The Truest Thing: Hart's Boardwalk #4

by Samantha Young

  Emery’s Bookstore and Coffeehouse had been open for a week.

  That first weekend had been very busy with tourists and locals. It was an extremely difficult few days in which I’d wondered if I’d made a colossal mistake. I was a shy person—there was no getting around that. Not only did I find small talk uncomfortable but I had trust issues a mile long, which made it hard for me to make myself vulnerable enough to befriend most people.

  Since moving to Hartwell two months ago, I’d befriended Iris and Ira Green. They owned Antonio’s, the boardwalk pizzeria. I’d trusted them almost immediately. There was just something so genuinely good about them, even if Iris was blunt. She reminded me of my grandmother a little, minus the cold ruthlessness. She’d even aided me with the tradesmen that helped create the look of the bookstore and coffeehouse. She tried to teach me how to be more assertive with them, to tell them exactly what I wanted done.

  I think she saw how panicked I was when she popped into the store that first weekend. Her brief pep talk calmed me down when she reminded me it wouldn’t be like this all the time. People were just curious about me.

  And she was right. By the end of the week, the store was quieter. Most people who popped in were tourists and since it was hot, they were usually there to buy a beach read and iced tea. I had some regulars already appearing in the morning for coffee, but today’s caffeine rush had just ended.

  “I have my own business,” I muttered as I picked up the paperback I was reading and sat down on the stool behind the counter. I didn’t take the rare and blessedly quiet moments of free time for granted. There always seemed to be something to do, even after hours, so I had to get my reading in when I could.

  The bell above the door rang, drawing my attention.

  The man striding into the store caused my breath to catch.

  Jack Devlin.

  Iris had told me his name when she caught me looking at him for the hundredth time when we were at Cooper’s Bar weeks ago.

  Jack was tall. I hadn’t realized how tall until I saw him around town. And now, as he walked to the counter with a slight smile on his face, I realized he had to be about six four. Which was perfect for me because I was five ten.

  Not perfect for me, I reminded myself.

  Iris said he was a player.

  I’d had enough of those to last a lifetime.

  Not that I would get involved with a Devlin. Or that I was ready to get involved with anyone. My business was my priority.

  Yet, staring up into Jack’s handsome face, it was hard to remember any of that. It had been like this from the first moment I saw him. He wore jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and tan construction boots. I was used to men wearing suits or preppy clothes.

  Jack and his best friend Cooper dressed similarly, and together they were unfairly hot.

  Jack alone was … wow.

  He had these beautiful, expressive eyes, and he was now close enough that I could see they were a dark bluish gray, striking against his naturally tan complexion. His hair was dark blond, thick, and disheveled like he was always running his fingers through it. Jack Devlin wasn’t as in your face handsome as Cooper, but to me he was even sexier. It was his height, his loose-limbed walk, the exaggerated power of his broad shoulders against his lean build. And there was something about his eyes and the mischievous quirk to his mouth that was difficult to resist.

  “Emery, right?” Jack stopped in front of the counter as I stumbled off my stool to greet him.

  My cheeks and neck felt like they were on fire, so I knew I was blushing like crazy, which only made me more embarrassed and increased the flushing.

  His lips twitched as his eyes took in the sight.

  “I’m Jack Devlin.” He held out his hand for me to shake.

  To my shock, I didn’t even have to think about it. I wanted to feel his hand against mine, so I reached for him. As soon as I did, he clasped it tight. Our eyes locked, the breath leaving me as goose bumps rose across my arms.

  Jack’s eyes narrowed and his grip tightened.

  He didn’t shake my hand.

  He just held it.

  This caused a swooping sensation in my gut and I let out a little sound of surprise.

  Jack’s eyes dropped to my mouth, and I watched as his jaw clenched.

  Quite abruptly, he released my hand, and I had to stop my arm from hitting the counter.

  He cleared his throat and looked swiftly around the shop. “You settling in okay?”

  I was grateful for the question.

  It allowed me time to remember that Jack was a Devlin and his father, Ian Devlin, was to be avoided at all costs. This wasn’t just because of the information Iris and Ira had provided me with about everyone in town.

  I’d known about Ian Devlin before I moved to Hartwell.

  He’d tried to buy the Burger Shack when he learned of my grandmother’s death.

  Hague had dealt with him but had warned me to avoid Devlin. He said he was an unscrupulous businessman, and he’d used private investigators to discover my true identity. It made me uncomfortable that someone here knew who I was, but Hague seemed convinced it wouldn’t be in Devlin’s best interest to tell the entire town about me.

  From Iris’s account, his eldest sons Stu and Kerr worked for Ian and were just as disliked around town. She said the exceptions were his daughter Rebecca and his second youngest son Jack. They took after their mother, Rosalie, who’d been well liked until she became more and more reclusive. Jamie, the youngest Devlin, was a late baby and it was too soon to tell which way he’d go.

  As for Jack, Iris had nothing but good to say. But she’d warned me that he was the town player and only “dated” tourists.

  He wasn’t for me.

  Even if I wasn’t a shy, bumbling twenty-year-old with trust issues.

  “Yes, thank you,” I replied to his question, studying his strong profile.

