Lilac Time

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

A nnaBeth had her hands wrapped around the warm mug of tea when Devlin reentered the kitchen. Muted light filtering through the windows shone on the long, wavy hair draping the sides of her face as she stared down at the table. She appeared lost in thought.

Outside, drizzling rain turned into a downpour, darkening the skies and adding shadows to both the kitchen and her pensive expression. He could flip on the overhead fluorescent lights, but here, with her, dim and shadowy felt nicer. More intimate.

Not an hour ago, Devlin had been beat after a long workday and another conflict with his well-meaning mother-in-law. For the entire ride to his uncle’s house, Mia had been miserable, close to throwing up. Seeing her like that never failed to level him. He could have canceled the visit with his uncle, but Sony looked forward to seeing them, and his house was closer than Devlin’s anyway. On top of that, Mia had wanted to see Ruby . . . and he’d wanted to see AnnaBeth.

Now, thanks to AnnaBeth, he felt rejuvenated.

Seeing her in profile like this, he noticed the length of her eyelashes, the straight line of her nose, the curve of her cheekbone, and the lush shape of her lips.

He’d thought about those lips far too often.

Quietly, so he wouldn’t startle her, he said, “They’re all three out.”

Her lips curling into a smile, she looked up. “Sony is asleep for real?”

“Complete with loud snores. Ruby buried herself under the blanket on Mia’s chest. Is that okay?”

“She loves to burrow. It’s fine.”

He reseated himself across from her. “I’m sorry about . . .” He didn’t know how to put it. “Mia and Ruby. She wanted a dog, but then she met yours and stopped asking. It seemed like an easy solution for me, since a dog would be one more thing to care for.”

“Wise choice. I swear, Ruby waits for me to get busy to decide she wants to go out. Or that she needs a treat. And she loses her favorite toys all the time, then whines at me to find them. I think she does that on purpose, though, when she decides I’ve worked too long and it’s time to play.” She smiled, showing him she didn’t mind that game at all. “Pets take a lot of time and patience, but she’s an adorable little companion.”

A companion that AnnaBeth clearly loved. “I’m sorry I never considered how it might feel to you.”

“For real?” She scoffed. “No worries. I love seeing the two squirts together. Besides, Ruby would have been completely heartbroken if Mia had gotten a different dog. This way, they’re both happy.”

But what about her? How happy could she be giving up half her time with her pet? “It’s nice of you to share.”

She shrugged. “I still get to sleep with Ruby at night. When Mia’s not here, the dog loves me just fine.”

She shared her bed with the dog. Did she share it with any humans? “Still . . .”

“Dude, seriously. I love seeing them together.”

Humor slipped up on him, causing the side of his mouth to lift. “You’re the only woman I know who calls me dude .”

She flashed him another grin. “I’m weird, I know.” Tilting her head and making a silly face, she said, “AB Positive.”

It bothered him the way she put that. “I never said you were weird, AnnaBeth. You’re not. You’re definitely fun, though. I enjoy your company, and both my uncle and my daughter adore you.” The emotions Devlin felt for her were a little more complicated—and getting more so by the minute.

“Adore them right back. They’re terrific.” She glanced around the kitchen and came up with a topic change. “Sony told me this room was updated twenty-five years ago, and he hasn’t changed anything since.”

Devlin laughed. “By updated, he means they changed the countertop from cracked tiles to laminate, switched out the cabinet knobs, and instead of yellow-flowered curtains on that window over the sink, they got red-checked curtains. This old tile floor is the same as I remember when I was a little kid. Same maple cabinets. Same . . . feel. I always liked visiting my aunt and uncle.”

AnnaBeth watched him. “What was she like, Sony’s wife? He talks about her a lot.”

“Yeah.” Devlin thought of his uncle, currently slumped in his chair, how different he was now that he approached ninety. He’d slowed down for sure, and he often napped twice a day. Yet in many ways, he was the same man with the same robust opinions and open affection that Devlin remembered from his youth. “He still loves Evelyn. Always will.” That would never change. Though Devlin had loved Dana, too, they’d only had a few years together before she’d passed away, not the lifetime Uncle Sony and Aunt Evelyn had shared.

Dana would always hold a special place in his heart, but his fondest memories—those of their daughter growing from a baby into a little girl—didn’t include her.

