had darkened. “Is this the way it’ll be from now on?”
I slid the coffee toward him and he swiped his card over the card machine.
Jack scowled. “Em, are you seriously going to give me the silent treatment?”
“I’m not giving you the silent treatment.” I took a deep breath, my focus wandering past him to the book stacks. “I asked you not to come here. Nothing’s changed in that respect. I’m going to suggest, again, that you find somewhere else to get your coffee from now on.”
“Look me in the eye when you say it, and I might take that advice on board.”
I determinedly met his eyes. His expression veered between anger and concern.
His head dipped toward mine. “Look, Em—”
“Don’t.” I jerked away.
“I wasn’t going to kiss you, sunrise,” he murmured.
I ignored the ache of hearing the endearment he’d started using years ago. “I know. But you were going to lean in close and try to soften my resolve, and I don’t want you to.”
“Em—” A shrill ring sounded from somewhere on Jack’s person.
He sighed, placed his coffee on the counter, and reached inside the inner pocket of his suit jacket for his cell. His expression told me we weren’t done as he moved away from the counter, phone pressed against his ear.
I didn’t want to want to listen in, but I couldn’t help but watch him.
He had a strong, angular jawline covered in prickly stubble. The unshaven look started just over a year ago. And I knew that because I’d personally felt the prickle of it against my skin a year ago.
I flushed and looked down at the counter.
“She did what?” Jack’s angry voice brought my attention back to him.
He glared at my wall, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he listened to whomever was on the other end of the call. “Fuck,” he bit out. “Okay, I’m on my way.” He ended the call and turned to me.
My heart hammered at what I saw in Jack’s eyes.
Fear.
“What is it?”
“Rebecca.”
Rebecca was Jack’s sister. She’d been living in England for the last few years, in a form of exile from the Devlin family. “What about her?”
“She came home two days ago … that was Sheriff King on the phone.”
“Jack?”
He leaned his hands on the counter, bowing his head.
Worry flooded me. “Jack?”
“She … she just turned herself over to the police.”
Oh my God.
I reached for his hand.
He lifted his head, his tortured gaze locking with mine.
I knew what this meant.
I knew something no one else knew about the Devlins.
I knew the real reason Jack went to work for his family and why he’d betrayed Cooper, his best friend.
I knew it all.
And it had everything to do with protecting Rebecca Devlin.
“Oh, Jack,” I whispered, heartbroken for him.
1
Jack
Hartwell
Nine years ago
It didn’t matter if it was high or low season, Cooper’s Bar was always busy in the evening. Creedence Clearwater Revival played from the jukebox, fighting to be heard over the football game on the bar’s two flat-screen televisions. Football season had just started, and a lot of the locals came to Cooper’s to eat, drink, and watch their favorite game. As Delaware didn’t have an NFL team, most folks in Hartwell were Patriots fans.
Jack split his time between eating his burger, watching the screen above the bar, and talking to Coop while his friend served customers.
There was nothing atypical about the evening.
Jack was foreman of his own construction company, a job usually done by someone older. But Jack had worked in construction since he was fourteen years old. He’d hired Ray English, the guy he’d learned everything about construction from, stealing him away from the competition. He and Ray were more like co-foremen.
They’d closed the site they were working on earlier than usual. It was a private development of a small community of homes, out near Jimtown. Jack tried to keep the weekends free, but sometimes when a client offered a lot for overtime, it was hard to say no. Not only was his team not working the weekend, but with permission from their clients, he’d given them Friday off so they could enjoy the kickoff game with a few beers the night before.
His guys had been working flat out all summer and deserved the extra day. As for Jack, he was looking forward to doing some work to the home he’d bought six months ago in North Hartwell, near Coop’s house.
Yeah, there was nothing out of the ordinary about Jack hanging out at Cooper’s Bar, eating, drinking, and shooting the breeze with