  He turned to me and I blushed harder for being caught staring at him.

  Jack’s lips quirked into that mischievous smirk. “How are you liking Hartwell?”

  Small talk.

  I was awful at small talk.

  I nodded. “I like it.”

  This made Jack grin. And just like that, it knocked the breath out of me.

  Oh boy.

  He had the best smile I’d ever seen. It gave him these sexy crinkles at the corner of his eyes. It was a boyishly naughty smile, the smile of someone up to no good and at complete odds with the kindness in his eyes. The overall effect was detrimental to my heart.

  A person could melt a marshmallow on my cheeks.

  His eyes actually twinkled. “We’re glad to have you here, Emery.”

  The sound of his deep voice saying my name caused another swooping sensation in my belly. I exhaled and stammered as I turned to point at the price board behind me. “C-coffee?”

  At his silence, I glanced back at him.

  He was looking at the silver bangles on my wrist.

  Strange.

  His eyes flew to my face and his voice sounded rougher when he replied, “Americano.”

  Grateful to have something to do, I turned from him and made his coffee. Neither of us spoke again.

  When he handed over cash, I touched the five-dollar bill by the tip of it so our fingers wouldn’t brush. I slid his change across the counter.

  “Thanks.”

  I forced myself to meet his gaze again. “You’re welcome.”

  “See you around.”

  I nodded.

  Jack tipped the to-go cup toward me and turned to stride out of the store. I held my breath the entire time. The bell tinkled above the door and then he was gone.

  I let out air like a deflating balloon and sagged against my counter.

  Typical me, I thought. I would have to develop a crush on the one guy I shouldn’t want.

  3

  Jack

  Hartwell

  Seven years ago

  Waking up to a phone call from Ian was not Ja
ck’s favorite thing in the world. He answered it because he knew Ian would just keep calling until he did. He answered it even knowing what the call would be about. Every two months or so, Ian liked to call and berate Jack for not coming into the family business. Jack didn’t know what Ian hoped to accomplish with these phone calls other than to irritate his son.

  There was a cure to Jack’s current mood, however, and it was on the boardwalk.

  Sure, Emery’s coffee was the best in town and he’d taken to going every morning, Monday to Friday, before work to grab himself a coffee. On the mornings he and Cooper ran on the beach, they’d go to Emery’s together and the buffer of Cooper was much appreciated.

  Cooper found Emery’s shyness awkward as fuck. If it weren’t for her coffee, he’d probably avoid the place.

  Not Jack.

  Jack thought every blush, every stutter, was so adorable, he couldn’t stand it. There was something mysteriously feminine about Emery Saunders. He wanted to know all her secrets. He wanted to make her laugh, to know what it sounded like.

  And he wanted to be the one to discover if she blushed all over.

  In the two years Emery had lived in Hartwell, no one had learned much about her. The people of Hartwell understood that she was painfully shy, so it wasn’t like they disliked her. It was just that they would always consider her an outsider while she didn’t participate in town events and befriend folks.

  It annoyed Jack. Someone should make more of an effort. He’d talked with Bailey Hartwell about it, and she’d tried to approach Emery, but it had backfired. Bailey’s lack of filter had led her and Jack to deduce that she was a little too intimidating for Emery.

  Someone more reserved needed to approach the shy newcomer. He’d asked Cat, Cooper’s sister. Although she was as blunt as Bailey, she didn’t have Bailey’s overwhelming energy or reputation as the town princess.

  Cat, unfortunately, was like her big brother and was uncomfortable with Emery’s timidity.

  She was also suspicious of Jack’s motives, as were Cooper and Bailey … so Jack stopped asking folks to look out for Emery.

  He’d just have to do it himself, but from a distance.

  Little did he know he’d have to do it that morning.

  Jack pushed open the door to Emery’s, a smile prodding his lips at the mere anticipation of seeing her. That smile disappeared at the sight of the man aggressively shouting at Emery.

  “I bought it yesterday. I should be able to return it!” the man waved a book in her face.

  Emery was scarlet with embarrassment and concern. “S-sir … as I’ve—as I’ve tried to explain, the book is damaged. You’ve clearly read—”

  “I want my money back, moron, end of story!” he yelled, making her flinch back in fright.

  Furious, Jack pushed past the guy waiting in line and grabbed the aggressor by the scruff of the neck to shove him away from the counter. He stumbled, almost going to his ass.

  “What the fuck?” He glared at Jack as he straightened.

  Jack glowered down at the tourist. “You do not get in the face of any woman in my town, asshole.”

  The man waved his book at Jack. “The bitch won’t give me my money back.”

  Oh, he really wanted to hit this loser. Jack took a step toward him. “You watch your mouth, or I’ll make you watch your mouth.”

  He swallowed. “Look, there’s no need for threats. I just want my money back.”

  “No need for threats? You don’t think screaming at a woman in her establishment is threatening for her?” Jack looked at the book in his hands. The spine was bent to shit, the pages speckled in sand. “This isn’t a fucking library. You bought the book, you read the book, end of fucking transaction. You got me?”