A thought struck him, and he studied AnnaBeth.

“What?” She quickly smoothed her hair, even sat a little straighter.

His mouth curved. “Just because I look at you, you assume something is wrong?”

She said, “Um . . . no?”

That deserved a small laugh. “You’re worrying, but you don’t need to be. Not with me.”

Brushing that aside, she asked again, “What were you thinking?”

“That Evelyn was the fun aunt. She’d say silly things and tell outrageous stories, and every so often, she’d curse, and it’d crack me up. She had an enormous heart and was always interested in people.” He stared into AnnaBeth’s eyes, noticing things he hadn’t before. Like the way a ring of darker blue circled her irises. How her long lashes curled at the outer corners. The way her brows pinched together when she was concerned about something.

Her gaze made him want to get a whole lot closer. With AnnaBeth, he felt seen in a different way. Her attention felt sensual.

Did she realize how she looked at him?

Her lips twitched. “Am I growing horns? You’re staring.”

“Because you’re so attractive.”

Her smile went crooked.

“In a lot of ways, you’re like Aunt Evelyn. Natural and easy. Everyone who meets you likes you. You make people feel comfortable and special, just as she did. It’s a gift.”

Color bloomed in her cheeks, turning her skin splotchy. Not a great look, but even her embarrassment seemed endearing. “Why are you blushing?”

“Because I don’t make people comfortable. Just the opposite, probably. Like you said, I’m bossy, and sometimes I joke when I shouldn’t.” Anxious to make a point, she said, “Like when Mia was sick. I should have been sympathetic, not teasing.”

“Wrong.” It seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to reach across the table and take her hand. A small hand, soft and warm, seemingly delicate, but he knew better. AnnaBeth had to have incredible strength to go through life alone and still be so generous.

The second they touched, she went completely still, unblinking, her gaze fixed on his.

Devlin kept his hold loose, his palm up so she could pull away if he’d made her uncomfortable. She didn’t budge, though, so he brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “Sympathy isn’t always what you say. It’s more about what you do and how you make people feel. You helped Mia to feel better, you distracted her, and you offered me some much-needed help. Even when I resisted, you just did what you could.”

“Pushy,” she muttered. “That’s me.”

“Take charge,” he corrected. “It’s a good quality to have.” Needing her to believe him, he explained, “When Mia is sick, it leaves me undone. I probably would have babied her, and then she’d have been crying, and that would have made us both feel worse. Instead, you were plainspoken and practical, and you got her to grin.” That was likely the moment the fog had lifted for him, the very second that he’d decided it was time to take a chance.

To move forward. And he knew where to start.

“She’d just been moaning in the car,” Devlin said. “Then she emptied her stomach. And you got a grin out of her.” He gently squeezed her fingers. “I appreciate you, AnnaBeth. We appreciate you.”

She stared at their linked hands, then into his eyes again. It was a small thing, but her fingers gently curved to his. “I was glad to pitch in.”

“I know. Because you’re the same type of person my aunt was. A doer, not just a talker.”

“I like how you see me. It’s nice.”

Nice . He should be happy with that, but instead, he wanted more. Today was different from all the days leading up to this moment. It was as if they’d just crossed some boundary, and in doing so, the grief he’d felt for so long faded a little more, still there but not as prevalent. Not such a big part of him. “So, AnnaBeth, are you seeing anyone?”

Her brows lifted. “What do you mean?”

“Are you dating anyone special?” He probably should have asked before taking her hand, but again, this all felt new and special. He didn’t want to mess it up. “I mean, are you involved with anyone?”

“No.” She glanced at their linked hands. “I’m guessing you aren’t, either?”

“I haven’t dated since my wife died.” Saying it out loud was harder than he’d thought it would be. Not just the finality of acknowledging Dana’s death, as if stating he was ready to move on, but also the worry that he might have just erred. Only a man sorely out of practice would mention his deceased wife while enjoying the company of another woman.

Hoping to retrench, to give himself a moment to think, he released her hand to drink his quickly cooling tea.

As if she’d felt his hesitation, his brief withdrawal, she no longer looked at him. Though neither of them had changed positions, she now felt farther away. He was making it awkward, and he knew it, but at the moment, he didn’t know how to salvage the situation.

