The Hero (Thunder Point #3)(40)

He flipped a clown pancake onto her plate and she thought, This is so normal. I’ve longed for normal for five years. A few kids, a nice guy in the kitchen, a regular house, work, family...the usual kind of family. She laughed and said, “So, you call this a clown, huh?”

“My best effort,” he said.

“It kind of looks like a...squirrel.” She cut off what appeared to be the tail, popping it in her mouth. “Now it looks more like a clown...or a hamster.”

When breakfast was over, Devon took care of the cleanup and loaded the dishes in the dishwasher. Then she drove home with Mercy and they changed into clothes for the beach before heading to the marina to meet Scott and his kids. Will and Jenny were toting a mesh bag full of beach toys. “You sure you’re up to this?” he asked. “I was called to Bandon. I could be a couple of hours.”

“I can handle the three of them, no problem. But I can’t get them all home. I just have the one booster seat.”

“We can trade cars,” he suggested. “Just put Mercy’s seat in my car. I’ll take your truck.”

“Perfect. Now be gentle with her—she belongs to Rawley and he restored her.”

The transfer was made and Scott said, “Gabriella is at home, standing by, in case I get stuck at the E.R.”

But Devon was leaning into his beautiful new vehicle. She was smelling the car. “Wow. I might just take this baby out for a little spin. Is this new?”

“Pretty new, yeah. You’re going to have to drum up some business for me at the clinic so I can pay for it.”

“What a great car. I’ve never in my life had a new car....” She removed the key to the truck off her key ring and handed it to Scott.

“Someday, Devon,” he said. “Probably not while you’re working for the tightwad doctor, but someday.” He took the truck key from her. “This seems to be working out well. Kids and all.”

“Kids and all,” she said.

With three little kids in tow, she grabbed up the towels, the sunscreen and toys. They went about halfway down the beach before they stopped. Devon spread out their towels and slathered their wiggly, excited little bodies with sunscreen. She laughed at their excitement and told them, “Water’s edge, only. No farther than your knees!”

This was Devon’s comfort zone—she loved children, especially at this age. She found them precious, hilarious, brilliant, trusting. They could also be very bad, but she’d never wondered what to do—Aunt Mary had had the patience of Job and had taught her well.

They had all played in the water and the sand for about an hour when someone plunked down beside her and she turned to see Spencer sitting next to her.

“Good morning,” he said.

“What are you doing here?”

He pointed to the dock. “Austin wants to take out one of the boards and if someone isn’t close by to watch him, he gets out too far. He wants to be like Landon—taking that board all the way out to the mouth of the bay. And he’s fighting us on the life jacket issue.” He nodded toward the littler kids. “The doctor’s kids?”

“Yes, he’s on call and I volunteered to babysit,” she said.

“Listen, about last night...”

She laughed in spite of herself. “Regrets, Spencer?”

“If I offended you, I’m sorry. If I didn’t offend you, when can we get together?”

A huff of laughter escaped her. “While I’m flattered beyond reason, maybe we should talk....”

“About?”

“About how it might be way too soon for you to think about relationships. Your wife has been gone how long?”

“Not long and yet, a long, long time. And I think you should be aware—I seem to have a drinking problem.”

She tilted her head. He hadn’t seemed the least bit drunk last night. “Oh?”

“Yes.” He circled his knees with his arms. “Apparently if I drink three beers I’ll do any damn thing I please. Whether or not it’s a good idea.”

“I see,” she said, laughing. “So this is about regrets....”

He sighed. “I can be more suave. You should try me.”

She turned toward him. “Spencer, you seem to be a very nice guy, but I warn you—I’m painfully out of practice at this. And it’s possible you’re just lonely.”

He turned toward her. “Devon, my wife was a wonderful woman. I didn’t deserve her. That’s a fact. And she battled cancer for almost four years. She had brief periods of respite, but every time the cancer would come back harder. Stronger. We fought it together till the end. Was I lonely? Yes, absolutely. If I could’ve taken it on for her I would have. In the end I was glad she could give up the fight—it was terrible for her.”

Devon was quiet for a long moment. Finally she said, “You must miss her so much.”

“Of course. But that’s not why I danced with you. That’s not why I kissed you.”

“Then why?”

His eyes darkened; his brows hooded them. “I wanted to. That simple. I really, really wanted to.”

Oh. My.

“Listen,” Devon said. “We should probably put our energy into a friendship. I think maybe we both have a great deal to overcome.”