“Please tell me you didn’t have to catch me,” he tried.
Anna didn’t answer.
She might be unconscious, knocked out by his flailing limbs. What if she had a black eye?
But then the plush chest at his back rose and fell. “Actually, more like you fell into my arms. Or maybe on me. Either way, I didn’t prevent the fall.”
Yep. He was definitely kicking Trevor’s ass.
Devlin lowered his head with a groan, the smallest sniffing and puffing coming from Anna.
He sat up to make sure she was okay. If she was crying, forget the ass-whooping, he was going to kill Trevor.
But, from the looks of things, Anna was more than okay.
Hands over her mouth and eyes squeezed shut, she rolled onto her side, and began to laugh with her entire body. “I’m sorry.” She fanned her face.
“Um.” He blinked, trying not to get distracted by the sight of her in the throes of laughing at him. “I’m pretty sure I should be the one apologizing. I knocked you down. In a full-body backward tackle.”
That didn’t help. She only laughed harder. “I . . . I don’t know why it’s so funny, but . . . I thought you were going to catch yourself, and then you started . . .” She imitated his windmill imitation.
“Yes, yes.” He caught her arms midflight. “I’m sure I looked awesome, falling to my death.”
“Then I thought, should I try to catch you? But that didn’t work either, and splat!” Anna snorted and sniffed, easing herself to sit up.
Chances were good this was how he finally died of embarrassment. Not all the dumb shit he did in college or the time he got busted for streaking at a Halloween party. But because he’d ruined a perfectly great, sexy encounter by falling on his ass.
“I am so sorry,” he repeated.
“You mean that isn’t how you normally welcome guests?” she teased, swiping the laugh tears from her eyes.
“No.”
“Oh good, then I’m special.” Anna’s unhindered smile was crippling in its beauty, putting her earlier smiles to shame. They were shadows of the real thing.This smile crashed into him harder than the fall.
She dabbed at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Don’t look so embarrassed.”
“I am embarrassed.” He’d knocked down a girl. Since he was three years old he’d been taught that was something you simply did not do.
Roark could never find out about this.
With a shake of his head, Dev got up and held out a hand to help her up as well. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She took his hand, letting him lift her to her feet. “I’m fine, I swear. Are you okay?”
“You broke my fall, remember? The only thing hurting is my pride.”
One more giggle squeaked out. “Please don’t let it hurt your pride. I needed that laugh. You have no idea how much.”
“Well, anytime you need me to make an ass out of myself, I rarely disappoint. You’re guaranteed a laugh. Just let me know.”
“I will. Thanks.” Anna hadn’t stopped smiling since he’d landed, and he was still holding her hand.
Devlin made himself let go, digging his fingers back through his hair. “You’re welcome. Anything to please a guest.”
Her smile shifted as she bit at her lips.
“So, I’m going to go,” he announced. “Before I accidentally knock you down again or, I don’t know, ruin your hair and makeup.” He grabbed the ladder and made haste to the door. “Enjoy the rest of your stay.”
“I will.” She followed him again, opening the door to let him out.
He went directly to the truck, loaded the ladder, and wasn’t looking back. Staring at her, at someone he wouldn’t be getting, or getting anywhere near, was only torturing himself. Which was why, when he reached the driver’s door, he looked back.
Anna gave him a little wave, the late afternoon sun throwing her figure into a dark silhouette, but there was no missing that smile. “See you later.”
And wasn’t that the rub?
He would see her later.
He’d probably see her every day for her entire stay. If he saw her day after day, with run-ins like today, flirty smiles and needy glances, how was he supposed to be this new Dev? The Dev who didn’t thumb his nose at rules, the guy who did what he was supposed to and never got out of line.
Once he got the truck backed and turned around, he checked the rearview mirror, on the off chance Anna lingered.
There she stood, watching him leave, before going inside with a spin of thick hair and a whole lot of curves.
Holy hell, he was screwed.
Chapter 3
She should’ve gone to dinner at the inn last night.
Not going hadn’t stopped her from thinking about Devlin, going over every little thing about him until she drifted off to sleep. Thick thighs, the way his lips curled when he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the outer edge. Inexplicably boyish and rugged. The way he moved, confident—except for when stumbling off a ladder.
A smile took over her face and, even though she was alone in the cabin’s little loft bedroom, she pulled a pillow over her face to hide it.
Laughing at him for falling wasn’t the best reaction, but she couldn’t help it. He’d commanded attention in the hallway, making her off-kilter and weak-kneed. The advantage was his, and she’d found herself titillated but a teensy bit intimidated by how easily he turned her into a tingling, horny mess of a woman.
Devlin falling on his butt put her at ease and made him human. More importantly, it’d made her laugh.
She snorted into the pillow again. He was still hot, even as he took both of them out with his arms flapping about.
Devlin was sexy, funny, and he made her want . . . things.
And that’s why she’d skipped dinner.
She wasn’t ready for things. The whole point of her being here was to heal and deal, not to lust after a gorgeous mountain man who was good with his hands.
She’d never been a flirt, but yesterday she’d given Devlin the eye; staring at him, smiling and waving and generally acting like a fifteen-year-old in his presence.