A flash of lightning illuminated the kitchen, followed by the rumble of thunder.

“Your wife,” she suddenly said, drawing his attention back to her. Silent seconds ticked by before she asked softly, “Would you tell me about her?”

The question took him off guard. Few had ever asked him to do that. Certainly not the women who’d shown interest in him. They’d flirt a little, and he’d politely respond without any encouragement at all, so they’d kindly retreat. He’d had zero interest, and no time to invest in a relationship, no matter how casual or brief it might have been.

Such had been his life after losing Dana.

Sony didn’t talk much about her, probably for fear of reminding Devlin of his loss. Dana’s mother certainly didn’t, except to complain every so often that Dana would have done something differently from how he did it, which might have been true, but Dana wasn’t here, and he did what he thought best.

This time, AnnaBeth reached out, just touching his wrist. “I assume she was beautiful, because you’re so gorgeous, and Mia is a doll. I’m sure she was wonderful, too, and that’s why it’s hard for you to talk about her. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“You didn’t.” She hadn’t, not once in the year he’d known her. She’d been nothing but supportive and helpful, and now interested.

His heart took up an uneven rhythm. Other parts of him were also on high alert. Energized, primed, and hungry.

Because AnnaBeth was unlike anyone else he knew, talking about his wife with her seemed the most natural thing in the world. “Mia got Dana’s blond hair.”

He heard the smile in her tone when she replied, “I wondered about that. Yours is so dark, but she’s a fair little pipsqueak. Did Dana have dark eyes, too?”

“No.” He studied her face. “She had blue eyes, lighter than yours, without the mix of shades that your eyes have.”

The observation stalled her for a moment, but she quickly rallied. “So Mia has your eyes and her mama’s hair. It’s a pretty combo. Like a little bit of each of you.” She continued, asking, “You have photos around your home so Mia can see her mother?”

“No, but I printed several and put them into an album. Sometimes Mia likes to go through it, and she’ll ask questions.”

“Which of course you answer,” she said decisively, as if she didn’t have a single doubt. “You’d want her to know all about her mama.”

Emotion left him solemn, but it wasn’t talking about losing Dana that caused it. It was AnnaBeth’s faith in him. She trusted him to make the best decisions—and God knew, that’s what he wanted to do.

“Sometimes, it isn’t easy to know what the right thing is. I answer Mia’s questions the best I can, and there are some favorite stories I share with her. But when she asks about the wreck and how her mother died, I skim over that part. It was . . . horrible. Dana had a small, sporty car that she drove when she was alone, and it didn’t fare well in the wreck.” Such an understatement. Her car, with her inside it, had been demolished. No, he never discussed those details with his daughter.

“No one else died?” AnnaBeth asked.

“No, though there were some serious injuries.” And now he drove a large, sturdy SUV, as did Mia’s grandmother.

“Thank God, Mia wasn’t with her.”

“I’ve thought that a million times.” Often, just because Mia did something new, or changed in any small way. “She’s only five. She doesn’t need details. Plus, I’m afraid she might say something to Cindy—Grandma Olsen,” he explained. “My mother-in-law is a good grandma, despite the over-indulgences, but she’s also emotional about the loss still. I don’t want her crying with Mia.”

“What about Mia’s grandpa?”

He shook his head. “Cindy got divorced when Dana wasn’t much older than Mia is now. He took off, so Dana never really knew him, and Mia has never met him.”

“Cindy hasn’t remarried?”

“No. Says she isn’t interested, and she does just fine on her own. She’s a little too clingy with Mia, but I understand that. While Cindy has her friends and her activities, Mia is the only family she has left.”

“She has you.” AnnaBeth waited for confirmation.

“Yes, she has me.” It wasn’t always easy, but he tried to ensure that the relationship continued.

AnnaBeth drifted her fingertips over his wrist. “You’re an amazing guy; you know that, right? You’re selective in what you say to protect Mia. It’s important to keep what you share age appropriate, so you do. And even though your mother-in-law oversteps a little here and there, you still make sure that she and Mia stay close. I admire that so much.” Her hand closed warmly over his. “I admire you.”

Giving her words back to her, he said, “I like how you see me. It’s nice.”

Pleasure brightened her eyes. “Well, then, I should also tell you how great it is that you and Sony are still so close. You help him even more than you realize.”

