Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“He’s very good at what he does,” I said. “And I’m so grateful to have his help with Snowberry. I don’t know what I’d have done without him.”
“He’s a good egg,” said the proud dad. “All my kids are good eggs. Got big hearts, like their mom had. Some of them just like to keep those hearts hidden. Tucked away where nobody can see how big they are.”
I smiled, wrapping my hands around the warm mug.
“Did Devlin tell you about the time and money he donates to that organization for kids who lost parents?”
“Camp Lemonade.” I nodded. “Yes.”
“Did he tell you that he’s been saving up money to build a second camp location?”
I set the mug down with a thump. “No.”
“I told him I’d help with the construction if he needed it.”
Right away, I heard Devlin’s words in my head. I have some money set aside. I swallowed hard. “I didn’t know about that. I guess we’re still learning things about each other.”
“That’s all right. That’s part of the fun, isn’t it? Unraveling someone’s mysteries, peeling away those protective layers.” He sipped his coffee. “I wasn’t sure Devlin would ever slow down enough to let someone get that close. You must have really stolen his heart.”
Guilt squeezed my insides. “I guess.”
“Well, I couldn’t be happier.” He got up from the table. “Come on. I have something for you.”
With dread pounding in my chest, I rose to my feet and followed him into a first-floor bedroom. It was tidy and masculine, a little old-fashioned. Oak dresser and headboard, faded wallpaper, a patchwork quilt across the foot of the neatly made bed. He went over to the dresser and opened a wooden box on its top while I lingered close to the doorway. My eyes were drawn to a photo of a beautiful sapphire-eyed woman on his nightstand—I knew right away it was Devlin’s mother. Not only had Devlin inherited her eyes, but also her full-lipped smile.
“Here we are.” George closed the box and turned to me. “I want you to have these.” He uncurled his fist, and on his palm was a beautiful pair of pearl drop earrings. “They belonged to my wife, Devlin’s mom. I gave them to her on our tenth anniversary. I hope you and Devlin will be as happy on your tenth anniversary as we were on ours.”
“Oh.” My throat closed up, and I put both hands on my chest. “I couldn’t possibly accept such a precious gift. You should keep those.”
“And do what with them? Let them collect dust in a box?”
“Mabel will want them,” I said quickly.
“Mabel has other pieces.”
“Maybe one of the other boys—”
“They have plenty to choose from. I spoiled my wife as often as I could, not that I could afford the real fancy expensive stuff. But the gifts were always given from the heart.” He smiled. “It will make me happy to see you wear them. I know it would make her happy too.”
Oh, God. My throat ached. The truth was a goose egg I couldn’t swallow. “Mr. Buckley—”
“Dad,” he corrected.
“Dad.” My voice cracked. “I’m—I’m not sure I deserve this.”
“Nonsense. Try them on.” He stood there with those earrings on his palm like a platter. “Please?”
What could I do? I picked up one and slipped it through the hole in my earlobe, then the other.
“Beautiful,” he said. “Just perfect. Have a look.”
Reluctantly, I faced my reflection in the mirror over the dresser. “They are beautiful,” I said, turning my head this way and that. The pearls dangled from small diamond studs that sparkled as they caught the light. My eyes filled with tears. “I’m—I’m overwhelmed. Thank you.”
He patted my shoulder. “Love is overwhelming. But it’s also a gift. Just enjoy it.”
FOURTEEN
devlin
When I reached Buckley’s Pub, I knocked on the locked glass door. Xander appeared on the other side, turned the bolt, and let me in. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” I strolled inside. “The place looks fucking great, Xander. Congrats.”
“Thanks.” His voice was oddly stern, and I turned around to see him standing there with his thick, tattooed arms folded across his chest. Eyes narrowed. Wide stance.
“What?” I asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because I’m trying to figure out if you’re crazy or just an asshole.”
“What do you mean?”
“Barely two weeks ago, you told me there was a girl standing in the way of closing a deal. You told me she couldn’t stand you. You told me nothing you said could get through to her. Last night you show up and announce you’re married to her?” He shook his head. “Something here does not add up.”
I shrugged. “The more we talked, the—”
“Nope. That might work on Dad and the ladies, but it’s not working on me. Tell me you didn’t marry her just to close a deal.”
“What?” My eyes nearly popped, and I clenched my jaw. “Fuck you, Xander. I’d never do that.”