Looks of disappointment suddenly crowded her vision, a voice chastising her even when she was alone.
Maybe reverting to a teenager was the sign of another impending breakdown.
She’d batted her eyelashes at him, for crying out loud. How could she possibly trust herself to go to Bradley’s for dinner? Now she was hungry enough that the pulverized pack of crackers in the bottom of her purse sounded like a delicacy.
Her stomach growled in agreement.
Sitting up in bed, she was at eye level with the den’s ceiling fan.
Devlin was why she’d avoided the restaurant, but she couldn’t stay away today. Hunger gnawed and she had zilch on hand, cracker dust not counting as food.
She shoved off the covers and made her way down the narrow stairs to the kitchen.
No food meant no coffee. She opened the front door of her cabin, and stepped out onto the porch in her pajamas and bare feet. The high vantage point gave her all the privacy in the world, and the cool morning air woke her up, a little.
She had reasons to be here. Important reasons and they had nothing to do with Devlin Bradley.
Her therapist was big on purpose and being present in the moment. Her purpose while at Honeywilde was finding a way to let go, learning to relax, and figuring out how to avoid blacking out at work again like she was having some kind of attack.
The part about how she was supposed to do all of that remained a mystery. She had weekly calls set up with her therapist and a stack of recommended reading. Beyond that, Susan told her she trusted Anna’s ability to heal herself.
Ha!
Clearly Susan didn’t understand the levels of inability Anna could reach, or how awesome she was at not dealing with a situation. But that was progress, right? Knowing you suck at dealing. Acknowledgment being part of the whole process and everything. Or was that only for AA?
“Good Lord, shut up,” she told herself.
Almost three weeks of babbling to herself wasn’t going to help her feel better. It’d drive her over the edge.
Her stomach pinched, giving off a sound like whales mating.
She needed food. Now. If Devlin was there, she’d have to keep her stares to herself.
By the time she made it from her cabin to the main inn, it was almost ten in the morning, and most breakfast-goers had already gone.
“Table for one, or will someone be joining you?” The hostess gave her a friendly smile. Anna could’ve choked on it.
“Just me.” Table for one, for the rest of her stay.
“Follow me, please.” The hostess led her to a small table by the stretch of windows.
Please don’t growl, she prayed to her stomach. Don’t do it, don’t do it. I’m feeding you right now.
A white cloth covered the table, with fresh cut flowers placed in the center. The meal might only be breakfast, but Bradley’s exuded charming sophistication and romanticism.
She had to get to a grocery store today.
Dining solo wasn’t anything new for her, but here it felt awkward and wrong.
A couple of tables held guests who finished up as her waiter poured her first cup of coffee.
Yay. A whole restaurant alone. That was one way to get away from it all. “It all” being other humans. She didn’t even have her cell phone as a distraction.
Technically, she had it, but it remained off and in a drawer back at the cabin. She’d been asked to minimize usage to weekly calls with Susan and emergencies.
Avoid social media and burying your face in a screen. You’re going on vacation. Try living in the now.
This, for a woman with a job that was predominantly social media and internet based. Her fingers twitched and she itched to plug in, but she didn’t.
She could do this. Live in the present, take in the world around her, find the joy in life. Anything to avoid falling apart again.
“Would you be interested in our pancake special?” The waiter reappeared at her table. “Blueberry pancakes, eggs made to order . . .”
He kept talking, but all she heard was the word pancakes, then Devlin entered the restaurant.
“Yes. Pancakes. And whatever comes with it.” She handed over her menu and looked out the window at the mountains before Devlin could make eye contact.
Yesterday was certainly something, but there couldn’t be an encore. Focus should be on herself. She had books to read, walks to take. The resort offered a craft class every week, she’d seen in the cabin’s guest services binder.
Crafts sounded good. Much safer than Devlin.
She snuck a glance from the corner of her eyes.
Yep. Still undeniably attractive, all man with a naughty-schoolboy smirk as he spotted her. He strolled over with long strides and a disarming twinkle in his eyes, the kind of guy who’d get her into trouble, if she ever got into trouble.
Which she didn’t.
“Morning,” he said, still several tables away, forcing her to either look at him or pretend she was oblivious.
She glanced up. “Oh. Good morning, Devlin.”
He gave her a grin that scrunched the bridge of his nose. “Y’know, I think you can call me Dev. Now that I’ve landed on you, you’ve earned the use. How are you doing today? Not too bruised, I hope.”
With a quick glance down at her coffee, she fought not to react in any way. “I’m fine, as far as I can tell.”
“Good.” He didn’t join her at the table, but stood behind the chair across from her, leaning his weight against it with his hands anchored across the back. The position made the muscles in his forearms roll and stretch. “You didn’t make it to dinner last night.”
“No, I—” Her gaze shot to his. “How’d you know?”
“Well, I was trying to be a gentleman.” He winked at her. The action was subtle, but the effect was strong enough her insides did a few somersaults. “I told the hostess, if you came in, dinner was on me. You know, to make up for yesterday.”
“That’s really nice of you.”
