by Jillian Hart
Dev arched a brow. “So you threw a shoe at her?”
“I didn’t throw it. It…fell off.” She was glaring at him now, not Violet.
Dev was getting the distinct impression that the blame had somehow shifted from the dog to its owner.
Violet bumped his arm, her pink tongue unfurling in a cheerful doggy grin, content to let him clean up the mess she’d made. Typical.
Dev buried a sigh and reached out his hand to help the woman down.
She didn’t move.
It occurred to Dev that he probably looked a little…rough. A razor hadn’t touched his face for over a week and his camo fatigues had been washed in a spring—
The breeze shifted and Dev saw the straight little nose twitch.
—And dried by the campfire.
Yup. Now she thinks you’re a serial arsonist.
He scraped up some of the manners that had gotten a little rusty from lack of use.
“I’m Dev McGuire.”
“Jenna—” Her lips compressed as if she regretted revealing that much information. “Just…Jenna.”
Dev wondered what he could say to reassure her that neither he—nor his dog—were a threat.
“I live next door.”
Eyes as blue as the forget-me-nots scattered along the shoreline fixed on a point beyond his shoulder, as if she were gauging the distance between the two places.
Now she moved. Away from him.
Dev’s lips tipped in a rueful smile.
Apparently that wasn’t it.
ISBN: 9781459234024
Copyright © 2012 by Jill Strickler
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