Jilted: Promise Harbor, Book 1 (3 page)

“Hello.”

She jumped and turned to face a woman standing on the other side of the picket fence. Her smile creased a pretty face. Devon guessed her to be about fifty years old, with short, flippy blonde hair and cute rectangular glasses. “Hi.”

“You must be Devon.”

“I am.”

“Your dad told me you were coming. I’m Susan Henderson. Your dad’s neighbor. Obviously.” She made a face.

“Nice to meet you, Susan.” Devon tried to remember when the Faulkners had moved away.

“I have a key to the house,” Susan said. “If you want to hang on a sec, I’ll get it and let you in.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

Susan disappeared into her house. He’d given the neighbor a key. Huh. Devon waited, inhaling the scent of roses and sunshine. Susan returned a minute later and handed the key over the fence.

“There you go. Your dad stopped leaving a key out after some robberies happened in town.”

“Robberies?” Maybe Promise Harbor
had
changed.

Susan lifted a shoulder. “Mostly tourist related. But still. You need to be careful.”

“Yes,” Devon agreed, approaching her to take the key. Now she was closer, she saw faint lines around the eyes that made her think maybe Susan was a little older than she’d thought at first, although she did have lovely smooth skin and rounded cheeks that gave her a youthful look. “I guess Dad’s still at work.”

“He should be home soon.”

Devon lifted one eyebrow. Susan seemed to know a lot about what went on with Dad. Including having a key to his house. “Great. I’ll take my stuff in. Thanks again.” She smiled politely.

She let herself into the house through the back door and walked into the kitchen. Wow. She almost had to close her eyes against the memories that flooded back. But even though some of the memories weren’t that good, she felt a strange sense of comfort being in the house with which she was so familiar.

Nothing major had changed. Old-fashioned and a little more worn, the place was still neat and clean. A small African violet in a pretty pot sat on the window sill above the sink. Devon had washed many dishes at that sink, and there had never been a plant there before. The scent of cranberry filled the air, and she tracked it to a fat, red candle on the kitchen table. That was new too.

She dragged her suitcase to her bedroom. Here, things hadn’t changed at all. She’d left ten years ago for college. She’d been back since then, of course, and had made some changes herself, but the same blue flowered duvet covered the twin bed, the same white blinds hung in the window, the same little white lamp sat on the painted white nightstand. And yet…there was another candle sitting on the dresser, this one blue and scented with something lovely and floral.

She was pretty sure Dad hadn’t put that candle in there.

She unpacked a few things, mostly to keep busy. She should hang up her wedding dress—gah! She went very still and closed her eyes as one of those stupid stabs of pain in her chest hit again. Her dress wasn’t a wedding dress. It was just a dress to wear to a wedding. Josh’s wedding.

She’d spent a fortune on the damn Badgley Mischka dress. It was so beautiful.

But she hadn’t known she was going to lose her job when she’d bought it. It was too late to return it, so she was stuck with it. She set her shoes—also expensive—on the floor of the closet and hung up a couple of other things. She hadn’t brought much, since she only planned on staying a few days. The wedding was Saturday, and she planned to leave first thing Sunday morning for Greenbush Island. She couldn’t afford to stay in the luxury resort William Mudge was staying in, but she could go hang out there and take the late ferry back to Promise Harbor.

The last few weeks had been exhausting. She hadn’t slept at night and had spent her days job hunting. Her so-called friends had pretty much disappeared when they’d learned she lost her job, as if they were afraid her misfortune was contagious. Rejection sucked the life out of a person, and she’d spent her evenings watching horrid reality TV shows, eating ice cream and drinking a lot of wine.

So, yeah, really looking forward to the wedding now.

Fuck my life.

She heard a car pull in to the driveway and a door slam. Dad. She drew back her shoulders, pasted a smile on her face and headed out to greet him.

God, he looked as happy to see her as she did to be there, his weathered, tanned face tight, his eyes narrowed. “Hi, Devon.”