And flattering. Her body buzzed with the high of his attention, and a familiar pang of guilt began to smother the nugget of joy. “Thank you, but by the time I unpacked, it was too late for dinner.”
“That’s okay. You’re having breakfast this morning. On me.” He waved down her waiter, his voice low as he spoke, exuding the same kind of confidence she did when she was working.
As the waiter walked away, their gazes met.
“I’d join you, but I have to meet my brother in a few minutes.”
Her heart thumped as she struggled with what to say.
An unhealthy amount of time had been spent thinking about him last night. The levelheaded part of her brain pointed out that all of this nonsense, ogling Devlin and flirting, was a way of avoiding the issues she should be facing.
She could concentrate on Devlin, his smile, intense blue eyes, and great hair. Or she could think about her father’s death.
All of her vacation could be spent trying like hell to deal, and likely failing. More than six months had gone by, and she still struggled to accept that he’d been taken way too soon. She had to go through life without the person who loved and supported her. How was she supposed to magically make peace with that?
She could focus fully on the task of grief and coping with a stressful job, squash this interest between her and Devlin—Dev. Or she could leave the door open, and simply see what happened. Live in the moment. Find joy in the now.
She opened her mouth, unsure of what to say until the words spilled out. “Maybe you could join me some other time?”
She never did this, opening herself up to a guy. It made no sense to be doing it now, but maybe that’s why she was able. Flirting with him was a rush that swept the sadness away.
Dev’s eyes flashed, the pale color hypnotic the longer she looked at him. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Devlin.” The oldest brother, Roark, approached their table, shooting a quick look between them.
“Hey, Roark. You remember Anna, our Cabin Five guest.”
“Ms. Martel. Good morning.” He nodded, looking nowhere near as happy to see her as Devlin.
As he went to sit a few tables away, Devlin shook his head. “I better go get this over with. Enjoy your breakfast.”
Dev joined his brother, and Roark sat with his back to her, his breadth blocking her view of Devlin.
Just as well. She needed to eat her breakfast and find out how to get to the local grocery store.
The waiter topped off her coffee and set an enormous plate of food in front of her.
“What’s this?” She nodded to the spread of breakfast food before her.
“The pancake special you ordered. Eggs, bacon, grits, biscuits, and of course, blueberry pancakes.” He beamed, and then left her with the buffet.
“Alright then, I got the lumberjack breakfast. Fabulous.” She wide-eyed her choice, but started on the pancakes, trying not to listen to the conversation a couple of tables down.
“I may need you to take on more around the resort,” Roark said.
“I’d—” Devlin’s voice caught. “I want to. You know I do. But the festival is something I can handle as well. On the side.”
“A big festival isn’t exactly a side project, Dev. And it’s a huge expense.”
They were not partaking in any pancake specials and their coffees sat on the table between them, untouched.
Devlin leaned forward and Anna found something to look at, outside the nearest window.
“We can sponsor the Blueberry Festival and help out the town, or do nothing and come off like we don’t give a damn about anyone but ourselves.”
“It’s not like that. Of course we give a damn, but I can’t risk losing tons of money on a new project right now. We have enough to work on here, tons of stuff still needs updating. All that festival has done is bleed green for the
last few years.”
“I told you, we won’t lose money.” Devlin’s sharp tone grabbed Anna’s full attention. “I’m not clueless, tossing out this suggestion. I looked into things.”
“Okay. Relax.” Roark took a quick glance around, but right now, she was the only other person in the restaurant.
The two were obviously having some sort of deep family business discussion that she shouldn’t be hearing. But their discussion was hard not to hear when she was listening in so carefully.
Anna reached for her purse. She needed something to do while eating alone. Their conversation was none of her business.
Normally she’d work on her phone, play a silly game, something. A book made a decent dining companion, but her To Be Read pile was back at the cabin.
She dug through her bag and only one item qualified as reading material, of sorts. A pamphlet of local activities and shops. She’d grabbed it from the binder in her cabin, hoping a list of grocery stores might be included.
Cracking open the pamphlet, she vowed to focus only on the words in front of her face, not the ones being spoken at the other table.
Devlin muttered something else to his brother, and grabbed his mug to take a long sip of what had to be lukewarm coffee by now. “I don’t know why the festival struggled the last couple of years, but we can be the main sponsor and make money. I know it.”
“I’d have to look at the numbers first. In black and white. All of them.”
“Jesus, Roark.” Dev set his mug down with a thud. “Waiting for you to look at numbers ’til you’re satisfied could take months. We need to jump on this right now or there won’t be a festival at all this year.”
His brother leaned in, keeping his voice low, but Anna could still hear. “The town hasn’t had one in years anyway. I’m not jumping into anything right now.”
“Then you’re rejecting my idea flat out. Again.”
Anna held the pamphlet, cover folded back, with every intention of reading the first page, but the words blurred in light of the conversation nearby.
“I’m not rejecting your idea flat out. I’m saying I need to know more. Get me the figures so I can make a decision.”
“How am I supposed to get you the figures? We haven’t been involved in any part of the Blueberry Festival for the past decade.”
A Date with Desire Page 3