“I help Uncle Sony when I can, but he helps me, too. When I have business calls I have to make, he sits with Mia.” Given Sony’s age, Devlin didn’t leave him alone to babysit, but when they were all in the same house, his uncle was terrific about keeping her occupied. “He advises me, too. And he’s a great sounding board when I’m trying to work out a problem.”

“Family, right?” She gave a whimsical sigh, as if such a thing were a fairy tale. “That’s how I always imagined it would be. Good and bad times, there for you no matter what.”

“In a nutshell.” It was family that had kept him together after losing Dana. Family that had been by his side through funeral arrangements and sleepless nights and the heavy grief.

Only AnnaBeth didn’t have any family. He found that so hard to imagine. She was a beautiful person, inside and out. He hoped her friendly outlook on life and her giving nature meant her upbringing hadn’t been too rough. AB Positive. It could be a really cute, complimentary nickname—if used for the right reasons.

She said, “You’ve gotten quiet.”

“Just thinking.” About you . “Sony’s eighty-eight now. When my mom and dad moved to Florida, Mom tried to get him to go along, but he wouldn’t leave this house. They visit several times a year, and they came for two months after we lost Dana.” He’d had family surrounding him, doing what they could, but he’d known he had to get it together for his daughter. “Mia and I go there for two weeks on vacation each winter, and I invite Sony along, but he won’t budge. He says he’s rooted here.”

With empathy in her eyes, she looked around the kitchen. “His Evelyn is here.”

“And all his memories of her.” Devlin understood why Sony wouldn’t leave. What years he had left, he wanted to spend in the home he loved. “He’s as healthy as a man that age can be, but I still worry, so I try to be with him as much as I can, whether he’s helping me or I’m helping him, or we’re just sitting together sharing a meal or a movie or playing cards.”

“He’s a card shark,” she said with a gentle grin.

“Is that firsthand experience talking?” Sony hadn’t mentioned playing cards with AnnaBeth, but it seemed probable. TV, talking, and cards were his favorite activities.

“I try to keep an eye on him, too,” AnnaBeth said. “In the morning, I watch for his kitchen light to come on and the porch light to go off. That’s how I know he’s up and about so I don’t have to worry. Then I check on him in the afternoon, after I’ve finished my morning work.” She made a face. “He always offers me tea.”

Devlin laughed. Obviously she drank it, just to keep Sony happy.

Shifting, she pointed to a business card held on the fridge with a magnet. “That’s my number, but I also put it in his contacts. I mean, I know he’d call you if he really needed anything, but I’m right here, so . . .” She lifted her shoulders with uncertainty. “I’m convenient in case there’s an emergency. I hope you don’t mind.”

Amazing. He could see that she didn’t think anything of going above and beyond for a neighbor, but to him, her kindness was exceptional, making her even more appealing—if such a thing were possible. After all, he was aware that he came with family attached. He wasn’t just himself. Any woman he dated would have to understand that his family would always be a priority, not just his young daughter, but an elderly uncle, as well. “Thank you.”

“Hundred percent my pleasure. Honest. Sony is a super-likeable guy. Funny and sometimes snarky. And as you said, he’s pushing ninety. I’m glad he has such a set routine so he never keeps me guessing. His kitchen light comes on; then a few minutes later, his porch light goes off, and not long after that, he opens the blinds and waves at me.” Her gaze softened, and she said, “He makes me feel needed. I like it.”

It was one thing for him to take such an interest in his uncle; he loved the man dearly. It was another thing—a wonderful thing—for her to spend so much of her time looking in on him.

Sony talked about AnnaBeth often, and Devlin had seen the casual, familiar way they interacted, but it still hadn’t registered exactly how close they’d gotten.

“Would it be okay if I gave you my number, too? As you said, you’re close, and since you don’t mind checking on him, I’d want to know right away if you noticed anything that worried you.”

“Sure.” She lifted a hip, withdrew her phone from her back pocket, opened her contacts, and said, “Go.”

Bemused at how easily she’d accepted his offer, Devlin recited his number and then got out his own phone. “Mind if I have yours?” He waited to see how she’d react.

“Makes sense.” She shared her number.

They stared at each other as an invisible spark ignited between them. Did she feel it? Deciding to test the boundaries just a little, he asked, “Would you mind if I called you when it had nothing to do with Sony?”