“Hi, Dad.” She moved toward him and they exchanged a brief, barely touching hug. As she drew away, his eyes flickered and she almost thought his hands trembled a little. Could he be…nervous?

“Did you get the key from Susan?” he asked.

“No, I broke in.”

He didn’t appreciate her attempt at humor, since he didn’t laugh.

“Yes, I did,” she said with an inward sigh. “She seems like a nice neighbor.”

He shrugged and avoided her gaze. “I guess. She offered to watch for you since I’d be at work. And there’ve been some robberies in town, so I don’t like leaving a key out anymore.”

“Susan mentioned that,” she said. “I almost came down to the office. I knew where you’d be.”

Dad ran a charter fishing company. He owned a couple of boats and took people out fishing for bass and bluefish. He didn’t make much money, but he loved the ocean and being outside and on the water a lot. After Mom had left, he’d spent even more time there. And less time with Devon.

“How was your drive?” he asked.

They made superficial small talk. And then a knock at the door sounded and Susan’s face appeared in the window. She held a large casserole dish.

Dad moved to let her in, and she greeted him with a smile that immediately had Devon’s female senses tingling. “Hello again,” Susan said. She held up the covered dish. “I brought over a homemade seafood lasagna for your first evening back.”

“Oh.” Devon just blinked at her. “Wow. That’s so nice of you.”

She looked back and forth between Susan and Dad as Dad took the dish and set it on the counter.

“Thanks,” he said, with a quick glance at Susan and, holy shnikes, a smile.

“I thought you might want something better than a frozen dinner like you usually eat for Devon’s first night home.”

When Dad and Susan looked at each other there was no mistaking the connection between them, and Devon’s jaw went a little slack. Whoa. Weird.

“Uh…it smells great,” she managed to say. “And I’m starving.” She wasn’t. She hadn’t been starving since she’d gotten that wedding invitation in the mail, but they didn’t need to know that. Was Susan going to stay and eat with them?

As Devon and Susan both moved at the same time to the cupboard where the plates were kept, she got her answer. Apparently Susan
was
going to stay and eat with them, without even a direct invitation from Dad. Apparently it was just assumed she’d stay for dinner. Again, whoa.

She and Susan both hesitated. Awkward! They eyed each other. Clearly Susan was comfortable here in Dad’s kitchen. Susan stepped back and beamed the smile again. As Devon lifted plates out of the cupboard, Susan found cutlery and they quickly set the table, then sat down to eat.

“So your friends are getting married this weekend,” Susan said. “This wedding has been the talk of the town for weeks.”

“Oh. Really.”

“The Ralstons and the Brewsters have been such close friends for years. It’s just so romantic that they’re now going to be joined by marriage. Everyone thinks so.”

Everyone but Devon.

Susan clearly didn’t realize that she and Josh had once been…together. Her throat tightened and she looked down at her plate of lasagna, which was actually really delicious, with chunks of shrimp and scallops and crab, and melty cheese.

Yes, Josh and Allie’s families were close. Allie’s mom, Lily, and Josh’s mom, Sophie, had been best friends, and their kids had grown up together. Devon had met Josh through Allie when she and Allie became friends as teenagers, although their first meetings had been really nothing. He was three years older than they were, a senior in high school. The first time Devon had met him had been one Christmas, at a big, two-family get-together.

She’d immediately developed a crush on him, which she didn’t even share with Allie because it was just so…crazy. He was gorgeous, six feet tall with spectacular shoulders, a football player on the school team. He had dark brown hair, eyes the color of whiskey and a wide, easy smile, and at that time a beautiful, blonde, cheerleader girlfriend who spent the holiday draped over him like the garland on the Christmas tree. So really, there wasn’t even a smidgen of hope that Devon would ever get together with him. She just liked watching him and listening to him talk and worshipping him from afar. At the time she didn’t think he even noticed her, but she found out later—years later—that he had.

