The Promise of Home

* * *

Jenna’s heart skipped a scheduled beat when Dev McGuire turned around. At some point in the last twelve hours, a startling transformation had occurred.

The heavy growth of stubble that had shadowed the angular jaw was gone, enhancing the clean lines of Dev’s chiseled features. The bright morning sunlight coaxed out hints of bronze in the sable hair that Jenna hadn’t noticed before.

In faded jeans and a dark green T-shirt that accentuated broad shoulders and muscular arms, Dev looked like a man totally at ease in his surroundings.

And way too attractive for her peace of mind.

Jenna stopped, suddenly reluctant to venture any closer.

“Look at the fish I caught, Aunt Jenna!” Logan shouted, jumping up and down on the dock like a pogo stick and pointing to a metal bucket near his feet.

“I wanna see it, too!” Tori broke free from Jenna’s hold and scampered toward her brother.

It was a conspiracy, no doubt about it.

Jenna picked her way down to the shoreline, the heels of her shoes sinking into the spongy ground with every step.

“Hurry up, Aunt Jenna!”

Aware that Dev was watching her approach, Jenna grabbed the wooden post on the end of the dock. The narrow platform jutting over the water hadn’t looked quite so precarious from a distance. As Jenna gingerly stepped onto the first section, Violet decided to join her.

The dog, marinated in lake water and coated with a fine layer of sand, lowered its shaggy head and barked at her.

Nice to see you again? Get off my property?

Jenna had no idea what Violet was attempting to communicate, but she was hesitant to take another step until she knew for sure.

“Violet, no.” Dev strode toward them. “Look out, Jenna. She’s going to—”

Shake.

That must have been the word Dev had been looking for.

If only he would have said it faster.

Chapter Four

Jenna jumped backward to avoid the shower. The heel of her shoe found a weak spot in the weathered boards and opened a space for her entire foot to go through.

She attempted to wiggle free before Dev noticed her dilemma.

“Do you need some help?”

Jenna tried not to groan.

He’d noticed her dilemma.

“I’m—”

“Fine,” Dev interrupted. “I think you made that clear yesterday. But at the moment it looks like you’re…stuck.”

Unfortunately, Jenna couldn’t argue with the assessment. She was stuck. Stuck in the kind of town she’d spent the majority of her life wanting to leave. Stuck in a cabin that let more mosquitoes in than it kept out, instead of her condo with its enclosed balcony and manicured lawn.

No dogs allowed.

But worst of all, it appeared as though Jenna was stuck with a neighbor who’d seen her in what could only be described as less than ideal—okay, humiliating—situations.

Twice.

“Don’t move—” Dev began.

Jenna moved. And winced when a jagged splinter thwarted her attempt to shake her foot free from the shoe.

Shaking his head, Dev knelt down and ignored her strangled protest.

Jenna tried to lean as far away from him as she could. But considering her foot was wedged between two boards, it wasn’t nearly far enough.

A large hand curved around her ankle. The unexpected touch caught Jenna off guard. And sent an equally unexpected jolt of electricity running through her.

“Hold still,” Dev commanded. “You’re as jumpy as a tree frog.”

A tree frog. Now there was something a girl dreamed of being compared to.

“What’s taking so long?” Jenna found her view blocked by a broad shoulder.

“I’m trying to decide which one to save. Your shoe or your foot.” Dev slanted a look at her, the amusement in his eyes a contrast to his solemn tone.

“That’s not funny.” But even as she said the words, Jenna felt a bubble of laughter rising in her chest.

What would her readers think if they saw City Girl, their favorite columnist, now? Jenna was relieved this particular moment in her life would never make it into print!

“You should think about investing in something a little more—” A gentle tug. “—practical.”

Jenna wanted to argue that this pair of shoes had been the source of inspiration for the most popular column she’d ever written.

“In the Right Pair of Shoes, A Girl Can Go Anywhere.”

“I mean, considering they’re practically stilts, I can see you get decent clearance,” Dev went on. “But they can’t possibly be comfortable.”

“They happen to be exactly right for where I live.” Jenna ignored the part about them being comfortable. “Concrete sidewalks. Foliage growing in pots. Parks with leash laws…” Her attempt to deny the humor in the situation was too much. She grinned down at him.

And Dev released her so abruptly that she almost lost her balance again. The laughter faded from his eyes.

“That might be true, but these things won’t last a week and neither—” He stopped, but Jenna knew what he’d been about to say.

Neither will you.