She started to smile, but then hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure how he meant the question. “Feel free.”

That blasé answer told him nothing. Devlin studied her, and damn, the more he thought about it, the more he wanted her. Right now, here with AnnaBeth, he felt reinvigorated, more like himself than he had in years. “What if I called to invite you out?”

“To where?”

Her confusion got the better of him, and he grinned. It seemed clear to him that AnnaBeth didn’t do a lot of flirting. “During the week, Mia has morning kindergarten. Twice a week, she’s with her grandmother. I think we could sneak in lunch or a movie.” And maybe more .

Her brows went up, and she asked carefully, “You mean . . . like a date?”

“Is that a problem?”

She went comically still. “A date-date?”

His ego was starting to sting. “You said you aren’t seeing anyone.”

“I’m not,” she was quick to say. Then she added, “And yes, I’d love to have lunch with you, or see a movie, or whatever.”

The whatever interested him the most.

She gave him a smile that faltered just a little. “As long as I’m not pressuring you.”

“The opposite. I may be pressuring you.”

“No,” she denied, shaking her head. “Not at all.” She gave him another happy smile. “Actually, I’m flattered. Big time.”

“Big time, huh?” She was so funny, and so plainspoken, that his ego rejoiced. “I’m out of practice, but I’m enjoying this.” He gestured between them. “As a man and a woman, not just as neighbors.” He frowned. “And not just any woman. You, AnnaBeth. Because I like you.” He needed her to understand that. He’d had other opportunities, other women showing interest, but no one had broken through his self-imposed single status.

By not even trying, by just being herself, an involved neighbor and a caring friend, she’d affected him as no one else had.

“I like you, too. I always have. The thing is, I want to make sure I understand.” She bit her lower lip. “Is it because I asked about your wife?”

Devlin shook his head. “For the longest time, I’ve been focused on getting through each day. On being the best dad I could be for Mia. On watching over my uncle and trying to help my mother-in-law through a really bad time. Assuring my parents that I’m doing fine, and setting up video visits for them to talk with Mia.”

Maintaining the house, working full time, getting as involved in Mia’s school as he could.... There hadn’t been many minutes left for him to think about himself, and that had probably been a good thing.

Until now.

Folding her arms on the table, AnnaBeth said, “You’re important, too, you know. You can’t just take care of everyone else; you have to take care of yourself, as well.”

“I do.”

“I don’t think so. Do you even know what you want? Personally, I mean. For yourself as a man.”

It was sweet, but also sexy, to have her look at him like that. “I haven’t given it much thought.” Actually, he hadn’t given any thought to what he needed or wanted in a personal sense.

“I have,” she said. “Thought about you as a man, I mean. A lot.”

There went his ego again. “I’d like to kiss you, AnnaBeth.” He wanted to kiss her and so much more. Damn, it was nice to feel again. “What do you think of that?”

“Anytime I thought about kissing you, I always reminded myself: Single dad, single dad, single dad .” She emphasized that by lightly bumping her palm on her forehead. “Anyone could see that being a dad was your focus, but it wasn’t easy for me to remember. So I made it a mantra in my head to keep from doing anything dumb, like coming on strong.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sort of like I am now.”

He gave a shake of his head. “I had no idea. You hid it well.” So many times, he’d been attracted to her and hadn’t known she was sharing similar feelings. Now that he did know, temptation was riding him hard.

She teased him with a flirty once-over. “You seriously thought I could be around you without thinking . . . things . No way. You’re just that kind of guy.”

He’d love more details on what things specifically, but instead he asked, “What kind of guy is that?”

“You know, super good-looking, calm. and in control.” She gave a little shiver. “All buff and stuff. Plus the way you care for Mia just tugs at the old heartstrings. You’re the whole package, dude. Except I know you aren’t looking for a girlfriend, and even if you were, you wouldn’t be looking at me. So I’ve tried to just be a no-pressure neighbor.”

“There’s no ‘just’ to you, AnnaBeth.” And he was damn well looking at her, only her.

As if the flattery made her uncomfortable, she teased, “You haven’t dated for a long time, so you’re not a good judge.”

“The hell I’m not. I might have other priorities, but I’m still a man.” The part of him that had gone dormant when Dana died was wide awake now.

