Doctors Without Borders. He goes from one war-torn country to the next. He hasn’t been home for three years, but he stays in touch over Skype when he’s in a city with Internet access.”

Liam’s face softened. “I always knew he could do great things.”

“He’ll be happy to know you’re alive,” she said dryly.

“What about you?” He tipped his head to the side and gave her the puppy dog eyes that once had her giggling and snorting milk through her nose at the dinner table.

Classic Liam. He could charm his way into anything, and had never been above capitalizing on his wicked allure.

She gave a half shrug. “I don’t care one way or the other.”

“And yet here you are talking to me.” He opened his hands in a placatory gesture.

“I wouldn’t be talking to you if you weren’t in my way.”

He stepped to the side and gave a gentlemanly bow. “Can I walk with you?”

“No.” She walked away, conscious of his gaze on her ample behind. Fighting back a smile, she gave a little wiggle. Ten years later, she wasn’t the girl she’d been at eighteen; she was so much more.

“Dinner?”

“No.”

“Jalebi ice cream sandwich?” he called out, referring to one of her favorite childhood treats.

Her betraying lips quivered at the corners. “No.”

“How about a snack? French toast crunch? Scooby Snacks? Trix with extra sugar? Pakoras and pretzels? Roast beef on rye with mustard and three thinly sliced pickles with a side of chocolate milk?”

Laughter bubbled up inside her. He had done this almost every day to guess the after-school snack even though she had always taped the weekly family meal plan to the refrigerator door.

“Pav bhaji, chaat, panipuri . . . ?” Liam had loved her father’s Indian dishes.

“I’m not listening.” But of course, she was.

“Two grilled cheese sandwiches with ketchup and zucchini fries? Masala dosa . . . ?” His voice grew faint as she neared the end of the block.

“Cinnamon sugar soft pretzels, tomato basil mozzarella toasts . . .” His voice faded away when she turned the corner. With a sigh, she leaned against the rough brick wall and let her laughter escape with a soft chuckle.

Peeking around the corner, she watched him take a picture of the vacancy sign. That didn’t bode well if she wanted to keep her distance. Bad enough he knew where she worked, but to have him downstairs?

Still, her vantage point behind the wall allowed her a few moments of unadulterated gazing at her teenage crush. His hair was brown, streaked with gold in the sunlight, tousled and just long enough to betray the rebel inside him. He was at once wild and civilized, and she could see him both in a boardroom and on his motorcycle, burning up the road as he sped down the coast on his next great adventure.

He looked up, head turned in her direction. Daisy’s pulse kicked up a notch and she shrank behind the wall. He hadn’t seen her. Or had he? He didn’t know she was there. Or did he?

“Goodbye, Daisy!” His raised voice was clearly audible even though she was half a block away.

Her face flushed and she took off down the street as fast as her boots could carry her. She needed to keep her distance from Liam Murphy. Falling for him had never been a choice. Losing him had almost destroyed her.

She couldn’t go through that emotional roller coaster ever again.

• 7 •

LIAM pulled open the door to the Rose & Thorn, an Irish pub in the Mission. Managed by his cousin, Ethan, it was a great little neighborhood dive bar first, Irish pub second, and had been his favorite place to relax when he visited the city. Now that he was back permanently, it had become a second home.

He paused on the threshold to check out the small stage where he could find anything from a barbershop quartet to a Marilyn Manson cover band belting out the tunes. Tonight, a small jazz band was performing their set, creating the perfect mood with the dimmed lights and cozy atmosphere. Exposed brick walls, plank wood floors, Irish décor—everything from carved Celtic Trinity knots to historical maps—and a big stone fireplace gave the pub authentic charm.

Breathing in the scents of hops and barley, he felt the tension ebb from his body as he grabbed the last seat at the bar. Sounds from the crackling fire and clinking glasses thrummed like a pulse beneath the low hum of chatter. For a few blissful hours he could forget about Brendan and the will, the houseful of relatives he didn’t really know, the end of the distillery, and the emptiness in his heart from the loss of his grandfather.

“Hey, stranger.” Rainey Davis, the head bartender, looked up from the dishwasher where she was stacking glassware. She was wearing her usual Kiss Me I’m Irish tank top so people would overlook her Texas drawl, her red-gold hair a tumble of curls down her back. “Ethan got in a shipment of Middleton Very Rare this afternoon. You want a taste?”

“Fill up a glass and keep pouring until I fall down.”

“Bad day at the office?” She pulled a bottle from the case on the floor.

“Bad week overall.”

“Then I’d better drink with you.” She poured two glasses and passed one over to Liam. “What should we toast?”