Fantastic. “Like kissing a wet dog. Look, the whole date was a bad idea, but no harm done.”
“Then why were you crying?”
“Because…” Unable to tell the truth, Rachel floundered.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“BECAUSE YOU ACTED LIKE an asshole, Rachel’s really upset.”
Devin looked down at the baby Goth barring his way into the lecture hall. “You’re the text sender…Trixie, isn’t it? And this is another one of your oh-so-funny jokes. Because Heartbreaker doesn’t get upset, she gets mad.”
The young woman frowned. “No, this time I’m serious. I don’t know what went down, other than the fact that you kiss like a wet dog, but-”
Devin laughed. “You see? Mad.”
“You made her cry.”
“I doubt that.” He tried to step past her; she blocked him.
“I found her in tears this morning. She tried to make light of it, but Rachel never cries. I mean never. Even when her dad died a couple of years back.”
He didn’t need this. It had been enough placating Mark. Devin figured he wasn’t due to make another apology for at least a year. “You’re making too big a deal of this.”
“You mean it isn’t a big deal to you,” said Trixie. “But it must be a big deal to Rachel or she wouldn’t be so upset. She’s not like us. She’s led a sheltered life and hasn’t learned to protect herself.”
Devin recalled Rachel’s well-placed knee. “Trust me, she can take care of herself.”
“I mean emotionally,” Trixie said impatiently. “She doesn’t protect herself against being hurt.”
He wasn’t used to being taken to task over bad behavior. The band had been on the road so much it was easy to sidestep consequences, and if they hadn’t been touring…well, there was the house in Barbados to escape to if he needed to get out of L.A. for a while.
“I’ll think about apologizing.”
“Really?”
“Sure.” But it was a tactic to get rid of her. Devin didn’t “do” hurt feelings and he wasn’t about to start.
So he couldn’t explain how he ended up knocking on Rachel’s front door at 6:00 p.m. Friday evening.
When she was feisty he could ignore her, stay pissed. But Rachel hurt niggled at his peace of mind. And that peace was too hard won to surrender lightly.
Her shadow appeared through the stained glass door panel, hesitating as Rachel recognized him. Then she opened the door. They eyed each other warily.
Devin saw immediately that Trixie had been telling the truth. Rachel looked washed out. Suddenly an apology wasn’t hard. Whatever his faults, he wasn’t such an asshole that he couldn’t admit when he was wrong.
“I jumped to conclusions, last night.” When she didn’t say anything, he forced himself to give more. “I’m still learning to give people the benefit of the doubt instead of suspecting their motives in being with me.”
She glanced away. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we expected anything from the date.”
“No,” he admitted. “We had too many prejudices for that.”
“I was trying to keep an open mind.” Stepping back, she started to close the door.
And Devin realized his arrogance was about to lose him a friendship with the first woman to interest him in years.
“Before I go, let me give you a few more tips on bad behavior,” he said brusquely. “Develop an alcohol addiction and get married a couple of times-at least once in a ceremony you can’t remember because it was during one of your alcoholic blackouts.
“Try and keep the marriages short and make sure you write a song about eternal love to play at each wedding, which will have you cringing for the rest of your life. Become an arrogant, opinionated prick because no one ever said no to you.” Devin stopped, disorientated. Overhead, the sound of a distant rumble drew his gaze. A 747 glinted in the blue sky. Wishing to God he was on it, he sighed. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I guess I’m still getting the hang of normal.” He started to leave.
“Normal’s overrated,” she said behind him, and he turned. She was staring after the jet’s vapor trail. “You know how certain songs take you back to key times in your life? Times when you were happy or sad, confused or needing courage?” She looked back at him. “Writing the soundtrack to people’s lives is no small thing,” she said softly.
Devin cleared his throat. “What was your special song?”
“‘Letting You Go.’ Sam…Samantha Henwood. I was sixteen.”
“I don’t know it.”
She started to hum, then to sing, and it was painful to hear because the librarian was tone deaf.
Devin put his hands over his ears. “You’re killing me.”
Rachel smiled and sang louder.
Stepping forward, he clapped a hand over her mouth. Above his fingers, her eyes were still smiling. Devin had never thought of gray as a warm color before, but now he dropped his hand before he got burned. “Will you accept my apology?”
“As long as you admit that the world doesn’t always revolve around you.”
“As long as you realize it has for the last decade.”
“And for the record,” she told him tartly, “I didn’t eat butter because before Beryl and Kev joined us I intended having dessert. I wear cardigans because I like vintage. Not sleeping with a guy on the first date doesn’t make me a prude, and if you ever call me a book nerd again I’ll ram my mountain bike down your throat.”
Damn, but he liked this woman. “I get it. Librarians are people, too.” And because he couldn’t resist teasing her he added, “Next you’ll be telling me you have a vice.”
“I do.” She hesitated, long enough for his imagination to jump to the bait. “I don’t make my bed.”
Devin laughed. “Let’s try another date.”
Her eyes widened. “Why?”
“Admittedly, most of the time we engage in interplanetary warfare and yet…” Devin tucked a strand of loose hair behind her hair. “And yet, Heartbreaker…”
Rachel knew what he meant. There was something between them, an odd, unexpected connection. And that kiss…But it was wrong to use him as a means to Mark, and she couldn’t kid herself that that wasn’t the primary temptation. She shook her head. “I just broke up with someone I thought I’d marry. You’d only be a rebound.”
He grinned. “See, that’s what I like about you, you keep giving me firsts. I’ve never been the rebound guy before. What’s the drill?”
He was incorrigible…and far too appealing. Rachel wavered. He was also offering her another chance to find out more about him. Wasn’t that her goal? And a repentant Devin was more likely to reveal himself… She was skirting dangerously close to her ethical boundaries. Was it fair to use him like this?
“Any sensible person would run a mile,” she hedged.
“I’ve had a million words written about me,” he said. “I don’t think sensible was ever one of them.”
Rachel remembered the other things written about him, things he hadn’t denied. This wasn’t about her. Or Devin. It was about protecting her son. “Maybe we could go out to formalize our peace treaty,” she suggested, “but no date. Strictly platonic.” Attraction only made things tougher. Her motives murkier. This way no one got hurt.
“Sure.” His lopsided, sexy-as-hell grin belied his easy acquiescence. “The Flying Dutchman opera is coming to town, isn’t it? I’ve been seeing billboards.”
“Next weekend, but the tickets are expensive.” Which was why she hadn’t booked. Most of her income went toward her mortgage. Rachel remembered who she was talking to when he laughed.
“Consider it part of the apology.”
She trusted his meekness even less than she trusted that sexy grin. “As long as we’re quite clear,” she