  “I—”

  Jack moved right into his space, shutting him up. “I don’t care what your problem is, why you need to treat a woman like shit to make yourself feel like a big man. But you’re not a big man. You’re a bug. A bug I’ll squash if I see you in here or anywhere near Emery again. Got me?”

  Despite the rage flickering in the man’s eyes, cowardice won out. Without another word, he marched out of the store, slamming the door behind him.

  Dick.

  Jack turned back to Emery who seemed a little dazed. “You okay?”

  She nodded slowly.

  Jack gestured to the man waiting in line who looked embarrassed too. Probably because he’d just stood there while that guy tore into Emery. Once the customer got his coffee, Jack was alone in the store with her.

  He loved and hated these moments of aloneness.

  She was pure temptation.

  He couldn’t have her.

  But, fuck, did he want her.

  His blood was up after dealing with that little shit, and it was harder to ignore the urgency of that want.

  Drifting to the counter, he enjoyed the way she watched him. Anytime he saw her around town, she had a faraway look on her face, as if she was somewhere else. She was like this when she served her customers. But not with him. Jack always got her entire focus.

  And he liked that more than he could say.

  “You sure you’re all right?” he asked as she began making his and Cooper’s Americano without him having to ask.

  She nodded, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Thank you.”

  “That happen a lot?”

  “The angry customer?”

  “Yeah.” Jack didn’t like the thought of her being alone in here all the time. She needed to hire someone else to work along with her. He’d thought she would. But it had just been her for the entire two years she’d been here.

  “Now and then, but rarely, customers can be unpleasant.” She set his coffee on the counter. “But nothing like that. I’m sorry you had to deal with it. I wish I were better with confrontation.”

  “I’m not sorry. I’m glad I could be here. That asshole has anger problems. It wasn’t about you.”

  She nodded again.

  His concern for her frustrated him. “Why don’t you try to make more friends in town?”

  There she went, blushing again. The white dress she wore beneath her short apron had a V-neckline so he could see even her chest flushed. Jack tried not to look. He always tried not to look. The dress had tight sleeves at the upper arms and then they puffed out from the elbow to the wrist where the fabric was tight around the wrist. The bodice was tight, hinting at perfect breasts and a narrow waist that flared at the hips. Jack couldn’t tell with her standing behind the counter if the dress was long or short, only that it loosened around the hips.

  Silver jewelry dripped off her, and her hair was tied in a fancy-looking side braid, hanging down over her right breast.

  Emery Saunders was like a fairy princess come to life.

  Or an angel.

  Yeah. A goddamn angel.

  Jack, at once, wanted to protect her from everything, arm her with a metaphorical sword and teach her to fight for herself, and he wanted to dirty up those angel wings by rolling around in bed while she wore only her silver jewelry. He wanted to hear it jangle so badly, it hurt.

  Christ, he was so lost in his lustful thoughts, he momentarily forgot what he’d asked her when she replied, “It’s not that easy for me.”

  Remembering he’d asked her about making friends, he leaned his hands on the counter, bringing them closer. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and his gut clenched.

  Jack knew Emery was attracted to him.

  That knowledge made avoiding temptation extremely hard.

  Literally.

  “Why isn’t it easy?”

  “I … I find small talk difficult.”

  “You’re small talking with me.”

  “I …” She frowned. “I don’t think talking about my shyness is really considered small talk.”

  “Okay.” Jack leaned away, crossing his arms over his chest. “Emery, it’s a beautiful day today, don’t you think?”

  Her lips twitched with amusement, making Jack fee
l about fifteen feet tall. “Yes, it’s very nice today.”

  “Has the shop been busy?”

  “It’s busy every morning. People need their coffee. Are you on your way to work?”

  Elated that she’d asked him a question, Jack grinned. “I am. I’m on my way to a restaurant we’re renovating in Dewey Beach.”

  “Do you like your job?”

  “I do. Do you like yours?”

  “Surprisingly, yes. I thought when I first opened, maybe it was a mistake … you know, with the whole small-talk thing being hard for me. But I like it. I love being surrounded by books.” She gestured to the stacks behind him, those silver bangles tinkling around her wrist.

  “How long has this affair with books been going on?”

  She grinned at him now, and Jack felt that smile like a punch to the gut. It was the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. That smile was like the sunrise across the ocean. There was nothing more beautiful to Jack than watching the sun start its languorous climb in the morning. The way it moved across the water as the sky transformed through shades of purple to pink to orange. Jack had never seen anything as awe-inspiring as the sunrise over Hart’s Boardwalk. Until Emery Saunder’s smile. Jesus Christ, she was so beautiful. And she had no idea. The complete opposite of Cooper’s wife, who knew she was a beauty and used it to get what she wanted.

  “Since I was five. But it became something of an obsession when I turned twelve.”

  “Why?”

  Her gaze lowered. “That’s when my parents and grandfather died. I went to live with my grandmother.” Her eyes flew to his, like she couldn’t believe she’d told him that.

  Of course, Jack had looked her up and knew from the articles that her family died when their private plane crashed.

  “I’m very sorry for your loss, Em.”

  Her eyes widened, perhaps at his use of a nickname. “Thank you. It was a long time ago.”