“I agree with you there.” She gave the tea a nasty look and pushed the cup aside. “I can’t imagine all the things you had to be feeling.”

“And missing,” he said, without thinking. “Not that we need to talk about that.”

“Why not? Seems to me that the things you’re missing would be the hardest part of losing someone. The big stuff and all the little stuff, too.” Her eyes, far too understanding, didn’t shy away. “Talking about things sometimes helps.”

“I haven’t talked about Dana with anyone.”

She nodded; then, with soft encouragement, said, “You can talk about her with me if you want.”

“That wouldn’t seem weird to you?” Immediately, he said, “And no, don’t say you’re weird.”

“Okay, I won’t.” She gave him a crooked smile. “You know Sony likes to talk about Evelyn, so I assume you’d like to talk about Dana. Except Mia is only five years old, and she probably doesn’t remember much about her mother. And Sony is almost ninety, so I’m betting you don’t like to burden him. From the tiny bit I gathered from Mia, her grandma is still struggling over losing her daughter, so you can’t share much with her, either. Since you haven’t dated, I’m guessing there hasn’t been an opportunity to talk about someone who was super-important to your life.”

So astute. “I wouldn’t talk about Dana on a date with another woman.”

“Well, why not? You had an amazing little daughter with her, so Dana will always be a part of your life.”

See, that. That was what made AnnaBeth so special. “True,” he agreed softly.

She sat forward, again reaching out, this time clasping his hand. “I mean it, Devlin. You can talk to me. I’m interested, in you and Mia and Uncle Sony. If it’s still too painful, you can tell me that, too. Whatever you need.”

Whatever I need . Funny, but now that she said it, what he needed most was her. Probably too soon to tell her that, though.

He knew what she expected, for him to focus on himself. That didn’t quite feel right, but maybe if he shared a little, she would, too.

“It was a running joke in our marriage that I had to be in charge of paying the bills or we’d be living on the street. Don’t get me wrong. Dana more than carried her fair share. She did the majority of chores around the house—cooking and laundry and so many things I hadn’t realized were a part of her daily routine until she was gone. Sometimes I worry that I didn’t show her enough appreciation.”

AnnaBeth gave a quiet huff of disbelief. “Unless you’ve changed completely, I’ll never believe that.”

He hoped she was right. “In so many ways, Dana was perfect, but before we married, she’d run up a lot of debt, so she insisted that I keep track of our accounts.”

“Smart.”

“Yeah, she was. She worked with me to get it all paid off, and then we both stuck to our budget.”

AnnaBeth encouraged him with a smile. “You were a team.”

Yes, they had been. “She loved decorating.” He brushed his thumb over AnnaBeth’s knuckles, thinking this conversation shouldn’t be so comfortable, so easy. Yet it was. “The house reflected her in a lot of ways, and I struggled with that after she was gone. With seeing her everywhere I looked. I ended up changing it all, especially in the bedroom.”

“I imagine sleeping was difficult enough for a while.”

“Not like Mia let me sleep much anyway.” God, that had been a terrible time, one he usually refused to revisit, because the memories were grueling. Now though, with AnnaBeth . . . “She’d just turned two, and she wanted her mommy so badly.”

Squeezing his fingers, she whispered, “Heartbreaking.”

“So many nights, I sat in a rocking chair with her, and we’d rock and rock until she finally wore herself out crying and dozed off.”

“Bet you were afraid to move even a tiny bit.”

She had that right. “I didn’t dare blink. I just held her and hoped she’d get some rest.” He remembered her red eyes and cheeks, her breaths uneven, and how his heart would ache so badly, he didn’t know how he’d survive it. But he had, and now his daughter was a happy little girl.

With a quiet sniff, AnnaBeth said, “You must be a really strong person to have gotten through something like that.”

He heard it in her words, in the gruffness of her voice, that she really got how devastating it had been. “You don’t get a choice, really. You do what you can do, however you can do it, until the new reality starts to settle in. It was months before I figured out that reading to Mia in her bed made it easier for me to slip away once she fell asleep. Then after a while, that became the routine.”

“Is it still a bedtime ritual?”

“Most nights.” It was something they both enjoyed. “Sometimes she wants to read to me, which means she repeats back a favorite story she has memorized while we turn the pages. Occasionally, she falls asleep before we can even get started.”

