McKenna Homecoming. Shirley Jump

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       Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Copyright

       Chapter One

      The invitation sat on Alec McKenna’s desk for a solid month, mixed with the junk mail and slick catalogs, before he opened the cream-colored envelope and withdrew the printed cardstock. He skimmed the top line: You’re invited to the ten-year reunion of James Madison High School. Then he took a step to the right—

      And dropped the envelope into the trash.

      His cousin Riley stepped over and fished the paper out of the circular bin. “Hey, this is tonight. You’re not going to go?”

      “It’s a reunion. For high school. I can think of a thousand other things I’d rather do.”

      “So can most red-blooded American males,” Riley said, chuckling. He had the same dark hair and blue eyes as the rest of the McKenna men. In fact, when Alec and Riley were younger, they’d been confused for twins. Even as adults, the close resemblance remained between the cousins. “But weren’t you voted most popular, or most desirable, or something equally embarrassing?”

      “Something like that.” He waved it off. “Anyway, it’s all ancient history.”

      “All of it?” Riley arched a brow. “What about Leah Andrews?”

      Even after all these years, the name still sent a shock wave rippling through Alec. He hadn’t seen Leah since their graduation day, though he’d thought about her once or twice. Okay, a hundred times. He could still remember exactly how she’d looked—blond hair loose around her shoulders, shapely body swaying with each step—as she’d walked away from him.

      That was how their relationship had ended. Tassles to the opposite side, caps tossed in the air, and then, just like that, Leah was gone. He’d thought they had their future mapped out—or at least the next four years of it—but Leah had thrown a detour into that road map. She’d left that day, not for their planned destination of college together in New York, but instead to California, to her father. She’d asked him to go with her, but at the idea of hospitals and doctors’ offices and instant responsibility, Alec had balked.

      He hadn’t even realized what that decision had cost him until it was too late.

      But it was all for the best. He hadn’t been the kind of guy who settled down, planted a garden in the backyard and had the neighbors over for a barbecue on Labor Day. Even now, he lived his life unfettered, free to come and go, whenever and wherever he wanted, though that lifestyle felt increasingly empty. And Leah, well, she was the kind of woman who made family ties into an art form.

      Still, he felt guilty about how he had ended their relationship. If he had known then what he knew now, he’d have handled it differently.

      “Leah and I were over years ago,” Alec said. “Hell, I don’t even know where she is anymore.”

      “According to this,” Riley dangled the invitation, “she’s heading the reunion committee. So you know where she’ll be tonight. You should go, at least to find out what happened to her.” He held out the cream-colored cardstock to his cousin.

      Alec took the invitation. His gaze dropped to the bottom, to a list of familiar names, but only one leaped out at him, as if it had been printed in bold:

       Leah Andrews.

      The other women on the committee had their pasts in parentheses: Michelle (Wilson) Klein, Heather (Sloan) Bertram. But Leah’s name was the same now as it had been ten years ago. Did that mean she’d never married? Or that she’d kept her maiden name? And why did he still care?

      He laid the invitation on the desk. “Well, I’m still not interested.”

      “Think of what you’ll be missing,” Riley said.

      “Just a lot of people who probably haven’t changed much in a decade,” Alec said.

      He had changed, though, especially in the past couple of months. He’d become responsible—a fact that surprised even Alec sometimes. He’d probably still be the selfish commitment-phobe that he’d been in high school if it hadn’t been for his father’s accident. The crash was a culmination of a life of bad choices, and it had spurred a wake-up call for Alec. He’d realized that night that he needed a change, and, as if reading Alec’s mind, his great-aunt, Riley’s grandmother, contacted him the next day and offered him just that opportunity. Mary McKenna had always been more of a mother to Alec than his own, and he found himself saying yes to a new job and a whole stack of responsibilities. All of a sudden, his days had been filled with purpose, something he hadn’t even realized he’d needed until he had it. Now, instead of looking for the next party, Alec looked for the next opportunity to expand McKenna Media. “Maybe some people have changed.”

      “Some sure did, cuz,” Riley said with a grin, giving Alec an easy slug in the shoulder. “Anyway, I’ll catch up with you later. I’ve got a date at the diner.” The grin widened into the kind of smile worn by a man who had fallen for a woman. Over the past few weeks, Riley had done nothing but talk about Stace, who worked at the Morning Glory diner in downtown Boston, and who had clearly stolen Riley’s heart.

      After Riley left, Alec crossed to the window and looked out over busy Back Bay Street below his apartment. With Riley gone, the apartment seemed to echo, as if Alec alone wasn’t enough to fill the space. He stared awhile longer, watching the traffic pass, the people walk by, the dogs chase each other. Then the sun began to drop lower in the sky, washing the street with gold.

      Alec turned away from the window to the desk. He reached for the invitation, intending to toss it once and for all. Then his thumb traced over the letters at the bottom, and his mind reached back a decade into the past. To a pretty girl with a wide smile and soft eyes, to laughter that sounded like music and days when it seemed the sun could shine forever. Funny, he thought, how his memory colored everything with a pastel brush, when he knew the reality was far less colorful.

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