What Should Have Been

His words held such conviction, Devan’s throat locked trapping her with her own mixed emotions. “No,” she rasped. She glanced down the hall, worried that Blakeley would hear some of this.

“The truth, Devan.”

“Mead…it was one night.”

“For some people that can be enough. If it’s all they’re given.” He shook his head, his gaze once again moving over every inch of her face. “I wish I could remember. I’ve been trying every minute since yesterday. How did we part?”

“You went away. Exactly as you said you would.”

“Did I say goodbye?”

Dear God, he was torturing her. “In a manner of speaking.”

“Did I break your heart?”

“You couldn’t, you never asked for it.”

Mead’s eyes narrowed. “I was going to come back to you.”

The air left her lungs in a brief, mirthless laugh. “Ah…no. Promises and commitment weren’t for you.”

“Then I was an ass.”

In her weakest moments, Devan had imagined having this conversation. But that was restricted to late at night, on the worst nights when she lay alone and lonely in her bed; when her memories refused to let her sleep and her body ached with the need for someone as hungry as she.

As she saw curiosity become desire in Mead’s eyes, she realized he had seen that…and was going to kiss her. Yes, her soul whispered.

Just as he started to reach for her, someone knocked at the storm door. Startled back to reality, Devan launched herself across the room. Her heart pounded anew as she recognized Officer Billy Denny on the front stoop.

“Mrs. Anderson,” he said as she opened the door. His gaze shifted to Mead. “Everything all right?”

“Why, yes, Officer Denny. Is there a problem?”

“Well, your neighbor saw a stranger outside of your house and when she saw him follow you inside, she was concerned you were in danger. She’d heard about the trouble in the park.”

Devan glanced around him and saw Bev Greenbriar stretching to see what was going on. The old busybody, she fumed to herself; she knew perfectly well who Mead was, and by morning this was going to be all over town.

“That’s very kind of her,” she said with a forced smile. “But as you can see, everything is fine. Mr. Regan was just apologizing again for yesterday and checking to see if Blakeley is okay.”

“Fine. Would you like a lift home, sir?” the young cop asked. “I’d feel better if you’d allow me. We had a rabies incident today, and you’d best not take any chances that some infected critter might cross your path or something in the park.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Mead replied. At the door, he met Devan’s apprehensive gaze. “Thanks for being so understanding.”

“It was good of you to stop by,” she said with equal formality.

As soon as he was outside and he and Officer Denny were heading to the car, Devan locked the storm door and shut and locked the inner one. She didn’t want to take any chance that Bev would have the nerve to charge up here to fish more information out of her, while rude Jacque defiled their pumpkin display.

But as she leaned back against hardwood, she knew that wasn’t why her heart was pounding, or why her face was feverishly hot.

Touching her fingertips to her lips she closed her eyes. What had she almost done?

Exactly what she’d promised herself she would never do again.

Chapter Four

“I promise, Laureen, I’ll talk to him about starting his motorcycle under your bedroom window and waking you and the birds.” Lavender rolled her eyes as Devan entered Dreamscapes. “Okay. I’ve got customers, hon, gotta go now. Make love not war. ’Byee.”

Hanging up the phone, thirty-four-year-old Lavender Smart swept her wild mane of flaming red hair and purple extensions from her face and noisily purged the air from her lungs. “Is it happy hour yet?”

Devan gave her a droll look as she shifted the thigh-high rabbit yard ornament by the door to keep it open. “Please. Not only is it barely past eight in the morning, but half this town is Baptist. Keep it down.” However, she’d recognized the name of her partner’s neighbor, Laureen Moyers. “Is Rhys in trouble again?”

“Heck, yeah. How can she complain about having a cop right next door adding to her personal security?” Lavender finished tying a green Dreamscapes apron over her jeans and favorite kitten T-shirt with the slogan, I Am Leo, Hear Me Roar.

