Ipushed myself through the motions of taking off my clothes. I turned on thewater, stepped under the pelting spray, and I scrubbed myself down. Forcing mythoughts to stay on the good in my life—Devin, Devin, Devin—whilekeeping thoughts of my dad at bay. But that conscious effort did nothing butremind me of what I was trying to forget, and my forehead met the tiled wall,and the tears came fast and strong. They joined the droplets of shower water onmy face, adding a taste of salt to the mix, and I sank to the tub’s floor.
Itwasn’t until Devin knocked on the bathroom door that I finally stood up andhurried through the rest of my shower routine. I turned the water off, wrappeda towel around myself, and opened the door, not caring that he’d notice the redrings around my eyes.
“Yeah?”I asked.
“Iwas just going to ask if you wanted some coffee.” He reached out to brush atear from my cheek.
Imanaged a smile and nodded. “Yeah … thanks.”
“Okay,”he said, nodding once before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.He lingered for a second before turning toward the kitchen. I watched him walkaway, watched the way his t-shirt shifted over the muscular structure of hisback, and I wet my lips.
Ididn’t deserve this—what we had. But God, I didn’t know what the fuck I’d dowithout it.
?
The townwas adorable and quaint, and everybody really seemed to know everybody else,just like you’d imagine. To the extent that, as we drove through, a fewpassersby took note of the fact that they didn’t recognize us.
AfterDevin parked the truck, a few people waved and smiled. A young guy pushing astroller even stopped and introduced himself as Patrick Kinney.
“Thisis my daughter Meghan,” he said, gesturing at the toddler in the stroller.“You’re new around here?” he asked, looking between Devin and me.
“Um,just checking out one of the shops in town,” I said, taken immediately by hisheight and muscular build.
“Ah,which one? I can tellyawhere it is.” I picked up onthe subtle accent in his voice. My stomach swarmed with excitable lust.
“Actually,there’s one for sale we’re looking at,” Devin chimed in. “An old bar?”
Patricknoddedknowingly, andturned to point across thestreet. I followed his finger, saw the aged brick building, and a twitchstarted in my cheek and pulled at the corner of my lips. A ping of distinctacknowledgement struck my heart at the sight of the building, and I knew. Ididn’t need to go inside, I didn’t need to check it out.
Iwanted that building, and it needed me.
“Whatdoyawant to do with it?” Patrick asked, turningback to us and squinting his eyes in the sunlight.
Ismiled. “A coffeeshop.”
Hisfriendly smile faded, making way for an attractive look of excitement as heleaned down to smack me in the hormones with his apparently gorgeous eyes.
“Don’tsay that too loud, unless you’reveryserious,” he said in alow, husky voice. “We desperately need a place for coffee around here. Dick’sDiner makes some instant shite that tastes the way it sounds.”
Ireleased a shrill giggle that made Devin’s eyes widen with surprise. “Oh, I’mveryserious,” I said with an airy titter as I touched my hair and flipped a strandaround a finger. Devin’s hand laid over my shoulder.
“We’remeeting with the realtor, but I’m pretty sure it’s going to happen. From thelooks of the place online, it seems perfect for what she’s looking for,” hesaid, stepping closer to me. Speaking for me.
Claimingme?Mycheeks were on fire at the possibility.
Patricksmiled. “Oh, trust me—a coffee shop is perfect. Hope it happens,ehm—” And he waited for my name, tipping his head andextending a hand toward me.
Devincut in, taking his hand and shaking heartily. “Devin, and this is Kylie.”
“Itwas nice to meet you,” I said, and he smiled.
“Youtoo. Hope I see you around,” and he was off again, walking the little girl downthe street. Devin looked down at me, eyes narrowed and shaking his head.
“Wow,I thought you weregonnastart humping his leg,” hesaid, releasing the hold on my shoulder.
“Ialmost did,” I admitted, and then pouted.
“Youneed to get laid,” Devin laughed, leading me in the direction of the bar.
