The Hero (Thunder Point #3)(37)

She came from such an ordinary, white-bread background she still couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to be duped into that lifestyle. But they all had. Jacob liked ’em young—early twenties at the most.

She thought Spencer was all the things Jacob was not. She imagined him as generous, guileless, honest and innocent; she knew he was a single father, a widower, a dedicated teacher. She’d been successfully ignoring the fact that he was also hot—built, sexy, sweet. Those deep brown eyes with the golden flecks under sometimes brooding brows—those eyes were deadly. There were plenty of hot men around, but they were all locked into very serious relationships, so they were easy to ignore. A little eye candy, that’s all, because all Devon wanted was a way to sort out her life and be free of the kind of entanglements that could mean trouble.

Except Spencer, who was single, as new to Thunder Point as she was, was so kind. She’d always been a sucker for this quality in a man.

She was going to have to ignore Spencer. She had a feeling he could complicate her life.

She should go inside, she told herself. The duplex was dark and although the summer night was mild, it looked cold to her. On instinct, she drove away from her home and across the small town to Scott’s house. She parked, knocked softly on the door and waited until he answered. He was changed into plaid flannel pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. He was holding an open book and the house was dim and quiet.

“Devon! Everything all right?”

“Fine. Fine.”

“I was wondering how... How’s Mercy doing with spending the night?”

“Gabriella said the kids were very good. They stayed up a little later than usual to watch a movie and were in bed around nine-thirty. They’re curled up like a bunch of puppies, sound asleep. Gabriella and Charlie went out for a while. Want to check on the kids?”

“Maybe if I could just kiss her good-night...”

He chuckled. “Just down the hall.”

She walked toward the bedroom—it was Jenny’s room, where the girls napped together. But there were only the two of them there and she circled back to Scott, a little panicked. “Scott, Will isn’t there!”

“He’s not?” Scott joined her in the hall, then looked in his own bedroom. He laughed. “He’s already migrated to my room. Happens all the time.”

“Um, this is the first night since Mercy was born that I haven’t slept beside her.”

She could see he was shocked silent for a moment. Then his voice came gently. “Would you like to take her home, Devon?”

“She’d be so disappointed,” she said. “She’s been so excited. I’ll just kiss her good-night. We both have to grow up sometime....”

“Lay down beside her for a while, if that helps.”

“But you’re going to bed...”

“Not for an hour or so. It’s okay. I’ll be out here, reading for a while.”

“Thanks.” And she went into the bedroom. The little girls were curled around each other, like sisters. She moved them over just enough to lay on the edge of the bed, an arm draping over them, pulling Mercy close, smelling her sweet little-girl smell.

Why couldn’t she be tempted by Scott? Maybe because it was obvious he wasn’t tempted by her? But Devon didn’t want a man at all! Since birth, they’d let her down, every one. After all, her mother had been alone, reaching out to a neighbor to step in when Devon was orphaned. The last man to be kind to her had betrayed her. Men had never proved to be a good idea for her....

Yet she was interested in this one, this Spencer, who was clumsy in his impetuousness, yet he made her feel all soft and gooey inside.

She closed her eyes for a moment. All she really needed in life was to be with Mercy, to be able to take care of her, make sure she was safe, strong and smart. She could do that, given the right circumstances.

And then those deep brown eyes under expressive brows came to mind again and she allowed herself the luxury of remembering their time together that night. Dancing with him and being held close in his arms felt so good. For just a little while, she indulged in that fantasy again—that there was someone for her, someone real and normal and true.

* * *

Scott finished the chapter he’d been reading, closed the book and finally decided enough time had passed to go into the girls’ bedroom to check not on them, but on Devon. He found what he expected—she was sound asleep, curled around them. He laughed softly to himself. Her sundress was riding up a little, laying bare her strong, shapely legs. Her arm was holding both girls protectively against her.

He grabbed a throw from the living room sofa and covered her, tucking it in around her and she didn’t even stir.

This is what he wanted, what he’d been looking for—a pretty young woman with a sharp mind who was completely devoted to the children. Someone dependable and smart; someone fun and energetic. He was ready; he’d been ready for a while. He’d been grieving his wife for almost four years, wondering if he’d ever have another. But he was starting to believe he was ready for someone like her. And he’d been looking, trying to find a woman who could slide into the place Serena left.

He found himself wondering—Does Devon make chocolate chip pancakes? Does she knit or make soup or bread? Did she like being pregnant? The joke on him was that his wife had loved being pregnant, yet died of an aneurism postpartum. He’d been in love with his darling Serena since high school; they’d waited a long time to start their family, given the complications of med school and residency. Was Devon the kind of woman who could endure the demands of a doctor’s life?