Page 11 of Dangerous December (Northern Pines Suspense #8)

“Apparently, my mother grew generous in her old age. She funded two of their youth trips to the Twin Cities last year and donated money for their choir robes the year before.” If he’d said that Vivian had flown to the moon, he couldn’t have sounded more mystified by her generosity. “So now they want to return the favor.”

“That’s sweet.” She hesitated. “I know you and your parents didn’t get along when you were in high school. And...I know they weren’t fair. But maybe they changed, later. Or maybe they had a better side that you didn’t see.”

“Possibly.” He hitched his good shoulder. “I’d still rather pay the youth group and keep things square.”

She lifted her hands in frustration. “Send them an anonymous donation, in care of the church. I’m sure they can put it to good use.”

He nodded. “I’ll do that.”

At the weariness in his voice, she looked up at the pallor of his skin and the fine lines of tension bracketing his mouth.

She knew he’d never admit to being in pain, even if it robbed him of sleep and made each day a struggle.

Whatever military code of honor he subscribed to, it allowed no admission of weakness of any kind.

“How is your shoulder?”

“Good.”

No surprise there. “And how are things at the motel?”

“Fine.”

“Clean? Comfortable? Quiet?”

“If I’m not in a tent in some desert, it’s all good.”

“That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement. How are the midnight trains?”

That earned a wry laugh. “Right on time. Every night.”

“And the four a.m.?”

His half smile faded. “Ditto.”

After being there over a week, she could only imagine how it felt to be shaken awake at all hours by fifty-car trains rumbling past just a few dozen yards from the motel. Especially when he needed the healing balm of deep, restful sleep.

“So when are you moving into the cottage?”

“As soon as I get time. It works just fine as a storage shed, now.”

“In other words, it’s packed to the rafters with odds and ends.” She flashed a bright smile at a lanky teenager carrying a garbage can bristling with a full load of scrap wood. “Hey, Ryan. Would you kids be up for another project this weekend? It’s the guest cottage behind Sloane House—”

“That isn’t necessary,” Dev cut in sharply. “But thanks anyway.”

The sandy-haired boy glanced uncertainly between them as they stared each other down, then he shrugged and continued on his way.

“You don’t have to be stubborn just on principle,” Beth hissed. “I was only trying to help.”

Dev waited until the boy disappeared out the front door. “Thanks, but I don’t need help.”

“The kids could clear that cottage out in an hour. ”

“But I already paid for the full week at the motel, and I’m in no hurry to move at any rate.” Dev’s narrowed eyes fixed on hers. “I don’t remember you being such a take-charge kind of gal.”

“I’m sure you don’t remember anything at all about me.” The words stumbled from her lips, unbidden, driven by the raw emotions that she’d tried to hide since Devlin had come to town.

“Look,” she added tersely. “I happily live on my own. I run my own business. I want everything to run just as smoothly during our brief partnership. That’s a reasonable expectation, isn’t it?”

He nodded, eyeing her as if she were some roadside bomb that might explode any second.

Around them, there was a bustle of activity. The banter and laughter of teenagers. Dev stood still as granite with a faraway look in his eyes, oblivious for a long moment.

He finally sighed. “You’re right.”

She’d been ready to argue another point, and his quiet words took her aback.

A chorus of whoops and hollers rose from the four corners of the building, followed by the sound of thundering feet as a herd of teenagers ran down the stairs to meet a delivery girl standing in the doorway with a stack of pizza boxes in her arms.

“That didn’t take long.” The tense set of his jaw relaxed, probably in relief at the interruption. “Excuse me—I need to pay her. Want some pizza?”

Beth shook her head.

Pulling his wallet from a back pocket, he strode to the delivery girl and smiled as he handed her four twenties plus a big tip.

He helped her spread out the pizza boxes on a makeshift table set up between a couple of sawhorses, and sent some of the boys out to her van for canned sodas.

It was the first time in years that she’d seen him offer such an unguarded smile without the filter of the emotional baggage he carried.

It was a smile that deepened the laugh lines fanning from the corners of his eyes and the deep creases bracketing his mouth, and her heart kicked in an extra beat.

She’d been so entranced by his deep dimples and his innate charisma years ago. He’d drawn her like no one else ever had...and she’d fallen completely, irrevocably in love...

Well, maybe not as irrevocably as she’d once thought. She closed her eyes, willing that image to disappear.

Despite everything that had happened before and after he’d walked out of her life, he still had the power to affect her as no one else ever had, and that was so unfair.

At a tug on her sleeve, she opened her eyes and found a teen with a high, bouncy ponytail staring at her with a worried expression.

“Are you okay, Ms. Carrigan? You look kinda pale. Are you dizzy? Maybe you should sit down.”

Dizzy...pale...

Beth could believe it, but sitting down wasn’t going to help. What she needed right now was distance. “I’m fine. You’d probably better get over there and grab some more pizza before the boys wolf it down.”

“If you’re sure...” The girl hesitated, then ran over to join her friends who were digging into the pizza boxes.

Maura had been right when she’d said it was a shame that Beth had to deal with Dev all over again...but not for the reasons she’d imagined.

He had shattered Beth’s life long ago, far past repairing, but there was a small part of her that still hadn’t let him go.

Maybe it was better to tell him the truth. She would find the right time...one of these days. She’d gather her courage, and once it was over, she could finally, completely erase him from her heart.

A wave of anxiety roiled through her midsection at the thought. Anxiety that would build and build and rob her of sleep the longer she waited. Maybe, she needed to get it over...

Tomorrow.