Chapter 32
Another one-on-one with Devyn hadn’t been in his plans.
But how was a man supposed to say no when a beautiful woman texted and said she had important information to share that could affect him?
Even if the location she’d specified for their meeting was rather odd.
He parked on Main Street, slid out from behind the wheel, and surveyed the bench in front of what used to be Howard’s Hardware.
It was empty.
Then again, he was a tad early.
Like by fifteen minutes.
But summer Saturdays could be busy in Hope Harbor, and being late because he had to circle around searching for a parking place wasn’t an option.
He wandered down the street, trying to convince his galloping heart to decelerate.
It refused to listen.
No surprise.
It had been ignoring him since he and Isabel had run into Devyn and her sister at the tearoom last week, thanks to the images of her that kept scrolling through his mind . . . and his dreams.
Man, she’d looked sensational in her silky blouse and single strand of pearls. Just as beautiful, elegant, and appealing as she had the day they’d gone to the wedding.
The day she’d kissed him.
The day he’d kissed her back.
He dropped onto the bench, electricity thrumming through his veins.
There’d been serious chemistry going on between them. The kind that could have led to something deeper. More permanent.
If she’d been planning to hang around.
But she wasn’t.
So even if Isabel was right and it was already too late to protect his heart, keeping his distance had been prudent.
Except once Devyn had reached out to him, that plan had disintegrated.
Besides, as long as it was too late, why not make one more memory to help sustain him after she was gone?
He rested his elbow on the back of the bench as two seagulls fluttered onto the sidewalk six feet away. Jiggled his foot. Checked his watch every thirty seconds while he waited for her to appear.
When he at last caught sight of her emerging from The Perfect Blend, two drinks in hand, his heart skittered.
Taking a steadying breath, he pushed up the corners of his mouth and raised a hand in greeting.
After lifting one of the cups in response, she crossed the street and walked toward him.
As she drew close, he stood—and tried not to stare at her form-fitting leggings or the “I ? Hope Harbor” T-shirt that hit her mid-thigh.
Even in casual attire, she was the most elegant woman he’d ever met.
“Good morning.” She offered him a tentative smile and searched his face, as if trying to gauge his mood.
“Morning.” His voice rasped, and he cleared his throat.
“Thanks for meeting me.” She sounded a tad winded.
Make that two of them.
“No problem. Gramp was happy to watch Isabel.” More than happy, after he’d found out the reason for the request. Hope sprang eternal with that man.
“Thank him for me later. I, uh, asked Zach what you usually ordered. He said you were an Americano guy, with an extra shot of espresso. Black.” She held out one of the cups, a slight quiver in her fingers.
Odd.
He took his drink, studying her.
Could she possibly think he was upset about the kiss she’d initiated? Had she asked for this meeting today to clear the air before she went back to New York after the show?
If so, he should—
“Did I get it wrong?” She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Zach seemed certain about your preferences.”
“No. This is perfect.” He filled his lungs. No point beating around the bush. “Look, I’m not certain why you wanted to get together today, but if you’re worried I might be upset about what happened the day of the wedding, I’m not.”
Some of the tension in her features melted away. “I’m glad to hear that. It smooths the path for what I have to say. Could we sit for a few minutes?” She motioned to the bench.
“Sure.” He waited until she claimed a spot, then joined her, trying without success to figure out what this was all about.
She fiddled with the lid of her drink. Peeked at him from under those impossibly long lashes. “About that kiss. It was amazing. At least on my end.”
“Mine too.” In case there was any doubt in her mind.
She swallowed. Met his gaze straight on. “It was the kind of kiss that made me think the two of us could have potential.”
O-kay.
He took a slow sip of his Americano.
Where could she be heading with this?
Because as far as he could see, it was a dead end.
“In other circumstances, I’d agree.” He phrased his comment with care. “But it’s tough to sustain relationships if two people spend significant time apart.” And despite the buzz of electricity that charged the air whenever they were together, that wasn’t a challenge he wanted to tackle.
“Would you feel differently if distance wasn’t an issue?”
What?
She was talking in riddles.
“I don’t understand.”
“I have news.”
“I’m listening.”
“Mr. Howard’s hardware store is about to be transformed into Harbor Pointe Studio.” She motioned behind them. “I’m opening a ballet school in Hope Harbor.”