She saw him around school occasionally, and sometimes at the Ralston home when she was there visiting Allie and he happened to be there too. He’d gone away to college in Boston the year after that, and he’d come home for Thanksgiving and Christmas and a few other occasions over the years. She’d had other boyfriends, and it wasn’t as if she spent years mooning after Josh Brewster, but every time she saw him she felt a tug of attraction and a squeeze of lust that she always hid from Allie. From everybody.

“That Josh Brewster is such a nice boy,” Susan continued. “Everyone in town loves him, especially after he rescued the Cardwell children from their home when it caught on fire. He’s so brave.”

Devon murmured her agreement, still staring down at her food.

“And everyone admires the way he looks after his family. His mom and his sister. And truthfully, he does a lot for the Ralston family too, since Lily passed away.”

Of course he did.

“And Allie is so beautiful,” Susan chatted on. “They make such a gorgeous couple. I hear her wedding dress is spectacular.”

“Allie always did like pretty clothes,” Devon murmured.

When Devon had moved to Boston to go to college, Josh had graduated with a degree in fire science and was working with the Boston Fire Department. Allie had contacted him and asked him to call Devon to see how she was doing in the big city all on her own. The first time she’d heard his voice on the phone, she’d gone all sticky-tongued, her heart hammering. He’d suggested meeting for coffee sometime, and at first she tried to decline, but he insisted that Allie wanted him to see her and see how she was doing, so she agreed.

After that first coffee together, they hadn’t seen each other much, but Josh had kept in touch and helped her out with so many things, looking after her in the big city. She’d told herself he was like a big brother and pushed away those feelings of attraction for him. Until one day…things had changed.

Devon poked at her lasagna as Susan talked. Dad made brief, unhelpful responses as Devon drifted off into memory land. That first time Josh had kissed her was a memory she liked to pull out every once in a while and relive, a memory that made her heart both fill with joy and ache with sadness. It was kind of like when you had something stuck in your tooth, or a canker sore that you just couldn’t leave alone, even though it hurt. She kept that memory alive and well even though it…hurt. She guessed the word would be
bittersweet
. Kind of like coming to his wedding, with a bride who wasn’t her.

She was brought back to the present by the peculiar sight of her father and Susan talking and smiling at each other. After they’d eaten, Devon went do the dishes as she always had as a teenager, and Susan stayed in the kitchen to help. Dad left them alone, and she heard the television in the living room come on.

She shot Susan a glance as she squeezed some dish soap into the sink. “Have you lived next door long?”

Susan looked at her and gave a crooked smile. “Doug hasn’t told you about me, has he?”

“Um. No.” They didn’t talk much, and when they did it wasn’t much beyond the basics. A relationship with a woman, though? Hell, that was something to mention. You would think.

Susan smiled. “Well, I’ll leave that to him.”

“Ha,” Devon said. “You might as well tell me. Apparently he isn’t going to.”

Susan lifted an eyebrow, and guilt nudged Devon for being so disloyal to her father as to criticize him to a stranger.

“Dad’s been alone a long time,” she said. “I guess I’m just a little surprised.”

“He told me about your mother leaving.”

“Yes. That was sixteen years ago.”

Devon understood why her mom had left. She’d been beautiful and fun, and Devon had always known her mom had wanted more than living in Promise Harbor, married to a man who ran a little charter fishing business. She liked to dress up and go out for dinner, and although there were some lovely restaurants in Promise Harbor that catered to the huge influx of tourists every summer, she’d always wanted to go to Boston or New York to shop and dine and go to plays and concerts. That wasn’t exactly Dad’s kind of thing.

Even as a kid Devon had wondered how they’d gotten together, and later in life she figured it out between the pieces she knew, the small things her dad shared and what she learned from others in the town. Her mom’s family was wealthy and had owned a summer property just outside town, and the summer she’d been eighteen, she’d met Dad. They’d fallen in love and her mom got pregnant. With her. Somehow Mom ended up staying in Promise Harbor and stayed for twelve years that apparently were torture for her. Eventually she just couldn’t do it anymore and returned to her family in New York, to the life they wanted her to lead.