Daring Devlin (Lost Boys #1) - Jessica Lemmon Page 0,39

with kindness. I heard Roy’s nephew address my mom next. “Nice to see you, Ms. Lewis.”

“Oh, it’s wonderful to see you again, Barney.”

Roy laughed, a loud firecracker of a sound. Barney let out an audible sigh. I peeked around the corner and saw the backs of their heads—Roy’s taller, graying one and Barney’s reddish-blond.

“It’s Baron,” Barney said, turning slightly so I saw his profile. “Uncle Roy’s been teasing me and calling me Barney—

“As in Fife from Andy Griffith!” Roy interjected proudly.

“—since I joined the force two years ago.” Baron shot an elbow into the ribs of his very tall, mustached uncle.

Roy guffawed. I smiled. Baron seemed nice. Like a family guy.

“Oh, you!” Mom gave Roy a playful shove before turning to where I leaned in the doorway. “He teased me this entire time,” she said to me with an eye roll. But her face was warm and happy. Roy made her happy, which made me happy.

Roy and Baron turned and followed Mom into the kitchen. My would-be suitor wore a nice button-down plaid shirt, his hair cut short and gelled into a simple style. Nothing like Devlin’s carelessly tousled, medium-length, almost-black hair. Baron wasn’t as tall as Dev, but he had a firm, solid build. I pictured him in a police uniform, and it wasn’t a bad picture. Then I pictured Devlin naked and that picture was even better.

Stop comparing them.

Baron approached, shoulders back, confidence intact. He offered a hand and a genial smile. “You must be Rena.”

I shook his hand. No zings of warning, exciting or otherwise, shot through me on contact. Bummer.

“You, uh, aren’t going to call me Barney, are you?” His smile was teasing, his teeth gleaming and straight. He had a pleasant, attractive face.

I felt my mouth pull into a smile. “Cross my heart.”

He swept a hand over his forehead in mock relief. He was probably popular, or had been in high school. Came from a good, normal family. I started to compare his facial features with Devlin’s, but that wasn’t fair. Baron was good-looking in his own way. He had kind, tame blue eyes. Not the electric color of Devlin’s, but a washed-out blue that suited him, and met mine unerringly.

Over dinner we talked about school, our hobbies, and where we worked. Roy and Mom mostly chatted with each other since Baron and I were wrapped in conversation. He was easy to talk with. I learned he’d played soccer in school, but not to any high standard.

“I spent a year and a half as a science major in order to become a park ranger, but I shifted to forensic science and focused on law enforcement instead,” he told me.

“A park ranger.”

“Not as hot as a cop, right?” He smiled a genuine smile, which I was beginning to suspect was the only smile he had.

“Damn straight,” Roy interrupted, before turning his attention to his second plate of food.

“But, like a park ranger,” Baron said with a mock seriousness I found endearing, “I can blow a whistle really loud if I catch you skinny-dipping in the pond.”

Potatoes went down the wrong way when I laughed, causing me to cough and sputter for a full minute. Baron was half out of his chair despite my waving him off.

He laughed, but only after I laughed. I laughed so hard, tears streamed down my face. Baron dabbed at the moisture on my cheeks.

“You’re safe with me. I know the Heimlich.” A sly but sweet smile crossed his lips.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He held my gaze and I felt a mild buzz of awareness between us. Especially when he added, “I hate what a lady-killer I am sometimes.”

I returned his smile with a watery one of my own. Mom and Roy were clearing the table, leaving us alone. Intentionally?

Likely.

Roy’s nephew was a catch. Cute and smart, and able to bring down criminals while packing affable charm. Any girl would be glad to have his attention. Any girl who didn’t belong to the mysterious Devlin Calvary, a man who was involved in “completely illegal” gambling.

My smile vanished. I didn’t “belong” to Devlin. I wanted to, and that scared me. How had I fallen so hard so fast? To Devlin I was a good girl on loan until he ran out of errands for me, or until his face healed completely and he was back to working the dining room himself.

Suddenly melancholy, I picked at my slice of rhubarb pie while Baron choked down every miserable bite of his. He was a better, smarter,