She laughed at him, but Spencer, half expecting an argument, said, “I’m her neighbor—I’ll make sure she gets home.”

And then to his surprise, Scott Grant said, “Okay. Later, then.”

Probably shouldn’t have done that, Spencer thought. He already knew he found the girl intriguing and attractive and complicated—spending more time with her just didn’t make sense for a man in his position, single father, recently widowed, vulnerable. But then he put his hand on the small of her back, brought her gently up against him, and that’s where all thinking ended. He was vaguely aware of someone in the band singing You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you.... He swayed with her, their feet barely moving, her head resting lightly against his shoulder, her hair under his chin.

She lifted her chin and smiled up at him. “Did you have a good time tonight?” she asked.

He just nodded and pulled her a little bit closer.

He tried to make sense of this. It had been so long since he’d had his arms around the warm, soft flesh of a woman—that’s probably all it was. He’d held his wife in her last months, weeks, days, hours...but that wasn’t the same as this. This woman was all too alive. And her hair...the fragrance was just knocking him out.

“What is that fragrance?” he asked her in a whisper. “What do you wash your hair with?”

She looked up at him and laughed. “Baby shampoo.”

Okay, he was clearly losing his mind. Baby shampoo? Whatever was filling his senses was much more serious and sensuous than that. The song ended and the next began. He felt her pull back slightly, but he just gathered her up closer. And she came to him. He heard the music, but he was also vaguely aware of the sounds of packing up. Coolers opened and closed, trash was gathered, there was talking and laughing, bottles clinked. He lifted his head, opened his eyes and they were the only couple dancing.

And then, too soon, the music stopped.

“Thanks,” he said. “That was nice.”

“It was. I’m going to see if I can help before heading home,” she said. And with that she walked right over to Carrie, who gave her a brief hug and shook her head. It looked as if they were just about done with everything they had to do tonight. Once the food and trash was gathered and stowed, everything else would wait until morning.

Spencer went to where Devon had been sitting with Scott and picked up her flip-flops. He stood there at the edge of the party area holding her shoes, waiting. It seemed just about everyone was gone; Cooper and Sarah stood on the deck with his parents, saying good-night. Mac and Gina were halfway across the beach. The band was packing up their equipment. And he had an overwhelming desire to wait them all out, to wait until it was only himself and Devon on the beach, under the twinkling lights.

She was beside him again. “Thanks,” she said, reaching for her flip-flops. She slipped them on her feet and they began walking toward the marina. “What a nice wedding. I admit, I cried a little bit.”

He said nothing.

“I think the little kids would’ve liked it, but I’m glad they weren’t there. I would’ve spent the whole night chasing them. And I haven’t been to a grown-up party in so long, I can’t remember when.”

He stopped walking and looked down at her. “Devon. You and the doctor?”

“Huh?”

“Are you with the doctor? Are you seeing him?”

“Scott?” she asked on a laugh. “Oh, my gosh, no!” She laughed again. “I’m sharing his babysitter so I can work for him, that’s all. He’s been wonderful about that—but of course I do pay Gabriella. But seeing him? Spencer, I can’t be dating my boss! I can’t be dating anyone!”

“You can’t?”

“I’m a single mother! I have a lot of responsibility! I can’t—”

He stopped walking. He slipped his arm around her waist, pulled her up off her feet and planted a kiss on her, cutting her off midsentence. He moved over her mouth and decided immediately that the taste and texture were perfect. But her arms hung limp at her sides. He lifted his lips from hers. “Me, either. I can’t get involved with anyone, either.”

“You have a very strange way of demonstrating that, Mr. Lawson....”

“Kiss me back,” he said. “Come on, can’t you see I can’t help it?”

“Seriously?”

“You’re beautiful. You smell so good. You taste like heaven.”

“And I’m not dating!”

“We’ll be friends,” he said. “Very good friends. While we figure out if we should date. I haven’t been on a date in years.”

She laughed at him, shaking her head. “Are you drunk?”

He let go of her, let her drop to her feet. “No, I’m horribly sober. So you don’t want to kiss?”

“I think it would be a bad idea. I only kiss boyfriends and I haven’t had one of those in...forever.”

He shook his head. “You have no idea how much we have in common....”

“Come on,” she said, taking his hand. “I’ll give you a ride home. And behave yourself.”

They were almost to the marina when he said, “Devon, we should...I don’t know...spend some time or...” He stopped walking again. “Do you need someone to cut your grass? Help you paint something?”

She shook her head. “What’s up with you?”

“I’m very helpful by nature.”

She began walking again. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

When they got to the truck, she asked, “Do you want a ride?”

“I think I’ll walk. It’s just a few blocks. And I should clear my head. I’m not usually so...” He shrugged. “I don’t grab and kiss women like that. And I could tell you didn’t like it. I think I should probably do some chores for you or something. Prove I’m not rude...”

She put a hand on his arm. “That’s all right, Spencer. It was just the twinkling lights and the wedding. Made you feel a little reckless.” She tilted her head and he really wanted to dig his fingers into that messy, willful short hair of hers. So he put his hands in his pockets. “Will you be all right?” she asked him.

“I’m fine. Be careful driving home.”

Nine

Oh. My. God.

Devon sat in the truck, in the driveway of her duplex. She felt a slight trembling in her extremities and it was not from cold or fear or embarrassment. It was from that very alien feeling of desire that rippled through her arms, breasts, toes...and lips. He’d kissed her. Really kissed her right off her feet. He’d stunned and paralyzed her and it made her want to kiss him back.

Instead she’d scared him away. Which was probably for the best. The last time she’d felt anything like that, it had been for Jacob, much older, much more practiced in seduction, much more dangerous. At least she thought that’s how Jacob seemed compared to Spencer.

It had been so long. Of the seven women she’d lived with at The Fellowship, only three of them were regularly sharing Jacob’s bed—Charlotte, Pilly and Lorna. Devon had foolishly believed he had fallen for her—the new girl. And the others didn’t tell her, warn her, didn’t explain that all the children were his. When she’d realized the truth, she’d wanted to run for her life, and then it was the women who convinced her to stay. “You don’t have to accept his advances and we’ll take care of you. He might try with you, but he would never hurt you or force you—you’re safe,” Reese had said. “You’re pregnant and have nowhere to go—just stay close to me and you’ll have everything you need.” By which Reese meant food and shelter and friendship. So at first she stayed because there was nothing else for her, then she stayed because she felt it was safe for her and Mercy. It didn’t take long to realize what Jacob was—a manipulative liar who liked having his harem, his kingdom. He was omnipotent and as long as he believed himself to be the Divine Ruler, he was manageable. But she was never his lover again and she could tell it made him angry. Reese made him angry as well, but he needed her medical skills in his camp.

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.