CAN'T FIGHT THIS FEELING

Chapter 1

"I want to sleep with you," Maggie McShae said into her cell phone. "I'm ready to take the plunge." Her words echoed in the high-ceilinged vestibule of Mirror Lake Congregational Church, where her bereavement group was meeting at this very moment in the basement.

The bereavement group, that is, from which she'd gone AWOL, possibly forever. It was not the group she led as part of her practice as a psychologist either, but the one she'd attended since her husband's death over three years ago.

"Did I just hear you right?" Greg Pollard, a fireman on the Mirror Lake squad, asked from the other end of the phone.

"Yes, you heard me right. I'm ready. It's time." There, she'd done it. Finally taken a step forward. Greg was a nice guy, and they'd had three fun dates. He was good-looking and polite, and she wanted him to know she was ready to move to the next level. Being a psychologist, even she could congratulate herself on the progress.

What would Corey think? She could see him sitting in heaven, in his favorite easy chair, laughing his ass off at her awkwardness. Or maybe he'd be scowling instead. He'd been gone three and a half years, but going on a date still felt like she was cheating on him. She squeezed her eyes shut to block out those thoughts. She was doing so well. Keep going, Maggie, she thought, trying to cheer herself on inside her head.

"Um, Maggie, I'm at work. Can you give me a sec?"

"Oh, sure. No problem, Greg."

The sound of male laughter echoed around her in the high-ceilinged space, bouncing off the big glass windows that faced Main Street of Mirror Lake, Connecticut. As Maggie slowly turned around, she saw someone sitting on one of the three wide white marble steps that ran the length of the vestibule.

Oh, firetruck. It was her best friend Bella's obnoxious brother-in-law, and he'd just heard everything. Well, she wasn't going to let him sit there and gloat. "Oh hi, Ted Kaczynski," she said, waving. "What made you join civilization today?"

The man smoothed out his rather bushy beard and smiled. Even under all that hair (which he'd seemed to grow to hide behind in the past year and a half since coming to Mirror Lake), that smile was beaming out some major wattage. She'd never personally seen him without the Wolverine look, but she'd seen photos in the tabloids, and honestly, she was grateful for the massive sprouting of hair that hid his make-women-swoon sexy looks. Not that they'd ever make her swoon, mind you. She was immune to scoundrels.

Above the beard, his eyes crinkled, showing a few lines that in a man like him spelled interest and experience. He smiled, displaying brilliantly white teeth, reminding her he wasn't a country hick hiding out in Mirror Lake but rather a polished gazillionaire businessman. But the hiding part was right.

Actually, they'd met when he'd run in off the street straight into the group therapy session she was leading, looking for sanctuary from the press after his botched wedding. She was afraid he was deranged and called the cops. She smiled a little thinking of that day when a gorgeous AWOL guy in a tux burst through her office door. She'd gotten to know him a little since he was the brother of two of her best friends' husbands, but she didn't have a very high opinion of him. In the looks department, he was blessed, but the rest of him left a lot to be desired.

"Don't mind me," he said. "Just keep on with your...um...booty call."

She covered the receiver of her cell and dropped her voice. Because they were in a church, after all. "It's not a booty call. We've had three perfectly wonderful dates, and he wanted to...he wanted to... Why am I telling you this? It's none of your business."