With a teasing smile, AnnaBeth said, “She told me her grandma thinks she’s special and gives her anything she wants.”

“True enough. I’ve tried to be patient with the situation.”

“But then your daughter comes back puking because she’s eaten way too much junk.”

“That’s about it. It’s not just the sweets, though. Her grandma also promised to buy her a parrot—then I was the bad guy when I had to say no.”

“A parrot? Wow.” AnnaBeth subdued a laugh. “Did she offer to keep it at her house?”

“I suggested it, but no. She argued with me that it was for Mia. And of course, Mia kicked up a fuss, but at least I can control her .”

Tipping her head again, AnnaBeth asked, “What did you do?”

“I told her I wouldn’t let her play with Ruby if she didn’t behave.”

“Ha! Genius dad move.” She offered her other hand for a high-five.

With a grin, he complied. Her mood affected his own, making him more lighthearted. “Dana loved her mom, of course, and they were actually close, but they butted heads a lot, too.”

“Both individuals,” AnnaBeth surmised aloud. “With their own interests, priorities, and opinions, but still with that mother/daughter dynamic. I’m guessing that happens a lot with adult children.”

So intuitive. “My mom and I have always gotten along great—even before she moved to Florida.” They both laughed. “You said you didn’t have any close family, so how are you so smart about all this?”

Instead of taking his comment as the compliment he intended, she flushed in embarrassment. “I overstepped again, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to sound like a know-it-all.”

“AnnaBeth,” he murmured, wondering why she so readily assumed the worst. “I was being sincere. You have incredible understanding of the situation.”

Wearing a smile of doubt, she said, “Well, then, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Devlin decided to let it go. Now that they were getting closer, he’d have the opportunity to interact with her, and in the process, he’d show her all the ways she was appreciated.

Which was funny, because before now, he hadn’t realized how much she actually did for his uncle, for Mia—and yes, for him. AnnaBeth had been paying close attention to his family for a while now, but he’d been so mired in duty, in keeping it all together, he’d been oblivious.

“You mentioned mother/daughter dynamics. I think it’s often different for sons than daughters.”

“And from family to family,” she said.

He guessed she’d had experience with different families—none of them her own. “After Dana had Mia, she gained some weight. Totally natural, and she still looked great, but her mom kept offering her dieting advice and making subtle comments on the size of her thighs. Drove me nuts. I had to grit my teeth a lot.”

“I’m sure you lavished Dana with compliments to counter the negativity, right?”

“I did. You know how it is, though. Compliments fade, but insults stick.” Like AB Positive. He had a feeling that hadn’t been a kind nickname.

“Yeah.” Her gaze turned away from his. “Insults have a nasty way of digging deep.”

It bothered him, seeing her like this. “We’ve talked a lot about me.” Far too much, really. “Will you tell me more about you?”

“Eh, there’s nothing much to tell.” She tried a grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m just me.”

He thought she was pretty damned special. “You told me once that you’re a social media manager?” He wasn’t sure what that entailed. “You work from home?”

“That’s the cool part of the job. I don’t have to go anywhere.”

But if she didn’t date, either, then was she always alone? “What exactly does a social media manager do?”

“Hmm, well, a bunch of stuff, actually. I have a lot of accounts, some small and some large. I oversee the social media presence, so my clients are freed up for other stuff. I do campaigns, create content, and then analyze the success of stuff already in place, things like that.”

“What kind of campaigns?”

She seemed nonplussed by his interest, but gamely explained anyway. “So campaigns differ, depending on what the client wants. Some are after more reach, some want more followers, or they just want to drive traffic to their site. Maybe they have a new product to introduce, and they’re hoping to get it out there. Or they’re pushing a big sale, maybe a new feature.”

Fascinated, he asked, “You said you create content? What kind?” It was amazing to see the difference in her, a sort of animated surprise that she’d get to talk about her work.

“I love making videos. All kinds. Goofy or serious, really detailed or simple. I do most of it in a program using stock images or footage that I alter, but sometimes I get to stage the whole thing. It’s awesome when I go on-site, like to a factory or an office, and I can use the content there. Polls are always fun, and contests often work well if they get enough reach.” She gave the question some thought. “I recently did this big interactive campaign for a local business here. It was loads of fun and really got the community involved.”

