Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,188

and said, “I appreciate that. But I don’t expect to never have pain, you know. Go on and say it, whatever it is.”

He said, “I know how you’ve felt about a … a relationship between Dyma and me. A sexual relationship. For the record, I’ve felt a little bit the same way.”

“You don’t sleep with high-school girls.”

“Yeah. But honestly … I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to hold out.”

She took a minute. She wanted to get this right. When she thought she had it, she said, “I think you should follow your heart and your … your honor. I’m confident in both of those.”

He sighed and looked out over the lake. “If it helps, I’m pretty sure she’s going to break my heart. She’s got a lot of life to live. I’m not positive she’s going to end up wanting to live it with me. But I can’t seem to help myself.”

“You love her.”

He smiled, a wry twist of his mouth. “Yeah. She kind of … hit me, from the moment I first saw her.”

“The thunderbolt.”

“The thunderbolt. And I can’t shake her. I’m not going to take her away from her goals. I don’t think I could if I wanted to, and I don’t want to, at least my better side doesn’t. But seems I’m on this ride, and I’ve got to take it as far as it goes.”

She put her arms around him, then, and gave him a hug. How could she not? After a startled moment, he hugged back. It was basically hugging a mountain, but even mountains had feelings. She pulled back, finally, and said, “You’re a good man. I want good things for you. And I trust you with my daughter.”

He blew out a long breath. “Thanks. That means a lot.” A smile in his voice, then, as he said, “And I think we’d better head back up there. Harlan looks like he doesn’t know what to think. Never knew him to be a jealous guy. Laid-back guy, yeah. Casual guy. Not sure he feels that way now. And so you know—he’s solid. If he says it, you can trust it. Not everybody’s a decent guy. He is.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I see why the two of you are friends. And you’re right.” She tried to laugh, even though the whole day had her close to tears almost every second. “We’d better go back up there. It’s a party. No. It’s a celebration.”

59

Unfinished Business

On a Thursday morning over a month later, Jennifer got a call at work.

She thought it was Harlan. It felt like Harlan. She’d never been a superstitious person, but this pregnancy, or her life now, or … something—was changing her.

It was Annabelle, so she’d been close.

Jennifer said, “Hey. How’s it going? You on break?” Annabelle and Dyma had found summer jobs at Voodoo Donuts, “since,” as Dyma had put it, “that’s about the most Portlandia thing ever. Plus, vegetarian, and how am I supposed to work at Burger King anymore? Do you know how the fast-food industry sources their meat? Drug-resistant bacteria, anyone?”

Annabelle said, “Jennifer? Uh …” Then an indrawn breath, and Jennifer’s blood ran cold.

Harlan. Something had happened. He’d been spending some time in Wyoming over the past few weeks, helping Owen with his football camp before training camp started next week. He’d been sorry to go, and, she thought, a little excited to go, too. “Guess I’ll get some dad pointers,” he’d said when he’d kissed her goodbye at the airport this latest time. “Get Owen to let me work with the little guys, maybe.”

She took a breath of her own and said, “Annabelle. What’s happened?”

“Uh …” Annabelle said, her voice high and breathy, “Alison called me. She’d been trying to get hold of Harlan all day, but he didn’t answer.”

Jennifer’s head started swimming, and her vision started going black around the edges. She said, “Hang …” and put her head between her knees. The hand holding the phone was trembling so hard, she nearly dropped it, but she managed to say, “Tell me.”

Annabelle did.

It was hot in Wyoming. About eighty-three, Harlan figured, and some of the boys were flagging. He clapped his hands and called, “Let’s bring it in! Gatorade break!” and they came jogging over. Helmets on little heads, skinny shoulders bulked up by pads.

He’d just gotten them into the shade when Owen came jogging over with that surprisingly fluid motion you didn’t expect from such a big man. “Hey,” Harlan said. “Don’t want