Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,64

scent of him.

When he lifted his head at last, he didn’t let her go. He said, “Am I apologizing?” His eyes searching hers.

“N-no,” she said. “No. That was great. The speech, I mean. You were great. I was so—I was proud.” She tried to laugh. “I can’t say what I feel.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, still with his arm around her. “I think I got your point. Thanks.”

She did laugh, then. She was feeling much too giddy for it to come out steady. “I don’t know if you told your dad, but you sure told the town. You did what you came to do. And you know what? Nobody’s even said Happy Birthday. You’re supposedly so special, they want you here so much, but nobody’s even said that? Do they even know you? I wonder. And you know what we should do? We should go have birthday cake.”

“Good idea. Where would we do that?”

“Uh … I could look it up, but you’re the expert on North Dakota.”

“Nope. I don’t want to have my cake here. I’ve been freezing cold for about a week, ever since I got back from Hawaii.”

“Hawaii?”

“Pro Bowl. Never mind. We should go someplace not-freezing. Also, there’s that hot tub. How does New Mexico sound? Got to be a spa in New Mexico.”

“I need to be home tomorrow.”

“So? Tomorrow’s a whole day away. Let’s go to New Mexico.”

First, though, he had to get out of here.

He still had hold of Jennifer when they got back to the others. The mayor was up on stage, talking about moving the party inside, which wasn’t just a no, it was a hell, no. Once he went inside, he’d be stuck for hours. He saw Linc, the driver, hovering near the others and said, “Great. You’re here. Ten minutes, OK?”

“Warming up the car right now,” Linc said. “I’ll bring it around. Want me to call the charter company so the pilot knows we’re on our way and can spin up the jet?”

“You bet,” Harlan said, and Linc nodded and took off.

Money couldn’t buy you everything, but it could sure buy you a quick getaway.

His dad was still right there, ready to get some more digs in, but Harlan was running a post route here, straight down the field. He got the first word in, saying, “We’re about to get out of here, but good to see you, Bug.”

Annabelle said, “You just got here, though. Aren’t you going to stay for the game? It’s your birthday, too. You can’t leave in the middle of your birthday.” Looking dismayed, and as always, he wanted to take her with him. He hated leaving her here alone. He hated it.

Their dad said, “Of course he’s not staying. He made his big entrance, gave the big speech, and now he’s ready to waltz out again. Gets that from his mom. After I told everybody he’d gone back to Hawaii, that he couldn’t face folks here. How do I look now?”

Harlan wanted to say, Like a liar? Also, if the gloves were off—or the beers had reached the tipping point—he was definitely getting out of here, because his presence wouldn’t help anything.

Annabelle said, “We could have dinner back at the house, if you don’t want to stay here. I made chili, and I could make a carrot cake or something.” Which was just an impossible choice.

He said, “I wish I could, Bug, but I’ve got to get Dyma and Jennifer back to Idaho. I promised. I just didn’t want to let folks down, that’s all. Tell you what. Spring break, you can come visit. OK?”

“Really?” she asked. She’d grown to nearly five-eleven over this junior year in high school and still looked gawky and new, like a leggy colt. When she felt unsure, she looked even more that way.

“She’s got softball,” Axel said. “She’s not going anywhere. They don’t stop practicing just because it’s spring break. Nebraska and Minnesota both sent recruiting letters, plus a bunch of other shit schools that I threw out, but that scholarship isn’t going to happen if she bombs out of the playoffs this spring. Who’s going to push her if she’s out there in Party Central? You?”

Harlan had skirted this topic too many times. He’d skirted too many topics. He said, “You know, I’ve been called a lot of things. Not sure I’ve ever been called a non-inspirational guy, though, at least not athletically speaking. Got a gym in my house. Got a pool, too. Got hundreds of miles of