Her words registered, but the message refused to compute. “Wouldn’t you have to quit your job in New York to do that?”
“Yes. And I have. The company already had me slotted into the fall season, but I was able to negotiate a release from my contract after that. I should be able to get back here by mid-October. The timing will work out fine, since the renovations will take a while anyway.”
Out of everything she’d said, only one fact fully registered.
Devyn was going to live in Hope Harbor.
Apparently Gramp’s hopes hadn’t been unfounded after all.
A ripple of excitement . . . exhilaration . . . joy . . . surged through him.
But on the heels of elation came questions.
He wrapped both hands around his cup. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in years. But I thought retirement was several years in your future.”
“I did too, but the longer I stayed here, the less anxious I was to go back to the life I had in New York. Then opportunities began popping up, resources appeared—and I met an incredible guy. But to be honest, my decision wasn’t based on any expectations for us.
I’m leaving New York because this is where I want to be, with the sister I love in the town that’s always felt like home.
If you’re interested in exploring the sparks between us, I’m ready and willing.
If they end up fizzling, though, I don’t want you to feel any guilt about me giving up my job to move here. This is where I want to be.”
“Understood. And for the record, I’m very interested in exploring those sparks—which I don’t expect to fizzle. In fact, I’d like to start exploring them now, but you picked a very public place for this discussion.”
One of the seagulls cackled.
Cheek dimpling, she rooted around in her purse. Extracted a key and dangled it in front of him. “I signed the lease for the space behind us yesterday. Would you like a private behind-the-scenes tour? Or maybe I should say a behind-the-shelving tour?”
Pulse picking up yet again, he rose and waved toward the door. “After you.”
She stood, crossed to the entrance, and inserted the key in the lock.
Once inside, he gave the space a scan. Dust motes floated in the stale air, and the place smelled like a combination of fertilizer, paint, solvents, pine tar, WD-40, and burned coffee.
Not exactly ideal ambiance.
But it didn’t matter.
Anywhere with Devyn would be romantic.
She led him to the back of the store, behind a tall shelving unit. When she turned around, the invitation in her eyes was too hard to resist.
Not that he intended to try.
“At tea last Saturday, Lauren and I toasted to new beginnings.” She smiled. “This was one of the ones I was hoping for.”
“New beginnings are worth celebrating. But since I don’t have any tea on hand, let’s try this instead.”
He set his drink on a shelf. Took hers and put it next to his. Slid her shoulder bag free and set it beside the cups.
Then he grasped her hands and tugged her toward him.
She came without protest, nestling against him with a contented sigh that did more to stoke his libido than anything she could have said.
And as long as she’d dispensed with words, he did too. There were better ways to tell her how happy he was that she was staying.
He brushed her hair aside. Bent down. Nuzzled her neck.
A hum of pleasure purred in her throat, and she angled her head to give him more access.
Slow and easy, Steele. Take it slow and easy.
Excellent advice, if he could follow it.
Suppressing his impulse to fast-track the embrace, he trailed a kiss along her jaw. Traveled up to her cheek. Began a slow trek across her forehead.
At which point she cupped his face in her hands and directed his lips where she wanted them.
On hers.
No problem.
She matched him step for step in a kiss that morphed from passionate urgency to eager exploration before finally easing into a gentle tenderness filled with awe and wonder and gratitude.
When they at last came up for air, Devyn looked as dazed as he felt.
He tried to speak.
Failed.
She sucked in a breath. “That was . . . that was even more mind-blowing than I remembered.”
“Yeah.” It was all he could manage.
“But I think we have . . . we have more going for us than just the kissing.”
“I agree. Although phenomenal kissing doesn’t hurt.” He touched her cheek. Played with the silky strands of her hair. “And as long as we have this place all to ourselves, I think we should—”
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
As a male voice spoke from the front of the store, Devyn huffed out a breath. “I guess we should have locked the door.”
“We had other things on our mind.” He ran a finger along her jaw. “Still do, as a matter of fact.”
“Hold that thought.”
“I’ll get rid of the unwanted visitor.”
He slipped out of her arms and walked to the end of the shelving unit to find a fiftyish guy standing inside the front door. “Can I help you?”
The man peered around the dusty space. “Isn’t this a hardware store?”
“It used to be. The owner retired.”