“Oh, I imagine it has something to do with your active love life and her comatose one.” Devan recalled that fifty-something-year-old Mrs. Moyers was a widow three times over and only months after moving in and getting to know her highly critical neighbor, Lavender had had the poor judgment to suggest to her that each spouse had seen their demise as the preferred escape from the woman. Ever since that Laureen had taken exception to whomever Lavender invited to share her bed with…and there had been several invitees. To Lavender the opposite sex was like a candy store: too many choices to settle on just one.

“Well, she better get over it. Is it his fault that he’s on the early shift?”

Passing a display of gifts, Devan shifted a ceramic box adorned with pansies that looked too close to the edge of the table. “You don’t think he’s pushing her buttons?”

“Of course he is ’cuz he’s caught her peeking into the bathroom window whenever he’s showering, and in the kitchen window when he’s grabbing a beer after we’ve given the mattress a little workout. Mr. Cute Butt just figures she wants to get another look at him as he heads to the station.”

Never knowing what will come out of Lavender’s mouth, Devan gnawed on her cheek to keep from bursting into laughter. “It sounds like you and Mount Vance’s newest uniform are made for each other.”

“Now don’t go getting ideas. He’s closer to your age, not mine. Heck, I’ll be menopausal like that rottweiler next door and Rhys Atwood will still look like a Playgirl centerfold.” Lavender fanned herself with her hand. “Oh, help. I’m thinking myself into a hot flash already.”

Devan gave up and giggled as she rounded the counter and patted her friend’s back. “I swear it would take a naval fleet for you to suffer seximus maximus, Lav.”

“Ho-ho, you’re one to tease, guess who called before Laureen asking about a certain somebody being at your house last night? Yvonne Ledbetter. Now tell me, Ms. Look Not Want Not, what on earth made you cut the steel corset and finally open your door to a man—Mead Regan no less?”

Devan had made it to the closet where she and Lavender put their purses, personal things, and kept the safe. She’d just come from dropping off Blakeley at day care and was only ten or twelve minutes late. She couldn’t believe so much had happened already. “So Beverly Big Mouth’s speed dial finger strikes again. Incredible. I knew she’d be spreading gossip, but I never thought she would call Yvonne Ledbetter.” Yvonne was Bev’s ex-sister-in-law. Although that marriage ended fifteen years ago, they would as soon toss each other’s car keys in a public commode than be the first to suggest bygones be bygones.

“Ah,” Lavender countered. “But Yvonne’s Charlie is city manager and you said yourself that Mrs. Regan’s car is parked outside of city hall more often than the mayor’s. My guess is that Bev couldn’t resist tempting Yvonne to be the first to pass on the news seeing as I’m your partner and she keeps my mane so marvelous.”

Locking the door again, Devan considered all that could trigger, but the machinations were too much for her tired mind. “There are more dysfunctional people in this town,” she fumed under her breath.

“Don’t make me one of ’em.” Lavender leaned a generous hip against the counter. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Devan owed her friend and business partner an explanation but could only bring herself to share the official version. The full story was too private, as was her history with Mead.

Even so, Lavender’s hazel eyes were twinkling. “I should rename you Sleeping Beauty. You get more male attention saying ‘get gone’ than most of the single girls in this town do primping and preening. If I wasn’t financially bound to you like an umbilical cord, I’d hate you.”

Which was one of the reasons Devan and Lavender got along so fabulously. There wasn’t an ounce of envy between them, and sharing the same birth month, they understood each other like twins, even though they seemed to be personality opposites. “When you run out of gush, let me know,” Devan said with a tolerant smile. Inside, however, she was worrying about how Pamela Regan was going to take this.

Lavender snatched up two faxed orders from the tray. “I’m done because I really should be mad at you. Why didn’t you call and tell me he showed up again?”

“I had to get Blakeley into bed, get a load of laundry in the washer, pay some bills. And I was already exhausted.”

“Okay, but you let him into your house? Didn’t you feel a bit uncertain? I mean, the man was trained to kill people, probably has killed people.”