“It sounds incredible. Very artsy.”

“I got a degree in marketing and graphic design. I wanted something I could use to be my own boss.” She wrinkled her nose again. “I don’t really mesh in the office environment.”

“Who says?”

Again, she looked nonplussed. “Well . . . I don’t know. I guess I’ve always been the odd duck that didn’t fit in. Growing up, I mean.”

Had that been her experience with her foster families? “Will you tell me something, AnnaBeth?”

Wary now, she said, “If I can.”

Apparently, he was pushy, because he wanted to know everything about her, not just the traits easily observed, the things he’d learned in day-to-day encounters, but her secrets, her hurts and expectations, any and every detail that made up AnnaBeth Posey Sanders.

He’d start with a simple question. “How many foster homes were you in?”

Her face flushed, and she quickly looked down at her tea. “Let’s just say a lot.”

“Hey.” He reached out, taking both her hands in his. “You realize that’s not on you, right?”

“Of course it’s on me.” Her chest lifted with a deep breath. “I mean, I know a lot of foster parents give up after a year, so I was just part of the statistics and all that. But it’s still personal, because I tried so hard.”

Had she been shuffled from one home to another every year ? He couldn’t even begin to imagine what that would do to a kid. Of course, his thoughts darted to Mia, and fierce protectiveness swelled within him. He’d take on the world to make sure she felt loved and secure, yet AnnaBeth had been utterly alone.

She let out a short breath. “Maybe if I’d been . . .”

“Different?” Less herself? God, no, he couldn’t imagine that. “Don’t think that way, okay? I happen to like who you are.”

Her fingertips drifted idly over the grain in the tabletop. “With some people, less is more, you know? I’m okay in small doses, but too much of me?” She shook her head. “I start to get annoying.”

Had someone actually told her that? “AnnaBeth, listen to me. Kids— all kids—are a challenge. It’s not easy for any parent. There are good times, and hellish times, and those times that rip out your heart.”

“I tried not to do that, though. Not to create anything hellish or hurtful.” Her mouth flattened. “Seemed it always happened anyway. And then I got the nickname.”

His heart ached. “AB Positive?”

“Guess trying to make everyone happy is as annoying as misbehaving.” Breath left her in a sigh. “I figured that out a little too late.”

Devlin wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but he was out of his chair and circling the table before he thought it through.

Lips parting in surprise, AnnaBeth stared up at him—until he caught her upper arms, gently drew her out of her seat, and brought her against his chest. The body-to-body contact was both startling and bolstering, like a hot drink on a wintery day.

Parts of him thawed that he hadn’t known were frozen. She was a gift—truly a gift—but she didn’t seem to realize it.

Closing his arms around her, he enfolded her in a hug that he needed, whether she did or not. “Parents have good and bad days like everyone else. They get short-tempered and say hurtful things they don’t mean.”

“They weren’t my parents, though—and I’m pretty sure they meant what they said.”

He seriously wanted to go back in time and somehow shield her from all the hurt. “I love your positive attitude. I hope you go on being AB Positive forever.” Somehow, he’d get her to see that nickname in a whole new way. “But when you aren’t feeling so upbeat, when things bother you or worry you, that’s okay, too. I promise.”

Slowly, her arms came up, and her hands opened on his back. Tentatively resting her cheek against his chest, she whispered, “I don’t know how to be any other way, at least not for long. Whenever I get down about something, I don’t like it, so I cheer myself up.”

I cheer myself up . It was such an AnnaBeth thing to say. How many times over the years had she needed to do that?

Likely, far too often—because she didn’t have family to help her with it.

Devlin leaned back to take in her earnest expression, then cupped his hands over her cheeks. “Great attitude.” As she started to smile, he kissed her—just a soft, two-second touching of lips, in case she objected. “You amaze me, AnnaBeth. Everything about you.”

Her eyes were wide, staring into his before dropping to his mouth. She tilted closer, maybe with the intent of another kiss . . .

Lightning cracked across the sky, sending a bright flash into the kitchen, followed a mere second later by a bellow of thunder. With a slight jump, she breathed, “Wow.”

The electricity died, filling the house with an eerie silence. Before either of them could comment on it, Mia shouted, “ Dad! ” with a tinge of panic.