Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,184

to say they don’t still need somebody to set them straight, but you probably don’t get to actually tell them what to do anymore. Not really my area of expertise, though,” he added, “since I didn’t have much parenting after I was eighteen.”

“I forgot,” she said. “But you’re right, I think.”

“Sounds like you’ve talked to her a lot,” he said. “About making smart choices, and so forth.”

She laughed. “Probably way too much, if you ask her.”

“Also, Owen’s a great guy. I know he’s my buddy, but he’s objectively a great guy. I’ve never seen him do a really wrong thing. Not even a fairly wrong thing. And I’m pretty sure he’s crazy about Dyma.”

“So maybe,” she said, “leave it to take its course? I mean, I’m not going to tell them to go ahead and get busy now that she’s not in high school. I still think it’d be better if they waited, but the truth is, it’s not my call anymore. So maybe I just … don’t say anything else unless she asks me? Which she won’t.”

“Sounds good,” he said, then leaned over and gave her a kiss. “It’s great that you think about it that much. About what’s the right thing.”

She sighed. “I wish kids came with instruction manuals. You think that when they’re two, especially Dyma, most stubborn child alive. Then they get to be teenagers, and … whoosh. But OK. I’ve got a plan.”

It didn’t work out quite like that.

58

Transitions

When they got to the high school, Owen was waiting out front. Leaning up against the brick wall near the entrance, to be exact, surrounded by four or five young guys on the big and tough side and looking like the leader of the pack.

He didn’t say hi to Harlan for a while. That was because, as soon as he spotted Dyma—which was easy to do, since she’d given a shriek, clapped one hand over her mortarboard, and run to meet him—he was striding out of his group of admirers like the colossus he was, picking her right up off her feet, and kissing her breathless.

Yeah, he didn’t know how much longer they were going to wait.

Owen shook hands with Oscar, and clapped him on the back, too, holding his fire a little so he wouldn’t knock the old guy down. Oscar had managed to point out, in the short ride over here, that Owen had gone fishing with him on the weekend when he’d taken Dyma to prom. He hadn’t actually said that Harlan was a worthless pretty boy, but it had definitely been implied.

After that, though, and a kiss of Annabelle’s cheek and one for Jennifer, since she was his girlfriend’s mother—that still boggled Harlan some—he came for Harlan. He gave him a strong, fierce hug, pounded him on the back, and said, “How you doing, man?”

“Good,” Harlan said. “Good.”

Owen had called, after they’d found his mom, and offered to come out. He’d called a few times since, too, supposedly to pick Harlan’s brain about the Wyoming football camp he’d be running at the end of the month, which Harlan always went down and helped with. In reality, though, Owen had been doing that camp for three years now, and he didn’t have that many questions. It was an excuse to check on him, that was all.

That part of Harlan’s brain was mostly numb now. He wondered at times why that was. You had to be able to compartmentalize to play sports as a pro, sure, or you’d never make it. You couldn’t have off days or indulge in moods, not if you wanted to stay in the game. That was part of it. This time, though, he wasn’t just compartmentalizing when he was training. He was doing it almost all the time. Just … not going there. Sometimes, he knew Jennifer wanted to ask, and he was uncomfortable that he wasn’t feeling more.

That spot didn’t hurt. It wasn’t sore when you touched it. He just didn’t feel anything, other than that one time late at night, when Jennifer had been asleep, which had felt terrible. He was glad, honestly, to be numb. He’d just as soon stay that way.

Which was why, now, he asked Owen about the ranch, about Dane, about the boys, and didn’t let him ask anything. Let Owen ask Jennifer about the baby. That spot, he could touch. That spot felt nothing but good.

They headed inside, and Dyma said, all but skipping along, “You guys should have seen Owen at my